■■-v^.,^ iZ-, ^w.^f.m'^^-c. Our Army Nurses. INTERESTING SKETCHES, ADDRESSES, AND PHOTOGRAPHS Of nearly One Hundred of the Noble W^omen who Served in Hospitals and on Battlefields during OUR CIVIL WAR. COMPILED By MARY A. GARDNER HOLLAND. SOLD BY SUBSCRIPTION ONLY. 1895. B. WILKINS & CO., Publishers, 93 Federal Street, Boston, Massachusetts. iiyis COFVKI'iHT, lH'Xi, B. WILKIXS & CO., Boston, ]\rAss. ^ -0- PREFACE. Orators find sources of eloquence in considering the part which woman phxjed in our Civil War. Their strongest praise cannot reach too high. We all know full well what a background of encouragement, sympathy, and actual aid the women of the North furnished ; they held back their deepest wishes lest they should be considered selfish, cheered long weary hours Avith patriotic songs, and organized through villages and towns to carry on the work of the Sanitary Commission. But there were other women who went forth on the peril- ous path of real service in the wnv. They were sunshine iit the edge of battlefields, voices of solace in hospital suffer- ings. In ways beyond tlie power of the chaplains they served the dying, receiving last messages and brightening the last hours of many a boy in blue. The privations and dangers which these nol)le characters endured called for a fortitude equal in man}- respects to the valor of the soldier. The army nurse was obliged to respond to duty at all times and in all emergencies. She could not measure her time, sleep, or strength. She was under orders to serve to the fullest. What remarkable experiences fell to the lot of these women are somewhat revealed in the following pages. I am gratified to see this collection of narratives, all aglow with tlie vivid light of our great war. Such descriptions ought to be of intense interest to the young ; there surely 5 6 PREFACE. is, flashing from their pages, incitement to self-sacrifice and heroism for other pliases of life ; while gratitude spontane- ously wreatlies her garland for these devoted women. Not alone to the soldier of the Union does this book appeal. Wherever men and women are thankful for a Republic saved to a glorious future, there these stories told by army nurses will be welcome. Wherever a student of history desires to know the full explanation of the enthusiasm with which the Northern armies fought their great battles, in this book he will find something of an answer. What these women did on the field of carnage and amidst terrible conditions, discloses the spirit pervad- ing the people of the North. They were willing to dare everything for the sake of union and liberty. The following pages will also prove fragrant with the blossoms of compassion. If Christian civilization must have its wars, greatly for defense, it is something to be able to record the tender ministrations which alleviate many horrors. The army nurses were ministers of light and love, passing and repassing over the dark scenes of these stormy years. This book, wliich has been compiled by Miss Holland, herself an army nurse, is like a gath- ered sheaf of precious harvesting. Let us remember that there were many women unknown and unfamed who did faithful service. Yet their glory is a part with these whose names we read with pride in this volume. No one can peruse this suggestive, inspiring work without rising at the end with deep admiration, quickened patriotism, and a stronger faith in human kind. Rev. Ei)WAi;i) A. Hokton. Boston, Mass. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Miss Mary A. Gardner Holland, Frontispiece. PAGE. DuNKER Church 10 Bombardment of Fort Sumter 14 National Monument, Gettysburg, Pen N. 27 Mrs. Dorothea Lynde Dix 28 Mary A. Livermore 36 Scene in Richmond after Battle of ] ^AIR ( Daks 40 Clara Barton .... 42 Mrs. Fowle 66 Mary Prinole 80 Dr. Nancy M. Hill . 82 Mary A. Loomis . 86 Mrs. E31MA L. Simonds 88 Margaret Hayes 90 Elizabeth B. Nichols 94 M. Alice Frush 100 Mrs. Pamelia Reid 104 Julia S. Tompkins 106 Belle Coddington 110 Ruth Helena .Sinnotte 124 Elizabeth S. Ward 132 Lucy F. Barron 134 Rena L. Miner 138 Field Hospital, Savage St \TION 142 Vesta M. W. Swarts 144 FALLEN Marsh 148 Clara B. Hoyt 154 Margaret INIackey 156 Emily M. Cone 158 MoDENiA R. Weston 162 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Maria W. Aubey 166 Mrs. Wm. N. Si'Rague 170 Lucy L. C. Kaiser 174 Elizabeth J. Dudley . 188 Susan M. Babcock 190 Elizabeth P. Hunt 192 Mr. S. C. Wright, with Sketch of I ^^URSE Moir 19C) Hannah C. Sheppard 204 Estelle S. Johnson 206 Mrs. Emily E. Woodley 214 Mrs. Mary J. Watson 216 Jannette Maxwell Morrill 220 Mrs. Elizabeth E. Ellis . 224 Mrs. E. F. Cope 226 Martha A. Baker 228 Mrs. Emma F. Sackett 232 Sarah K. Clark 236 Jane E. Dunbar 238 Mary A. Stinebough-Bradford 242 Miss Mary Venard . . . 254 Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson 258 Hanna L. Palmer 260 Mary M. Briggs . . . . 270 Lauraetta C. Balch . 274 Mary A. Ellis .... 276 Louisa E. Kamp •. 280 Amanda M. Felch 282 Mary E. Moore 29 2 Lois H. Dunbar 294 Rebecca Wiswell 298 Mrs. Daniel Schkam 304 Nancy M. Gross 308 Susan Cox .... 312 Miss Elizabeth Wheeler 314 Mary Perkins .... 322 Martha F. Jennison 326 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Mrs. M. J. Bunch Ki! Margaret Hamilton . Margaret A. Weed Mrs. Elizabeth Lucas Mrs. Mary Y. Knowles Betsey A. Cook Eunice M. Brown, nee Fairbank Mrs. Elvira Mason Jane M. Worrall Fannie A. Harper Elizabeth O. Gibson Matilda E. Morris Mrs. Cecilia White . Mrs. L. H. Husington Adeliza Perry Mary E. Darling Mrs. Hannah E. Starbird Mrs. M. J. Boston Mrs. Rebecca R. Pomkoy . Sophronia E. Brecklin Elizabeth A. Hyatt Kate M. Duncan Adelaide E. Spurgeon Mrs. Fannie H. Titus-Hazen Mrs. Delia B. Fay Sumner's Advance at Antietem M. V. Harkin . Mrs. J. T. Richards Mary E. Bell . Mrs. Helen E.. Smith '' Mother" Ransom "Mother" Bickerdyke Helen Gilson Appomatox Court House, \'a. Lee's Shattered Army TAGE. 330 33G 344 350 354 356 360 372 376 382 386 390 402 406 412 41.S 422 424 432 442 446 452 454 466 476 482 486 4;m; 500 504 510 516 534 545 546 10 OUR ARMY NURSES. INTRODUCTION. To no class of people are the soldiers of the late war more indebted than to the Army Nurses. How the eyes of the old veteran fill with tears when, at our camp fires, some old lady is introduced, and the presiding officer says, " Boys, she was an army nurse." For a moment the distinguished officers present are forgotten, and they gather around the dear old lady, eager to grasp her hand and say some kind and loving word in appreciation of her services. I have often witnessed such a greeting at the annual reunion of New Hampshire veterans at the Weirs, when Aunt Harriet Dame has been presented. The work of the army nurse began as soon as Sumter was. fired upon. Within thirty days after the call for 75,000 men, made by President Lincoln, April 14, 1861, the Woman's Central Association, of New York, had chosen, from hundreds of candidates, one hundred competent women to be trained by the physicians and surgeons of New York as nurses in the army hospitals. June 10, 1861, Miss Dorothea Dix was appointed, by the Secretary of War, Superintendent of female nurses. She gave herself up, without compensation, to the selection of competent nurses. Secretary Stanton vested her Avith full power to appoint army nurses in the hospitals, and she cheer- fullv gave her labor and her fortune to the cause. Nurses selected by her, and others, who followed the several regi- ments to the front, were found on every battlelield from Bull n 12 INTRODUCTION. Run to Appomattox. They were in every hospital, minister- ing to the sick, wounded, and dying of the Union Army. An incident of their devotion and angelic loveliness came under my personal observation. At the battle of Antietam my brother fell, mortally wounded. For two days I was unable to obtain any trace of him, as, by change of front, the rebels held the j^ortion of the field where he lay. As soon as they retreated I found him near an old haystack in a barnyard at the right of Dunker Church. I saw at once that he could live only a few days, and was anxious to get him where he could have medical attendance, and, calling an •ambulance, had him taken to a field hospital near Sharps- burg. As I was kneeling by his side, taking his last message to our dear mother, a voice said, "Is this your brother?" and looking up I saw the sweet face of a woman, and by her side a sergeant of the Philadelphia Fire Zouaves. That woman was Mrs. Mary Lee, of Philadelphia. She had given her only son to his country, and had followed him to the field. I explained to her how my brother and I had enlisted together, and that, being in command of the com- pany, and under orders to march at once, I could not stay vs^ith him. She said, " I will take his mother's place," and •she nursed him until he died; then saw him buried, his grave marked, and in a few days wrote me all the sad circumstances. When the war was over I met Mrs. Lee in Philadelphia. She followed the old Second Division, Second Corps, to the end. She wore on her breast a gold Corps badge, presented by the boys of the 72d Pennsylvania. God spared her son, and I have visited the family in their happy home. A few years ago Mrs. Lee passed to a higher life, mourned liy all the men in the old Corps, who loved her as a mother. It Avould be invidious to mention by name Avhere so INTRODUCTION. 13 many served. Miss Clara Barton served from first to last ; " Mother " Bickerdyke, who was called by General Sherman, one of his best generals ; Mrs. Mary A. Liver- more, who served in the Army of the West; Miss Gilson, who was attached to the transfer service in the Chicka- liominy campaign and with the Army of the Potomac in the Wilderness; and a host of others, all sacrificing and suffering as much as any soldier in the ranks. The pay of those regularly mustered in the service was twelve dollars, per month; but hundreds never waited to be mustered in,, only desiring to serve where duty called, without pay or hope of reward. Many died of exposure and disease contracted in the ser- vice. Many returned with health impaired ; and some, be it said with shame and sorrow, died in poverty. Until within a few years no official recognition has ever been given them by the Government which they served so well. Some three years since a pension bill was passed, giving them twelve dollars a month, ])ut the record of their service is so imperfect that it is almost impossible to prove a claim, and a large proportion go to their graves unrecognized and unrewarded; yet while their names are written on no army roll, and but few books have been published telling the story of their services, their memory will ever live in the hearts of the veterans they nursed with such tender care, and they will never grow weary of telling to their children and children's children the story of the loving, tender, and Christian minis- trations of those "-angels of mercy." John G. B. Adams, Fast National Commander G. A. li. 14 OUR ARMY NURSES. TO THE READER ^AVIXG conceived the plan of the army nurses ^ writing an abbreviated sketch of their war * record to put in book form, I undertook the ^-^ arduous work of securing the addresses of all I could locate, and have received letters and photo- graphs of more than can be contained in this book. I trust that the outcome of the work may be an open- ing of the way of communication between nurse and patient, a desire on the part of many, covering the period of intervening years since the war. Many a veteran will here be able to look into the face of his faithful nurse who stood by him in those terrible days of suffering. Friends who have sur- vived the soldier who has passed the last roll-call, must look with equal interest upon the faces of those who by force of circumstances took their places to watch and Avait, to cheer and comfort the loved hus- band, father, son, or brother who responded to our country's call. With some it was hard to decide the question, " Shall I leave my home and dear ones, mayhap never to return?" But while the decision lay trembling in the balance, the bugle call sounded, and the martial tread Avas heard, — tramp ! tram}) ! tramp ! Our boys, imiformed in blue, are coming over the mountains, from the river-side, and through the valleys. ^o^Y the thunder of the engine is heard in the distance. 16 OUR ARMY NURSES. It comes nearer, and yet nearer, until the eye of the locomotive rests npon the multitude gathered upon the phitform. Grief is too great to allow confusion or bustle. The little groups apart exchange the part- ing words. The hour has come. The inevitable farewell must now be given, — and the last hand- clasj). The shrill whistle warns a hurried good-bye, and "God bless you!" echoes and re-echoes as the iron steed bears our boys aw^ay. Oh, how many of them, on those fateful days, had in reality given the last "farewell"! Sorrowfully the weeping wife led her little ones back to the desolate hearthstone, to gather them in a fond embrace and tell them of their soldier father, — how he had gone to strike back the rebel arm that would trail our Stars and Stripes in the dust, and dishonor its glorious record. And the old mother, bending a little with age, with trembling hand lifts the latch that last closed when her son went out to return no more, ^o ^*en can depict the sorrows that shadowed the lonely homes our soldiers left during those foiu- years of blood- shed, — four years of anxiety and watching for news of the next battle and its results ; four years of suffer- ing on the part of our soldiers, tenting in swamps, mai'ching through the mud of Southern soil, on, double-fpiick, to the scene of carnage! The tierce contest has begun, — and they bare their defenseless bodies to the shot and shell of our Southern bi'others, whose big guns sweep furrows through our ranks. The gaps are immediately closed, our boys falling dead- or disabled. OUR ARMY NURSES. 17 What more fitting place for women with holy motives and tenderest sympathy, than on those fields of blood and death, or in retreats prepared for onr suffering heroes? QYe are glad even at this late date to record upon these pages, the names of as many nurses as we have been enabled to gather. ]S"o lapse of years can cool the patriotism that urged them to the responsibilities they took npon themselves, and the same spirit breathes in every line of contribu- tion to this book, that actuated their deeds during the dark days of the Civil AVar:jdays that tried men's souls, while women wept in grief and sympathy. All risked life, — thousands met death while the strugfo-le went on that preserved for ns the sheltei'ing folds of our flag, that " grand emblem of protection to home and native land." It seems to me that had I died battling for my countr}' 's honor, that my right hand would almost leap from its entombed dust to strike back the arm that would dare drag our flao;- from its high standard of glory, — the grandest em- blem of the grandest country that lies under God's sunshine ! Let no foe dare molest that flag, and thus insult our country. Such would be compelled to retreat to their own corners in dismay, for the spirit of the old Revolution days burned in the hearts of om' country- men dnring the Civil War, and is transmitted to the rising generation. Our boys and girls are taught in many of the schools to salute the flag, and SAvear allegiance to "one country, one flag, one language." Though my place is small in comparison to that of many heroic women of the war, I feel the assur- 18 OUR ARMY NURSES. ance that the Recording Angel has borne my name to Him who has said, "As ye have done it nnto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." And when the key unlocks to us the mysteries of life, and opens the unknown future, may it be said of all army nurses, " They did what they could," and " Well done, good and faithful ser- vant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." My service in hos])itals covered a period of nearly fourteen months. The, first gun fired on Sumter iired every drop of my blood. Had it been possible I should have made my appearance at the first battle of Bull Run. I had an aged mother, who depended almost altogether upon me for her support, and that duty deterred me. At one time I said to her, " It seems to me that I must go to the war." I worked for her and for m3\self during the day, and on Sani- tary Conunission work evenings. I told her there were married women, with families of half-grown girls, who could not go to the front, but could do all I was doing. She had long known my desire to be identified with some more important work, so after considering calmly for a few moments she answered, " Well, my daughter, if you can go under govern- ment protection, your mother is willing." " But," I answered, " you cannot spare me." She continued the same reflective attitude and repeated what she had just said, adding: "God will take care of your mother. If you ever go, do all you can, and tell the dying boys of God and heaven." From that day I left no method untried to go OUR ARMY NURSES. 19 under government protection ; but not until early in the spring of 1864 did I accomplish my desire. I had tried to enlist under Miss Abbie May, of Boston. At one time it seemed that my plans were well nigh completed to go to Fortress Monroe, where Mrs. Lander was trying to establish a hospital. She failed in her enterprise, and I was doomed to further delay. Later, I procured one of Miss Dix's circulars, and read it again and again. It appeared to me a queer demand. It read like this : " ^NTo woman under thirty years need apply to serve in government hos- pitals. All nurses are required to be very plain- looking women. Their dresses must be brown or black, with no bows, no curls, or jewelry, and no hoop-skirts." It was fashionable at that time to wear immense hoops. I had worn one for some time, and really felt it a sacrifice to leave it off. Other requirements were agreeable, but I felt I could not walk without a hoop. I said, " Well, if I can't w^alk without it, I will crawl; for I must go, and I will do the best I can." Soon after this I took up a morning paper and read that the wounded were being brought into Washington so fast that more help was needed at -once. I wrote immediately to Miss Dix, saying: ''I am in possession of one of your circulars, and will comply with all your requirements. I am plain- looking enough to suit you, and old enough. I have no near relatives in the war, no lover there. I never had a husband, and am not looking for one. Will you take me?" In a few days her answer 20 OUR ARMY NURSES. came : " Report at once at my house, corner of 14th Street and New York Avenue, Washington." She labeled me so nicely that had I been a box of glass I think I should have gone safely, and gave me. instructions to procure transportations at Nos. 12 and 13 Temple Place, Boston. She first quartered me at Columbia College Hospi- tal, Meridian Heights, Washington . From there I went to the Seminary Hospital, West Washington — all offi- cers. Then to Annapolis. I served mostly in charge of linen rooms, and as matron ; doing the principal part of real nursing evenings, and sometimes all night after having attended to the duties assigned me during the day. My work was very hai'd, as I did not feel satisfied to fill the places given me and not attend to the wounded men. I would like to mention a case in the Officers' Hos- pital at Georgetown, D. C. One evening there were nine wounded officers brought in, and consigned to the convalescent ward, Rebecca Wiswall, of Ply- mouth, Mass., nurse in charge. This ward was on the same floor where I was acting as matron. I as- sisted the male attendants in giving the wounded officers their supper. The doctors and Miss Wis- wall attended to dressing their wounds. One of the number, a young man about twenty-three years of age, was laid on a bed across the hall from my room, and nearly opposite. Lieutenant Lee had died on that cot in the morning. It was a distressing death; he was two days dying. His poor mother was with OUR ARMY NURSES. 21 him, and the scene was terrible. The young man phiced on the cot that evening was only sHghtly wounded. A spent ball had entered the left forearm and lodged, but had been removed by the surgeon before bringing him to the hospital. As soon as all were located, a dispatch was sent to his father in Pennsylvania, saying, "In Officers' Hospital, George- town, slightly wounded." The return had come be- fore I left the room, "Shall we come to you?" When all had received attention. Aunt Becky, as she was familiarly called, stepped to my side, and as we stood in the doorway, looking over the ward, I asked her how many of the last arrivals she thought would pull through. Pointing to one poor fellow she said, " He may not live until morning," then spoke of two other doubtful cases. I said, "I think that young man behind the door will die." "Oh, no," was her reply ; " he is the most slightly wounded of any." In the morning I went to his bedside, and said, " How did you get on during the night? " "Oh, very well." His voice was sweet as a woman's; his face was beautiful. Large drops of sweat stood out all over his high, white forehead. I could see a change in him from the evening before. I wiped away the perspiration, and fanned him for a few minutes. When I left him he said, "Must you go?" "To breakfast," I replied. " I will come in again soon." All the nm-ses had preceded me to the table, and Aunt Becky said: "Miss Holland, your premonitions a])out that young man were correct. He must die." I asked what the shiver meant that passed over him 22 OUR ARMY NURSES. SO frequently. " The lockjaw. We were with him half the night after you left, but can do nothing to save him." Very soon I took my place by his cot, and left it only for a few moments at a time to attend to the direction of other duties, as I was then acting matron. His spasms were frequent and severe all the forenoon. Just before noon he came out of one^ and asked, "Is my case a critical one?" "My dear boy, I fear it is," I said. He went into another, and when he came out of it said, " If anything haj^pens to me send my body home." A moment after he said, "Mother!" loud and clear; then his teeth came to- gether with a crash, and he passed away in that struggle, at just twelve o'clock noon. I had retired to my room that evening. It was about half past ten Avhen I heard a great wail of grief in the steward's office. Those sounds were frequent, yet every time they touched a tender chord of pity in my heart, and I said aloud, though alone, " Some poor soul has come and found that the dear one is gone." Presently there was a knock at my door. I inquired, and the answer was from the steward's orderly, "Mr. Pollock has come, and the steward wants you in the office." The poor old father was in a reclining position, with both hands pressed against his face. I stood in the middle of the floor waiting, as I had not the heart to approach such intense grief. "When the steward said, " Mr. Pollock, here is the woman who gave your son his last supper," he lifted his face to mine, then fell pi'one upon the floor. He wound my OUR ARMY NURSES. 23 skirts about his face, not knowing what he did. At length he became a httle calmer, and told us that Chester was his only boy. He had graduated from coUeo-e, and had just entered upon what he had de- termined a life work as a lawyer, when his country called him to her defense, in which he had given his life. Over and over I told the old father the story of his coming into the hospital the evening before, and of his suffering through the forenoon of that day. He wanted me to go home with him, that the invalid wife and mother might look upon the woman who gave their boy his last supper. He offered every in- ducement in money and presents, but I could not be spared. I think the boy's first name was Chester; I am not sure. His last name was Pollock, his com- mission a lieutenant. For a few days I was quartered at the Lincoln Barracks Hospital, East Capitol Street, D. C. I had a nephew there, William K. Nason, from Maine. He was badly wounded. Miss Dix had sent me there for a week, to do anything that I saw needed to be done. My nephew had his father with him, so I was not required to do much for him. I looked up and down the ward, to ascertain where I might be most needed. ^N'ear the far end I saw a pale face half covered with flies. I went to the cot, and found the poor fellow had suffered twenty days with a fractured ankle bone, then had an amputation between the knee and the ankle. The surgeon, for some reason better known to himself than to any one else, had left the stump open; had not drawn the flesh over the end 24 OUR ARMY NURSES. of the bone, as is usual in amputations, but was to bandage it close, and more closely until healed. After suppuration had commenced the artery sluffed off, and the night before I found him he had 1)1 ed fearfully after lights had been turned down. The watchman was passing the foot of the bed, and slij^ped on the blood; he then called the surgeon, who put a compress on the leg above the knee, burned the end of the artery, and sto})ped the flow. I had been by the cot but a few minutes, when the surgeon and orderly came in again. The surgeon threw back the sheet in a careless way, almost roughly, and picked at the end of the arter}^ The blood spurted, and he made another turn on the com- press, saying, "We must hunt for that artery again." The poor boy said in a whisper, the first I had heard him speak, "Can't you wait till morning?" It was morning then; you can miderstand how weak he was. They gave him a glass of brandy and went at the wound. I thought from the quantities of blood that followed the almost inhuman treatment, that his life w^ould go out ere the trial ended. But he lived through it, and I stayed by him four days. Every morning I took him a quart of delicious blackberries. He ate those, but took no other food. The morning of the fifth day I said : " I must go away this noon, and cannot come to you again. Have you mother, wife, or sister to send for? I fear you are too weak to rally." "^o one w4io could come," he replied. " Give me your address." I wrote it, and he said, " ^ow put it into the book under my pillow." It Avas OUR ARMY NURSES. 25 ■a Testament, and my address was deposited therein. I bade him good-bye, and spoke a httle of the heavenly land, then left him. In about two months I received a letter, saying the only excuse he had for writing to me was that he had not strength to thank me when I left him, and he believed the blackbei-ries I gave him had saved his life. That day he had been on crutches beside his cot for the first time, and but for a minute ; hoped he should soon be transferred to his own State. I have forgotten where he lived, but if this should ever meet the eye of John Tucker, I hope to hear from him. I could add many thrilling incidents to this brief journal, but forbear, that I may give space for the lai-ge number of contributions to this book, many of them having barely place for their j^resent address. Mary A. Gardxek Holland. 26 OUR ARMY NURSES. BURIED WITH THE FLAG. An army nurse, returning home from her work among the woundecT to die, requested that she might be buried with the old flag wrapped around her. — '•'■Woman's Work in the Civil War," page ^^^. Home she went exhausted, dying, With her soldier- husband lying At her side with battle scars. And she said : "When death has found me, Soothed me into rest and crowned me, Wrap the flag I love around me, With the glorious Stripes and Stars." With the Stars and Stripes wrapped round her She was speaking truth profounder Than the bugle ever brayed ; While the patriot women render To the Flag a love so tender, Not a stripe shall lose its splendor. Not one star shall ever fade. And the earth that closed upon her Seemed to rise up with new honor And draw nearer unto God ; While all hearts were rent asunder With a thrill of awe and wonder As the Stars and Stripes went under The very ground they trod. Oh ! the sweet and tender story Of these patriot souls sheds glory On the Flag forever more. We shall love the cause they wrought for, We shall seek the end they sought for, We shall guard the flag they fought for. And in living, dying, bore. — Rev. Alfred J. Hough, Bradford, Vt. OUR ARMY NURSES. 27 NATIONAL MONUMENT, GETTYSBURG, PENN. 28 OUR ARMY NURSES. DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX. •ffn flDemori^ of Dorotbea X\>nbc S^iy. /^ X the 17th of July, 1887, occurred the death of I I Dorothea Lynde Dix ; a woman whose memory ^^ will be kept green until acts of humanity be- come so common that they are passed by without comment. She was born in 1802, and her early life was bleak, humiliating, and painful. Her father not being able to take care of her she soon left his roof, and found an abiding place, but scarcely a home, with her grand- mother in Boston. She possessed exceptional energy and ambition, and early determined to fit herself for a teacher. While one side of her character seemed that of an earnest, unenthusiastic worker, the other was excep- tionally sensitive, and full of beautiful ideals. She reveled in poetry, and worshiped intellectual great- ness; but she was above a selfish absorption in these, for poverty and ignorance appealed to her strongly, and she early began to work for poor and neglected children. For these she opened a school in the barn of her grandmother's house, which was the beginning of the beneficent work afterward carried on at Warren- Street Chapel, now the Barnard Memorial, on War- renton Street. 