In early 1862, names of enlisted men filling the role of veterinary surgeon or veterinary sergeant begin to appear in my files. In a special order dated January 6, 1862, Col. Henry Davies, 2nd New York, announced, “On recommendation of Major [Alfred] Duffie … Farrier Henry Wickett of Co. A is hereby promoted to Veterinary Sgt.” Though I have not examined any records for the ‘veterinarians’ identified in today’s post, the regimental roster identifies Henry Wickett, as having enlisted August 5, 1861, in New York City, as a 21-year-old private. The roster entry does not identify him as a farrier or mention him receiving the position as veterinary surgeon but concludes by noting his death by disease one month later, February 5, 1862.
Documents for the 1st New Jersey identify Pvt. Joseph Turner as the regiment’s veterinary surgeon as early as January 8, 1862. The early history of the regiment was troubling to say the least, in large part due to the actions or inaction of Col. William Halsted. Among other concerns, the regiment’s horses were in especially poor condition.
In October 1861, a private had addressed a letter to General McClellan, complaining of the colonel’s leadership. “My object of addressing you,” the soldier wrote, “is to call your attention to the disorganized condition of the 1st New Jersey Cavalry … The Col [Halsted] is a very unpopular man with all the officers as well as the men. He has come out here with the purpose of making money instead of being a good officer. He has made the regiment a family affair – for instance his son is a quartermaster and a very incompetent man for the office, as he neglects the men and Horses [emphasis here and above in original] in every respect. Another son a sutler, again, another son a wagon master, a son in law a Captain and the Major is his own cousin…”
A lawyer and former politician, Halstead was ordered before an examination board and then discharged on February 18, 1862, due, in part, to a negative report from the board. But he left the regiment in a very disorganized state.
On January 8, 1862, Private Turner, who identified himself as the veterinary surgeon, wrote to the unnamed commanding officer of the regiment.
“I have still to report that no change having been made in the feed of our horses they are fast dying from its effects and [should it be] continued we must expect to lose a large number for the corn immediately upon entering the stomach it commences fermenting, which soon brings on Gastro Enteritis, which if not immediately relieved must produce death.
Since my report of the fifth [not found], five horses have died, one at our outpost and four in camp, all from the effects of corn which is at present being fed to them…”
General Stoneman, Chief of Cavalry, recommended that the regiment be moved to a point where better forage could be obtained and forwarded Turner’s letter to McClellan, who instructed Col. Charles Havelock to inspect the animals. Havelock did so on January 9 and made the following report to Stoneman.
“…I ascertained that the horses of the regiment, 950 in number, had for several days past been nearly destitute of forage, that no hay could be procured at Alexandria or its vicinity, and, in short, that the horses were almost in a state of starvation…” Having several reports at hand, including Turner’s, Havelock “deemed it expedient to postpone any further inspection and” instead, he reported immediately to Stoneman.
Disgusted, Stoneman recommended “that the horses … be turned over to the Quartermaster Dept. for issue to other regiments in need of them, and where they will be properly taken care of.
“…I would recommend that the regiment be either mustered out of service or that the officers [emphasis in original]be discharged and the rank and file be distributed amongst other regiments.”
Regarding the officers, Stoneman believed “their sole occupation, as far at least as the field officers are concerned appears to be to prefer charges against each other and quarrel among themselves. I am satisfied that with its present organization it can never become anything but a useless bill of expense upon the service…”
The army retained the 1st New Jersey, but Private Turner’s letter, in addition to those from other officers and enlisted men, brought about the necessary changes that led to the regiment obtaining a respected position within the Cavalry Corps.
In a letter of June 17, 1862, a regimental correspondent in the 8th New York identified William Ross as a battalion veterinary surgeon. Ross had mustered in as a veterinary surgeon the previous November and the roster shows no other rank for him. Unfortunately, his tenure, like that of Henry Wickett, proved short, as he was mustered out in June 1862 due to an injury.
On June 24, just days before the Seven Days fighting erupted, Col. Delos Sackett, formerly lieutenant colonel of the 2nd Dragoons and now a colonel serving as an inspector general, sent a long inspection report to McClellan. Regarding the cavalry, Sackett noted, “Many horses in each regiment are unfit for service just now – could they be turned out to grass and allowed to rest for a short time…under the charge of a Veterinary Sergeant… I think would soon be in good order for duty again.”
The following day, Private Turner, then in the capital, wrote to Montgomery Meigs, quartermaster general of the army.
“From my observation of the great mortality of our army horses, from injurious and ignorant practice, I am encouraged to say that I have occupied the position as veterinary surgeon of the First New Jersey Cavalry since August 20, 1861 during which time I have observed with regret the usefulness of most who are administering to the diseases of the horse, and their ability to distinguish the various diseases which the horse is liable to.
“The disease so fatal to our horses…being lung fever and distemper – these are termed by the ignorant very often as glanders, whereby many horses are sacrificed. I have in no instance lost a horse from the above disease, which, under proper treatment has readily yielded in the course of 5 or 6 days and the horse fit for duty in 8 or 10…”
Indeed, many men believed that the only way to save a regiment’s horses was to quickly remove and shoot those deemed to have the disease.
