Bio: Everett Jenkins :Pittsfield, Merrimack Co, New Hampshire

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Submitted by: Rick Giirtman  rickman@worldpath.net
Date: March 17, 2001
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From the Book
'History of Pittsfield, N. H. in the Rebellion'
by H. L. Robinson, published 1893


EVERETT JENKINS.

Perhaps no man who entered the army suffered more and came out alive than
Everett Jenkins. He was born in Barnstead, September 29, 1836. His father
was Joseph Jenkins, his mother Lydia (Merrill) Jenkins. He lived with his
father, working on his large farm and attending school, until he was
twenty-one years old, when he came to Pittsfield to work for his brother
Joseph, who was a butcher. He remained with him a year or so, until he went
into the photograph business for himself. In March, 1861, he married Miss
Addie M. Knowles of this town. He enlisted with his two brothers, Lewis and
Melvin J., of Barnstead, in Company B, Twelfth regiment of New Hampshire
infantry, August 30, 1862.

At the terrible Battle of Fredericksburg, Va., while his regiment was moving
down by the river over Strafford Heights, he was wounded in the right hand
and his arm broken in several places--in fact destroyed for all practical
purposes. After a part of the wounds healed there were more than thirty
scars left. Some of the wounds have never healed. He thinks the explosion of
the shell must have knocked him down, as his clothing was covered with dirt,
when he came to himself. While running to the rear, the first shelter he
sought was a large pile of boards, but he remained here only a short time,
for it occurred to him that if the enemy should knock them over it would be
sure death; so he ran to a big oak tree standing near the Lacy house. He
then went to the Lacy house. It was so full of wounded that he had to go to
the back part of the building before he could find room to lie down. There
he lay eight days and nights before his wounds were dressed. No attention
was paid to him except to pour cold water on his arm. His clothing was wet
all that time. Near his head was a large iron tank into which human
excrement was poured. The stench was terrible.

Thirteen days after he was wounded, Christmas day, he was taken out of the
house, moved about one half mile, and placed in a tent with other wounded.
It was bitter cold. A lady came that day to Jenkins and said, "You poor
soldier, don't you want some brandy and milk?" It was the first nourishment
he had received since his wound. Jenkins took the cup and drank eagerly.
She said, "There are many others, and I have but a little." He gave back
the dipper.

The same day he was put in a freight car, where he lay on the floor till
night. Then the engine was hitched on, bumping the cars together regardless
of their freight of suffering humanity, and the train was taken to Aquia
Creek. Here they had the first food since they went into battle on that
morning of December 12. It was one biscuit each. They were then put on board
a steamer and taken to Washington, and placed in Stanton hospital.

Four men took Jenkins from the ambulance, one at each leg and arm, and
regardless of his cries of pain, caused by lifting him by his shattered arm,
carried him in. Drs. Hammond and Lidell had charge of this hospital, and
Jenkins is very loud in his praise of these two men. Dr. Hammond lanced his
arm in thirty places, and at each place the pus would spurt out. A few days
later the doctor said, "To-morrow we will decide whether we shall amputate
your arm or not."

Comrade Jenkins was very glad to hear this, hoping to soon get rid of this
painful member, but the next day the doctor told him that they had concluded
not to do so. "For, " said he, " if we take it off, you will not live
twenty-four hours. With it on, there is a bare chance that you will live.

" How much of a chance?" Jenkins asked.

" One in ten," was the reply.

" Then I will take that chance, " said Jenkins.

He remained in this hospital sixty-three days. Soon after his arrival his
brother, William Albert Jenkins, came to take care of him, and remained with
him until his discharge on February 26, 1863. His brother took him in his
arms and carried him as a person would an infant, for Everett, although six
feet tall, weighed but 98 pounds. In the cars his brother held him in his
lap, and after a short rest in New York they reached Concord, where a sleigh
was in readiness with a bed in it, and he was taken to his home. At Stanton
hospital he was taken with a severe pain in his right leg, which Dr. Hammond
said was caused by blood poison. For a long time his life was despaired of,
and this trouble has caused him intense pain since.

After his wounds had been dressed at Washington, as related above, Jenkins
remained in a stupor for a long time. When he opened his eyes, a sheet had
been spread over his face, and he could see something crawling over it.
With his uninjured hand he turned the sheet down, and discovered that he was
covered with lice. He called an attendant, and he was moved to cleaner
quarters, but it was a long time before he was free from these vermin.
While in Washington his leg pained him severely day and night. It became so
tender that he could not bear the weight of a sheet upon it. At last the
doctor lanced it, and it discharged over a gallon of pus. He lay in one
position so long that his joints were set, and when an attempt was made to
lift him he was as rigid as a log of wood, not a joint would bend.

Since the war he has been in the Massachusetts General hospital twice, to
have his leg operated upon, and has had ten and one half inches of bone
removed. Strange to say he still lives, and can be seen walking on our
streets daily.