30 OUR ARMY NURSES. Miss Dix also had a small day school, which after- wards developed into a large combined boarding and day school. While she had charge of this school, which required the most assiduous labor and execu- tive ability, she was writing a book that became a familiar friend to many families a generation ago. It was called the "Science of Common Things," and in a comprehensive, easy manner gave a great deal of valuable information about the ordinary things used in the household. It had a place in almost every home, and was a standard reference. One could find in it infoi-mation about everything, from a needle to a nutmeg; and in any perplexity " Common Things " was consulted as an oracle. This little book passed through sixty editions. Other later books were " Garland of Flora," " Pri- vate Hours," " Alice and Ruth," " Prisons and Prison Discipline." At last, on account of poor health, the school was relinquished, and she became a governess in the family of Dr. W. E. Channing. It was while a member of his family that she went to the island of St. Croix, and obtained her first glimpse of the evils of slavery. After her return to Boston, being in better health, she again took up school work, which was pursued with zeal until 1836, when she broke down utterly, and, accompanied by friends, went abroad for rest and change. She had saved enough money to afford her a modest income suited to her wants. It was not until 1811 that Miss Dix was brought OL'R AR3TV NCrRSES. 31 face to face witli the horrible condition of thing-s that existed in the prisons and ahnshouses of Massachnsetts. She visited the jail of East Cambridge, and found a terrible overcrowding of innocent, guilty and insane prisoners. She then visited all the other prisons of the State, finding such a horrible condition of affairs that she addressed a memorial to the Legislature on the subject, giving a graphic description of the abuses suffered by the insane poor. Her enthusiasm on the subject enlisted the atten- tion of Dr. S. G. Howe, Charles Sumner, and others. Public opinion was aroused by the horrors unveiled by Miss Dix ; politicians were overwhelmed, a bill for relief immediately carried, and an order passed to provide State accommodations for two hundred insane people. Thus her first step was taken. Then the convic- tion came to her that all over the United States the same appalling story was true of the wretched fate of the pauper insane. She felt that she must visit State after State, collect facts, besiege Legislatures, and arouse public o^^inion. It was a stupendous work, but this frail woman, with a grasp of intellect worthy of a statesman, accomplished it. Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and I^ew Jersey all show her work to-day. Pennsylvania followed. She made long journeys ^orth and South, East and West, always canying hope for the unfortunate. In nine years she had carried for reforms the Legislatures of Indianna, Illinois, Kentucky, Tennesee, Missouri, Mis- 32 OUR ARMY NURSES. sissippi, Louisiana, Alabama, South and ^orth Caro- lina and Maryland, besides establishing an asylum at Halifax, N. S., and St. John, :N'. B. For several sessions she petitioned Congress to grant a large tract of land for the benefit of the insane, but after years of work upon the subject the bill was vetoed by President Pierce. After this dis- appointment Miss Dix again visited Europe, and on her return became interested in the work of saving shij^wrecked mariners on Sable Island, which had long been called the Graveyard of Seamen. While Miss Dix was visiting the place a wreck occurred, and she saw how inadequate to save life Avere the means at hand. Through the co-operation of several citizens of Boston, Miss Dix sent life-boats and other life-saving paraphernalia to Sable Island. The day after these arrived a large ship was wrecked on the island, and by means of this apparatus one hundred and eighty souls were saved. In 1854-55 she investigated, not without opposi- tion, the condition of insane hospitals in Scotland, and found in them a repetition of what she had seen here. She at once began moving the great and cum- brous engine of English law to reform these abuses, but it was not until 1857, after years of labor and opposition, that the object was accomplished. Her attention was then called to similar abuses in the Channel Islands. After thirteen years of agita- tion a large public asjdum for the humane and scientific treatment of the demented was built. OUR ARMY NURSES. 33 She also inspected the asyhims in Rome, finding' so much to condemn that she obtained an audience with Pope Pius IX. She was received with the greatest kindness, and her reveUitions intently listened to. Later the Pope visited the asylum, and found so many shocking things that, at a second audience, he thanked Miss Dix that she, " a woman and a Protes- tant, had crossed the seas to call his attention to these cruelly ill-treated members of his flock." On her return to America, until the breaking out of the Civil AYar, in 1861, Miss Dix devoted herself to hospital work, aiding new institutions and directing older ones. In all, she founded thirty-two hospitals, besides two in Japan, that owe their inception to her influence. Dui'ing the war she devoted herself to hospital work. She was superintendent of nurses, having the entire control of their appointment and assignment to duty. At the close of the war she was instrumental in raising the funds for the great national monument for dead soldiers at Fortress Monroe. In the latter days of Miss Dix's career it may be said that no benevolent project ever lacked her sup- port. It might be as simple a thing as a drinking fountain in a densely populated district in Boston, or collecting money for the suffering from some great conflaorration. AYork for others was still her mis- sion, and though she was loaded with praise and honor for the great things accomplished, she was as unostentatious as a child, and looked always for the results, and never at her own efforts. She was 34 OUR ARMY NURSES. revered like a jjutron saint by many who had reaped the benefit of her care. She dropped at, last, with the harness on, while ready as ever to work for others. Her mind was clear to the last, and she was always interested in what had been her life work. In commemoration of her is the Dix Ward in the McLean Asylum at Somerville, the Dixmont Hospital of Pennsylvania, and the Dorothea L. I^ix House on Warrenton Street, just opposite the Barnard Memo- rial, which was the first fruits of the seed sown by Miss Dix in 1821. Her biographer, Rev. Francis Tiffany, speaks of one very tender trait in her nature, and that was her friendship for young people, and her desire to see them happily settled in homes of their own. That in her the social element was strongly developed, and that, when a lonely Avorker, she coveted what was denied her — the society of cultured people. It is this in her character that is exemjDlified in the life at the house on AYarrenton Street. This little social center comprises a group of working women, teachers, artists, and a physician, who have made a home for themselves amid a set of other workers, not in any sense in a charitable way, but to be among those who also work. Their occupations giving them a little more leisure than others, they devote certain nights of the week to society, and invite the neighbors in for a pleasant evening. Incidentally they have some talks on various live OUR ARMY NURSES. 35 topics of the day, with music, and, when occasion requires, helpful words to each other. The life at the Dix House has been misrepre- sented; for it is not an alms-giving from the wealthy to the poor, but the social life among- workers, to help to brighten, by mutual intercourse and confi- dence, and make pleasanter, toilsome lives. If, in her visits, the physician meets some of the very poor who need aid, the matter is looked into, and help is forthcoming; but the real help is more, perhaj^s, that of amusement, to while away the weary hours. During the summer some of the occupants of the house will be away on vacation, and the use of their room is offered, free of charge, to any girl earning small wages who would be glad to save expense. Application can be made at the house. UNKNOWN GRAVES, NATIONAL CEMETERY, GETTYSBURG, PENN. 36 OUR ARMY NURSES. Ik ^nyrsRS. MARY ASHTON RICE LIYERMOEE If I was born in Boston, Mass., December 19, / ^ 1821. Her father, Timothy Rice, of North- ^ - ^ field, Mass., who was of AVelsh descent, iserved in the United States Xavy during the war of 1812-15. Her mother, Zel)iah Yose Glover Ashton, was the daughter of Capt. Nathaniel Ashton, of Lon- don, Eng. Mrs. Livermore was placed in the public schools of Boston at an eai'ly age, and was gradu- ated at fourteen, receiving one of the six medals dis- tributed for good scholarship. There w^ere then no high, normal, or Latin schools for girls, and their admission to colleges was not even suggested. She was sent to the Female Seminary in Charlestown, Mass., now Boston, where she completed the four years' course in two, when she was elected a member of the faculty, as teacher of Latin and French. While teaching she continued her studies in Latin, Greek, and metaphysics, under tutors; resigning her position at the close of the second year, to take charge of a family school on a plantation in Southern Yirginia, where she remained nearly three years. As there were between four and five hundred slaves on the estate, Mrs. Livermore was brought face to face with the institution of slavery, and witnessed deeds of barbai-ism as tragic as any described in "LTncle Tom's Cabin." She returned to the North a 37 38 OUR ARMY NURSES. radical Abolitionist, and henceforth entered the lists against slavery, and every form of oppression. She was identified with the AVashingtonian Teni- pei'ance Keform ])efore her marriage; was on the editoral staff of a juvenile tem])erance paper, organ- ized a Cold Water Army of fifteen hundred boys and girls, for whom she wrote temperance stories, which she i-ead to them and which were afterwards published in book form, under the title of '' The Chil- dren's Arm3^" In 1857 the Livei'mores i*emoved to Chicago, 111., where Mr. Livermore became proprietor and editor of a weekly religious paper, the organ of the Universalist denomination in the ^N^orthwest, and Mrs. Livermore became his associate editor. At the first nomination of Abraham Lincoln for the Presi- dency, in the Chicago Wigwam, in 1860, she was the only woman reporter assigned a place among a hundred or more men reporters. Out of the chaos of benevolent eftbrts evolved by the opening of tlie Civil War, in 1861, the United States Sanitary Commission was born. Mrs. Livermore, with her friend Mrs. Jane C. Hoge^ was identified with i-elief work for the soldiers, from the beginning. Mrs. Livermore resigned all ]3ositions save that on her husband's paper, secured a governess for her children, and subordinated all de- mands upon her time to those of the Commission. She organized Soldiers' Aid Societies; delivered pub- lic addresses in the principal towns and cities of the Northwest; wrote letters by the hundreds, personally and Ijy amanuenses, and answered all that she re- OUR ARMY NURSES. 39 ceived; Avrote the circulars, bulletins, and monthly I'epoi'ts of the Commission; made trips to the front Avith sanitary stores, to whose distribution she gave personal attention; brought back large numbers of invalid soldiers who were discharged, that they might die at home; assisted to plan, organize, and conduct colossal Sanitary Fairs ; detailed women nurses for the hospitals, by order of Secretary Stanton, and accom- panied them to their posts: in short, the story of women's work during the war has never been told, and can never be understood save by those connected with it. The war over, Mrs. Livermore resumed the former tenor of her life, and took up again the phil- anthropic and literary work which she had tempo- rarily relinquished. ^Notwithstanding her many years of hard service, she is still in vigorous health. Happy in her home, and in the society of her husband, children, and grnndchildi-en, she keeps steadily at work with voice, and pen, and influence, ready to lend a hand to the weak and struggling, to strike a blow for the right against the wrong, to prophesy a better future in the distance, and to insist on a woman's right to help it along. Since her return from Chicago, her home has been in Melrose, Mass. 40 OUR ARMY NURSES. 'ii '' ' r STREET SCENE IN RICHMOND AFTER BATTLE OF FAIR OAKS. 42 OUR ARMY NURSES. CLARA BARTON. ^^HE work of Miss Clara Barton during the late (s) (s) war, as that of Miss Dix, is too well known to reqnire fnrther comment; but the Red Cross ^ ^ movement, of which she is the pioneer Ameri- can champion, has been so qnietly and modestly managed that our people, as a rule, know httle about the Societ}^, although it has been in existence for al)out thirty years, and the American Branch for eleven. The Society of the Red Cross is to-day one of the most important philanthropic organizations in the world, whose results prove it the most productive and beneficent. Briefly stated, it is a confederation of societies in diffei-ent countries, having as an aim the amelioration of the condition of sick and wounded prisoners in time of war. But to mider- stand its spirit, we nmst glance over past history, through bar]:)arous and semi-barbarous ages, and even np to the time of wars as recent as the Napo- leonic, and we see organized, systematic wounding aud slaughtering of men; but not until three centuries ago was there any system, supported by the State, by which the victims could be aided in any way, and until a very recent date there was no hospital system worthy the name. AVe cannot but wonder that such a condition of things existed so late in the history of the world; but the very fact that miiversal war was 43 44 OUR ARMY NURSES. tolerated, was sufficient to prevent a spirit of humanity from developing in the hves of men. However, when that spirit was once aroused it grew rapidly, and since the campaigns of Napoleon, no war has occurred in Europe without voluntary relief societies spi'inging up to aid the disabled, though their efficiency was lessened by lack of organization and permanency. When the war between Russia and the Allied Powers broke out, in 1853, all Europe, and especially England, had been awakened to a different feeling toward the common soldier than had ever been cherished before. Only a certain knowledge of the inhumanities practiced upon the disabled was now needed to arouse the English to fierce indignation. That knowledge was furnished by the newspa])er cor- respondent who went with the army to Crimea. All the horrors of j^estilence and blood were faith- fully portrayed, and the reproach of all unnecessary suffering laid where it justly belonged, upon the gov- ernments that had failed to provide efficient sanitary service. Then, and not till then, did the truth become a clearly outlined idea, that the military power prob- ably never could provide and keep in operation an adequate medical service through a long campaign. Face to face with this fact, and appalled by the awful disaster, the Minister of War, Lord Sydney Herbert, wrote to Miss Florence Nightingale for help. A letter from her asking permission to help was even then on its way to him. A few days later she was on her wav to the scenes of war. Here was the OUR ARMY NURSES. 45 beginning of a system by which the misery of soldiers is reduced to the lowest degree jDossible under present conditions. The history of Miss Xightingale and her three hun- dred companions is a familiar household story. She has become one of the most revered and beloved ideals. ]N^ow we come to the immediate events which led to the organization of the Red Cross, under which every state in Europe has to-day an organization, together with many other nations. A Swiss gentleman, named Henri Dunant, first conceived the idea of ])ermanent societies similar to the temporaiy ones that had already come into exist- ence for some special occasion, and that these societies be formed among all the nations, and be bound to- gether by solemn pledges to prevent unnecessary suf- fering where possible. In 1859 he was traveling in Italy Avhen the battle of Solferino occurred, and for some days I'emained in the hospitals, helping to care for the wounded. Soon he published a little l)ook describing the scenes he had witnessed there, vividly picturing the horrors of war. The book created a w ide-spread sensation, and he determined to present his theories to the Society of Public Utility. Accordingly at their next meeting he presented this measure, viz.: that the central society form auxiliary societies, each organization to be permanent, and in time of peace, work to increase its ethciency. Each central society was to labor especially to secure the I'ecognition of its govern- 46 OCR AR3rV A^CRSES. ment, and to establish symj^athetic relations between the society and the state. M. Dunant found an able advocate in the president of the Swiss Society, M. Gustav Moynier, who warmly approved his plans, and presented him to the society, which appointed a connnittee to take charge of the movement, and endeavor to intei'est other countries. As a result, an international conference was called in October, 18(33, where sixteen nations, including all the great European powers except Russia, were repi'esented. Under the authority of the Supreme Council of Switzerland, this conference called an International Convention, Avhich met at Geneva, August 8, 1864. It was well attended; there were present twenty-five membei'S eminent in diplomatic or military service or in medical science. All came, empowered by their several governments, to sign a treaty should it be deemed advisable. Here sixteen nations were again represented, and the deliberations occupied two weeks. The articles adopted were as follows: "That hospitals containing the sick and wounded shall lie held neutral by belligerants so long as thus occupied.'" The second and third provide for " the neutrality and security of all persons euiployed in the care of inmates of the hospitals, surgeons, chaplains, nurses, and attendants, even after the enemy has gained the ground; but when no longer required for the wounded, they shall be promptly conducted, luider escort, to the outposts of the enemy, to rejoin the OUR ARMY NURSES. 47 corps to which thc}^ belong-, thus preventing all oppor- tunity to roam fi-ee, and make observations under cover of neutrality." Article four settles the terms upon which the material of hospitals shall not be subject to cap- ture. Article five, with a view to quieting the fears of the inhabitants in the vicinity of a battle, Avho often flee in terror, as well as to secure their assistance and the comfort of their homes for the care of the wounded, offers military protection and certain exemptions to all who shall entertain and care for the wounded in their houses. Article six binds the parties contracting the treaty not only to give the requisite care and treatment to all sick and wounded who shall fall into their hands, but to see to it that their misfortune shall not be aggravated by the prospect of banishment or impris- onment; they shall not be retained as prisoners of war, but, if circumstances admit, may be given up immediately after the action, to be cared for by their own army, or, if retained until recovered, and found disabled for service, the}^ shall be safely returned to their country and friends ; and also that all convoys of sick and wounded shall be protected by absolute neutrality. Article seven provides for a flag for hospitals and convoys, and an arm badge for persons. The badge adopted was a red cross with four equal arms, on a white ground, this being the national ensign of Switzerland with the colors revei'sed. 48 OUR ARMY NURSES. Articles eight and nine provide for the details of execution being left open for the subsequent admis- sion of other governments. This treaty at first received twelve signatures, which was soon increased to sixteen. This is indeed a wonderful gain over the time when the w^ounded were left to starve, as a matter of course, and we see in it a beginning of the end of w^ar. When men fought face to face they became infuriated, and were like Avild beasts, so, naturally, no mercy would be shown a fallen enemy. Xow that our wai-s are freed from almost every trace of personal combat, and are simply deadly illustrations of the triumphs of inventive genius, and demonstrations of a country's w^ealth and power, such a treaty has be- come possible, and is in perfect harmony with an era that favors arl)iti-ation. Forty governments are now enrolled under the Red Cross, and the Avords '' wounded and a pris- oner" can never again freeze the heart Avith their icy touch of despair. ]N^ever again Avill the fallen perish in agony alone, for a well-knoAvn flag of truce will make it possible for a reHef corps to go to their aid, unquestioned and unharmed. The flrst act in each government after the treaty has been signed, is t<^ form a national central society,, which is independent, except so far as it owes allegi- ance to the International Society of Switzerland in respect to a few fundamental principles essential to unity of direction and successful action: "The first being, that in each country there shall l)e one ^N'ational OUR ARMY NURSES. 49 Society, to which the auxiliary societies shall be tributary; second, that the societies shall in time of peace keep themselves constantly prepared for war, thus securing permanency of organization; third, that during war their succor shall be extended to foe equally with friend, whenever necessary; fourth, that societies whose countries ai'e at peace may send relief to belligerent armies, without being considered to violate the j^rinciples of neutrality to which their governments may be pledged." " In Europe the cen- tral societies are under the patronage of men and women of rank, often the members of royal families. Of the first one formed, the German Empress, Augusta, grandmother of the pi-esent Emperor, was head, taking ardent interest in its affairs. Her daughter. Grand Duchess Louise, of Baden, fills the same position in the society of that country. Both these ladies were heart and soul in the Avork of the Red Cross." Germany took the movement to her heart at once, and when war came was fully prepared; no such provision having ever been known before. When the Franco-Prussian War broke out they were again in a condition of perfect efficiency. Hitherto France had done comparatively little, but after the war commenced, she threw herself into the work with unparalleled energy, and within a month a thorough system was established. What the condi- tion of France would have been without the aid of the Red Cross, the imagination dares not picture. Thus in 1871 the movement had an assured place in 50 OUR ARMV NUJ^SES. the hearts of grateful people, "ained hy its efRciency in time of need. We come now to the events which led to the for- mation of the society in America; but in order to understand the situation we must know something- of its President, Miss Chu-a Barton, whose work has been done so quietly that thousands in our own land Ivuow little about her beyond her nauie. At the beginning of our late RelK'llion she was in Washington. When news came that the troops on their way to the Capital had been fired upon, and that wounded men were lying in Baltimore, she volunteered with others to go and cai-e for them. She had entered upon what proved to lie her life work. From that time she was to be found in the hospitals, or Avherever soldiers were in need of at- tendance. Soon she was recognized as a woman of great ability and discretion, and could pass in and out at will, where others met with constant hin- drance by *' red tape." She met the wounded from Virginia ; she was pi'csent at the battles of Cedar Moinitain, Second Bull Run, Antietani and Fredericksburg; was eight months at the siege of Charleston, at Fort AVagner, in front of Petersburg and at the Wilderness. She was also at the hospitals near Richmond and on Morris Island. ISTeither were her labors over when the war ended, liut her tenderness and revei-ence led her to remain in Andersonville six weeks, to mark as many as possible of the thirteen thousand graves of Union prisoners who were l)uried there. OUR ARMY NURSES. 51 When this self-imposed task was over, her physi- cian ordered her to Europe for rest and change. But her splendid work on our battlefields was known abroad, and before her health was fully established, she was asked to join the relief corps of the Red Cross during the Franco-Prussian War. Her ex- perience and knowledge were eagerly sought, and she did heroic service. In 1869, when the International Connnittee learned that she was in Geneva, they called npon her to ask an explanation of the strange fact that while the Unitec^ States had shown the most tender care for its o\,- wounded, it had held aloof from the Red Cross. Miss Barton told them she had never heard of the Society nor of the Geneva Treaty while at home, and that she was certain that the United States, as a people, were totally ignorant that proposals such as they alluded to had ever been sul^mitted to the Gov- ernment, and showed her visitors how some single official could carelessly keep the people from any knowledge that such pi'oposals had been made to them. Of course she was aflame with enthusiasm for the movement, and shame that the United States was not a party to the treaty; and she resolved to give her- self no rest until our people were acquainted with the Treaty of Geneva. After the convention in 1868, in Pai-is, when the United States was represented by Dr. Hemy Bellows, the subject was again presented to our Government 52 OUR ARMY NURSES. I)V tluit gentleman, and, singnlariy enough, met only indift'erenee; however, throngh his efforts a society was formed, but it lacked the essentials to success; viz., the sanction tnid sympathy of government, and soon died. After tlie war in Europe was over, Miss Barton came home, an invalid, and lay upon her bed for years; and when at hist she ralhed, it was to begin almost as a child, and slowly acqiure even the poAver to walk. As soon as she Avas able she went to AYashing- ton and presented the suliject of the Treaty to Presi- dent Hayes, in 1877, and the cause w^as set forth l)y a committee of three women and one man. This effort won no response, but four years later, when Garfield was in the chaii-, the little society received assui'ances of sympathy from Government. Secretary Windom laid the subject before the Cal)inet, and the President and all his secretaries were at once cor- dially interested. Secretary Blaine wrote a warm letter of approval, and the President, in his first message to Congress, recommended our accession to the Treaty. This w^as seventeen years after the subject was first presented to our Government. The society of 1877 was reorganized, and became incor- porated as the American Association of the Red Cross. But it remained for Pi-esident Arthur to sign the Treaty, March 1, 1882. Some indispensable changes had been made to adapt it to the purposes of the United States. In the Old World the Red Cross had kept its first purpose, OUR ARMY NURSES. 53 — that of caring for the sick and wounded soldiers; but in the United States we are comparatively safe fi'om the danger of needing such services. So it was deemed necessary to have a constitution here that should enjoin work other than that pertaining to armies, and a distinctly American feature was incor- porated. ^'It is that our Society shall have for one of its objects aids to the suffering in times of great national calamities, such as floods and cyclones (visi- tations to which we are peculiarly liable), great fires, l)estilence, earthquake, or local famines," Misfortunes such as these come without warning, and relief must come quickly, so constant preparation is necessary, and perfect organization essential to prevent untold misery. Twelve national calamities have claimed the ser- vices of the Red Cross: the Michigan fires, the Ohio and Mississippi floods (1882), the Mississippi cyclone, again in 1884 the floods, the Vh'ginia epidemic, the Texas drouglit, the Charleston earth- quake, the Mt. Vernon (111.) cyclone, and the Johns- town disaster. Besides these it rendered assistance to Russia during the famine. No better occasion to illustrate the work of the Red Cross has ever occurred than at the Johnstown disaster. The President, with fifty aids, arrived on the first train from the East, and with them came everything necessary for people, who were left utterly destitute. Establishing themselves in tents, they be- gan to distribute food, and means were provided to insure the fact that no one would be overlooked. 54 OUR ARMY NURSES. The confidence in the Society was such that money and supphes continued to arrive, and buildings were erected to i-eceive them. The crushed, heart-broken women were organized into committees to assist in the work, and with their help the wants of over 20,000 persons were made known to the secretary in writing. The white wagons with the red s^anbol carried supplies for all of these. Barracks were erected, where large numbers were housed and fed; then two and four-roomed buildings were put up and furnished by the Society, and family life began once more. A comfortable hospital was next arranged, and in the autumn turned over to the city. Miss Barton re- mained five months in that devastated city, and among the most touching tributes ever paid to the Red Cross is a sketch in a Johnstown paper of that date: " The vital idea of the Ked Cross is not charity, it scoi'us the word, but friendliness, helpfulness. It is a privilege to do for those in trouble; they are neighbors in the good Samaritan sense: in a word, human brotherhood is their ci'eed, and nothing less than the true law of love as given by Jesus Christ their animating principle." In March, 1893, the American Society received a welcome gift. Dr. Joseph Gardner presented a tract of land, comprising more than one square mile, with buildings, fruit trees, and everything necessary to a beautiful farm. In accepting the gift Miss Barton says, " This property will be the one piece of neutral ground on the Western Hemisphere, protected by OUR ARMY NURSES. 55 international treaty again>st the tread of hostile feet. Forty nations are pledged to hold all material and stores of the Red Cross and all its followers nentral in war, and free to go and come as their dnties re- qnire. 