Lost limbs figure into this account of the Lost Cause

10-4-04
By Jim Schlosser Staff Writer
News & Record

Just when you think scholars have exhausted every angle about the Civil War, Ansley Herring Wegner arrives with the latest offering.

It’s the result of years she spent researching North Carolina Civil War veterans and the artificial limbs they wore — and often discarded because the former rebels found the devices useless, uncomfortable and painful.

Wegner’s book, “Phantom Pain: North Carolina’s Artificial Limbs Program for Confederate Veterans,” has just been published by the state Office of Archives and History.

A Wilson County native and a research historian, Wegner examined documents related to more than 1,500 Tar Heel war veterans, including 40 from Guilford County. They wrote to Gov. William Worth asking for a prosthesis or for money in lieu of a limb.

They included Capt. William Rankin of Greensboro, who lost a leg at Petersburg, Va., 13 days before the war ended.

The captain hobbled on to a successful post-war career. He owned a farm near Browns Summit, served as a county commissioner and when he died unexpectedly in 1918 at age 72 — he had been at work the previous day — he was Guilford’s register of deeds.

Wegner writes that many veterans viewed their missing limbs as badges of honor: “They pinned up their shirt sleeves and pants legs proudly and were heard to make statements such as 'at least I lived’ or 'it was a small price to pay for the cause.’’’

Well into the 20th century, the sight of Civil War veterans with missing limbs was common in every North Carolina town.

During the war, the first reaction of many military doctors was to reach for the saw, hence “saw bones,” a cynical synonym for a doctor.

In fairness, amputation was often the only choice in the harsh, filthy conditions of Civil War field hospitals. If a damaged limb wasn’t removed, gangrene and other infections were almost certain to kill the soldier.

But Wegner writes, “Some unscrupulous surgeons conducted amputations in order to gain surgical experience rather than to help the wounded.”

She quotes from a manual written by an experienced war surgeon, J. Julian Chisolm, who said some doctors amputated even if a soldier suffered only a flesh wound.

“The limbs of soldiers were in as much danger from the ardor of young surgeons as from the missiles of the enemy,” Chisolm wrote.

Despite the state’s ruined post-war economy, Gov. Jonathan Worth, who had ties to Randolph and Guilford counties, insisted the state government was obligated to buy limbs for maimed veterans to help them enjoy life and earn a living. He contracted with the Jewett Patent Leg Co. of Washington to supply limbs.

At first, Worth offered veterans only artificial legs, after concluding artificial arms were of no benefit.

Worth later changed his position and the state also provided arms. The governor was influenced by letters from veterans.

But the governor’s initial skepticism proved correct. Once veterans were fitted (at a shop in, of all places, a former bayonet factory in Raleigh), Worth began receiving letters expressing dissatisfaction about the artificial arms.

One man said his arm did nothing except “to fill the vacancy.”

Artificial legs were slightly more popular, but not much. Many men complained of the heaviness of the limbs and the pain they felt when they inserted their stump into the prosthesis.

A veteran from Asheville wrote to the governor that his artificial leg worked fine when he was fitted on a level floor in Raleigh, but he couldn’t use it on the hilly terrain back home.

In an interview, Wegner said some veterans with means skipped the state artificial limbs program and bought a more sophisticated, expensive prosthesis. These included Col. Benjamin Little of Richmond County. In 1983, his granddaughter, the late Greensboro physician Jean McAlister, donated Little’s artificial arm to the Greensboro Historical Museum.

The book contains photos, including of brothers Levi and Henry Walker of Charlotte seated together early in the war, each with two legs. A second photo shows them side by side after the war, each missing their left leg.

What possessed Wegner to take on such a grisly subject? She says early in her career, while working at the state library, staff members were expected to do research projects. She noticed some untouched boxes. She found them full of documents and letters about the state’s post-Civil War artificial limbs program.

As she sorted, indexed and read, her interest grew.

“I’ve always been interested in medical history,” she said.

Her research led her to conclude North Carolina provided one of the most generous artificial limbs programs among the former Confederate States of America. She believes her book will help the research efforts of historians and genealogists, and be of interest to general readers. She includes a chart of the 300 veterans who contacted the state about limbs. The chart directs readers to where each veteran’s letters and documents are in the archives.

Wegner says the highlight of her research was locating a rare Jewett leg. She started searching in 1997. Finally, in 2003, she was told of a letter Archives and History had received from Duncan Hanna of Red Springs, who requested a copy of the military pension application his grandfather, Robert Hanna, submitted after the war. Duncan Hanna’s letter said he possessed his grandfather’s artificial leg.

Wegner contacted Hanna, and the limb turned out to be a Jewett in decent condition. Robert Hanna had worn it only on special occasions.

“Being able to see that leg made a big difference in understanding what the veterans were saying about the Jewett in their letters to the governor,” she says.

Another discovery brought her research close to home. Growing up, she had heard her father talk about his great-uncle, who had lost a leg in the Civil War.

One day, while examining a document, she exclaimed, “That’s Uncle Sandy,” as George Allen McRae was nicknamed.

Family members, she says, passed down recollections that Uncle Sandy was crotchety in his old age.

No wonder. Wouldn’t anyone be who had to hobble around on one of those heavy, painful peg legs supplied to those who lost a leg fighting for the Lost Cause?