The beginnings of Winder Hospital, which became one of Richmond’s largest in the Civil War, where my great grandfather, a private in Barksdale’s Mississippi Brigade, spent several months in 1862.
The post title, however, is that of this historical novel I recently finished about the training and coming-of-age of a young Virginia doctor during the war. Not at Winder, but at Charlottesville General Hospital on the UVA campus. A good story worth your time only if you are captivated by the period. The hero’s stuffed-shirt personality and the author’s extensive use of the vernacular can be annoying. The hero’s clinical detachment serves him well as a doctor but can make him a tiresome human being. Such jarring notes as his disinterest in religion are more modern than nineteenth century.
Now and then I felt trapped in some period memoir, becoming confused by the use of passive voice and multiple parentheticals. One detail, a slouch cap, was silly. A slouch was a hat, not a cap. Nevertheless, I found it hard to put down for long. I did miss the bleeding and cupping, two common treatments of the time to relieve fevers which were later discarded as doing only harm. I suppose the hero would have looked pretty stupid using either one and so they were left out.
The author obviously put a great deal of work into the tale (recounted in the back pages aknowledging his grants) and so I felt a little guilty at being able to acquire it almost new for one penny plus four dollars shipping. He can thank Amazon for that. One does wonder how the classical writers ever did it, without masters degrees in fine arts, writing workshops and multiple grants.
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 