1 will direct that monuments be ei-ected de- fining the boundaries of this domain, dedicated to eternal peace and hnmanity, npon which shall be in- scribed the insignia of the Treaty of Geneva ; w hich insignia all the nations of the earth are bound by solemn covenant to respect." In writing of Miss Barton, Laura Doolittle says: ''Her superb executive ability must have impressed all who met her. She influences and controls men and women not so much because of native gifts of leadership, as because of elevation of character, strong convictions, and high purposes. In person and manner she is gentle and womanly, her voice sweet and feminine; but that she is an unusual, peculiar woman, every one feels who meets her. That which is deeply boi-ne in upon the mind is that she is totally without fear ; that the ' custom ' which lies upon the rest of us with such a weight, lies not at all upon her; that for some deep reason she is a woman apart. She is a law to her staff, and is worshiped by them. "A life devoted wholly to the highest objects, a heart single to the service of humanity, time, health and fortune given without stint, and without hope of earthly reward, — history cannot fail to place her high on the roll of those who love God supremely, and her neighbor as themselves. 56 OUR ARMY NURSES. *' In a little casket in Miss Bai-ton's room lie some few jewels, badges of orders, gifts from ro^al i)er- sons, societies, beneficiaries, visible testimonials of love, gratitnde, and appreciation; conrt jewels from the Grand Duchess of Baden; a medal and jewels from the Empress of Germany; a decoration from the Qneen of Servia ; the Iron Cross of Merit, given only for heroic deeds of kindness, from old Kaiser Wilhelm, and some other deeoi-ations. A beautiful brooch aud pendant of diamonds testify to the abound- ing gratitude and love of the people of Johns- town." The American Society has its headquarters in Washington, in the mansion once nsed as the head- quarters of General Grant. The walls are decoi-ated by flags of many nations, the banner of Switzerland, with its Avhite cross on a crimson field, occupying the place of honor. Miss Barton meets all the expenses of the establishment from her private fortune. Over this Iniilding floats the banner of the Red Cross, telling to all the world that the United States is leagued with thirty-nine other nations pledged to promote the human brotherhood. We append an address delivered by Clara Barton before the International Council of Women, held in Washington, :March 25 to April 1, 1888. Thh Red Cross. The organization of the Red Cross is the result of an international treaty known among nations as the OUR ARMY NURSES. 57 ''Treaty of Geneva," and has for its object the amel- ioration of the conditions of that chiss of persons who, in accordance with the cnstoms of mankind from the earHest liistoi-y to tlie present, have been called to maintain the bonndaries of nations, and even national existence itself, by hmnan warfare. Whether w^dl or ill, needful or needless, that na- tions and lx)nndaries be so preserved, is not a qnes- tion for me here to consider. That they have been, and mainly are so preserved, that no better method is yet consnnnnated, and that, in the progress of hu- manity, the existing countries of the civilized world have seen fit to enter into an international treaty for the betterment of tlie conditions of those 8ul)jects or citi- zens who, by their laws, are called to the performance oi" this duty, are facts w hich I am here to state. This international ti-eaty of 1864 commences wdth the neu- tralizing of all parties in their efforts at relief. It l)rings to the aid of the medical and hospital depart- ments of armies the direct, organized, and protected help of the people. It goes through the entire cate- gory of military medical regime, as practiced up to its date; makes war upon and plucks out its old-time barliarities, its needless restrictions and cruelties, and finally, in effect, ends by teaching Avar to make war upon itself. By its international code, all military hospitals under its flag become neutral, and can be neither at- tacked nor captured. All sick and wounded within them remain unmolested. Surgeons, nurses, chap- lains, attendants, and all non-combatants at a field, 58 OUR ARMY NURSES. wearing the accredited insignia of the Red Cross, are protected from capture. Badly wounded prisoners lying* upon a captured fiekl, are dehvered to their own army if desired. All supplies designed for the use of the sick or wounded of either army, and bear- ing the sign of the Red Cross, are protected, and held sacred to their use. All convoys of wounded or prisoners in exchange are safely protected in transit, and if attacked from ambush or otherwise harmed, an international treaty is broken. All persons resid- ing in the vicinity of a battle about to take place shall be notified by the generals commanding both armies, and full protection, with a guard, assui-ed each house, which shall open its doors to the care of the wounded fi-om either army; thus each house be- comes a furnished field liospital,and its inmates nurses. Each nation, upon its accession to the Treaty, establishes a national society, or committee, through which it will act internationally in its various rela- tions. This body corporate adopts a constitution, in the formation of which it seeks the best methods for serving humanity in general, together with the interests of its own people, in the direction of its legitimate efforts. With the exception of our own, no national consti- tution has covered more than the direct ground of the treaty ; viz., the prevention and relief of suffering by war.* The formers of the JS^ational Constitution ♦Since the reading of this address each nation which has united with the treaty, including Japan, has requested to be admitted with the American Amendment. or A' ARMY NURSES. 59 of the Red Ci'oss of America foresaw that the great woes of its people would not be confined to human warfare; that the elements raging, unchained, would wage us wars and face us in battles; that as our vast tei'ritory became populated, and people, in the place of prairies and forests, should lie in their track, these natural agents might prove scarcely less de- structive and more relentless than human enemies; that fire, flood, famine, pestilence, drouth, earthquake, and tornado woidd call for the ])r()mj)t help of the people no less than war, and while organizing for the latter they also included the former. The ratifying congress at Berne accepted us with that digression from the original purport of the treaty, and what we term the ""civil branch " of the Red Cross is known abroad as the ^'American Amendment." With these exjjlanations, it remains only to name some of the things accomplished and the changes which have taken place in consequence of this treaty during its life of a short quarter of a century. Previous to the war of the Crimea civil help for military necessities was unknown. Florence IN^ight- ingale trod a pathless field. In the wars which fol- lowed, till 1866, even this example was not heeded, and the wars of Xa})oleon III. in JSTorthern Italy wei-e types of military cruelt}^ medical insufficiency, and needless suffering which shocked the woi-ld. Out of the smouldering ashes of these memories rose the clear, steady flame of the Red Cross ; so bright and beautiful that it drew the gaze of all mankind; so broad that it reached the farthest bound of the hori- 60 OUR ARMY NURSES. zoii; so peaceful, wise, harmless and fraternal that all nations and sects, the Christian and the Jew, the Protestant and the Catholic, the soldier and the phi- lanthropist, the war-maker and the peace-maker, could meet in its softened rays, and, hy its calm, holy light, reveal to each other their difficulties, compare their views, study methods of humanity, and, from time to time, learn from and teach to each other things better than they had known. Our own terril)le war which freed 4,000,000 slaves and gave to lis the ^^ Battle Hymn of the Republic," had no ray of this fraternal light. We "read the righteous sentence by dim and flaring lamps," and in darkness and inhumanity, soi'i'ow and doul^t, " our souls went marching on." The great Commissions rose, and performed a work of relief hitherto unknown, but from lack of military recognition their best efforts com})aratively failed; and from lack of permanent organization their fu- ture possibilities were lost to the world. With the Franco-German war of '70-71 com- menced the opportunities for the practical application of the princi^^les of the treaty. Both nations were in the compact. There was perfect accord between the military and the Ked Cross Relief. There Avas neither medical nor hospital work save through and under the treaty of Geneva. The Red Cross bras- sard flashed on the arm of every agent of relief, from the medical director at the headquarters of the king to the little boy carrying water to his wounded lieu- tenant; fi-om the noble Empress Augusta and her OUR ARMY NURSES. 61 court, and poor Eugenia, while she had one, to the patient, tired nuivse in the lowliest hospital or tent hy the wayside. ^o record of needless inhumanity or cruelty to wounded or sick, stains the annals of that wai'. I walked its hospitals day and night. I served in its camps, and I marched with its men, and I know whereof I speak. The German, the Frenchman, the Italian, the Arab, the Turko, and the Zouave were gathered tenderly alike, and lay side by side in the Red Cross palace hospitals of Germany. The I'oyal women, who to-day mourn their own dead, mourned then the dead of friend and foe. Since that day no war between nations within the treaty has taken place in which the Red Cross did not stand at its ]30st, at the field, and the generous gifts of neutral nations have filled its hands. The treaty has brought the war-making powers to know each other. Four times it has called the heads of thirty to forty nations to meet through appointed delegates, and confer upon national neutrality and relief in war. It has created and established one common sign for all military medical relief the world over, and made all under that sign safe and sacred. It has established one military hospital flag for all nations. It has given to the people the recognized right to reach and succor their wounded at the field. It has rendered impossi1)le any insiifficieny of sup- plies, either medical or nutritive, for wounded or pris- oners which human sympathy and power can reach. It has given the best inventions known to science for 62 OUR ARMY NURSES. the proper handling" of mutilated person.s, whether soldiers or civilians. The most approved i:)ortable hospitals in the world are of the Red Cross. It has frowned upon all old-time modes of cruelty in de- structive warfare; poisoned and explosive bullets are no longer popular. Antiseptic dressings and electric light at battlefields ai"e established facts, and the am- bulance and stretcher-bearei's move in the rear ranks of every army. These isolated facts are only the mountain peaks which I point out to you. The great Ali)ine range of humanity and activity below cannot be shown in fifteen minutes. 80 much for human warfare and the legitimate dis- pensation of the treaty. Touching our ""American Amendment," the wars of the elements have not left us quite at leisure. The public in general, to a large extent, is coming to the use of the Red Cross as a medium of conveyance and distribution for its contributions. The ^National Association, with its headquarters at Washington, has a field-agent, wdio visits, in person, every scene where aid is rendered. Commencing Avith the "forest fires " of Michigan, in 1881, there has fallen to its hands a share of the relief-work in the ovei'flow of the Mississippi River, in 1882; of the Ohio, in 1883; of the Mississii)pi cyclone the same year; the over- How of both the Ohio and Mississippi, in 1881; the representation of the United States Government at the International Conference of Geneva, Switzerland, in 1884; the exhibition of "woman's work " in the Red Cross, both foreign and American, at the Expo- OL'R ARMY NURSES. 63 sition at ;N"ew Orleans, in 1885 ; the drouth in Texas, in 1886; the Charleston earthquake, in 1886; the representation of the United States Cxovernment again at the court of their Koyal Highness the Grand Duke and Duchess of Baden, at Carlsruhe, Germany, in 1887 ; and the relief of the sufferers from the Mt. Yernon cyclone, in 1888.* In the overflow of the rivers in 1884 the Govern- ment appropriated |150,000 for distribution through the War Department, and magnificently and faith- fully was that distribution made ; an honor to any nation. The Red Cross, with no appropriation and no treasury, received from the public, and personally distributed in the space of four months, money and material at the moderately estimated value of $175,- 000; an honor to any people. But, s'ays one, "What has this war movement, this Red Cross treaty, to do with real progress, and the bringing about of that great universal peace toward which our eyes and hearts and hopes are turned, and for which we have so long organized, labored, and prayed V " Wars are largely the result of unbridled passions. That universal treaty binding every war-making power to wholesome restraints, pledging it to hu- manity, and holding it responsible to the entire world, *The last five years have added to the relief and labors of the above list. The yellow fever epidemic of Florida, in 1888; the Johnstown disaster, in 1889; the Russian famine, in 1891-"92; the Fifth Interna- tional Conference at Rome, 1892; and the hurricane and tidal wave of the South Carolina sea- island coast of 1893-'94. 64 OUR ARMY NURSES. is the bit in the nionth, the eur]) on the neck, of the war horse; and while it holds out the measure of oats in the one hand, it carries the bridle in the other. It constitutes a peace society which cannot be sneered at in counsel, nor ignored in war. It is one of the thresholds to the temple of Peace, and even ourselves may be farther from the entrance than we are wont to fondly dream. Wars are organized mobs, they tell us. We are not without that seed in our own fair land to-day. Women have taken their share in the work. Em- presses and queens — princesses of peace and hu- manity — as well as emperors and kings, lead its societies and its relief work in Avar; and Avhile each queenly wife stands Avith her Ked Cross hand on the epauletted shoulder of her w^ar-meditating husband^ he Avill consider well before he declares. This has been and Avill be again the case; and in the great millennial day, when Peace has conquered war, and its standards float out from the shining battlements, the Ked Cross and its devoted workers Avill be there. 66 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. FOWLE. **lenglan^ bae ber one, Hmcrica ber tbou9an^0/* QF all the women who devoted themselves to the soldiers in our late Kebellion, perhaps none had a more vai'ied experience than Elida B. Rumsey, a g'irl so 3'oung that Miss Dix would not receive her as a nurse; a fact for which hundreds had reason to be gi-ateful. Undaunted by seeming difficulties, she persisted in " doing the next thing," and so fulfilled her great desire to do something for the Union soldiers. Yet it was not to these alone that her kindly ministrations extended; for wherever she saw a soldier in need her ready sympathies were enlisted, little cai'ing if the heartbeats stirred a coat of blue or gray. Miss Rumsey vv-as born in I^ew York City, June 6, 184:2. Upon the removal of her parents to Washing- ton, where the ^'Secesh" element was strong in '61, her patriotic spirit was so enthused that she deter- mined to help in some way; and relying upon her own resources, she entered upon a career that gave her an almost national reputation, and endeared her to thousands of hearts. She was engaged to John A. Fowle, of Jamaica Plain, Mass., who was employed in the Xavy Depart- ment, at Washington, but devoted all his spare time 08 OUR ARMY NURSES. to philanthropic enterprises, — and their work was supplementary from the first. In November, 'Gl, she began to visit the hospitals and sing to the soldiers, who found relief and courage in the tones of her strongly sympathetic voice, and watched eagerly for the young, vivacious face that almost daily appeared in the wards, always bringing sunshine and leaving renewed hope. It was the knowledge of how little the boys had to look forward to from day to day, while all the time under such depressing influences, that first inspired the thought of supplying them with pictures and books. Then, too, much stern condemnation was passed upon the convalescents for playing cards and telling idle stories, and Miss Rumsey believed a better way would be to displace evil by good. The " Soldiers' Rest " was a name very inappro- priately given to a place near the Baltimore & Ohio depots where prisoners were exchanged, or some- times stayed over night when they had no Avhere else to go. Miss Rumsey had a strong desire to see what kind of men had been in Libby Prison, and when the first lot had been exchanged she went down to see them off as they were going home on a furlough. They looked utterly disheartened and demoralized by disaster and suffering; and their enthusiasm was all gone. Some one recognized the young lady, and called for a song. To gain attention and give her a moment's preparation, Mr. Fowle stepped to her «ide and said, ^' Boys, how would you like a song?" " Oh, very well, I guess," came OUR ARMY NURSES. 69 ^ the reply in spiritless tones. She sang the "Red, AYhite, and Blue/' Soon they crowded ai'onnd her with moi-e interest than they had yet shown since leaving prison; Init comparatively few could see her. At the close of the song they called for anothoi-, and a pile of knapsacks was thrown on the ground. Standing on this rude rostrum she sang " The Star- Spangled Banner/' Her natural enthusiasm was intensified by the surroundings, and the desire to inspire the boys with the courage they had all but lost. Her voice was full of power, and her whole attitude instinct with patriotism, as she brought her foot down on the imaginary rebel flags (words writ- ten by Mr. Fowle on the first captured "rebel flags," then on exhibition in the rotunda in the Capitol), when, raising her eyes, she met those of a Southern officer in a pen just beyond, waiting to be transferred. It was but a momentary interchange of unspoken thought, but a moment surcharged with deep, sym- pathetic feeling on the part of each ; and the impres- sion could not be lightly forgotten. In less time than it takes to tell it, that strange experience was over. Our boys, now restored to their former ear- nestness, rent the air with cheer after cheer. I^'rom this time her voice, hitherto used only for the enjoy- ment of her friends, was devoted to her country. One of the first things definitely accompHshed was the establishment of a Sunday evening prayer meet- ing in Columbia College Hospital, in an upper room in Auntie Pomroy's ward. That room was crowded night after night, and overflow meetings were held 70 OUR ARMY NURSES. in a grove near b}^ The interest steadily- increased, the boys often doing donble duty in order to be present, and they were continued as long as it was safe; but the enthusiasm of the soldiers could not be repressed when Miss Rumsey's sweet voice stiri-ed their souls and rekindled the noble, self-sacrificinir sjoirit that had brought them to such a place, and cheers shook the A^ery walls. The soldiers planned what they wanted her to sing from week to week, and she threw into the songs all her great desire to bring the boys l:iack to their better selves, and help them to feel that they were not forgotten nor alone. All this time her plans had been assuming outward form. Xow, having received a grant of land from Government, a building Avas erected, and the ; ^'Soldiers' Free Library" founded; Mrs. Walter \ Baker giving the hrt^t hundred dollars and the greater \ part of the remainder was earned by Miss Rumsey and Mr. Fowle giving concerts, at two of which tliey had 1 the Marine Band, by order of the President. As far ' as known, this was the first library ever founded by a woman, and that by a mere girl scarcely eighteen years old. Perhaps no better idea of the institution can be given than by an article from one of the news- papers soon after the new building was occupied. ''Fast Day I took a walk to the Soldiers' Free Li- brary and Reading Room; and, Messrs. Editors, if I ever felt proud of being an old Massachusetts man, my pride had no fall to-day. Six months ago Miss Elida Rumsey, Avhose sweet voice has so often been heard in the Choir of Representatives ' Hall, con- OUR ARMY NURSES. 71 ceived the idea of establishing a free hbrary for the soldiers. For this purpose she gave several concerts, the avails from which were devoted to the erection of a plain one-story building 65 x 24 feet, at a cost of about one thousand dollars. The use of the land, on Judiciary Square, was donated by Congi-ess. " The reading-room is modestly fitted up with seats which will accommodate two hundred and fifty per- sons. It has a melodeon, on which soldiers practice at will, though every Wednesday evening regular in- struction is given in music and singing by Mr. and Mrs. Fowle, and religious services are conducted by the chaplain twice each Sunday. I may as well state here that Miss Rumsey was married a short time since to Mr. John A. Fowlo, of the ^avy Department, formerly from Jamaica Plain, Mass. He is thoroughly devoted, heart and soul, to the sufferers of the war. "About fifty different papers are sent regularly by publishers, free of charge. Boxes of books are daily arriving for the libraiy, which already exceeds three thousand volumes. One box from Jamaica Plain came while I was there, — a donation from a Sunday Hcliool, comprising many of the new works of the day. The reading-room is open all day, and the library four hours each day. Secretary Stanton has detailed a convalescent soldier v/ho is alwa^^s on duty to keep the room in order, deliver books, etc. " One room is devoted to storage of medicine, deli- cacies, stationery, socks, shirts, etc., and is under the charge of Mrs. Fowle. Here the soldiers can pro- cure Testaments (donated by the Massachusetts Bible 72 OUR AR3rV lYURSES. Society), hymn books, pamphlets, newspapers, letter paper, envelopes, etc., all free of charge. "One object interested me deeply, — a box from Dorchester containing one thousand small cotton bags, each filled with tea or gronnd coffee, with a few lumps of sugar, ready for immediate use. Every convalescent who leaves for camp has a few of those packages placed in his knapsack by Mrs. Fowle." Having spoken of Miss Rumsej's marriage, we add another sketch, also taken from a paper at that time. "Mr. and Mrs. Fowle first met in the reception room at the House of Representatives. To-day, March 1, 1863, after the conclusion of Dr. Stock- ton's remarks, a scene never before witnessed in the halls of Congress took place, in the form of a mar- riage ceremony ; the parties being Mr. John A. Fowle and Miss Elida B. Kumsey. Mr. Fowle is from Boston, Mass., but at present a clerk in the !N^avy Department. He is known as connected with move- ments for the aid of soldiers in the hospitals, and for the establishment of a free library for the soldiers. Miss Rumsey is from ]^ew York, her father at present residing in this city. She also has given much attention to the patients in military hospitals. During the present Congress she and Mr. Fowle have in part composed the Choir of the House. For this cause it is said that certain Senators and Repre- sentatives desired that the marriage should take place in the Representatives' Hall. "A good deal of publicity had been given the OrJ^ ARMY NURSES. 73 affair, and tlie floor and galleries were packed. About four thousand peo})le were present. . . . ^' The marriage ceremony was performed according \ to the rites of the Episcopal Church, by Kev. Mr. Quint, pastor of the church which Mr. Fowle at- / tended in Jamaica Plain, and now chaplain of the / Second Massachusetts Regiment. / "The bride was dressed in a plain drab poplin, with linen collar and cuffs, and wore a bonnet of the same (color, ornamented with red, white, and blue flowers. A bow of red, white, and blue ribbon was fastened upon her breast. "After the ceremony had been completed, the bene- / diction pi-onounced, and the couple were receiving congratulations, a soldier in the gallery shouted, ^ Won't the bride sing the " Star Spangled Ban- ner?'" and she did, then and there, in her bridal dress, with never more of fervor in her beautiful voice." y President Lincoln had intended to be present, but at the last moment he was detained ; but with "Auntie Pomroy," in his carriage, he sent a magnificent bas- ket of flowers. The city gardener, Mr. ^N^okes, also sent a basket; and these, with the following note, "Accept as a slight testimonial this check of one hundred dollars from the doorkeeper and assistant, Mrs. Ira Goodnoe," were all the presents or payment she ever received for her services. On their return from their bridal trip the soldiers of Columbia Hos- pital requested the j)rivilege of reversing the order, and giving a concert themselves to the newly married 74 OUR ARMY NURSES. couple. When the company were assembled, six pieces of plate were presented to the bride and gTOom; a present from the officei-y, nurses, and soldiers. But knowing that she would never accept a sacrifice from those for whom she was laboring, no soldier was allowed to give more than twenty-five cents. Also a large Bible from the soldiers of Judiciary Hospital. Mrs. Fowle has an almost inexhaustible supply of racy anecdotes and pathetic stories that she knows so well how and when to tell. She has, also, a collec- tion of army relics, among them one of the first rebel flags captured. On this flag she has stood many times while singing "The Star Spangled Banner." Perfectly fearless in the face of thoughtless criticism, she went on her errands of mercy for three years, doing anything tliat needed to be done. Mr. Fowle had established the making of crutches and canes for the soldiers, free of charge, and these were stored in one part of the library. Mrs. Fowle (then Miss Rumsey) would frequently go to the l^avy Yard after them with her ambulance, and ride back perched on the top of the load. Knowing that there would be urgent need, and fearful suffering, she determined to go to the second battle of Bull Run ; so taking a load of supplies and some four hundred loaves of bread, she and Mr. Fowle started in the ambulance. Having no Gov- ernment pass it was a hazardous undertaking, and she experienced some difliculty in getting through OUR ARMY NURSES. 75 the lines. The last guard peremptorily refused to let her go any farther; when, springing from the ambu- lance, she fell on her knees before him and begged her way through. Thus Avhile Miss Dix and her faithful nurses were detained three miles away, she was inside the lines and ready for action. AYhen almost on the battlefield they came to a little negro cabin, and resolved to nse it for a hospital. It was a tiny affair, but on o])ening the door they found that it Av^as already occupied. A terrified crowd of negroes had sought shelter there. Almost wild with fear, they could scarcely obey the order " Be oif," but were soon on their way to Washington. Their prej)arations had not been made any too quickly, for now the wounded men began to arrive. The little cabin would hold about fifty, and as Mr. Fowle did what he could for one, he was removed, and an- other took his place. When the stores had all been distributed, Mrs. Fowle determined to go in and help care for the wounded. Just as she stepped inside she glanced down. The fioor was completely hid- den with blood. She covered her face Avith her hands and turned away, overpowered for a moment by the thought of Avalking through that Avarm human blood. Then came a sti'ong reaction; then no fear of shrinking from duty : she firmly entered, and helped to bind up those fearful Avounds until the close of that famous Sunday night Avhen the army retreated. Only two men died during the day that they cared for, — one whose name and regiment were unknown, the other from Ncav York. But though death was 76 OUR ARMY NURSES. not common, there were other scenes as fearful. Once as she was washing the wounds in a pail of water thick with blood, some soldiers begged for it to drink : the Avater they used had to be carried over two miles. Mrs. Fowle carries a scar on her face, — a relic of war times, — and its story defines her whole attitude during the RebelHon: a large carbuncle, the re- sult of blood-poisoning, while washing wounds on the battlefield. At last the doctors said it must be lanced. Having a horror of a knife, and with nerves already quivering from the sights around her, she did not feel equal to the ordeal. Still knowing it must be done, she said, "Let me go over to the Judiciary Hospital and see the boys who have had their legs and arms amputated, and I can bear it." A chair was placed in one end of the ward, and calmly seating herself after looking for a moment at the long rows of cots, she told the surgeon to go on. These scenes have been selected at random from among the every-day experiences of her three years' service. In closing, I will again quote from a news- paper of that period. " At the Patent Office Hospital last May a soldier lay on his dying bed; he was a mere boy, only seven- teen years of age, from the State of ^ew York. Typhoid fever had brought him low, and then con- sumption marked him for its victim, and day by day he wasted, growing weaker and weaker, until at last he could only whisper. The dear little fellow was OUR ARMY NURSES. -J-! conscious he was about to die, and was prepared to go. A young lady of this city, who spends all her time in labors of love for the sick and wounded soldiers, took a special interest in his case, and at the twilight hour she would often visit him, and at his request her sweet voice would be heard at his bedside, singing to him of " Jesus " or " Heaven." " One evening just as the sun had set she foinid him failing rapidly ; he wanted to hear a hymn, and whis- pered, ^Sing, " JS'earer Home."' It was a favorite, beginning thus, — ' One sweetly solemn thought Comes to me o'er and o'er.' and Tommy liked to hear it set to the sweet tune of ^Dennis.' Under such touching circumstances it was difficult to sing; the tears must flow, and the utterance be choked; but the lady tried, and there surrounded by a little band of his soldier friends, and faithful nurse. Miss Lawrence, of Albany, IS^. Y., she sang the first, second, and third verses, — then stopped, for a great change was taking place in Tommy; he was dying; he was Agoing home,' — was leaving ^his cross of heavy grief, to wear a starry crown.' 