Ghost Stories: Risking life and limb

Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve discussed how terrible the Civil War was for the family of John Mills and Margaret Barrere. They lost three of their sons, Bebee, William and Thomas Jefferson Barrere, to America’s bloodiest conflict.

Bebee Barrere died of disease in a hospital in Kentucky, William Barrere perished in the infamous explosion of the Sultana steamboat, and Thomas Jefferson Barrere passed away in the notorious Andersonville Prison in Georgia.

History tells us that the Civil War cost nearly 1.1 million casualties. Roughly 2 percent of the population, an estimated 620,000 men, lost their lives in the line of duty. Taken as a percentage of today’s population, the toll would have risen as high as 6 million souls.

Approximately one in four soldiers that went to war never returned home. One in 13 surviving Civil War soldiers returned home missing one or more limbs. John Mills Barrere was one of the unfortunate ones who lost a limb during the war. The son of George Washington Barrere was 62 years old when the Civil War broke out. He helped to organize the 60th Ohio Volunteer Regiment, and went to war with the regiment as Adjutant.

As we mentioned earlier, the 60th Ohio Volunteer Regiment went to fight in the Shenandoah Valley, and was forced to surrender at Harpers Ferry, when it was surrounded by Stonewall Jackson in September 1862.

During the battle, John Mills Barrere was gathering horses during an artillery barrage, when a piece of shell went through a tree and tore into his arm. He had to have his left arm amputated, and he and his regiment were taken prisoner by the Confederate forces. He was subsequently released on parole by the Confederates, and returned home to Highland County.

A letter from Major J.K. Marlay of the 60th Ohio Volunteer Regiment detailed the episode where Barrere was wounded.

“We had started to get our horses into a safe place when the enemy opened upon us,” Marlay wrote. “I told Col. Hixson to take mine and I would go back to see after the regiment. I had to stop twice as I returned. So complete was the crossfire that there seemed to be no way to get through it, but by watching the change in the direction of their fire and taking advantage of it, I got back to the regiment without accident, and found it all safe with one exception.

“It was on his return from getting his horse away that Adjutant Barrere had his hand shot so that it had to be amputated. The ball that struck him passed through a tree 12 inches thick before it hit him. The whole face of the hill around Rigby’s battery seemed to be covered with exploding shells and solid balls plowing up the ground, and it seems a very astonishing thing that our loss was not greater than it was.”

Shortly after that, Col. Dixon S. Miles decided to surrender his Union garrison.

“This kind of firing was kept up until half past 7, when Col. Miles appeared, and seeing how it was, called a council of Brigadiers and decided to surrender at once,” Marlay wrote. “He started along the brow of Bolivar Heights with a white flag in his hand. When he got about halfway to where we were, he was struck on the calf of his leg by a piece of a shell and mortally wounded. Col. Trimble then caught up the flag and on his horse carried it to Rigby’s battery.

“The enemy seemed to cease firing for a moment, but only for a moment when they opened upon us with more fury than ever. During this firing, Col. Trimble was very much exposed, and it was a wonder he escaped at all. Hereafter, an Orderly was sent forward with another flag, which he fastened to one of Rigby’s guns, when the enemy seeing it, checked firing, though they did not stop altogether for an hour, but kept firing random shots, though without injury to us.”

It goes without saying that any limb amputation is a harrowing experience, but amputations during the Civil War era had to be a terrible experience. Civil War surgeons, at a minimum, had medical kits that consisted of two surgical saws, cutting pliers, a curved probe, clamps, a retractor, a brush and trepanning instruments. Surgeons would use the probes to inspect a wound before using the clamps, retractor and saws for the amputation surgery itself.

During the Civil War, surgeons performed two types of amputation: circular and flap. A circular amputation involved rolling the tissue and skin up like a cuffed sleeve before cutting the bone. Afterward, the doctor would roll the “cuff” back down, sew it together, and create a stump. A flap amputation entailed creating two long flaps of skin and tissue that were folded and sewn over the cut bone.

A New York Times article, “Under the Knife,” described the amputation process as “fairly simple:” After a circular cut was made completely around the limb, the bone was sawed through, and the blood vessels and arteries sewn shut. To prevent future pain, nerves were then pulled out as far as possible with forceps, cut and released to retract away from the end of the stump. Finally, clippers and a rasp were used to smooth the end of the exposed bone. Sometimes the raw and bloody stump was left untreated to heal gradually, and sometimes excess skin was pulled down and sewn over the wound. Speed was essential in all amputations to lessen blood loss and prevent shock. An amputation at the knee was expected to take just three minutes.

About three quarters of all operations performed during the war – roughly 60,000 surgeries – were amputations.

Let’s pause for now and we’ll continue next week.

Steve Roush is a vice president of an international media company and a columnist and contributing writer for The Highland County Press. He can be reached by email at roush_steve@msn.com.