Initially the only thing we had planned for sure when we were talking about visiting Maryland was a visit to the National Museum of Civil War Medicine. Why? I guess because it was just morbid enough to be perfectly suited for the both of us. And it didn’t take a lot to convince our other travel companion to go along with it. History is always interesting to poke at… medical history… well, sometimes it’s just nice to be grateful we live in a time with such things as antibiotics. You know, luxury.
I remember as a kid I was singled out by the town historian to play the part of wounded Civil War soldier for some activity we were doing in grade school… I’m fuzzy on what my badge read but I think it was something like, “leg in need of amputation.” So really this was just an extension of this bizarre role play. Not to mention I’d already been to the Mutter Museum in Philly and loved it so this was going to be fun. I looked forward to seeing all the horrifying sharp and shiny medical instruments.
When we got there we very pleasantly surprised. I was expected a little back country museum with a few feeble displays but this was off what seemed a bustling street and it was several floors and even had a spacious gift shop filled with delightfully morbid things – pens in the shape of femurs, a whole library of books on the gruesome subject at hand, and a wonderful assortment of skeleton lithographs – one of which came home with me.
We learned right away that this wasn’t just the medical history museum it was also where the office of missing civil war soldiers once operated. I hadn’t really thought about this much but I guess a lot of soldiers, especially confederate ones, remained unidentified after their deaths.
I am going to admit right here and now that I know very little about the Civil War. I remember it being shoved down my throat in grade school when I was way too young to truly comprehend any of it and then it never being mentioned again. And if I want to be brutally honest this is probably the beginning of me hating school. I mean I had no interest in any of it. And this is unfortunate because I think if it was taught when I was a little older I would have been as fascinated by the human interest side of it as I am now.
With that all being said I’m sure I will say some dumb things about what I’ve learned so here we go! The museum was very well put together and had all sorts of interactive exhibits, a bunch of life size wax figurines, some dioramas, and of course a whole lotta history. Right from the get-go we were greeted by a big display called Civil War Myths and we got to read through them. One for the most repeated was that Civil War surgeons weren’t butchers or barbers, they were actual surgeons and doctors. I mean they wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny today but at the time they were the top of their field. To become a surgeon one had to attend two semesters of classes which spanned over 6 months and took two years to complete both. Granted there seemed to be little real life “practice” shall we say buuut… it was better than nothing.
Things I learned: the Civil War was the birth of the US’s ambulance system. There were a shocking amount of amputations because the bullets at the time were led and shattered upon impact rather than going straight through like modern artillery. There were women working the battlefields as nurses – some were even people of color. Some soldiers brought their entire families with them – which frequently resulted in their wives being cast in unpaid domestic chores and their children dying of dysentery and other camp plagues. Horses were so important to the war effort that the first ever sanctuary/livestock recovery farm was started to nurse injures horses and mules back to health so they could be sent back to the front lines – in the process of doing this the field of veterinary medicine expanded greatly in knowledge – well past the “Well, it’s injured, guess we have to shoot it now” mentality.
Among all the displays of sharp things there were photos of people before and after they were made prosthetics – an industry that again was founded in this tragedy. Some were profoundly disfigured and aside them there was a photo of a pile of amputated parts – feet, legs, hands. It was… honestly a bit stomach turning. And then we found the arm. An actual human arm. Mummified of course. Whose arm was it? Nobody knows! All we know is that it was plucked off a battlefield where it was lying minding it’s own business and brought home by a doctor before being eventually donated to this museum.
Who brings home an arm?!”
“Well he was a doctor…”
“AND?! Unless his name was Frankenstein that doesn’t make it any less WTF!”
We spent quite a bit of time here. It was even more morbid than I anticipated and it was very educational. Perfect for any history buff or medical student in my opinion. I would highly recommend it if you’re ever in Fredrick.