'Twas a scene that all present will never forget. "Some weeks later the hospital was closed, and opened again in September. A few Sabbaths ago the same lady, standing where the soldier died, sang, by request, a little ballad composed by Mr. Fowle in memory of Tommy Reese. A large audience heard it, and not a dry eye could be seen." 78 OUR ARMY NURSES. THE DYING SOLDIER BOY. Tune, Annie Laurie. Bj John A. Fowle. Sing me a song before I go, Said the dear and dying boy : " Nearer Home " is the one I love ; Oh, sing of heavenly joy ! Sing, for I'm going home. Over the crystal sea ; I'm going to join the angel throngs, And spend eternity. With faint and trembling voice we sang Of laying my burden down ; We sang tlie sweet, sweet words, Wearing my starry crown. And then the soldier smiled, As his spirit soared above : He left his cross of heavy grief, To spend a life of love. Brave boy, we mourn your fate. Your life was noblv given ; Far from home, and far from friends, Y"ou gave up earth for heaven. No stone may mark the spot Where our soldier boy is laid. But in our hearts he has a place, — A spot in memory made. Our country mourns for heroes brave. Who died to save our land ; Our hearts, — how oft they bleed For many a noble band. But at their hallowed graves We all shall Pilgrims be ; We'll shed a tear for those who've died For Right and Liberty. Mi'w. Fowle now resides at 337 Boston Street, Dorchester, Mass. 80 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY PRINGLE. J WAS born in Columhus, Ohio, Jan. 11, 1833. My maiden name was Mary Breckel. When the war broke ont I was Hving in Keoknk, Iowa, and while at church one Sunday, vohm- teers were called for to go into the hosjjital at Quincy, 111., and the next day I started alone. Upon my arri- val I was introduced to Miss Orland, and went with her to Hospital No. 1, as her assistant, by appointment of Dr. Stanton. After al)ont a month I was trans- ferred to ^o. 2, as superintendent. I had been there about a year when I heard that my brother was sick in Columbus. I went to see him, and while there a hospital was organized on Broad Street, and I went as superintendent. I l)ecaine sick from overwork, and had to leave the service July, 1863. It would give me much pleasure to hear from any of the 'Mjoys in blue," who knew me while in oui country's service. Yours in F., C. and L., Mary Pringle. Chillicothe, Livingston Co , Mo. 82 OUR ARMY NURSES. «ev5.*-a,:^ ^it -Jm s DR. NANCY M. HILL. EAIS'CY M. HILL, daughter of William and Harriet (Swan) Hill, was born in West Cam- bridge (now Arlington and Belmont), Mass. Her forefathers were in the battles of Lex- ington, West Cambridge, and Bunker Hill. She was educated in the public schools at West Cambridge, and at Mount Holyoke Seminary, South Hadley, Mass. There was a great call for educated w omen to go as nurses, during the War of the Rebellion, in the hospi- tals at Washington. Ladies from Cambridge, Boston, and other places offered their services at Armory Square Hosi)ital, under Dr. Bliss, who was surgeon in charge. These ladies were specially appointed by Surgeon-General Barnes. There was a vacancy in Ward F in this hospital, and Miss Hill was summoned. She went in April, 1863, and remained until August, 1865, after the close of the war. The pay of the volunteer nurses was to go into a hospital fund, to buy extras for the soldiers, which Government did not provide. Armory Square Hospital was a barrack hospital of eleven buildings, besides tents for the convalescents, capable of holding a thousand men. Each lady had charge of a ward under a doctor. There were fifty- two beds in each w^ard, but often extra cots were 84 OUR ARMY NURSES. added. This hospital was nearest the boat-landing and the railroad depot, and received the worst cases. They were often brought all the way from the boat on stretchers, as they could not stand the jar of the ambulances. AVhen the battles of the Wilderness were going ou, all hospital supplies and sanitary stores had been sent to the front, and there w^ere none in Washington. Miss Hill wrote to her mother about it, and she had the letter read next morning in the four churches in Arlington. Immediately the congregations were dis- missed, and all went home, to returu to the Town Hall bringing table-cloths, and linen, and cotton sheets, — the best they had. The ladies and gentlemen worked all day long makiug and rolling bandages and pick- iug lint. Before niue o'clock that night two large dry-goods boxes, the size of an upright piano, were on their way to Washington by Adams Express, Avho took them fi-ee of charge. The Soldiers' Aid Societies of both Arlington and Belmont were very generous in their contributions. As fast as they sent boxes away, they began to fill others to send, — and so it was with all the volunteer nurses; friends at the I^orth sent bountiful supplies of whatever w^as needed. After General Grant took command of the Army of the Potomac, the hospitals were crowded with severely wounded men. He followed up the foe so fast it was blow upon blow. Every day the wounded came, and every day men who could be moved with safety, were sent to Baltimore or Philadelphia, to OUR ARMY NURSES. 85 make room for others. It was a common thing to count forty amputation cases at a time, when looking- up and down the ward that summer, and so it con- tinued until the end of the war. After the hospital closed, Dr. Bliss advised Miss Hill to study medicine. Acting on this suggestion she began reading under Dr. Marie Zakryewska, the Alma Mater of all lady physicians of Boston and vicinity. Afterwards she became a medical student at the New England Hos- pital for Women and Children, at Roxbury, Mass. She was graduated at the medical department of the Michigan University, at Ann Arbor, in the year 1874. She then came to Dubuque, Iowa, and opened an office, and has been in active practice of medicine ever since. Her address is Dr. Nancy Hill, Dubuque, Iowa. 86 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY A. LOOMIS. 5Y two and a half years of service during the war I ^hall not soon forget. The privations and snfferings of onr brave and noble boys will always linger in my memory. At the time the war broke ont my home was in Coldwater, Mich. I entered the service with my husband sometime in May, 1861, as a volunteer nurse, and was not under authority of any one e:xcept the surgeon. Later I was appointed matron of Hospital 'No. 13, Kashville, Tenn., and remained there from September, 1862, until January, 1863. This hospital was in chai-ge of H. J. Herrick, M.D., of the 17th Kegiment Ohio Volunteers. I then went to No. 20, Nashville, and stayed until May, as matron under J. R. Goodwin, M.D., surgeon in charge. I was also in a hospital at Murfreesboro, Tenn., and at Huntsville, Ala. In all, I was in hospitals about a year; the remainder of the time I was in camp or on the march with my husband, Capt. George W. Van Pelt, and I always found plenty of work to do there. My husband fell in the battle of Chickamauga, in September, 1863, and in November I left the service. Mary A. Loomis. Burr Oak, St. Joseph Co., Micu. 88 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. EMMA L. SIMONDS. mS. EMMA L. SIM0:N'DS was appointed as a nurse by Mrs. Iloge and Mrs. Liverniore, under the authority of Miss D. L. Dix, on ^^^^^ August 26, 1863, and was assigned to work in Memphis, Tenn., as chief nurse of Ward A in the Gayoso Hospital; Dr. F. Noel Burke, surgeon in charge. She went from De Kalb, 111., soon after our mar- riage, to Memphis, where I was on duty as an army surgeon. United States Army, in Jackson Plospital. At the close of the war she returned with me to my home at Iowa Falls. In 1873 we moved to Fay- etteville, Ark., where she resumed practice as a pro- fessional nurse; which work she continued untd January, 1892. She died in May, 1893. I think she was the most unselfish, most charitable in her opinions and in her demeanor toward others, the most forgiving in spirit, and the most truthful in all her expressions, of any woman I have ever known. Yours truly, J. F. SiMONDS. Washington, D. C 90 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARGARET HAYES. Q:N' the 17th day of February, 1863, I left my home in Mendota, 111., for Chicago. Arriving there we went to the Sanitary Commission rooms, and were cared for by Mrs. Livermore, who gave lis onr commissions, put us up a lunch, gave us each a pillow and a small comfortable, as there were no sleeping cars in those days, procured transportations, and started us that same evening for Memi^his, Tenn. Another lady went w^ith me, who was as anxious as I to do something for the "boys in blue." AYe an-ived safely, and I was immediately assigned to the Adams General Hospital, ^o. 2 (which had just been opened to receive the sick and wounded from Arkansas) , in A\ ard 2, Room B, where there were seventy-two men. I think the ward master was one of the kindest men I ever knew. Poor fellow ! He went through the war, and returned to his home with the regiment, but only to die soon after his arrival. There was a medicine man and a wound-dresser, and six nurses were detailed from among the convalescents. My especial duty Avas to cook the extra diet, see that the patients received it, Avait upon those who could not feed them- selves, look after the comfort of all, and, in fact, make myself generally useful. A part of the time I had two wards. The boys appreciated whatever I did for them very much, and presented me with a valuable 92 OUR ARMY NURSES. gold watch, which I still hold as one of iny choicest treasures. I remained at the Adams until January, 18(3.">, when I v.as transferred to the Gayoso, and was discharged from there at the close of the war. I often think of my "boys," and wonder where they all ai'e. The old ones are mustered out, the young- are now gra-y and old, and would not know me or I them if we should meet. I have even changed my name. I was Mrs. Maggie MeseroU then ; the}^ called me " Sister Mao-o-ie." My first ward surgeon was Dr. Taylor, of Cam- bridge, Mass. ; next. Dr. Cole, of St. Louis; then came Dr. Lard, and Di". Iveenon, who died while in charge, succeeded by Dr. Study. At the Gayoso were Dr. Burke and Dr. Stold, Dr„ Joe Lynch, and Ma j. B. J. D. Irvin. I could tell many incidents if I could see to wi-ite them, but I am so blind that I have not been al)le to read since 1882. ' Yours in F., C. and L., Margaret Hayes, South Los Angeles, Cal. 94 OUR ARMY NURSES. ELIZABETH B. NICHOLS. JN^ beginning to narrate the scenes of my army life I will state that I first entered the service at the request of my husband, who wished me to join him in Chicago, where his regiment had been sent on exchange, after having been taken prisoner at Harper's Ferry. My husband and many others were sick, so I started with as little delay as possible on the 17th of October, 1862, at about 2 o'clock p. m., and arrived in Chicago at 2 A. m. It was three miles to Camp Douglas, where our soldiers were quartered, and I rode that distance in the street cars. Alone in the darkness I found the gate, but it was closed. I rapped, and heard the "Halt! Who comes?" I gave the guard my name, told my business, and asked for admission, only to be told that he could not let me in. I must wait for the officer who w^ould change the guards. But when he came he told me to stop at some hotel until morning, and then return. I replied that I was a stranger, and did not know where to go at that time of night. It seemed so hard to send me away that they at length admitted me, although it was against the rules : telling me not to speak aloud, they conducted me to the hospital, inquired for Still- man ^N^ichols, and, leading me to his cot, asked him if I was his wife. Knowing how tired I must be, he soon asked them to find some place for me to rest. They led me to the baggage room, gave me a couple 95 96 OUR ARMY NURSES. of blankets and a pillow, and I was soon asleep in spite of my strange snrroundings. The call of the drnm awoke me the next moi-ning, and after break- fast I reported to the snrgeon in charge, and entered npon my work. As soon as my husband became convalescent he was detailed with two others to assist me; the work was also made easier by Chris- tian ladies who bronght baskets of provisions. It was good to see how eager the "boys" were to get a share of the contents of those baskets. At last we sent the sick to the City Hospital, to be cared for until they were able to join their regiments; then we broke camp and started for Washington, the journey requiring four days and three nights. Ke- fi'eshments were served at several places on tlie road. Once some ladies asked me why I was there, and when I told them that ni}^ husband and I were nurses, they praised my patriotism. We stayed in Bahimore about three hours, and while there our colonel received sealed orders for the rec>iment to 2:0 at once to Texas : but before we could embark the oi'der was countermanded, and we Avere ordered to Washington, whei-e we arrived at day- light, and marched to the " Soldiers' Kest." It being the Sabbath, services were conducted here by Chap- lain Brown. From there we marched to Fairfix Seminary, crossing the long l^i'idge. It was a beautiful place, a large brick building, with shaded lawn, where I saw the roses in bloom at Christmas time. Here we camped, and a large empty room was taken for OUR ARMY NURSES. 97 a hospital, and as we had oni* stores with iis we did very well. While there I had the pleasure of attending a darkey wedding. There were about one hundred freed slaves present. A colored minister officiated, but as he could not read, our officer of the guard stood behind him and read the service out of the Episcopal Prayer Book, and the minister pronounced them man and wife. Then the bride and groom led the way to another room, wliere a large table was spread with as nice a supper as one need to eat. After the supper came the wedding dance. Two fiddlers furnished the music; and such music as I had not been used to hearing, to say the least. The party broke up about morning, all pronouncing it a merry occasion. After our regiment had gone to Stockade Camp,, my husband and I had to stay nearly two weeks with nine sick men. The only facilities we had for cook- ing were a coffee-pot, one mess-pan, a spider, and a fireplace. But we got along some way, and the time came when I started in an ambulance to join the regi- ment. I found a great many sick, but we got them into a hospital tent as soon as we could, and soon felt more at home, though one died that evening, and through the night my husband watched by the body, while, wrapped in my blanket, I slept on a pile of straw. Soon there were many sick with typhoid fever and other maladies, and I have passed through scenes that I shall never foi'get. Often and often have I stood by a dying soldier to hear his last words. I 98 OUR ARMY NURSES. had a habit of gomg through the ward to say good- night and speak a cheerful word, for I often knew that some woukl die before another day. One morning as I was about to enter the hospital the doctor met me with the dreadful news that the small-pox had broken out, but through the providence of God I was spared. There were eighteen cases, and only one died. After a time we were ordered to Centreville, Va. ; the regiment went first. We sent our stores to the General Hospital, then boarded a freight car; the cook, three doctors, my husband and myself com- pleted the load of freight. We were in the last car, the one in front being loaded with hay. Sometime in the night, when we could not see where we were, we were left behind. I rested quite contentedly sitting on the car floor, and in the morning an engine was sent for us, so we reached our regiment at last. I remained there two months, then a\ ent home on leave of absence; meanwhile our regiment was ordered to Gettysburg, so I did not return. Then my hus- band was very sick, and was cared for eight months in Philadelphia. I worked my board while there, so as to be near him, but the " Sisters " were nursing him. As soon as he recovered sufficiently he was ordered to Washington, where he was detailed as cook in the Invalid Corps Camp, and he sent for me to help him. I stayed there one year and four months; then my husband was discharged, and we went home. Elizabeth B. Nichols. Clyde, New York 100 OUR ARMY NURSES. M ^ M. ALICE FRUSH. fHE^ the war broke out I was living in a little town called Grcencastle, about eleven miles from Chanibersburg-, Penn. My father was "=^^- a great Union man, and threw our house open as headquarters for the officers. The generals quartered there were Dana, Smith, and Fitshugh, and they had their staffs. We did all we could for the comfort of the soldiers, and when the call came for nurses, I was one to volunteer. I served three years ; first in the hospital at Hagerstown, Md., then at Greencastle. I left to become the wife of Sergt. M. L. Frush, of Company B, 6th Yirginia Cavalry. During my hospital service I was on the battle- fields of Antietam and Gettysburg, after the fight, helping the wounded and caring for the dying. Mau}^ of the injured men were carried to our little town of Greencastle, and we sisters did what we could for them, picking lint, knitting stockings, etc. I was then Mary Alice Smith, and but eighteen jenvs of age. I served under Gen. David Detrich, in Greencastle, but do not remember who was surgeon in charge at Hagerstown. When I was not engaged in the hos- pitals I was out with an aml)ulance, gathering provisions for the soldiers. My father had a large warehouse, and we fed them there. Upon my marriage, in December, 1864, I left the service, but was not discharged, so I have no papers. 102 OUR ARMY NURSES. One little incident in closing. When Lee's army passed through Greencastle, en route for Gettysburg, my sister Sadie and I waved the American flag in front of them, and were heartily cheered by the ""boys in gray." Yours in F., C. and L., M. Alice Feush. 222 Scott Street, Youngstown, Ohio. t *-^ , 0- W^ r ■ '\ J "^p »\r^ ■i ' M, AFTER THE BATTLE. 104 OUR ARMY NURSES. J MRS. PAMELIA REID. fHEX the war broke out my home was in Farmingtoii, Iowa. T began my nursing be- fore I left home to go to tlie liospital. It '-^-^ happened in this way: — One da}^ I heard that a wounded soldier was at the station, too sick to proceed any farther on his way home. I had him carried to my house, and nursed him until he was nmch improved in health, when his brother came to accompany him the remainder of the journey. My next experience was with my husband, who was wounded at the battle of Belmont, and I went to care for him until he needed me no longer. After the battle of Shiloh, I saw in a newspaper that the Estes House had been taken for a hospital and female nurses were wanted. It was ten o'clock A. M. Avhen I read the notice, and at four p. m. I was on my way, and the next morning commenced my duties under the direction of Mrs. Wittenmeyer. I served at the Estes House one year and a half, with the exception of a few weeks leave of absence to go to my husband, who was wounded again. At the end of that time a hospital was established at the Medical College, and I served there until my health failed. Yours truly, Mks. Pamelfa Reid. Georgetown, Mass. 105 106 OUR ARMY NURSES. JULIA S. TOMPKINS. ^Y war record is much shorter than it would have been had I been able to carry out the earnest desire of my heart. From the time ^ ^-^ the first call for volunteer nurses was issued, my heart burned with patriotic longings to do some- thing for our country and the dear old flag; and why not? My ancestors on both sides were descendants of the Puritan and Revolutionary stock. My husband was at the front, and I kept writing for his consent to go where I could help the sick and wounded ; but as we had a little boy, and no one with whom to leave him, he would not hear to any such proposition until he was left in a hospital with most of his regiment, as they were returning to the front from Camp Douglas, where they had been taken prisoners. After he became convalescent I visited him at Benton Barracks, where he had been assigned to take charge of the kitchens and procure supplies. Again my very soul was stirred with longing to do something for the patient sufferers, and I begged to stay. When the soldiers learned of my desire, they added their entreaties to mine, as they had become very much attached to our little boy, who took the place of those "left behind," and enlivened many lonely hours. My husband at last consented, and I received my appointment. I went on duty in Ward A, Amphitheatre Building, at Benton Barracks, where I served until prostrated by a nervous fever, 107 108 OUR ARMY NURSES. caused by my sympathy for the " brave boys who wore the bhTe," who were never heard to utter a com- phiint, no matter how badly they Avere Avounded or how much they were suffering, l^ut were ever i-eady to expi'ess gratitude for all we did for them. On my recovery I was placed in charge of the linen room, and served in that department until I left the service. Dr. Ira Russell was in charge of the hospitals when I went there, but was relieved by Dr. John H. Grove, August 10, 18(33. He remained until Fel)ruary 12, 1861, when Dr. Russell returned. He was still there when I left the work. AVhen my husband was discharged fi'om active field service, on account of disabilities, there was no one with whom to leave my boy, and I had to request that my connection with the hospital be severed, as I could not look after my child and do my duty as a nurse. My request was rehictantly granted, and I returned to my home. One little incident connected with my work there gave me much pleasure. Miss Emily E. Parsons was ^^ Superior ]^urse " at our hospital. My sister's son had been wounded at Yicksburg, and was very low. She had him placcid in my section of the ward, where he would be under my immediate care. I could not l)nt feel complimented, as no nurse was allowed to be on duty in a ward where she had relatives, or even former friends, lest favoritism should be shown. She never had reason to feel that her confidence was misplaced. Julia S. Tompkins. 418 2d Avenuk, Clinton, Iowa. 110 OUR ARMY NURSES. BELLE CODDINGTON. 1^ EFORE taking up my pen to write this sketch l(\ I cHmbed to the top of the Hbrary, and taking ^^ down a hirge, old Latin book, uniquely bound in hog-skin, and printed three and a half cen- turies ago, I turned its musty, though well-preserved pages, and found in a large official envelope another old and highly valued relic, — the commission of an army nurse. It reads as follows : — Office of Western Sanitary Commission, St. Louis, March 19, 1864. Mrs. A. Tannehill, having furnished satisfactory evidence of her qualifications for the position of " nurse" in the employment of the Medical Department, U. S. A., is approved. James E. Yeatman, Agent for Miss D. L. Dix. Assigned to duty at Benton Barracks, General Hospital, St. Louis, March 19, 1864, upon application of Ira Russell, surgeon in charge. James E. Yeatman, Agent for Miss D. L. Dix. Approved: Dr. Miles, Surgeoi), U. S. A., Medical Director. In the same envelope was another commission dated at Philadelphia, June 1, 1865, and signed by Geo. H. Stuart, chairman of the United States Chris- tian Commission. As I glanced over these old l^apers, ni}' thoughts went back of the dates upon them to the strange events that influenced my life, 111 112 OCR ARMY NURSES. resulting in my becoming an army nnrse, and a dele- oate of the United States Christian Commission. I thonght of my wedding day, when I stood at the altar and took upon myself the sweet and solemn marriage vows; of the five short months of un- alloyed happiness that followed; then the enlisting of my young husband in the service of his country, — how hard I tried to be brave as I clung to him in parting; then of the eagerly-looked-for letters, — and at last the one that never came, but in its stead a message in a strange hand telling me of my hus- band's death, and burial near Yicksburg, where his regiment had been sent to reinforce General Gi-ant. To a true woman there is no sweeter word than wife, no sadder one than AvidoAV. In less than a year I had realized in my experience the meaning of both. The deep feeling of the heart had been touched by the hand of Love, the tenderest feeling by the hand of Death; and.it is the experience of sorrow that prepares us to minister to others. After my husband's death there came an intense desire to do something for the sick and wounded soldiers in the hospitals. But not knowing how to proceed to get a position as nurse, I resumed my former occupation of school-teaching. What had once been a dehght, now seemed irksome and dis- tasteful. My first term of school had closed, when I met a Mrs. Conrad, who had been engaged in the Keokuk, Iowa, hospital. She told me to correspond with Mrs. AVittenmeyer, who would give me the information necessary to secure a position in that OUR AR3iy NURSES. 113 hospital. I wrote to her at once, and received a reply telling me to apply to James E. Yeatman, and inclose testimonials of good moral character, signed by my pastor and the ladies of the Aid Society where I lived. FolloAving her directions I soon had a letter froni Mr. Yeatman, but, alas, there was no opening at that time; but he informed me that as soon as more ladies were needed he would let me know. Months passed in anxious waiting. A winter term of school was begun and finished, and then came the long-looked for commission, and with it Government transportation. I do not suppose an officer in the army, from general down to second lieutenant, ever received his commission with greater delight or enthusiasm. Little time was spent in preparing for my journey, for I was anxious to get at the work, and only a fcAv days elapsed from the time I received my commission until I had reported for duty where I had been assigned. The Benton Barracks Hospital was one of the largest in the West, and included the Amphitheatre and other buildings in the fair grounds of the St. Louis Agricultural Society. In this large hospital there w^ere often two thousand patients. Dr. Russell, of JSTatick, Mass., the surgeon in charge, was every way fitted for his responsible position. One histo- rian in referring to him called him ''that able surgeon and earnest philanthropist." I shall ever cherish his memory. Only a few years ago, and a short time before his death, I received from him the Idndest of 114 OUR ARMY NURSES. letters and a request that I send him my photograph, and all other niir>^es I might ha^'e in my possession, to be put on file in the archives of the Loyal Legion. I am sorry to say I neglected to send them. His home was in Winchendon, Mass., at the time of his death. Benton Barracks, when I Avas there, comprised a promiscuous throng, — Avhite and colored soldiers, refugees, contrabands, teachers, ministers, officers' families, etc. It was especially interesting to me to watch the colored soldiers on dress parade. They realized there was a vast difference betAveen slavery and the overseer's lash, and freedmen in the United States uniform, standing shoulder to shoulder with the men who had fought to make them free. It was a little amusing, too, to see a colored soldier march- ing a white comrade to the guardhouse, as was sometimes the case. They sank to the depths of humiliation themselves AAdien detailed to do duty in the refugee hospitals, for they scorned the " ])o' Avhite trash." In the hospitals they receiA^ed the same care- ful nursing, and everywhere the same humane treat- ment, as the Avhite soldier. Books had been furnished them, and it Avas Avonderful to see hoAV eager they Avere to learn. I Avas deeply touched one day when one of them, an old man, drew from the pocket of his blue coat a Testament, and bowing politely to me, said, "Please, Missus, shoAV me de place Avhere it tells 'bout de many mansions, and Jesus preparin' de way." The day of my arrival at the hospital I Avas met OUR ARMY NURSES. 115 b}' Miss Emily Parsons, superintendent of the nurses. She was one peculiarly gifted and endowed for such a Avork, and it could be truly said of her, '^ She opened her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue was the law of kindness." Her name recalls precious recollections, and I woidd offer this tribute to her memory. From her I received instructions in regard to my appointment and my duties as matron of Ward D, General Hospital. The next morning she opened the door, and following her, I stood for the first time " In the ward of the whitewashed wall, Where the sick and tlie dying lay." She soon retired, and T entered upon my work. The duty of ward matron, as specified, was to at- tend to the special diet of the weaker patients, to see that the wards were kept in order, to minister to the wants of the i)atients, and to give them words of good cheer, both by reading and conversation, and to assist them in con-espondence with their friends at home. Before I had made the rounds in my ward the first morning, my coui-age was put to the test. I approached a cot, and talking with a sick man found he had the small-pox. His cot was only a few feet from my room, which joined the ward. The partition was not a plastered one, but boards placed on end, barn fashion, with sti-ips nailed over the cracks. The air was virtually the same in both ward and nurse's room. Could I lie down and slee[), knowing that every breath I took was freighted with this terrible contagion? I felt somewhat relieved, however, when, 116 OUR ARMY NURSES. before the day was over, the patient was removed to the pest hospital. Poor fellow! I soon heard of his death. I became accustomed to disease in its vari- ous forms, and even small-pox patients were attended with as much care while they remained in the ward, as any others. Though I did escape the small-pox, I could not resist the measles, but had the orthodox United States type of the malady. One thing I could not become accustomed to, and a heart-sick feeling came over me always when I saw the under- taker's cari-iage pass along with its load of cotRns going to the National Cemetery ; and as I have stood ill those cemeteries and looked over the acres and acres of graves, as close as they could be made, where were lying our boys in blue, my feelings were inde- scribable. Appreciation is grateful to all, and the army nurse received it without measure from those to whom she daily ministered. To hear a soldiei' say as he bade her good-bye to join his regiment, after having been nursed back to health," You have saved my life," was the richest compensation she could have received. We had in connection with the hospital one of those special Diet Kitchens, originated by Mrs. Wit- tenmeyer, which furnished delicate articles of food so grateful to the sick. It was a deliglit to me, aftei* having gone the rounds with the surgeon of my ward, to go to this kitchen with my ap]:)roved lists and see them filled, then hear the poor boys say as they tasted the tempting food, " This makes me think OCrR ARMY NURSES. 