How Left-Handed Penmanship Contests Tried To Help Civil War Vets After Amputation, Robert Davis, Salon.com, August 3, 2016
This eight-page handwritten letter by Private Franklin H. Durrah describes his service as a private in the
Union Army during the Civil War, which ended with the loss of his right
arm. The letter’s neat cursive—and the story it tells—is part of a
collection of entries into left-handed penmanship contests for disabled
veterans, recently digitized by the Library of Congress. The William Oland Bourne Papers holds nearly 300 letters, photographs, and various recollections, offering an unprecedented look at the stories of heavily wounded soldiers.
Bourne, a chaplain at New York’s Central Park Hospital, used his newspaper The Soldier’s Friend
to conduct a penmanship contest for veterans who had lost their right
(writing) arm in the Civil War. Bourne offered prize money for the best
writing ($1,000 total for the 1866 competition); he hoped that
showcasing the winner’s penmanship despite their disability would lead
to their future employment. “Penmanship,” The Soldier’s Friend
wrote, “is a necessary requisite to any man who wants a situation under
the government, or in almost any business establishment.” To enter,
contestants were asked to write a letter using their left hand that
detailed their service and injury, and, if possible, include a
photograph. All told, the collection holds entries for two years of
Bourne’s contests, which provide a rare soldier’s-eye-view of combat and
recovery.
In his letter, Durrah, who enlisted at the age of 18 in 1861, paints a
particularly grim picture of Army life. Picturesque anecdotes such as
finding—and hunting—a stray pig in the Virginia wilderness or
encountering abandoned Confederate barricades are outweighed by
unsettling experiences, such as the Army setting fire to a “woods”
during a night retreat or finding a “negro pen” by a Virginia court
house. While Durrah remembers having been eager for action, he complains
that many aspects of Army life were “not agreeable.” Long marches in
poor weather and bivouacs in muddy fields were sometimes interrupted by
intense combat before resuming again, with little rest in between.
Durrah recounts that the troops suddenly heard musket fire on a late
May morning in 1862 and then got into battle formation in what became
known as the Battle of Seven Pines. Eight hours later, a musket ball entered Durrah’s right arm at the
elbow and traveled straight through the bone to the shoulder, where it
exited. Afterwards, he plainly states, he “walked about a mile to the
rear of the battlefield, and there my arm was amputated.”
Some contestants adjusted to society well. Sgt. Seth Sutherland (the contest’s first entrant) was elected to two terms as a county
auditor in Ohio, where he seems to have earned a great deal of respect,
despite what he refers to as almost constant inquiries about his missing
arm. Durrah was not so lucky. Although $200 richer from the contest, he
was declared insane and eventually committed to an asylum, for an affliction that most likely was what we would not call post-traumatic stress disorder.
Text and Image Source: Salon.com August 2, 2016
Image's Original Source: Library of Congress
How Left-Handed Penmanship Contests Tried To Help Civil War Vets After Amputation, Robert Davis, Salon.com, August 3, 2016
This eight-page handwritten letter by Private Franklin H. Durrah describes his service as a private in the
Union Army during the Civil War, which ended with the loss of his right
arm. The letter’s neat cursive—and the story it tells—is part of a
collection of entries into left-handed penmanship contests for disabled
veterans, recently digitized by the Library of Congress. The William Oland Bourne Papers holds nearly 300 letters, photographs, and various recollections, offering an unprecedented look at the stories of heavily wounded soldiers.
Bourne, a chaplain at New York’s Central Park Hospital, used his newspaper The Soldier’s Friend
to conduct a penmanship contest for veterans who had lost their right
(writing) arm in the Civil War. Bourne offered prize money for the best
writing ($1,000 total for the 1866 competition); he hoped that
showcasing the winner’s penmanship despite their disability would lead
to their future employment. “Penmanship,” The Soldier’s Friend
wrote, “is a necessary requisite to any man who wants a situation under
the government, or in almost any business establishment.” To enter,
contestants were asked to write a letter using their left hand that
detailed their service and injury, and, if possible, include a
photograph. All told, the collection holds entries for two years of
Bourne’s contests, which provide a rare soldier’s-eye-view of combat and
recovery.
In his letter, Durrah, who enlisted at the age of 18 in 1861, paints a
particularly grim picture of Army life. Picturesque anecdotes such as
finding—and hunting—a stray pig in the Virginia wilderness or
encountering abandoned Confederate barricades are outweighed by
unsettling experiences, such as the Army setting fire to a “woods”
during a night retreat or finding a “negro pen” by a Virginia court
house. While Durrah remembers having been eager for action, he complains
that many aspects of Army life were “not agreeable.” Long marches in
poor weather and bivouacs in muddy fields were sometimes interrupted by
intense combat before resuming again, with little rest in between.
Durrah recounts that the troops suddenly heard musket fire on a late
May morning in 1862 and then got into battle formation in what became
known as the Battle of Seven Pines. Eight hours later, a musket ball entered Durrah’s right arm at the
elbow and traveled straight through the bone to the shoulder, where it
exited. Afterwards, he plainly states, he “walked about a mile to the
rear of the battlefield, and there my arm was amputated.”
Some contestants adjusted to society well. Sgt. Seth Sutherland (the contest’s first entrant) was elected to two terms as a county
auditor in Ohio, where he seems to have earned a great deal of respect,
despite what he refers to as almost constant inquiries about his missing
arm. Durrah was not so lucky. Although $200 richer from the contest, he
was declared insane and eventually committed to an asylum, for an affliction that most likely was what we would not call post-traumatic stress disorder.
Text and Image Source: Salon.com August 2, 2016
Image's Original Source: Library of Congress
Text and Image Source: Salon.com August 2, 2016
Image's Original Source: Library of Congress
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