In May, when Gen. Irvin McDowell’s command had been based near Fredericksburg, he had issued an order, stating in part, “The glanders being reported among the horses… commanders… are called upon to act promptly in arresting the disease. For this purpose, every officer and man having a horse will cause thorough and frequent examination of them to be made and when the slightest evidence of its existence shall be manifest the animals will be separated from the rest of the herd, with a view to their destruction, if it be found that they are really diseased. In case of every diseased horse killed, all articles of horse furniture used on him will be condemned and burned. Officers must see that this is done as well as to the adoption of all other measures calculated to prevent the disease.”
Within days, orders such as the following from the commander of the 1st Maine were published across McDowell’s command. “Three black horses belonging to Co I…with the glanders are hereby ordered to be shot,” and “Four chestnut horses belonging to Co K…are ordered to be shot, they having a disease called the glanders.”
One month after Private Turner addressed the problem with Meigs, the provost marshal for the 5th Corps, then at Harrison’s Landing, wrote, “There are, scattered about and running at large through the different camps a number of horses and mules in an advanced stage of glanders…the animals are liable by contagion to cause great damage and should certainly be put out of the way as speedily as possible.
“There is great culpability…among those having charge of horses and mules in turning loose and allowing to run at large animals affected with the loathsome and fearfully contagious disease. I …recommend that… [any animal] be… immediately killed and buried by a detail of the nearest command.”
Glanders did not make itself readily apparent at the outset, meaning that infected animals appeared healthy and were shipped to the front, often in tightly packed train cars or ships, and could thus infect an entire shipment prior to reaching the army. In such cases, suspicion often focused, unfairly, on civilian inspectors who had accepted the animals as healthy. But corrupted inspectors often turned a blind eye to more obvious defects.
In September 1862, one of Meigs’s subordinates offered a solution in which civilian inspectors would be paid $2 per horse inspected. Meigs disagreed, explaining, “An inspector can inspect 50 horses a day… The fee for inspecting the horses of a regiment would amount to $2000, entirely too much. The officers of the Regt. should be competent … to decide upon the fitness of any horse for service.” As Meigs concluded, “An honest man…could inspect the horses and would be well paid for his labor at $2 a day – a thief would take $2 a horse from the Gov’t and twice that from the contractor.”
In December, a quartermaster in Wheeling, [West] Virginia, bypassed Meigs and wrote to Edwin Stanton regarding another ailment. “My sympathies for this Government have been deeply enlisted by the deplorable loss in horses, occasioned by a disease termed ‘foot evil,’ which has, to an astonishing extent, prevailed among the horses attached to the Army in Western Virginia.
“I have purchased the large majority of those horses and have done it with a view to facilitating the movement of troops in a section of country that made it imperative to have them of superior strength and ability. Consequently, I had to pay more than for horses purchased in some other sections.
“When this disease made its appearance among the horses, the ‘Quacks’ accompanying the army as ‘Veterinary Surgeons, made use of poisonous applications, which have proved injurious to the horses, and where a cure was said to be affected, the external only has been improved, while the cause remained internally, and consequently they have been condemned as unfit for service.
“I have filled many requisitions for ‘Horse Medicines,’ and in the requisitions the articles of “Calomel and Arsenic,” have largely predominated, and from my experience, [I] have resolved to discontinuance the use of it hereafter as being highly detrimental to the safety of the horse. On the 21st I had 57 horses, that were in the service of the 1st [West] Virginia Artillery… forwarded to this place, and at this date, there is a manifest improvement in them, and I am confident that 99 of 100 of them, will in a short time, have been restored … thus producing a savings of thousands of dollars to the government.
“I have procured the services of Mr. Samuel Ludwick of Chester County, Penn., well known by myself for his ability in administering effectively to the wants of diseased horses, and under my own personal and daily supervision of the treatment given them, I feel confident of restoring to the Government a large percentage … that has hitherto been nearly valueless…”
In January, Meigs responded to Stanton. “I …return…a letter… in regard to the care of diseased horses and suggesting the appointment of Samuel Ludwick to take care of horses sent to Wheeling… [The officer] speaks of veterinary surgeons with the Army of Western Virginia as “quacks.” They should probably apply the same term to anyone whom he may recommend to take their places.
“No person should be employed as a Veterinary Surgeon unless skillful. It is not, however, probable that regular graduates of veterinary colleges can be found in this country in sufficient numbers to supply the number needed in the present military establishment. The solicitation of Veterinary Surgeons must be left in great measure to the colonels and officers of the regiments to which they are attached…”
I have no other references to calomel or arsenic in my files of contemporary communications, however, a standard army supply chart of horse medicines includes calomel but not arsenic. I will talk more about medicines and medical equipment for the veterinarians in a later post.
While the army did post Regulations for the Veterinary Service in 1863 and published a guide for quartermasters, that included a section on veterinary care, I do not believe I have seen any evidence of accepted standards or methods of treatment as we might take for granted in health care or in veterinary medicine today. Everyone seemed to have their preferred remedy, and they remained suspicious of other possible remedies. Each commander acted as he deemed best, as evidenced in a previous post titled ‘Croton Oil, Gunpowder, Human Manure, and the movie El Dorado.’
To be continued.
Sources:
Unpublished documents at the National Archives
Rochester Daily Union and Advertiser
Rober Hunt, Colonels in Blue, The Mid-Atlantic States
The Quartermaster’s Guide
Small But Important Riots 