117 of home." It was the hands of Miss Phcsbe Allen, of Washington, Iowa, that served ns so faithfnlly in the Diet Kitchen for awhile. Then we fokled those hands to rest, and wept tears of sorrow at her un- timely death. As the Benton Barracks was so far i-emoved from the seat of war, there Avas very little of an exciting character while I was there. The work of one day was much like that of every other. Once General Price threatened us, and every soldier who was able, in barracks and hospital, was ordered to sleep on his arms. I remember well that night. After "taps" had been sounded and lights wei'e out I went to my window, and looking out into the night, I wondered if the rebels would really come. After a while I heard in the distance a sound like the tramping of horses' feet and the rumbling of wagon wheels, and I expected every moment that the entire force would be called out to attack General Price and his army. All remained quiet as usual. Still I listened, and soon I could see in the moonlight a train of wagons approaching. It was an enemy in very truth, — only loads of sour commissary bread. In March, 1865, I was transferred to the Nashville Hospital, where Dr. Russell had gone, and Avas serving as surgeon in charge. Before leaving Benton Bar- racks, the soldiers in the ward where I had been for nearly a year presented me with an elegant silk dress pattern, in token of their good will. My work at Nashville was much as it had been be- fore. Many of the patients had been in the engage- 118 OUR ARMY NURSES. ment between Thomas and Hood. It was simply wonderful to see how bravely these men bore their misfortnnes. One who had lost an arm was rejoicing- over the fact that it was not a leg; while one who hobbled abont on crntches thonght he was very for- tunate indeed not to have lost an arm, or, worse, his head. A colored soldier being asked by a visitor what was the matter with him, replied, ^'De doctah says I have de dispensation of de heart." He meant palpitation. There was a large honse with beautiful grounds near by, — confiscated property, — and we were al- lowed to gather the flowers that grew so abundantly. I remember how we would arrange the tricolors, red, white, and blue, upon the little square stands that stood by each soldier's cot, not only bringing cheer to the sick, but calling forth the admiration of the inspecting officers. It was while I was at ^N'ashville that the exciting news of the surrender of Lee's army was received. The cannon thundered forth from Fort IN^eighly until the ground seemed to shake beneath our feet. Then while the air was still vibrating with the echoes and the soldiers' jubilant shouts, a telegram announced the assassination of President Lincoln. In June I was recalled to St. Louis, to enter the work of the Christian Commission. The Sanitary Commission was about closing its work. The war was ended, but months must elapse before the soldier could return home. The Christian Commission, in- stead of disbanding, brought all their resources to the OUR ARMY' NURSES. 119 great work of supplying the soldiers until they were finally mustered out. I left Nashville in July, and returning to Benton Barracks I entered the old Amphitheatre again, — the apartments occupied as the headquarters of the Christian Commission. How distinctly the room comes before me. Along the beams overhead were the words, ""Mother, Home, Heaven."" Scripture mottoes were on the walls. Long tables extended across the room, where soldiers could come to write letters, or read books and papers. On a little plat- form was a place usually occupied by a lady dele- gate of the Commission, and above this was the motto, '^Let woman's influence be felt in behalf of her country.*" Here one of the ladies was usually found with busy hands distributing supplies to those who came into the reading room. The badge she wore was a safe passport to the hospital, barracks, or camp. She worked for God and humanity, and wherever she went the blessing of the soldiers fol- lowed her. The work of mustering out was going on as rapidly as possible; and as the mighty armies melted awa}^ and our soldiers went from camp to home, the de- mand for workers grew less. At last there came a day when we were needed no longer. Our work among the soldiers was done. December 3, 1865, I left St. Louis, and reached my home at Troy, Iowa, in time to celebrate my twenty-third birthday, which occurred the same month, having been gone almost two years. 120 OUR ARMY NURSES. One year after my return I was married to Rev. E. H. Coddington. When the war broke out he was a student at the Iowa Weslevan University, at Mt. Pleasant. At the first call to arms he enlisted in Company F, 14th Iowa Infantry. At the battle of Foi't Doiielson a rebel musket shot shattered his left arm, rendering a shoulder-joint amputation necessary. After being discharged and regaining sufficient health, he entered college again. Then came the call for more men, and again he enlisted in the ser- vice of his countr}', and was commissioned Captain, Comj^any II, •loth low a. Serving out his term, he was dischai'ged, and entered college the third time, and graduated w ith the class of 1866. The following year he entered the ministr}^, and in December w^e were married. Though he had not fully recovered from the loss of his arm, and knew he never would, yet he hoped his life might be spared long enough to brinof to him the realization of some of his brigflit hopes and aspiration. So with brave and happy liearts we enjoyed the present, and planned foi* the future. Seven years of successful work in the ministry, four years of mtense suffering, then came the end. He w^as not, for God took him. Two little children had preceded him to the heavenly home; two remained to my care and love, — a son ten years old, a daugh- ter five. I saw them grow to manhood and w oman- hood, and graduate from the same college that graduated their father. My son entered journalism, but applied himself too OUR ARMY NURSES. 121 closely to his work. Last May his health failed, and his physician advised him to go to Colorado. In ^TsTovember I was called to Denver to see him die, and I brought him home, and laid him beside his father. When my daughter is not away teaching school she is with me. But for her my life would be as lonely and desolate as when I l)ecame an army nurse. Belle Coddestgto^t. Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. Tlie life-blood that our father's gave Still warms the firm and free. Free as our eagle spreads his wings, We own no tyrant's rod, No master, but the king of kings. No monarch, but our God ! — Mks, E. T. Daniels. 122 OUR ARMY NURSES. THE LIVELY OLD LADY. " By the fireside cozily seated, With spectacles riding her nose, The lively old lady is knitting A wonderful pair of hose. She pities the shivering soldier Who is out in the pelting storm, And busily plies her needles To keep him hearty and w^arm. " Her eyes are reading the embers, But her heart is off to the war. For she knows what tliose brave fellows Are gallantly fighting for. Her fingers as well as her fancy Are cheering them on their way, Who, under the good old banner, Are saving their country to-day. " She ponders how, in her childhood, Her grandmother used to tell The story of barefoot soldiers, Who fought so long and well. And the men of the Revolution Are nearer her than us ; And that, perhaps, is the reason Why she is toiling thus. OUR ARMY NURSES. 123 " She cannot shoulder a musket, Nor ride with cavahy crew, But, nevertheless, she is ready T(j work for the boys who do. Her heart may be larger and braver Than his who is tallest of all ; The work of her hands as important As cash that buys powder and ball. "And thus, while her quiet performance Is being recorded in rhyme. The tools in her tremulous fingers Are running a race with Time. Strange that four needles can form A perfect triangular bound ; And equally strange that their antics Result in perfecting ' the round.' " And now, while beginning ' to narrow,' She thinks of the Maryland mud, And wonders if ever the stocking Will wade to the ankle in blood. And now she is ' shaping the heel,' And now she is ready ' to bind,' And hopes if the soldier is wounded, It never will be from behind. "And now she is ' raising the instep,' Now narrowing off at the toe. And prays that this end of the worsted May ever be turned to the foe. She gathers the last of the stitches. As if a new laurel were won ; Now placing the ball in the basket. Announces the stockinjr is done." 124 OUR ARMY NURSES. 'jji li^'iffTiriWMttf II MRS. RUTH H. SINNOTTE. J WAS commissioned by Mr. Yeatman, in St. Louis, as nurse at large, and sent on board the steamer "Imperial," a hospital boat plying between St. Louis and Pittsburg Landing; Dr. Gove surgeon iu charge, and Dr. Bixliy assistant sur- geon. I remained on board the " Imperial " until the Tennessee River had fallen so Ioav the boat could go no farther, and went out of the hospital service. I was then sent by the medical director on board the '^Ella," and remained on that boat until she went out of hos- pital service, and became a ti'an sport boat. Then Dr. Douglass, the medical director, sent me to Monterey, in Tennessee, the receiving hospital of Corinth battlefield, in charge of Dr. Eaton; I think he was from ^ew York. While there I was sun- struck, and on the third day Avas attacked with yellow jaundice. I then obtained a furlough, and went home to Illinois. As soon as able I reported to Gov- ernor Yeates, who ordered me to go South with the 113th, or Board of Trade Regiment, Colonel Hoge. The colonel put my name on the muster roll as matron for three years, or to the close of the war. I went to Memphis with the reghnent, and we encamped at Camp Peabody, about two miles from the city. AVhen they went on the TuLihoma I'aid I accom- panied them, by particuhu" request of Colonel Hoge. The fourth day, was sent with all the sick 126 OUR ARMY NURSES. to Holly Springs, Mississippi. Was there a num- ber of weeks, and l)efbre Bragg- took the place was ordered to Meni])his; on the way was told the troops had gone down the rivei', and General "Wright advised nie to keep on down to the fleet. I did so. While with the Vicksbni-g fleet, one day I noticed the boat I Avas on was drao<>ino: her hawser from the tree where she had been fastened. I reported to the captain. He said, ^'I know it.'' There was no steam on, and we were drifting down the river. The captain said we were going to Vicksburg, and were only a half mile from the line between the two armies. Among the sick was a captain of one of the com- panies of the 113th Illinois Regiment. I immediately went to him and reported the treachery on boaixl of the boat. He could do nothing, as he was too ill to raise his head. He swoi'e me, and gave me the neces- sary signal. I went on the hurricane deck; no one was there, no one on the pilot house. I gave the signal as he told me. In a moment I saw it answ^ered. Immediately the " Von Pool " came down and towed the boat to the u})[)er end of the fleet, and pnt a stop to our going to Vicksburg. All of the crew, from the captain to the chambermaid, were so very angry they would have killed me had they known I Avas responsible for the change of programme. AVe had several Avounded ofiicers among the load of sick and disabled men on my first trip from Pitts- burg Landing to St. Louis. Our transport Avas the " Imperial.'' Each officer had an orderly to Avait upon OUR ARMY NURSES. 127 him. The attendant of one, a colonel, came to me and said, "Are you afraid of the colonel?" I replied I was not. Then said he, " I wish you would see if you can do anything with him, but I really fear he will kill you." " Oh, no ; I will go : where is he ? " He pointed the way, keeping well out of sight of the officer. When I came to the stateroom he occupied the door was ajar. I looked in and said, " Good morning, Colonel." He answered, " What do you want here?" "I came to see if you have had break- fast." "1^0, and don't A\ ant any." But I said: ^^You must eat something. I will see what I can get that you may relish." I went to the kitchen, toasted a slice of bread, poached an ^^^^ poured it over the toast, made a bowl of chicken broth, and a cup of green tea and apple jelly made up the breakfast. I put it on a waiter with a white napkin (these things were for officers only), went to his room, and said, "ISTow see what of this you can eat." "Can't I get rid of you? I wish I had something to throw at you, but I have thrown everything I can get at that Dutchman," meaning his attendant. I said, "You must eat; there is no other way for you." "I will tip over that cart of yours," and he made a spring toward the tray. I said, " Sir, stop such pranks, and take some of this food immediately." He then grabbed the toast, crammed it all into his mouth, the broth followed with a gulp, the tea and jelly in turn, all in less time than I am telling you. I said to him, " That was pretty good, wasn't it?" "Good enough." " Will you eat more if I get it for you? " " I suppose 128 OUR ARMY NURSES. I can if I must." I prepared the same amount. He ate it all, using a knife and fork. I then asked why he treated me so badly when I was only trying to help him. He told me this story : " I am from Marion County, 111. Was acknowledged to be the richest man in the county. I raised a whole regiment and equipped it. They chose me their colonel. I had a wife and child, a little girl. I settled all my business, made my will, appointed my wife adminis- tratrix and guardian of my child. I took my regi- ment, was accepted, and went to the front. As soon as I was gone my W"ife sold everything I had and put the money in the Confederate cause, took my child and went to IN^ew Orleans, her former home. I was in the battle of Pittsburg Landing; had my leg shattered, and amputated at the hip. ISTow I have lost my property, my wife and my child, lost my leg, and what have I to live for? " I waited a moment, then said, — " You must live for the good that needs assistance, For the bad that needs resistance, , For the future in the distance, And the good that you can do." He was all right to the end of the trip, and ate his food as I gave it to him. He was left at St. Louis. I think he was put into Benton Barracks. We went back to Pittsburo- Landing- for another load of the mano:led human freio^ht. On our return to St. Louis I learned the colonel was dead, — had died because he would not eat. OUR ARMY NURSES. 129 On my second trip on the '"'" Imperial " my ward was the cabin. One afternoon, having got my men made comfortable for the night, I thought I would go to the lower deck, and see what the conditions were there. I heard the surgaon say to an attendant, "You need not give him anything more; he won't live till morning." I asked the doctor what his sickness was. " He has the typhoid fever, and is now in the sink- ing state." I said, "Can I do something for him?" " You can do all you hke ; it will avail nothing." I said, "Will you give me an order on the drugstore?" (The bar of the boat was the drugstore.) He tore a leaf from a memorandum book and wrote, "Let Mrs. Sinnotte have whatever she wants from the drugstore." I ordered a cup of brandy and some red pepper. I mixed them, dipped cloths into the mixture and bound them onto the bottoms of his feet, the palms of his hands, and over the breast-bone. I tried a little of the brandy to his lips. He could not swallow. Then I tried a few drops of water. After a while the water ran down his throat without strangling him; then I got a little chicken broth, and alternated every fifteen minutes, a few drops of bi-andy, then of the broth. I stood over him for hours. After awhile I noticed a change for the better. He could swallow, and his pulse was quite perceptible. Finally it beat as quick as I wanted to feel it. After mid- night I became quite faint ; I had not eaten. I could not stop for supper. I called the best nurse on the boat to relieve me. I went to my quarters, but could not undress. I unfastened my shoes, then fell into 130 OUR ARMY NURSES. a faint, or dead sleep. Did not awake until the sun called me, shining through the slats of my door. I went to my patient. He looked up and smiled. The doctor soon came along, and said, "Why, ain't he dead yet?" The sick man whispered, " She," pointing to me. The doctor asked me what I had done. I said, " I attended to him as though he were my own, and in our own home.'' I asked if I could have him in my ward. He said, "" Yes; you deserve to have him." When he got to St, Louis he walked the length of the boat between two men, shook hands with me, and said: " God bless you always. You have saved me to my wife and five children." Mrs. Ruth Helena Sinnotte. 132 OUR ARMY NURSES. ELIZABETH S. WARD. ,1 I J LEFT m}" home in South Bristol, AYis., Septem- ber 22, 1864, for Louisville, Ivy. My first period of service was in Foundry Transfer Hospital of that place, under Surgeons Prescott and Phelps; where I remained until January 28, 1865, when I left under orders for Nashville, Tenn. I was the first woman in charge of the light Diet Kitchen in Wilson Colored Hospital, and served there under Surgeon Kussell, until I was taken danger- ously ill with typhoid fever about the 25th of March, from which I recovered sufficiently to be removed by easy stages to my home the last of May, 1865. My period of service was short, when compared with that of many who entered in the earlier years of the war; but I was too young at that time to be accepted, yet I feel very grateful that I was enabled, even in so short a time, to relieve, comfort, and cheer many sick and wounded soldiers. Sincerely yours, Elizabeth S. Ward. Pleasant Prairik, Wis. 133 134 OUR ARMY NURSES. LUCY (FENMAN) BARRON. J WAS a regimental nurse in our late war, from March, 1861 to March, 1863, and went from place to place wherever the "boys " Avere ordered. I was sworn in as nurse by Capt. S. M. Davis, but neglected to be enrolled. I served at Camp Reed, Erie, two months, then went with the troops to Maryland, where I entered the Regimental Hospital at Baltimore. In May, 1862, we went to Harper's Feriy, and I served in the Gen- eral Hospital there until the surrender in September, when we returned to Washington, and I was stationed in many different places that one could hardly call hospitals, for almost every house contained some sick or wounded. While in West Virginia the rebels took me for a target, but, praise God, they missed their mark, and the bullet whistled above my head. Once they sur- rounded us, and we could get no supplies for nearly three weeks. At the last w^e had nothing to eat but hard-tack, and not much of that. At this extremity oui" men fought their way out; the commander of the place surrendered, and was shot for it, as a traitor. I had a severe time among those rebels while I had the typhoid fever, receiving care only from the good Union doctor. We dared not say we were Union, or we might have been killed. When able to travel I returned to the Regimental Hospital in West Vu*- 135 136 OUR ARMY NURSES. ginia where I remained, until I returned to my home. While in the College Hospital, at Georgetown, an affecting scene was enacted. A young soldier was wounded in the shoulder, severing the main artery, and he would die in a few moments if the blood were allowed to flow; but we nurses took turns in holding back the life-stream until he could be baptized; then he said: "I am ready now. You may take away your hand," and in a very few minutes he died. Lucy (Fenmak) Barron. EUUEKA, CaL. OUR GRAND ARMY OF THE DEAD. Fast asleep the boys are lying in their low and narrow tents, And no battle-cry can wake them, and no orders call them hence ; And the yearning of the mother, and the anguish of the wife. Cannot with their .magic presence call the soldier back to life ; And the brother's manly sorrow, and the father's mournful pride. Cannot give back to his country him who for his country died: They who for the trembling nation in its hour of trial bled. Lie, in these its years of triumph, with our army of the dead. When the reign of Time is ended, and Eternity begun ; When the thunders of Omniscience on our wakened senses roll. And the sky above shall wither and be gathered like a scroll ; When, among the lofty mountains and across the mighty sea, The sublime, celestial bugler shall ring out the reveille, — Then shall march with brightest laurels and with proud, victorious tread. To their station up in heaven, our grand army of the dead. / 138 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. RENA MINER. a!.k, Ind. vxi 194 OUR ARMY NURSES. OUR COUNTRY'5 FLAQ. Thou glorious flag of Freedom's air, With folds so grandly swelling, In every star emblazoned there Proud memories are dwelling ! Should danger come from any shore. And fields grow rich with slaughter, In thy defense our hearts would pour Their crimson tide like water. Chorus. — Our flag, our flag, our country's flag! Should danger e'er assail tliee, The bugles' call will find us all ; We'll never, never fail thee ! For life or death, our latest breatli Would wish thy greatest glory ; And never shame should soil thy fame. Embalmed in song and story. Our sabi'es bright would guide the fight, While war steeds, madly neighing. Would wildly dash where cannons flash, And hands were red with slaying ! Our infantry's united files. Like stone walls, would be ready To meet opposing foemen's wiles, And always would be steady. And when the bugle rang surcease. Far in the foremost sally — Though woeful Avere their ranks' decrease ■ The rest would sternly rally I And when the star-eyed Peace returned. On Victory's field descending. And quenchless ardor brightly burned For home and friends attending. What glorious welcome there would be For those who did their duty ; And shouts of gladness, songs and glee. From lips of youth and beauty I VM'y OUR ARMY NURSES. SAMUEL C WRIGHT. MONG tliosc wliose service in the hospitals during the war deserves special mention, one whose service commenced early in 18(31 and continued until the close of the long and bitter struggle, stands the name of Mi-s. Hannah D. Moir; a name near and dear to many a faithful de- fender of the Union who has cause to-day to bless her memory. She was one who made the last moments of many a dying hero more pleasant by her faithful care. She was a daughter of ISTathaniel Thomas, but married a man named Moir, who held a commission in the main army. He was severely wounded, and died of his wounds in a Washington hc^spital, where his faithful wife ministered to his wants luitil the end; then felt it her duty to remain, and care for other brave men who needed her attention. Here her noble, self-sacrificing nature could find full scope. All so blessed as to come under her care were made to feel the influence of her gentle words. Young, bright, and of a cheerful disposition, she cast only rays of sunshine in her pathway, cheering the boys who lay sick or wounded as only a woman can. Kind, sympathetic, taking the burdens of others on herself so far as she was able, going on errands of mercy from one place to another, she was, in fact, a ministering angel to all within the reach of her care 107 198 OUR ARMY NURSES. or influence. I feel that \\\s pen is inadequate to the task of giving my readers any conception of her goodness; but the recording angel, I fully believe, has wi'itten her deeds, and the "AVell clone '' has been pronounced for her in heaven. The writer of this sketch can vouch for her good woi'ks, as, severely wounded he lay, for months under her tender care. I have been invited to tell an incident in connection with my faithful nurse, and have consented, as I feel it ma}- be of interest to some of the readers of this book. I had been in Harewood Hospital for several weeks, being ministered to l)y this faithful friend, before I was aware that only a few miles separated our birth- places. Among the things in my possession was a case containing over one hundred photographs of my friends in the Xorth. I had carried these three years and more, and they had been a great comfort to me. They lay on the table at the head of my cot, and the boys who were a])le to Avalk would come to look at them. One day while they were thus engaged Mrs. Moir, in passing, noticed one in the hands of a soldier who had been my roommate, in former }■ ears, at Brook- line, Mass. Stopping, she addi-essed me thus: " How came you by that lady's picture? " "She gave it to me," I replied, " as she formerly belonged in my town." ''■ Where is your company from?" she asked. ^^ Plymouth," I replied. " Why, I was from Duxbury, and that makes us neighbors, does it not? " From that time the friendship ah-eady existing strength- ened, and my own dear mother could not have done OUR ARMY NURSES. I99 more for me than did my nurse. I wrote my friend of the discovery of her ohl friend, and a corre- spondence was opened, which for some unknown reason stopped at the close of the war. I was brought to my home, and for a long time was helpless; but as time wore away, and my wounds allowed me to travel, I proceeded to visit Duxbnry in search of my faithful friend, but all my labor was in vain. Years came and went, and still my longings were not satisfied. I wished once more to meet her and reward her for her kindness. Years later the friend, formerly of Brookline, said to me, ^^I have got track of Mrs. ]Moir, and as soon as I locate her I will write to you of her whereabouts; she is writing in some office in Boston.'' j^ow comes the singular part of my story. As each Christmas came it made my desire to reward my nurse more earnest, for I felt that I owed my life to her care and devotion. One Christmas Eve I had made my usual presents, then I said to my good wife : "Only one thing remahis to be done. Could I find her, I should make Mrs. Moir a present; then I should be content." In a dream that night I thought myself on the same battlefield whei-e I was last wounded, Avith every stick, stone, and stump about me as of old. As I lay there a woman approached me, passed, and turning back, came and called my name as she grasped my hand. I at once recognized Mrs. Moir, dressed in her deep black, as of old. I never saw any one more 200 OUR .lAWV AV^RSES. plainly than I saw her. As I looked, the foi'm van- ished; but the black-gloved hand remained, and for several moments I felt plainly the pressnre of that friendly grasp. I s])rang from my bed and told my wife the dream, the same as I have related it to yon, my readers, ^ow jndge of my snrprise "when on the way to my office, walking down Broadway, Sontli Boston (an nnusnal thing to do), as I passed my uncle, J. T. Cole's, undertaker's rooms, he stood in the doorway and invited me in. I accepted the invitation, seated myself by his desk, and carelessly glanced at a burial permit, on which I read these words, " 3Irs. Hannah D. Moir, daughter of Capt. Nathaniel Thomas, of Dux- biiry, aged 38.*" I fainted dead away as I read, and when once moi-e I was myself, my uncle said, "AVhat was it that so affected you?" I replied, "You have listened to the story of my nurse; that death certificate is for her, I am sure ; I know by the way the name is spelled." He said, " This lady wrote in the office of Lawyer Robb, at 25 Bi'omfield Street, Boston, and boarded at 428 (I think) Broadway, South Boston." It was near my own home. I at once visited 25 Bromfield Street, and there learned that my fears were too true. The recital by her of my wounds was retold to me. I saw her in her casket, and, oh, how I longed for those closed eyes to open, those sealed lips to speak as of old! But she had gone to her reward. The dream I had of her, and the time I sprang from my bed, OrR ARM)' Nl'RSES. 201 Avas within five iiiiiuites of the time lier spirit took its flight. Since then, all I can do is from time to time to decorate her grave with flowers; but I hope one da}' to express my gratitude to one of God's noble women. I might speak of the faithful service of others who ministered to my wants in the Overton Hospital, at Memphis, or on the battlefield; also on the journey to Washington, when I was near death's door; but it is not mine to know their names, although their memory is engraved on my heart, never to be erased. Their kind words and deeds should, and ever will, live in my memory. May God bless the faithful nurses, living and dead, Avho served their country, and did as heroic duty as did any general or pi-ivato who woi-e a uniform of blue. May Heaven deal kindly by the army nurses, as they dealt kindly by us. Samuel C. Wright. 29n Statk Street, Boston, Mass. We append the record of army service of the writer, S. C. Wright, whose photograjDh accom- panies the sketch. Fii-st enlisted at Plymouth, Mass., May 8, 1861. Mustei'cd into the United States service at Fortress Monroe, Ta., May 21, 1861. Was in twenty-one battles, and wounded as follows : — At White Oak Swamp, Ta., in head by shell; rejwrted in Xew York papers as killed. 202 OUR ARMY NURSES. At Aiitietam, in l)()th legs by rifle ball, while answering call for volunteers to pull down the fence pi'evious to the famous charge into the corn- field. Here he was first promoted on the field for bravery. At Cold Harbor he was wounded in the arm by a rifle ball. At the battle of the Crater, before Petersburg, he was shot in the head by rifle ball, destroying his right eye. Here he was left on the field for dead, and so ofiicially reported. (See Adjutant-General's Keport, three years, Vol. E., 29th Massachusetts Volunteers.) He was later promoted for gallantry in this action. While in a hospital at Memphis with typhoid fever, word was sent to the regiment of his death, and his things were sent home, Avith a letter to his mother. In Kentucky he was run over by a ponderous army wagon, loaded with one hundred and eighty bushels of oats, and his feet and body were badly crushed. Later his leg Avas broken in a successful attempt to save a piece of artilleiy deserted by another corps on a retreat to Knoxville, Tenn. Owing to this accident he was obliged to crawl or draw himself for thirteen miles between the Rebel and Union skirmish lines, suffering untold agony. After the regiment returned home, an association was formed, and for over twenty yeais he has been its secretary, and Avas made color-beai-er foi- life. 204 OUR ARMY NURSES. 'X :m^ ^ HANNAH C. SHEPPARD. J T has been so long since I passed through the sad scenes of the war, that they seem much iike a dream to which it would be hard for me to give definite outline. I went from my native place, Millville, ^. J., July 6, 18(34, and Miss Dix assigned me to duty at the Chesapeake Officers' Hospital, Fortress Monroe. The !N^ew Camp, Hampton and Chesapeake Hospi- tals, were all under one surgeon, — Dr. McClellen. They were not near any city, but were just above Fortress Monroe, on a point often called Old Point Comfort. In the fall of 18(34: 1 was assigned to the Hampton and 'New Camp Hospitals, where I remained until the following June; being discharged June 28, 1865. I served under the name of Hannah Bowman, but was married a year later. Yours in F., C. and L., Ha]s:n^ah C. Sheppakd. Port Elizabktji, N. J. 206 OUR ARMY NURSES. ESTELLE S. JOHNSON. JHA"\TE been requested to write what I can re- member about my life as an army nurse, while in the hospital of the 4th Vermont Volun- teers. I hardly know what to say, as it is new work for me to write for a book. When the war broke out I lived in a little country village shut in by the mountains of Vermont. One day in August, 1861, Leonard Stearns came in search of recruits. My husband and his brother-in-law were among those who enlisted, and sister and I objected, naturally; telling the recruiting officer that if our husbands went we should go too, but not thinldng that such a thing could be. In the course of a week Mr. Stearns came and told us that the colonel said that although nurses had not been called for, he w^anted us to go. The boys formed a company under Capt. Leonard A. Stearns, and went into camp at Brattleboro. They w^ere as- signed to the 4th Vermont Regiment, Compau}" I. On September 18th we were sent to join them, and on the 20th signed our names — Estelle S. Johnson and Lydia A. Wood — to the I'oll, and were sworn in by Lieutenant Higby, in the presence of the colonel, adjutant, and major, the Governor of Vermont and his son-in-law. The Governor tried to persuade us not to go. The regiment started about eight o'clock that evening, and went by rail to Stonington, where 207 208 OUR ARMY NURSES. they embarked for Xew York, an-iving there the next day in the forenoon. Thence l)y rail to Phihi- delphia, where we arrived in the evening, and mai'ched to Cooper's Hall, where a collation was prepared for ns. I do believe it w\as the best meal I ever ate; we were very hnngry. Late that night we went on board a train for Washington, and this time we did not get along very fast. It seemed as if we only crawled, so slow was onr progi-ess. A few miles beyond the Relay we fonnd the rails torn np in apiece of woods; bnt they were soon replaced, and we proceeded on our way, reaching Washington abont eight o'clock in the evening. The colonel found a place for sister and I to rest at the "Soldiers' Retreat/' where we had supper, lodging and breakfast; then went to join the company. From the depot they marched to Federal Hill, where the " tents were pitched September 23d. I had left a little gii'l at home, who was one year old that day. We stayed there a week; then the 9th Wisconsin came on the ground. It was i-aining hard, and the colonel wonld not move his men, so sister and I took tlie seven ladies who were Avith tlie regiment into the tent with ns over night. One thing I must mention before we leave Federal Hill. Away in the distance was stationed another reofiment. One evening near sunset we were look- ing over there, when we saw some men drawn np in line to shoot a comrade for desertion. I did not see the shooting, but I heard the report of the guns, and OUR ARMY XrRSES. 209 knew another i><)<)r fellow liad paid tlie jjenalty of desertion. September 28tli we again started on the march. We crossed Chain Bridge, and halted that night close to Fort Smith. Only one tent was pitched; that was for the women. When all had tni-ned in and were nicely settled for sleep, an order came to go into the fort, as an attack was expected; bnt we stayed in onr tent ontside and slept sonndly all night. ]N^ext day we crossed the road, and pitched the tents on a slight elevation. This place was called Camp Advance. Here we were assigned to the 1st Ver- mont Brigade, Brig, ^yilliam F. Smith commanding. "We stayed here nearly two weeks. The 2d Ver- mont was not far away, and there were five women with them, and some of the boys were from onr home. Once we visited them. Soon after we moved on, and pitched onr tents at Camp Griffin. Here was a level strip of gronnd, with a large corn-field on one side. A day or two later the long roll was called before daylight. That da}^ the camjD was shelled by the relicls, bnt the shells did not reach ns. The cap- tain wanted sister and I to go back to Langley; bnt I told him if he thonght we wonld rnn at the first fire he was greatly mistaken. As soon as possible a hospital was established, a few miles from camp, in a deserted honse. I went there as nnrse, or, as Dr. Allen called me, '"" matron." In this honse there were three rooms and a kitchen on the first floor, and three above; the one over the kitchen being a low room, Avith roof slo23ing to 210 OUR ARMY NURSES. the floor and with no hght. Here some of the boys were lying, with nothing but their rubber blankets under them, and for some time no regular sick ra- tions were issued. One day Robert Langdon came over to see us from the 2d Regiment. He reported to General Brooks how the boys were situated, and things were made lively for a day or two. The old house underwent a thorough change. Cots were made, and ticks filled with straw, hay, or corn- shucks; and soon the boys were comparatively comfortable. I occupied one of the upper rooms, and kept thei-e my hospital stores. Many of the soldiers were sick with typhoid fever, and my husband soon had it. I slept very lightly, and often was called to get the necessary things in which to lay out some poor fellow who had died in the night. Fi'om my room I had to go down stairs by passing through a narrow hall just the width of a door. Here was where they laid the dead, and sometimes there would be two, side by side, and it would be hard to pass them in the narrow space. It gave me an awful feeling to crowd by them in the dead of night. We had been at the hospital about ten days when sister Lydia was taken sick with the fever, and died the ninth day. Robert Langdon brought Amanda Farnham and Mrs. Black to prepare her for burial; but the boys could not bear to have her buried as the soldiers were, so clubbed together and paid the ex- pense of having her embalmed and sent home, and her husband with her. He arrived befoi-e the colfin OUR ARMY NURSES. 211 did, and that nig'ht was taken down with the black measles. She was kept three weeks, then buried beside her little girl ; her husband getting there just after she was buried. After her death my husband was much worse, and for days it was doubtful whether he could live or not, but he slowly recovered. The care of him in addition to my other duties kept me busy and from being homesick. When he became convalescent, Dr. Allen wanted me to go to the Brigade Hospital in the same capacity in which I was serving there; but I objected to going so far from my husband, who would soon return to his company. I remember many of the boys so well. One called Phillips would be up and around one day, the next would be very sick. Chaplain Smith came often to see him; but as he grew worse he was sent to the Brigade Hospital, where he lived only one week. There were two Bailey brothers, and the doctor said there was nothing the matter with them but homesickness. Nearly every day I would go to them and read, or perhaps write letters for them, but they soon died. Another, Charlie Persons, had black measles. I used to go to him every day and do all I could. One evening an attendant came to tell me Charlie was dying. It was only too true. There he lay, his hands clasped over his head, apparently sleeping, but, really, quietly passing away. I took from under his pillow the picture of his lady-love, and this with other things I sent to her, — all but her 212 OUR ARMY NURSES. letters, which I burned, for fear curious eyes might read them. I went to Washington twice with Surgeon Allen. The first time I stopped over night Avith Miss Dix. Her house was filled with supplies. I shall always remember that visit. The next time Amanda Farn- ham and I went to get some needed things. We went to Georgetown in an army Avagon, then walked on from there. Being veiy hungry we went into a bakery for something to eat. When the German woman who had charge saw our uniforms, she invited us into her kitchen to have some dinner, and woidd not accept any pay. Well, in course of time my husband went on duty again, but it was too soon, and the fever settled in his right knee, so I had him under my charge once more. March 21, 1862, the sick were all sent away, as preparations were being made for an advance ; my husband being sent to Alexandria. Surgeon Allen said he would never be able to march again, and he had to get a discharge. After this I did not feel that I could stay ; but they said as he had a discharge I should not need one. How I have wished since that I had it. This was just before the battle of Lee's Mills. I left the regiment March 23, 1862, and reached home April 3d, my service covering only a little over six months; and as our regiment was not in any battle during that time, I had no wounded to care for, and have no thrilling ad- ventures to relate. OUR ARMY NURSES. 213 I hope you may have Amanda Farnham's experi- ence. Mine will be nothing beside hers, for she was out during the whole war. She was married after I left. I do not know her present name, or if, indeed, she is living; but if she is I ho]3e she may read this, and that I may hear from her. Yours in F., C. and L., ESTELLE S. JOHXSON. HOLYOKE, Mass. 1st Massachusetts Infantry. National Cennetery, Gettysburg, Penn. 214 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. EMILY E. WOODLEY, ARMY NLRSE. 216 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. MARY J. WATSON. )FTER the battle of Stone River there came a call from Governor Morton, of Indiana, for twenty-live nnrses, fifty surgeons and ward masters, and a large supply of sanitary goods of every description. I was the second one to put my name on the list of nurses to go to ^N^ashville, Tenn., to help take care of the sick and wounded in Hospital 14, which was a five-story building, a female seminary; but now full, from basement to attic, of sick and wounded soldiers. There were over five hundred there at one time, so I was told. I think it was true, for every bunk was full, and men were lying in the aisle with nothing but their blankets under them, and each waiting for some poor soul to die or be sent away, so he could get a bed. That looks hard, but it is true. I could not go up or down stairs but I would often meet the men nurses carrying some poor fellow to the dead-house. For the first two weeks after the battle they averaged from twenty-five to thirty deaths a day, the ward master told me. Oh ! it was terrible to hear the poor fellows, some praying, some calling for wife and children, others for father, mother, brother or sister, while the death damp was gathering on the brow, and they knew they would never see home or friends again. But I must not allow myself to think, or I shall write too much. 217 218 OUR ARMY NURSES. I remained at the hospital from January until some time in March, when I was taken sick with typhoid fever, and had to leave for awhile. Then Governor Morton and William Hannaman sent me down to Murfreesboro, Tenn., to nurse in the field hospital in the fort. I Avent in July, 1863, and stayed until the last of February, 1864. When I went, my husband was hing at the point of death in the fort. I was the only white woman there for two or three weeks, though there were several colored women, to do the cooking and washing. I drew sanitary supplies for the sick, and did every- thing in my power for them. I stayed Avith the brigade until it was ordered to the front to join Sherman in his march to the sea; then I came home, as I needed rest. Yours in F., C and L., Mits. Mary J. AYatson. 77 N. Liberty St., Indianapolis, Ind. 220 OUR ARMY NURSES. JANETTE MAXWELL IN'.ORRILL. J WAS commissioned by the colonel of the 6th Regiment, Michigan Infantry, Aug. 28, 1861, and served in Baltimore, Maryland, until April, 1862, when I was assigned by Miss Dix to the Judiciary Square General Hospital, Washington, D. C. On account of severe illness, I left the ser- vice :N^ov. 1, 1863. Among the many amusing incidents of hospital life was the case of a man nearly fifty years of age, who, with half a regiment, was brought in sick with the measles. I could not make him understand the nature of a contagious disease. He thought he was sick enough to die ; and remembering my own experi- ence when I w^as a child, I did not much wonder. When at last he comprehended that in order to take the disease one must come in contact w ith some one who has it, he wanted me to write to his wife imme- diately, and tell her to see that the children have the measles, all but the baljy. Why he made that excep- tion he would not say; but made me begin and end the letter by telling "Eliza to have the children catch the measles." A very pathetic thing occurred at one time when a number of patients were brought into the General Hospital at Washington. I was busy here and there with those who seemed most in need of care, when something like a sob reached my ear. I heard it 221 222 OUR ARMY NURSES. several times, and it fixed my attention. I passed slowly along the ward, among" the fifty or sixty beds, and finally reached a youth who looked as thongh his place were in the schoolroom rather than as a soldier. When he saw me watching him he broke down com- pletely, and cried like a child. My own tears mingled with his as I tried to comfort him. I learned that he was not sixteen when he. left his widowed mother in Kentucky and started for the front, and that night was the first time in eighteen months that he had heard a woman's voice. But to me the saddest of all memories, and the one that makes other sorrows seem lighter, is the search for the missing ones, those for whom it was impos- sible to account, — father, brother, husband or lover. The thought of the dreadful uncertainty hanging over so many lives all these years, makes me very thankful that my graves are on the quiet hillside at home. Yours in F., C. and L., Janette Maxwell Mokkill. Lawton, Mich. 224 OUR ARMY XURSES. MRS. ELIZABETH E. ELLIS. T^OUR letter addressed to my mother, Mrs. Eliza- Y beth E. Ellis, was forwarded to me, as she was I called to her reward three years ago. I am ^^ sorry I cannot give yon as full an account as I should like, but will do the best I can, as I would like her work to be known. My father, too, served three years and a half, and finally lost his life on the ill-fated " Sultana." Mother volunteered, and was duly enrolled as an army nurse, Jan. 14, 1863. She was then twenty- eight years old. She served at Woodward Post Hospital, Cincinnati, Ohio, for fifteen months, when, owing to ill health, she was honorably discharged. She Avent from Talmage, Ohio, and served under Dr. Henry Johnson, at least a part of the time. I know her heart and soul were in the work, and she never lost her interest in the old soldiers, but during her last years was the means of securing pen- sions for some who were under her care in the hospital. In F., C. and L., Mrs. Nettie E. Wenk. Knightstown, Ind. 225 226 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. ELIZABETH COPE. J^ 1861, when the Rebellion broke out, I was living on a farm in Iowa, with my husband and four sons, of whom the eldest was eighteen years, and the youngest one year old. My husband enlisted in August, 1861 ; but before being sworn in he became very ill, and died August 31st. The fol- lov^dng year my eldest son enlisted. He was wounded during the battle of S]3ringfield ; then followed a long illness, and the doctors sent him home to die, but with the aid of careful nursing he recovered suffi- ciently to re-enlist, and was sent to Omaha, as hospi- tal steward, and served there until the close of the war. I entered a hospital at Keokuk in July, 1862, and served as ironer until IS^ovember; then I was duly enrolled as an army nurse, and served until June 26, 1864. I was the only female nurse in the house, and if this falls under the observation of the soldiers who were there at that time, I think many will remember me. I tried to do all in my power for those who needed help, and I am very grateful that my efforts were so highly appreciated. Mrs. Elizabeth Cope. 528 18th Street, Oakland, Cal. 227 228 OUR ARMY NURSES. jfj'' MARTHA A. BAKER. J WAS bom in Concord, IncL, April 9, 1838, a daughter of Benjamin and Anna Denton. At the age of sixteen I went to Sugar Grove Insti- tute. In 1859, my mother and father both being dead, I was married to Abner Baker. In February, 1862, my husband enhsted in the 40th Indiana Vokmteers, leaving me at my brother's with our little girl. After the battle of Chickamauga he was sent to Nashville, in charge of twenty-seven officers. Finding that he was an extra nurse, he was transferred to the 160th Battalion Yeteran Relief Corps, and made chief wound-dresser of one ward in the Officers' Hospital. He then wrote for me, and I went from Stockwell, Ind., January, 1864, and was appointed to the Special Diet Kitchen, under the charge of Major Lyons. At that time we prepared food for the Officers' Hospital and No. 2, — about five hundred men. Just before the battle of Atlanta a good many of the boys went home to vote, and it cut us short of hands, as we had fifteen hundred to cook for, and but little help. Our strength was taxed to the utmost. Sometimes it was almost impossible to keep up, but with the aid of the Lord, who always strengthens and prepares the back for the burden, we were enabled to do our duty, and speak a few words of comfort to the poor soldiers who were away from 229 230 OUR ARMY NURSES. home and friends. "We were glad to see our boys come back from their furlough, and to think they remembered to bring us some tokens of love from mother or sister. We shall always remember the kindness of the soldiers. Doctor Green, an especial friend of ours, was put in assistant surgeon, and he often came for my little girl to go with him to see the patients; he would laugh and say she did them as much good as he did. I was there during the battle of I^ashville. Can- non were placed within one hundred yards of our building. I saw men bayonetted from the breast- works. The cannonading was so heavy it shook the building. There I beheld all the horrors of war, and after the battle, the sad sight of the ambulances coming in with their fearful loads. With almost breaking hearts our hands Avere still busy caring for the wounded. I met two soldier girls who had donned the blue. One, Frances Hook, alias Harry Miller, served two years and nine months ; the other was called Anna. She was put under our charge until the military authorities could send her North. I left the service in February, 1865. Yours truly, Martha A. Baker. RUSHVILLE, Mo. 232 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. EMMA FRENCH-SACKETT. ' ®T AYING a desire to minister to the needs of ^ our suffering soldiers, I went from Denmark, ^ Iowa, to Chicago, in company with Mrs. Col- ' ^ ton, and reported to Mrs. Livermore, not knowing whether we should be sent to the front amid the battlefields, or where our lot would be cast. February 1, 1864, we were sent to Jefferson ville General Hospital, where I was assigned to Ward 18, which was crowded with sick and wounded, so there was no lack of work to do. And although sad the office we performed, our hearts were filled with pleasure in the work we were doing. It was ours to minister to the wants of mind and body; and when the poor soldier boy had breathed his last, to write to his parents, wife or sister, telling of his last hours, and giving the messages for loved ones at home. And as we folded the letter inclosing a lock of the dear one's hair, we prayed that the white-winged messenger might break the news gently. In this way an interesting correspondence has been con- tinued with those whom I have never seen, as they cling to every item, and long for more incidents of their dead. I i-emember one boy, only fifteen years of age, who had his arm amputated. Gangrene set in, and he had to endure another amputation; then death relieved him of his suffering. Poor boy ! You little 233 234 OUR ARMY NURSES. knew what was in store for you when you enlisted. And poor mother ! Your fondest hopes were blasted. Another brave soldier from Minnesota had left one leg on the battlefield, and lay upon his cot day after day, mourning for home and loved ones, until his life went out. A pale-faced lad, shot through one lung, lay 'twixt life and death for a long time, then rallied, and the last I knew he was still alive. One day a letter was brought to our ward for a former patient, who had been transferred to the gangrene ward. I carried it to him, and when his name was called he responded with uplifted hand, while the tears ran down his cheeks, so glad was he to get a word from home. How bitter was the disappointment of a sister who came to the hospital to see her brother, only to learn that he had been transferred to Cincinnati, and that she must continue her search. So one after another these incidents crowd upon the memory. Sad were the scenes when friends came to see their loved ones, to find that those they were seeking had been buried a few days before. On the morning of the 15th of April, when we beheld the stars and stripes at half-mast, and the words " Lincoln is dead," passed from lip to lip, all was hushed. The stillness of death prevailed, and we questioned, "What next?" for it seemed a ter- rible crisis. A few of the boys made disloyal remarks, and the guardhouse was the penalty. As the war neared its close colored men were OUR ARMY NURSES. 235 brought to do guard duty, and we held a freedman's school for a few hours each day in a chapel near. So eager were they to learn, that it was a pleasure to teach them. Our last work was filling out discharge papers for the soldiers, who were eager to get home, now that the war was over; and therefore when they were given that work, soon hunted up their own papers and were at liberty, leaving Uncle Sam to find new clerks, which he did among the army nurses. Our services were appreciated by those among whom we labored, as testimonials held by more than one of my colaborers would prove. One day upon entering my ward I was halted, but instead of being confronted by sword or bayonet, a purse was put into my hand, accompanied by a nicely-worded address, as a token of the regard and gratitude of my patients. The original address is treasured among my keepsakes. I was always treated with respect and kindness while in the service, and those to whom I ministered seemed to me more like brothers than strangers. I went by the authority of Miss Dix, and served under Miss Buckel for nearly eight months, then received my discharge Sept. 23, 1865, and returned to my Iowa home, having no regrets that I had been an army nurse. Yours in F., C. and L., Mks. Emma French-Sackett. Middle River, Iowa. 236 OUR ARMY NURSES. SARAH K. CLARK, ARMY NURSE. Winona, Minn. 238 OUR ARMY NURSES. JANE E. DUNBAR. JSERYED in a hospital on an island in ^ew York Harbor about four months. Mr. Church was the steward, and Doctor Smith the surgeon in charge. I had received a letter from the steward saying that my husband was very sick, and in response to my inquiry received a dispatch to go at once. I reached the hospital the first of August, 1864, and as there were about eight hundred soldiers there I found plenty of work to do. When I had been there about a month the surgeon requested me to cook the extra diet for the sickest men, and I con- tinued that work three months. The woman who did it before I went there had forty dollars a month. I was not paid, and I boarded myself until my money gave out, then I drew rations with the rest. I think I never worked so hard in my life. At length the hospital was needed for the city poor, so the soldiers were removed to McDougal Hospital; and as I was not needed there, I re- turned to my home. This was in December; so when I applied for a pension I found that I lacked two months of the required time of service. While I was in the hospital a band of ladies came every week to bring dainties for me to distribute among the sick ones. At the time the Southerners undertook to burn some of the buildings in the city 240 OUR ARMY NURSES. of IS^ew York, two women came to examine our hos- pital, but thought they could not burn it very readily. Two of the soldiers who heard them talk- ing followed them to the city and had them arrested. There was a great deal to do, and I had to go up and down three or four flights of stairs constantly ; but it was hard to leave, too. When I first went there the soldiers asked me if I was going to stay; and when I said I would, some of them cried. It looked very hard to see so many sick and wounded. I am now sixty-five years old, and broken down, but am still al)le to be around a part of the time. Yours in F., C. and L., Jaiste E. Dunbar. Sparta, Wis. 242 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY A. ST1NEBAUGH-3RADFORD. J WAS born in Gallon, Ohio. My mother's health was poor, and at an early age I was her trnsted nurse and overseer of the children, and preferred this loving service to play. I attended school at Gallon, Oberlin, and Cleveland, Ohio, and was a student at Oberlin College when the war broke out. We were not blind to the fact that blood must be shed. One of the professors and two students had already been Imprisoned at Harper's Ferry. Many of the students had friends in the Kansas and Missouri troubles, and we were all wide awake. My brother, George Stinebaugh, then only twenty- one years of age, while on his way home from Kansas, stopped in Illinois and enlisted. He was wounded at Shiloh, and left on the field until our men retook it; then was sent to Mound City Hos- jDital, Cairo, 111. We received a letter telling us that he had lost a liml), and asking me to go and nurse him. My father thought this unsafe, and so he started, but was not allowed to pass the lines. Later came the news of his death. More than a year passed. I expected soon to begin to teach in a Ladies' Seminary, when an invitation came to go South, under the leadership of Rev. S. G. Wright, who had been a missionary among the 244 OUR ARMY NURSES. Indians for twenty years. After a sleepless night spent in prayer I was ready to give np my chosen work, feeling that I conld teach after all this was over, if I lived to retnrn. My father objected to my going, but I said, "You have given your boys to die for their country; now you can give your girls to nurse them.*" My aunt came Avhile I was packing my trunk. "Oh!" she said, "they have all gone! The last one has enlisted, my five dear sons and my son-in- law. I have packed the satchels for six. I could not stay at home, and have walked three miles to see you and forget ! " " Yes," my mother replied ; "all our boys have gone, too, and Mary Ann is going!" Then the brave Spartan mothers tried to forget their anxiety while packing my trunk. The youngest son soon returned, one limb shot off; his cousin, without his right arm; and some never returned. Father said : " Mother, can't we send some butter and fruit? They will need it." Soon forty pounds of butter and half a barrel of dried fruit was ready, together with bandages and other supplies. We took the boat at Cincinnati for Yicksburg, and stop})ed at Cairo, to see if I could find my brother's grave. We visited the hospitals at ^Memphis, and found everything in as good order as war would permit, the hospitals well supplied with women, both colored and white. Here I met a doctor, who said: "Did you not have a brother in Ward D, Mound City Hospital ? I see a striking resemblance." Ol'R AR3IV A'URSES. 245 I told hiiu that I did, and he replied: "Well, Madam, if yon had l)een there yon might have saved his life. I assisted in ampntating his leg, and he was doing well, nntil high water compelled ns to move the sick npstairs. The artery opened while they were moving him, and the attendant did not know enongh to pnt his thnmb on and stop the bleeding. When I reached him he was dead." We were assigned to Milliken's Bend, twenty miles above Vicksbnrg, where General Grant dng the canal, and where the mortality was so great. The army had been removed, leaving one company to guard the hospitals, containing the sick. The next day after onr arrival I was informed that I was chosen matron. Many of the men had chronic diseases, that seemed to baffle the skill of the most competent doctors ; yet the soldiers were hopef nl now that Union women had come to care for them. The men in charge were familiarly called the old and the yonng doctors; bnt their names the finger of Time has erased from my memory. We com- menced onr dnties with plenty of Government rations, a large brick oven, a negro baker, an Indian cook, and any amonnt of colored people asking for something to do. All went well nntil the old doctor sent an order for the sick to have only two meals a day. This did not meet my appro- bation, bnt what was I to do? I was only a volnn- teer; so, also, was the acting chaplain. The old doctor ontgeneraled ns for a time, for " a soldier's first dnty is obedience.'' The men complained, and at last we 246 OUR ARMY NURSES. thought of a phxn by which the Golden Kiile could be obeyed if only we could find trusty help. An old colored preacher, who came timidly every Saturday for help in preparing his sermon "fo' de bredren de J.iawd's day," assured us he could find " niggers 'nuf what could be trusted." So while the doctor was in his office, or taking his afternoon nap, the sick had their supper. Christmas Day the commander drew the soldiers up in front of the hosj^ital, and invited the chaplain and myself to address them. I congratulated the men on their temperate habits, emphasizing the advantage of such a course. In a few days the men rolled a great barrel up the hill from the boat. Could it be pork? Was it something nice for the sick? Ah! it was nothing less than Govern- ment Avhiskey. Drunkenness became so connnon that the officers were alarmed. I jDroposed a temperance pledge, and much good resulted. The small-pox hospital Avas only a mile down the river, and the disease was spreading rapidly. One day we saw some men with shovels hastily leaving a newly-made grave beside the road along which we Avere passing. "Whom have you buried there?" the doctor inquired. "Oh! a small-pox patient," was the reply. The doctor told me I was in dan- ger, and Avarned me to keep out of the I'oad. For- tunately I escaped the disease. The troops had been removed, and there were con- stant rumors of guerrillas, but Ave stood our ground. Northern people Avent on with the schools and calmed OUR ARMY NURSES. 247 the fears of the freedmen until shortly before Christ- mas. Then we saw the fire the outlaws had kin- dled to destroy ns. The connnander advised all who could do so to cross the river, and take refuge in the canebrake, or with a friendly family; the young doctor, with the help of the colored assistants, would care for the sick. While we were away a real blizzard came up, and large snowflakes filled the air. How frightened the children were! They had never seen snow before, and running into the house they tried to hide, and were terrified to see us go out and enjoy it. The third day we attempted to return, as Chaplain "Wright had planned a Christmas tree; but when our little boat got into the current, the gale was so strong that it was impossible to cross the bois- terous river, and we were dashed back to shore. Another lady and I jumped overboard and waded to land; the others follov.ed. When the sun went down we crossed safely. All was quiet for some time ; then came a lady on horseback with her husband and brothers. They had been attacked by the guerrillas, who killed one man, and swore that they would make a raid on Milliken's Bend the next night, and the "Yanks would lose their heads, women first." Again we fled, as we were assui*ed that they would not harm the sick. We were none too soon in taking the road to Yicksburg. As we passed the graveyard, where about two thousand of Grant's men now slept, the fire met us, and the chaplain pointed to a hickory •2 is OUR ARMY NURSES. tree, near which a vohime of fire and smoke was issuing from the ground. He tokl us it was buried cotton burning. We found Vicksburg overrun with troops, and fasted one day, if never before. I had suggested taking a box of hard-taek with us, but every one assured me we should l)e supphed. ]^ot so. "Where are you from?'' demanded the officer. "Milhken's Bend,""' "Well, you have draAvn your rations;" and not a loaf of bread could be bought. One of our number had some tea and a few hard- tacks, and these she divided for our breakfast. We found a vacant room, and rested until the next morn- ing. Before daylight we sent to the bakery, but the soldiers had been there first. They promised to have some bread soon, and we anticipated what a break- fast we should have, with some lovely hot bread and a few dried fish. But, oh, that miserable baker! I wondered if the soldiers met the same fate. The bread was not baked an inch deep. We had a good laugh ; then toasted it on a stick before the grate. We learned that help was needed at JS^atchez, and were soon on oin* way, passing the plantation of Jefferson Davis, and other places of interest. We often saw bands of guerrillas at a distance, but were not molested. The prejudice against IS^ortherners was great in that city. The fort and white tents were seen in the distance, but where were our men? We had a letter of introduction to IVIr. Wallace, and but for that Ave should not soon have found out anything. We learned that thei-e was not a female OUR ARMY NURSES. 249 nurse in hospital or camp, and that there was much suffering-, and need of workers. So the labor was divided. Some were to look after Union women and children whose husbands and fathers had gone into our army, been robbed of their all, and left to die; others were to teach the freedmen, others to care for the sick. A confiscated mansion was turned over to us, with the injmiction to be no "respecter of persons," but to welcome all who came, "in the name of the God of the universe." It was here that Mr. Wright's experience and sagacity, acquired in the Indian service, became of great value. He soon canvassed the entire field, and reported the condition, and Miss Henry and I offered to nurse in the Marine Hospital. The doctor coolly informed ns that they were not in need of female nurses, but that there was a hospital for colored women, and we might be of service there. Heavy- hearted we returned to the city, to await further developments. Soon we decided to visit the wards after the doctors had made their morning calls. How glad I was of this opportunity to give an encouraging Avoixl, to soften a pillow, or f\in a fevered brow. One day I noticed that the men were watcliing us very closely. Finally one asked, "Are yon not a [N^orthern woman?" "Why, to be sure I am." "Do you have the papers? Where are they fight- ing? We should so like to see a paper," I told him he was too sick to read ; he said, " But you can read to us, and if you are a ^N^orthern woman you can 250 OUR ARMY NURSES. write home/' Oh! what an avalanche of questions followed ; but I took no step until I had spoken to the chief attendant. In the spring of 1864, Rev. Mr. Brown and hidy, he seventy years of age and she sixty-five, estab- lished a branch of the Christian Commission within the foi't. As I did not always have the company of a lady, I thought it wise to call and take Mother Brown with me. She was a mother not only to me, but also to the boys in blue. Her presence made my work much easier. One Sabbath morning in the spring of 1864 eveiything was quiet. Soldiers and citizens Avere attending church. The gunboat had dropped down the river a mile; the fort was a mile above the landing, and Camp 70, U. S., col- ored, still a mile beyond. Suddenly we heard firing, and the answer. The church was soon emptied, and all was excitement. The Southerners ran to their homes or places of safety, the JSTorthern people to the blulF overlooking the river. We could see the Confederates on the edge of the timber, about a mile away. They were commanded by a dashing German general, who rode a white horse, and wore a large white plume. They had attempted to cross the river and take our com- missary stores in Natchez, under the hill. All our men were gone but some new recruits, and they were ex-slaves. Would they fight, or would they cower at the sight of their old masters? See! see! How they rush forward, hardly waiting for orders! They do better than the guns that fire on OUR ARMY NURSES. 251 the enemy from tlie boat. In two honrs they are cMven from the field, leaving their dead and wonnded. Three rebel ofiicers were brong'ht to onr hospital to be cared for. In a few weeks they were able to be in the sitting-room. Our men eagerly read the papers, but they shook their heads. "Gentlemen," I said, "have you been well treated here?" " Yery well," was the reply. "Don't you think you were on the wrong side?" "We do not wish to talk of this matter with a Union lady." " Yet I have a request to make of you," I answered. "When our uien fall into your hands, will you not use your influence to have them treated as well as you have been? " The sultry days came, and every time I entered the w^ard I w ould miss a cot here and there. At last it was deemed best for us to take a furlough. Our trunks w^ere packed, and the boats would be up the river the next day; when, oh, dreadful news! Two boatloads of soldiers would soon arrive. We hast- ened to the Marine Hospital, but one load was there before us; every wai*d was filled, and they were laying them on the verandas, those dying, blood- stained men, and there were one hundred and fifty more to arrive. "And is this war?" we questioned. Oh, horrible sight! I could not bear it. When the other boat arrived the men w^ere stored in a rude building on a bluff overlooking the river. Soon we leai-ned that the men were suffering for food and clothing. I procured a basket full of needed articles, and on my Avay saw an old colored woman 252 OUR ARMY NURSES. coming out of her shanty. She asked if I was going to see the Union soldiers, and said : ""^ I's gwine, too. My ole man says they's starvin', an' I's takin' 'em some dinner." Then she lifted the snowy cloth, and I saw beefsteak, butter, warm bread, and vegetables. I feared the doctor's frowns, but many of the men relished just such a dinner. As Ave wf^lked toward home I said: "Aunty, how can you afford this? Butter is fifty cents a pound, and beefsteak but little less." " Yo' see, honey, I does washens, an' de ole man gets jobs, an' us is free." I must tell you how I came to adopt beautiful twin boys. I had often heard of them, and how un- like other colored children they were. One night I dreamed I was going alone to see the sick, when I discovered that I was two. I let my parasol fall, and my other self quickly dismounted and handed it to me. AYhat could it mean? On my way to the hos- pital the next time, while talking to their teacher, the boys came up, and one touched my arm, then ran away, frightened. We reassured them, and finally they returned and said : " Aunty is going to die, and uncle is in the army. He marched by yesterday, and we ran after him to tell him aunty is sick, but he did not stop, and we cried. Please, ma'am, won't you take us to live with your father?" I went with them to see their aunt. On the way I dropped my parasol. One of the boys picked it up; the other said, "I will tote it for you." There was my dream, and I saw my duty. Their father Avas the son of a judge in Tennessee, and was treated as a son until he OUR ARMY NURSES. 253 was seventeen years of age. Then he wished to go to school with his half brothers, and this enraged their mother, who said : ^^ Yon are a negro. You cannot learn." ^' Have I not learned as nnich as my brothers, and do I not stay in the office with fjither?" he cried. In a short time he went, unsuspectingly, with a stranger on an errand, as he supposed; but he never saw his home again. As I passed to and fro, I often noticed a little yellow girl perched ujDon a fence. One day I said, "See here, little Topsy, do you know you are free?" " IN^o, missy." " Well, you are, and there is a school at the Baptist Church for you. JN^ow go and tell your mistress to send you there, or she will lose you." The next day she was at the same place watching the " Yanks." " Why are you not at school?" "^My missy say you ^Yanks' better go home an' let our city 'lone, or de break-bone fever will cotch yo'." Thus the work went on, with many interi'uptions and drawbacks, for about a year, while we did what we could for both patients and freedmen. Then I returned to my home. Mary A. STEsrEBAuGH-BRADroRD. Miller, South Dakota. 254 OUR ARMY NURSES. \ ..Tn MISS MARY VENARD. JWE^N'T out under Governor Morton\s first call for nurses, commissioned by Mr. Ilannaman, Sanitary Agent for the State of Indiana. This was Feb. 4, 1863. I was then forty-one years of age. I was first sent to ]N^ashville, Tenn., fi3r three months, but stayed six. Was in the Howard High School Building, and had charge of the Diet Kitchen, but at the same time I did a great deal of nursing. As a compliment to my cooking I received a very beautiful and practical cook-book, which I never felt that I deserved. From JSTashville I returned to my home, where 1 remained ten weeks ; then received strict orders to go immediately to Natchez, Miss. I was in the Marine Hospital, and the fort was built up around us. This was the fall after the siege of Yicksburg, and for days and days we expected to be attacked, and had everything in readiness to be removed at a moment's notice. General Thomas came down the river with his regiment, and sent out his soldiers to reconnoiter, and that stopped it. The surgeon in charge pro- posed that if we wei-e attacked, I should leave imme- diately with him in the ambulance. His very kind offer I declined, telling him if I had to leave, it would be at the last moment; then I would run down the hill, and, if necessary, defend myself. 255 256 OUR ARMY NURSES. I was at IS^atchez one j^ear and six months; then returned to my home, but received a telegram the next day calling me to Indianapolis, Ind. There I took charge of the Kefugee Home, that was jointly conducted by the Sanitary Commission and citizens, and had the name of being one of the best houses on the line. When warm weather came we secured homes for those who wished to stay; others were sent Avherever they wanted to go. This home was closed immediately after the assassination of Pi-esi- dent Lincoln. I next went to the Ladies' Home in Indianapolis, and remained until fall, when I went to Cam}) Morton, to help close that. In three months more, the war being over, I was honorably discharged by Mr. Hannaman, and returned to my home in Terre Haute, where I have lived ever since. I receive twelve dollars a month pension, and this is very acceptable, as I am not able to do much work. Two years ago I received from [N'ational Headquarters of the W. R. C. a beautiful nurse's certificate, which I api)reciate very much. I am a member of John P. Baird Corps. Christmas Eve a number of members of Morton Post, G. A. R., called at my home in a body, and the commander, in a very nice speech, presented the pin I have on in the picture. It was an honor of which I am justly proud. During my sei'vice as army nurse I received from my patients many tokens of friendship and esteem, among them three pieces of poetry, one thanking me OUR ARMY NURSES. 257 for a bouquet of rare wild flowers I had gathered on the bluffs. The followiug is a part of another: — TO A STRANGER. " Your generous acts and noble deeds, Like fragrant flowers 'midst noxious weeds, Have won my admiration : Your care for one who's far away From those who for his safety pi'ay. Inspires my veneration. " Like angel visits, deeds so rare Awake our inmost, earnest prayer For blessings on the stranger ; And oft we breathe the prayer of love To Him who reigns in heaven above, To shield you from all danger. "And though, perhaps, we ne'er shall meet Till summoned to the Mercy Seat, Your image I will cherish. Amid the memories of my heart. Sweet thoughts of you will share a part, Till earthly dreams shall perish." Miss Mary Yenard. 6733^ Wabash Avk., Tkrke Haute, Ind. 258 OUR ARMY NURSES. /m '^: MRS. ELIZABETH THOMPSON. JE:N^LISTED at Plattsburg, :N'. Y., under Cap- tain Moore, and served under him for three months at Sackett's Harbor, where I was the first matron, having my daughter with me as an assistant. Here we had to work very hard, cleaning the hospital as well as caring for the sick, and trying to make everything as homelike as possible under the circumstances. The beef and the bread were an especial trial. At last my husband, who was the hospital steward, told the doctor about it, and at his request a loaf of the bread was brought for the doctor to see. He stood looking at it for some time, then said, " Well, there will be more sick ones than there are at present if they have to eat such stuff." We told him we could make the bread if only we had the material; and in a short time a barrel of flour arrived. As I was sick my daughter made the bread. When the doctor came the next time he inquired how we managed, and my husband showed him a loaf. He looked very much pleased, and said, " Oh, we can get along nicely, now that we have that little baker." From that time we made the bread, in addition to our other duties. On leaving Sackett's Harbor we went to Fort Niagara for three • months, making in all six months of service; then, the war being ended, we were discharged. Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson. Vilas Home. Pi.attsburg, N. Y. 260 OUR ARI\iy NURSES. HANNAH L. PALMER. Fl T^A^XAH LATHROP PALMER was bom in Peterboro, Madison County, ]S^. Y., Jan. 28, 1827. Her father was a lawyer, a man of fine ^-^ education and abilities, conscientious and up- right in his life and business relations; often fill- ing positions of high public trust and responsibility. The mother was of the Eastern family of Lathrop, and affectionately seconded all her husljand\s plans for the education and welfare of their three daughters, of whom the subject of this sketch was the eldest. In this family the principles of civil and religious liberty, and the practice of advanced thinking and living, were paramount, the father finding his place among the original Aljolitionists, and taking his share of the obloquy and suspicion which fell to the lot of those who advocated the then unpo^mlar principles of human equality and brotherhood. For nearly his lifetime he was associated with Gerrit Smith in the work of the ^"^ Underground Railroad," as a tempei-ance worker, a neighbor, and friend. He died at the age of fifty-six years, leav- ing to the mother and eldest daughter the care of his property and family. Miss Palmer's jjrofession was that of teacher, and she spent many years in higher-grade schools, finally carrying on for five years a boarding and day school of her own in Canastota, where she still resides. 262 OUR ARMY NURSES. At the oj:)^!!!!^ of the war her school was closed, as were many others ; and feeling sure from the logic of events, the records of history, and the current political indications, that the death-knell of slavery was about to sound, she went heart and soul into the work of helping on, were it in ever so humble a way, the giant task before the nation of casting off its bonds, and making itself free indeed before all the peoples of the earth. At once she commenced collecting money and supplies, serving as secretary and treasurer of the Soldiers' Aid Society in her own town, and as soon as the Sanitary Commission was organized, sending to it whatever was collected, for more than two years. After the Proclamation of Emancipation and the virtual overthrow of slavery, Miss Palmer shared in the joy of those who saw a brighter future for the dear native land; and though that land was still overshadowed by the dark cloud of war, she never doubted the final result. But the cry of the prisoner was ever sounding, and the sufferings of the wounded were ever before her, and she felt she must give more efficient aid in the great struggle. More nurses were called for, and a correspondence was opened with Miss Dix, which resulted in the acceptance of Miss Palmer's services; and Miss Dix, in her usual energetic manner, hastened her depart- ure, writing, " I already have five good Miss Palmers in the service, and think you will make the sixth." Leaving her widowed mother in the care of friends, OUR ARMY NURSES. 263 she reached the residence of Miss Dix kite on a dark night in the middle of April, 1864, and was kindly received by the honsekeeper, who said: "Miss Dix has gone on business to the surgeon-general's, but will soon return. She has been looking for yon all day." Soon Miss Dix came in with cordial greetings, saying : " I am really glad you have come ; we need help very much. AVe shall soon have severe fight- ing." !N"ext morning after breakfast that noble woman attended prayers, beseeching earnestly that the terrible war-cloud might be lifted from the nation; that all who Avere working in the great cause of freedom might stand firm for the right; and that the one who had just come to help in the work might be aided and strengthened to do good service. It was like a benediction, serving as an inspiration, and fixing more firmly a determination to do all possible, in the midst of perils, to relieve the suffering and save the lives of our brave soldiers. Miss Palmer was sent at once to Columbia College Hospital; Thomas R. Crosby, surgeon in charge. All nurses going there held themselves in readiness to go wherever help might be needed. For a few days there was little to do, as nearly all the patients were convalescent; and in this interval of leisure, newcomers were directed to look about town, and visit the public buildings, sometimes helping to repair hospital garments, in anticipation of the great battle all knew was coming. Miss Palmer was retained in service here, and writes : " I had a great dread of seeing suiFering, and early in May, after we knew 264 OCJJ^ AR3rV NURSES. that fighting had coniinenced, and the battle of the Wilderness was in progress, I could not sleep, but often sat for houi-s in the deep windows of my room, during the night, listening for the coming of the ambulances bringing the wounded. " At length on one bright day they came, — eight hundred men, — some able to walk from the steamer upon which they had been brought up the Poto- mac; some wei-e taken from the ambulances already dead, others bleeding and nearly exhausted. When the work was once before me I felt no more dread, but with a grateful heart that 1 was permitted to enter this service, I henceforth wished no rest nor ease." Many of the wounds made at the battle of the Wilderness were of a very painful nature ; the balls often striking against trees, and becoming flattened, glanced, and then, entering the flesh, tore their way with ragged edges, sometimes leaving in the Avounds bits of bark or moss. And how tired the poor fellows wei'e ! Days and nights of weary marching with the excitement and wounds of battle, or severe sickness, had left many nearly bereft of strength and life. At this time a large number of wall tents were being erected on the college campus, and as soon as they were in readiness Miss Palmer was placed in charge of the Seventh AVard, consisting of twelve tents, each containing ten patients. Mrs. Blanchard, of Syracuse, her roommate and co-workei*, had been sent to the front with several others of long experience. OUR ARMY NURSES. 265 From the battlefield of ]S^orth Anna, in the latter ])art of May, and that of Cold Harbor, June 1st to 12th, many wounded were received. The heat having become intense, and the flies and other insects numerous, it was very difficult to make the sick and wounded comfortable. Those who had been lonofest in the service said it was the most fearful summer the}' had seen. About July 10th occurred " Early's Raid in Mary- land," and for several days it was feared that the enemy would take Washington. Every hospital turned out all its convalescents who were able to march; and the home guards, marines, department clerks, and citizens hastened to the front in defense of the city, and to the aid of the 6th and 2d Divisions of the 19th Army Corps. Fort Stevens was then attacked, and one night the danger was so imminent that Mr. Lincoln, who was with his family at his summer residence near the Soldiers' Home, Avas brought by his escort into the city for safety. Upon llth Street for days there was constant marching of troops, and passing of artilleiy and amlmlances. The women of this hos- pital filled the haversacks of their boys with every thing needful, and three hundred convalescents were sent to the front. Then with anxious hearts they listened to the booming of the guns; watching by night from the cupola of the college the camp-fires of the op})osing forces, and by day the signaling with flags at the forts. A week after the battle, eight of the ladv nurses were taken in an ambulance to the 266 OUR ARMY NURSES. battlefield, which presented a scene of desolation indescribable. Rifle-pits had been dug along the roadsides, and dozens of chimneys were standing solitary, where once had been happy homes, — their gardens desolated, and vines trailing in the dust. Among the residences burned was that of Postmaster- General Blair. Several fathers, mothers, and friends were on the field, with ambulances or carriages, looking among the half-buried bodies for the remains of husband or son. The weary sunnner passed in hard work, and anxiety for the sufferers in charge, and with waver- ing hopes for the country, as the tide of war surged onward. Many poor fellows, too badly wounded to live, passed from earth to their reward, as martyrs to their love of country ; and often sorrowing friends came to bear away the remains of their beloved dead. There were many very painful and impressive scenes, but there was no time to stop and think. The sound of the " Dead March " seemed to be ever in the air as those who had passed away were taken to their resting places in Arlington. And as some j^oor fellow in his delirium, or in the weakness of his last hour, reached to take the hand of the nurse, with the cry, ^^ Oh, mother, mother ! " she felt that it was indeed a great privilege to be per- mitted to minister to those noble defenders of the flag and of "the dear native land," in their suffer- uig and last agony. In October a large number of sick pien were OUR ARMY NURSES. 267 brought from the 19th Corps, one division of which had been for a long time detained in a malarious region in Texas; the Seventh Ward receiving among them a case of small-pox, but it was discovered before there was danger of con- tagion. In November, all the men able to travel were allowed to go to their homes to vote, it being the time of the re-election of President Lincoln. Great enthusiasm prevailed, and the prospects of the country seemed to brighten. Thanksgiving Day was a joyful one for "the boys." Seventy-five turkeys had been sent from Massachusetts, and were prepared with the usual accompaniments for the great dinner. The unani- mous verdict was, "This seems like home," with " Three cheers for Massachusetts ! " On Christmas Day several visitors came in, some bringing flowers; the Sanitary Commission furnish- ing for the men, as they often had done before, sup- lies of pipes and tobacco, socks, mittens, fruits, stationery, etc. On ^ew Year's Day, 1865, several of the nurses found time to attend Mr. Lincoln's usual reception at the White House, which always was a very popu- lar occasion. In the evening an entertainment was given by the nurses to " the boys," which had been for several days in course of preparation, — consist- ing of recitations, speeches, pantomimes, etc., inter- spersed with music. About January 15th, Miss Palmer received a mes- 268 OUR ARMY NURSES. sage calling her home for a time; and as there was little work to be done just then at the hospital, Miss Dix gave lier leave of absence, stipnhiting that if there shonld be more fighting, and help needed, she should return. Taking an affectionate leave of her "boys," and the lady friends with whom she had been so long- associated, she took, as it proved, a final leave of hospital life, having served there nine months. In 1883, Miss Palmer was elected an honorary member of Keese Post, No. 49, G. A. P., Canastota, ]^. Y., and in 1891 was granted a special pension of twelve dollars per month. She helped to organize Peese Pelief Corps, ]S'o. 77, in Se]3tember, 1892 ; was one of its charter members, and has been three times re-elected president, which office she now holds. Looking back from this year (1895) upon those dark days of war, she can but be grateful for the happy and honorable ending of the strife, and for the past prosperity of the country, feeling sure that " righteousness exalteth a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people." Her address is Hannah L. Palmer. Canastota, N. Y. 270 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY M. RRIGGS. ^nnpY grandfather was with "Washington at Valley If I Forge, and through the entire war. My father f ^ was a "■' Connecticut Yankee," so we children ■^^^ received many lessons on patriotism, and it is no wonder that when our beloved land was threatened, my three brothers enlisted at once in her defense, as did my husband, also, and I applied at once to Miss Dix for a connnission as nurse. It was granted June 19, 1861, and in August I was summoned to St. Louis to my work. I was then a resident of Madi- son, Wis., and was the first enlisted nurse from that State, under James Yeatman, president of the Sani- tary Commission. I was assigned to duty at the Good Samaritan Hospital, where I cared for the brave boys, to the best of my ability, until I was sent to fronton, Mo., in 1862. From thei-e I went to Ilai-vey Hospital, Madison, Wis., in 1863, where I remained until the close of the war. Among the greatest comforts of my declining years is the love I feel for my native land; the knowledge that I was counted worthy to aid, if ever so little, in the effort to preserve it, and in teaching my gi-andchildren and others lessons of patriotism. My dear husband readied home, but only to die in 1866. Two of my brothers have passed over before me; one from severe wounds received at Atlanta, 272 OUR ARMY NURSES. Ga., the other from his sufferings in Andersonville. Thank God I have hved to see slaver}^ al)olished, and our hmd free indeed, ^ow I am waiting the summons to join my loved ones in that land where war is unknown. I am an invalid, and seventy-four years of age. I cannot say very much for myself, but this is all that needs to be said, — I tried to do my duty. Maky M. Briggs. 720 St. Chakles St., Elcix III. 274 OUR ARMY NURSES. LAURAETTA C. BALCH. AYEKT alone fi-om Boston to Fort Schuyler, K Y., Oct. 18, 1862, and was the first lady nurse on the ground. Everything was in a very rough condition, — just thrown together. The barracks were a shelter for the sick and wounded, and that was about all. There were thirty- two wards, with fifty-two beds in each. Miss "Williams, or Sister Nettie "Williams, as we called her, was at the head of the department. She Avas a Boston lady, who did good service, devoting time and money to our soldiers. I have regretted that I did not keep a diar}^, as I have forgotten many who I should be glad to remember. But they were constantly coming and going, and those were busy times; still, I recall many of the nurses, who were beautiful and devoted characters. As a rule my " boys " were a happy set of sufferers, more especially those who could get about on their crutches ; and in their efforts to be cheerful and help others pass the weary hours, they often seemed to forget their own suffering. I remained in that hospital during the fifteen months of m}^ service, going from ward to ward where there was the most to be done. I returned to Boston in January, 1864. Lauraetta C. Balch. Lowell, Mass. 27G OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY A. ELLIS. J ASSISTED my husband to raise a regiment, the 1st Missouri Vohmteer Cavahy, of which he was made colonel, with the understanding that I should accompany him to the field, which I did ; going in my own carriage, and taking with me a colored man and woman. I carried my own tent, and everything I needed, so that I was no expense to the Government. The regiment went into camp at St. Louis the 1st of August, 1861. Soon the measles broke out, and I began my services as nurse there, and continued them until after the battle of Pea Ridge, March, 1862. In camp, on the march, or in the hospital, — when we had one, — there was no part of the work of a nurse that I did not do, even to assisting in sur- gical operations, particularly at the battle of Pea Ridge, where I stood at the surgeon's table, not one or two, but many hours, with the hot blood steaming into my face, until nature rebelled against such horrible sights and I fainted, but as soon as possible I returned. Our regiment was in the cavalry charge at Sugar Creek, and many of our men were killed and wounded. I was there with my carriage on the field, and brought in the first wounded to the house that was made to do duty for a hospital, and continued to care for the needy until Api'il, 1862. Once in October, 1861, one of our oflftcers was left 277 278 OUR ARMY NURSES. with the rebels, and was very sick. It was at the close of a hard day's march, and his captain came to me to know what could be done. I went on horse- back alone, with the determination to find him, and care for him, if possible, and had the pleasure of being* the means of saving his life. In ^November the regiment surgeon gave a sick man an overdose of narcotics, and I found him lying by the wayside. I took him into my carriage, and sent to the front for his captain. As soon as possible I got him into a house, and laid him on the floor, where to all appearances the man died. I heard the doctor explaining why he died, but I coidd not be- lieve that life was extinct. I tried to revive him, the doctors meanwhile making light of my efforts. Soon the man caught his breath, with a convulsive movement, while the five doctors turned and left the room. The captain and I soon bad him all right,, and in two weeks he reported for duty, and served until the close ' of the war. This act called down on my poor head the bitter enmity of the doctor; and, later, when he was either dismissed or court-mar- tialed, he blamed me for it, though unjustly. The affair was no secret ; hundreds knew what the doctor had done, and that I saved the man. Some time near the middle of October, 1861, it was my privilege to carry an important dispatch from G-eneral Hunter to General Price. The guerrillas and bushwhackers were so plentiful that the cars on the ^N^orthern Missouri Railroad could not run. The telegraph lines wxre all cut off, and any Union OUR ARMY NURSES. 279 soldier or stranger unlucky enough to be canght beyond the camp was shot immediately. I received the dispatch from General Hunter at 9 A. M., and placed it in the hands of General Price, at Jefferson City, at 5 p. m. the same day, having ridden forty miles. By request of the chief of the Goverment Detect- ive Force I acted as detective. At last I was taken sick, and was carried to St. Louis. It was two months before I was able to stand, and I did not recover sufficiently to return to camp. I was not mustered in, or appointed by any one. My service was entirely voluntary, and I have never received any pay. On the contrary, I spent thousands of dollars in raising the regiment and caring for the sick. It would be useless for me to attempt to write an extended account of my experiences. It would only stir up memories of a pleasant home with my husband and son. I had but this one child, and I willingly gave him to my country's service ; she sent him back to me crippled and maimed for life. Two years ago he went to join the great army on the shores of eternity ; and oh ! I want to go to him, — and as I am quite old, it must be soon. I am a physician, but my work is done ; I am not able to leave my room. Yours respectfully, Mary A. Ellis. 1025 West Washington Street, Indianapolis, Ind. 280 OUR ARMY NURSES. LOUISA C. KAMP. J IS" response to a call for nurses to go South, to care for the sick and wounded, I volunteered, and sailed from New York somewhere between the 5th and the 10th of March, 1863, under orders to report at Hilton Head, S. C; but upon my arrival I was sent to Beaufort, where a place was assigned me in a hospital, under Surgeon Merritt at first, then under Surgeon Hayden, who took his place. After serving there until the last of August I became very sick with malaria, and returned home on a furlough, intending to resume the work soon ; but I did not recover sufficiently to do so. Louisa C. Ivamp. Merrimacport, Mass. 281 282 OUR ARMY NURSES. M. P. FELCH. )MA:N^DA M. COLBURIS^ was boin in West Glover, Yermont, l^ov. 12, 1833, Her father was a fanner in moderate circumstances, and having only one boy, a share in the out-door work was often given to Amanda. This early train- ing proved of inestimable value to her in later years, when a large reserve of physical strength was so necessary to enable her to endure, with comparative ease, the long marches where hundreds of men were overcome ; as during the Peninsular, Gettysburg, and other campaigns. At about twenty-three years of age she was first married, and it was as Mrs. Farn- ham that she became so well known in the Army of the Potomac. In the summer of 1861, left alone with her little boy and in poor health, she returned to the old home to find the family in great trouble. Henry, her brother, had enlisted in the 3d Yermont Pegiment, whereupon she left her child with her parents, and followed her brothei-; partly to relieve the great anxiety respecting the only son, partly from a desire to help in the struggle just at hand. En- listing at St. Johnsbury, about July 5, 1861, she was enrolled as a member of the 3d Yermont Regiment, and appointed hospital matron. They were mus- tered in July 11th, left the State on the 23d, arrived at Washington the 26th, and the next day went six 283 284 OUR ARMY NURSES. miles up the river to Camp Lyon, near Chain Bridge, on the Maryland side of the river, where they remained in camii till September 8th; then crossed into Virginia and fortified a hill, which was called Fort Smith, in honor of the colonel of the regiment. About this time something occurred that later became a theme for romance and poetry. Willie Scott, a private in Company K, 3d Vermont, was found sleeping at his post, tried, found guilty, and condemned to be executed, but at almost the last moment was pardoned by President Lincoln. Mrs. Farnham had known the boy from a child, and took a deep interest in his case. Seven months later at Lee's Mills, on the Peninsula, when he was shot, she assisted at his burial. During the fall and winter, sickness and death from disease assumed such alarming proportions that a special corps of noted physicians was sent to advise and aid the medical officers now in the field ; but the mortality was not checked until spring. During this period Mrs. Farnham worked almost constantly. In December, 1861, she was dropped from the rolls as matron of the 3d, for the Government would no longer recognize the position; but she still continued her work, and until the Wilderness campaign in 1864, occupied a different position than most female army nurses, as she did not do regular ward duty, but went from one regiment to another, wherever she was most needed. Day or night it made no difference, she always responded to the call, and would stay OUR ARMY NURSES. 285 until the crisis was passed, or death had reheved the patient of his suffering. But it was to the boys, like her brother, that her heart went out with greatest sympathy. Writing letters for such was a daily practice, and when there was no hope she would record the dying request, and take care of some keepsake to be sent to friends at home. Before a battle it became a common thing for soldiers, especially of the Vermont troops, to intrust her with money or other valuables for safe- keeping, until an event occurred after which she dared no longer accept the responsibility. During the battle of Chancellorsville she had an unusual amount of money, which she carried in a belt on her person, and other things of value in a hand bag. After getting into quarters on our side of the river she put up a tent, as it was raining, and, for the first time in several nights, took off the belt and put it with the bag on the ground under the mat- tress. Probably this was all seen in her shadow on the tent-cloth, by some one watching for that pur- pose. She had just fallen asleep when she became conscious that some one was trying to get in; but the flap strings had been drawn inside and tied tightly around the pole, so that plan was aban- doned, and the robber passed around the tent. Fully aroused, Mrs. Farnham now crept from the blankets, and finding her revolver, awaited results. Her first thought was to give an alarm, but she knew \ that the thief could easily escape in the darkness \ and return later. As no entrance could be found, 286 OUR ARMY NURSES. he cut a long slit in the tent, to reach through. Up to the time that the knife began its work she had not realized how serious was her situation; now she hesi- tated no longer, but, aiming as well as she could in the darkness, fired. An exclamation and the sound of hurried footsteps was all she heard. The next morning news came that one of the new recruits was sick, having been wounded by the " accidental dis- charge of a pistol in the hands of a chum," and. she did not ask to have the case investigated. In March, 1862, the command went to Fortress Monroe to enter upon the campaign of the Penin- sula, through which she marched with the troojDS, shared their hardships and fare, and was actually on the field at Lee's Mills, "Williamsburg, Golding's Farm, Savage Station, Glendale, and Malvern Hill, and in the " seven days " retreat from Richmond back to Harrison's Landing, where they remained till sent to Washington, in August. She not only walked in the rain from Malvern Hill to Harrison's Landing, through mud knee-deep, but also helped soldiers by the way. In August she went home with some sick and wounded soldiers, and did not return until the battle of Antietam. Arriving at Washington on Sunday the llth, and finding where the army was supposed to be, she tried to get a pass to the front that day, but failed. The next morning she went to Secretary Stanton herself, and received not only her pass, but also an order for an ambulance. She arrived at Antietam the afternoon of the 17th, and immediately went to work among the wounded of OUR ARMY NURSES. 287 French's Division, there peforming her first and only surgical operation. A soldier had been struck in the right breast by a partly spent ball, but with force enough to follow around the body under the skin, stopping just below the shoulder-blade. Taking the only implement she had, a pair of sharp button-hole scissors, and pinching the ball np with the thumb and finger, she made a slight incision and pressed the ball out. It was shortly after this, while at Hagerstown, that she met Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, and promised to do all she could to see that the supplies they sent were given to the most needy. The command remained here imtil the latter part of October, 1862, then started for "on to Richmond" for the third time. December 13th came Fredericksburg, with all its horrors; the Yermonters suffering severely, and Mrs. Farnham, who was stationed at the Bernard House, worked with the wounded without rest until getting back to the old camps at White Oak Church, where the win- ter passed very pleasantly. In May, 1863, the campaign opened with Chancel- lors ville, and the brigade lost nearly three hundred in killed and wounded, — Mrs. Farnham doing her usual efiicient work. Again the army had to retreat to its old camps, to remain until the march to Gettys- burg. When there, through the influence of Mrs. Baxter, she was permitted to keep a two-horse team, to take along supplies on the march. When in camp the boys could usually procure for themselves what they needed, but on the march they often suffered 288 OUR ARMY NURSES. severely. Such articles as shirts, socks, etc., coffee, sugar, condensed milk and canned goods, she carried, and gave where most needed. It was a weary march from the Rappahannock to Gettysbnrg, made more so by the night marches, always so trying. The last day they went thirty- four miles over a stone road, and under a burning sun. It is n(^w simply a matter of history that the Sixth Corps marched from ]Manchester to Gettsyburg from daylight until 4 o'clock p. m., and it was the greatest feat in marching ever accomplished by any troops under like conditions. Mrs. Farnham went with them, and most of the way on foot, giving up the spare room on her wagon to Avorn-out soldiers who could not find room in the crowded ambulances. A ride for an hour for one, and he could walk on again for a time, giving his place to another. Thus many moi'e were able to keep along than would have been without such help. Again, when she found a poor fellow with blistered feet, she gave him a pair of new socks to take the place of the holes, all that was left of his own. The stoiy of her work all night after such a day, has been told in print many times: how a guard was placed over a certain pump at the request of the ladies of the house, as they feared the well would go dry, and they be obliged to go to Rock Creek, a quai-ter of a mile distant, for water, — little caring how far the exhausted soldiers had to go. Bnt some of the boys, knowing Mrs. Farnham was near, got her to pmnp for them; and when complaint was made the guai-d said his orders OCR ARMY NURSES. 289 did not include women, so she could get all the water she wanted. In tliis work, and caring for the wounded of Sickles Corps, who filled all the barns and out- buildings on the place, she remained all night long. Few of the Sixth Corps were wounded at Gettys- burg, but she Avas busy among others, until the division left there. In following up Lee, and at Funkstown, the Vermont Brigade suffered severely. Among those killed was an old acquaintance, and she olitained permission to take his body and two others home. She was absent two weeks, joining the army near AVarrenton. From that time until Grant was preparing to make the final move against Richmond, she was quietly occupied with regular duties, and until May expected to go to the front Avith the troops as before; but Stanton ordered that ^' no women, no matter who they are," should be allowed in the army longer. A large petition pray- ing that she might go was presented, but he was obdurate, writing on the back, "Mrs. Farnham's request has the highest recommendations, but is incompatible with the public service." So ended all her preparations of the winter for the summer's campaign. Hardly three days of grace remained in which to dispose of her team and other personal property, and so it was at great personal loss that she left the army about the 1st of May, 1864. She was in Fredericksburg on the 9th, where twenty thou- sand Union troops were lying; and here, for about the first time, she was a regular army nurse, 290 OUR ARMY NURSES. appointed by Miss D. L. Dix. She so remained until discharged in June, 1865. She used to like to tell of her first interview with Miss Dix. From the time she entered the army, Mrs. Farnham had worn a dress similar to the ladies' cycling costume of the present, — full pants button- ing over the tops of her boots, skirts falling a little below the knee, and a jacket with tight sleeves. This dress she had on when she called to present her papers and request. Miss Dix glanced at the papers, then looked Mrs, Farnham over from head to foot, until the situation was becoming embarrassing. Finally she arose, saying: "Mrs. Farnham, the dress you wear is ahominahle., a most abomina])le dress, and I do not wish any of my nurses to dress in that manner; but you came highly recommended, and I have long known of your Avork, but I clidnH know you wore such a dress. However, you can Avear it if you choose." Then she Avrote an order for her to report at Fredericksburg. From that time until after the war closed she was one of Miss Dix's trusted nurses, and was charged with duties and commis- sions at the front that she would trust to no one else ; and though they met many times when Mrs. Farn- ham wore the same dress, it was not mentioned again. M. P. Felch. {^For his vv'fe Amanda, deceased.) Canox City, Colorado. 292 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY E. MOORE. J WAS a])pointcd hospital matron by Colonel Smith, of the 58th Regiment, Illinois "Volun- teers, in l^ovember, 1861, at Camp Douglas, Chicago, and served there until some time in February, when our regiment left for Cairo, 111.; then went to Fort Donaldson, Tenn., where I helped to care for the sick and wonnded during the battle, and afterwards on a hospital steamer. I next accom- panied a party of soldiers to Cairo, where I cared for them until all but one were able to leave the hospital. While at Fort Donaldson I have sometimes gone two or three days without any sleep, and with only an occasional cup of coiFee or some hard-tack, which I would eat as I Avent in and out among the sick. At one time all the sleep I had for three nights was on the bare floor, between my husband and a sick soldier, and with my husband's arm for a pillow. ^o one but the poor boys themselves can imagine as we nui'ses can what suffering they had to endure during the Kebellion. I recall one poor old colored man who had borne a great deal, having been shot several times. I took eighteen buckshot out of his back one day. I was in the hospitals something over nine months; then my husband died, and I returned to my home. Yours in F., C. and L., Mary E. Moore. King City, Mo. 294 OUR ARMY NURSES. LOIS H. DUNBAR. ^Y war record is one of hard lalior and severe trials. I went from Michigan City, Ind., to St. Louis, ]S^ov. 10, 1861. Doctor Hodges ^■^^ was the surgeon in charge. Tliere were one thousand patients; Mrs. Harriet Colefax and I having three hundred under our immediate charge most of the time, when the wounded were brought off the boats from Fort Donaldson. I thought we should never be able to do our duty by so many, but we worked as only women can; and my experience there is something I shall never forget. I picked my way among them as they were brought in, often where it was hard to find standing room, and ren- dered what aid I could to the worst cases. One poor fellow had died on the Avay, his spurs still on when we found him. In April, 1862, Governor Morton sent a request for Mrs. Colefax and I to report at Evansville, Ind., as there were a great many there who were very sick, and no nurses. Doctor De Bruler was surgeon in charge of Hospital ^o. 2, and I was sent there, but Mrs. Colefax went down the Mississippi. I was placed in full charge, and was really commanding otficer and nurse, besides having iive other hospitals to look after. In September, 1862, I received a com- mission from Miss Dix. The surgeons had wanted me to be inspector of all the hospitals there, but •296 OUR ARMY NURSES. Doctor De Bruler objected, as he needed me; and, besides, I felt that I could be of more use as a mirse. Twice I went down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers after the sick, and at Satartia, on the Yazoo, was under fire from the rebels, but our gunboats soon disabled them. We had a small battle, and took a church, which we fitted up for a hospital. We took some on the boat, gathering up three hundred on the return. I was at Young's Point the time of the bombard- ment of Yicksburg. On that trip my feet were so badly blistered that I had to be carried in a chair from the landing to the hospital. I was just ex- hausted, and ftiinted when taken to ni}^ room, but was soon ready again for duty. I have had men die clutching my dress till it was almost impossible to loose their hold. I have often taken young boys in my arms when they were so tired they could not rest in their beds, and held them as I would my own little boys. I never Avent to the ward with a sad face, but always had a smile and a cheery word for all. The doctor used to say he knew when I was ahead of him, for tlie patients had such pleasant countenances. I had " saddle-bag pockets,"' and used to carry little delicacies for them to eat, for they would get so hungry. At last they used to say, '"'" Our nurse car- ries a cook and store in her pockets." My efforts were nobly seconded by one of the cooks. He seemed never to tire of doing little extras, — baking potatoes, boiling eggs, making crackers, and OUR ARMY NURSES. 297 many other things. And how anxious they were for the " loaves and fishes." Ah, poor fellows, they needed them badly enough! Once when we were looking for Morgan and his guerrillas, a poor man came to me and requested that I go to my room at the first alarm, and said he would stand by my door, and they would have to go over his dead body to enter. But the pitiful part of it was that he had no use of his legs, — had to shove his feet along; one arm was disabled, and he had been shot through the chest. It moved me to tears, and he said, "Do not be afraid; I will die fighting." Well T knew he would. N^o such patriots as ours could be found. Perhaps I should add that the reason I understood minor surgery so well, was l)ecause I had a thorough course of instruction imder Doctor Jameson, Avho gained great experience in the Crimean War. I also had a manual that treated of the surgery during that war; so I could, and did assist in many amputations. My name was then Lois Dennett; but at the close of the war I was married to one of my first patients, whom I saved after five doctors had given him up. I left the hospital in September, 1864. Lois II. Duistbar. 908 22a Stkkkt, Ogden, Utah. 298 OUR ARMY NURSES. \ j^tsr^-^ if^l^ REBECCA WISWELL. JE^^LISTED in Boston, the first week in March, 1862, and was in CTOvernment employ three years and foni- months. Miss Dix sent for me. I used to do np bandages, and carry them to the State House every day. They said mine were the best of any. One day they asked me if I had ever nursed. I told them I had for twenty years in Boston. They asked if I had any recommendations, and I told them I had plenty at home. " Will you please bring- them up here and let us see themV " they said. Then after looking at them : " i^o one who has gone from this part of the country has had such high recommendations. You ought to be out at the front; and with your consent we will telegraph." So they immediately sent for me to go to Washington, and I spent the first night with Miss Dix. ^ext day she took me up to Seminary Hospital. I stayed there a little over two years; then went up the Shenandoah Valley, and was there over four months; then was sent to Fortress Monroe, where I stayed four months more. Was very sick the last fortnight. I had a young man in my ward who would not tell where he belonged until the afternoon before he died; then he told me, and asked me to sing to him, and read a little from the Bible. I asked him where I should read, and he said, "Where ycm open; and sing, *"My heavenly home is bright and fair.'" After I had 300 OUR ARMY NURSES. done this he said, " ]^ow I want you to tell me just how long it will take me to die.'' "My dear, I can't tell you that," I said. " JS^one but God knows. Are you in a hurry to go?" "Yes; I long to be gone." He soon passed away, I trust to that bright world above where there is " rest for the Aveary." I had one man Avho had six little boys and a wife. " Oh, how I long to see them! " he would say. But that can't be; I must leave them to God's care." There were men there who were shot through the bowels. They were very hard to take care of. The worst case no doctor ever dressed but three times; then he was left in my care, and I did it five months. God does many wonderful things. We have great reason to bless and praise Him. I met one of those men in Washington at the Grand Army, a dear gen- eral, who said: "You saved my life. The doctor said I would die ; but you said, ^ You will live.' " The Lord does wonderful things that we poor creatures can't do. May 20th I went to Annapolis, to see my nephew. There were about five thousand troops getting ready to move on to Richmond. The next week they were on the way. In September we had left at our door a baby boy, about three months old. I took him into my room and kept him two days. I don't know what has become of him; he was put into the i)()orhouse. I saw him when he w^as two years old, and he was a smart little fellow. After we had been in the Shenandoah Valley about OUR ARMY NURSES. 301 four months, we nurses were ordered farther South ; but rested in Washington three Aveeks before going into such hard service. We had in the ward a young man who belonged in ]N^ew York. He was brought in about eight o'clock one morning, and lived only until half past two p. m. He was very happy. I sang to him al)out two hours while he was dying. The officers would look at him and say, -^ How that man suffers!" "]^o, I don't," was his reply. " Jesus suffered it all. I shall soon be at home with him, and what a glorious meeting that will be. Jesus can make djdng easy. There is something in my haversack I should like to look at once more." I opened it, and found photographs of his mother, his sister, and the lady to whom he was engaged. He kissed them, and said: ^""I hope they will be prepared to meet me in heaven. I shall soon be there." Oh what a glorious death-bed scene to witness! I often used to look at the troops, and the sight reminded me of the Day of Judgment, so many on the march. We had some grand meetings during the war. President Lincoln used to say : " We need less talk, and more praying. God will hear and answer prayer." I often sang for my patients when requested to do so, and I have stood by some of the most blessed death-beds I can imagine. There were a great many praying men in the army, — a great many I hope to meet on the other shore. 302 OUR ARMY NURSES. I can't write well, my hands tremble so very mnch, I was 88 years old the 24th day of last Septemljer. With love to all, Kebecca Wiswell. 9 Spring Stkekt, Ti^ymouth, Mass. 40th New York Infantry. National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn. 304 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. DANIEL SCHRAM. J WAS only a young woman then, but it seems bnt yesterday that the war broke out, and mv husband was wounded, having responded to the first call for volunteers. Oh what chansfes there have been since! ]N^ow I have two grown children; and other things remind me of the flight of time. Disabilities have come upon me, too, and I am no longer able to get around very well; still, I must not mourn, but accept whatever the Lord sees fit to send, as He knows best. One of the surgeons under whom I served while in the hospitals, was Dr. Charles F. Haynes, now of Brighton, Mass. He was a noble man, kind to every one under him, but especially thoughtful of the poor wounded soldiers. May God bless him and his family for his kindness during the cruel war. I have never regretted that I went to nurse the soldiers in those dark days. I have stood by the ]:)edsi(le of many a dying man, and those scenes are fresh in my memory to-day. The following sketch from a paper outlines my work : — " The case of Mrs. Sohram is familiar to many of the old resi- dents of Amsterdam, as she resided here in 1H61, when certain patriotic citizens assisted her to proceed to the front, and carry out her noble purpose of renderinjr aid as a volunteer nurse in army hos- pitals. She first went to Burkittsville, Md. ; but finding that the hospital had been removed to F'rederick (Md.), reported for duty 306 OUR ARMY A^URSES. there, and was assigned by the medical staft', as hospital nurse, to duty in Camp B, outside of Frederick City, among wounded and sick soldiers, removed thither from South Mountain and Antietam. The service she rendered there is gratefully remembered by many a veteran, and has probably been mentioned at many a 'camp fire' since the close of the war. Notwithstanding that her service Avas without pay, and her expenses, including her board outside of the hospital, at her own cost, she frequently bought and furnished to convalescent, and other sick and wounded soldiers, necessaries for Avhich army regulations did not provide. The exposure incident to camp life and her untiring work impaired her health, and necessi- tated her return, after eight months of service." Yours in F., C. and L., Mks. Daxiet. Schram. Four Plain, N. Y. National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn. 308 OUR ARMY NURSES. m NANCY M. GROSS. J ]Sr February, 1890, Kepresentative Seth L. Millikin, of Maine, introduced into Congress a bill grant- ing a pension to Nancy M. Gross, of Bucksport, a nurse in the Second and Sixth Regiments. The bill was referred to the Committee on Invalids' Pensions. The evidence submitted was such that a most favorable report Avas given, and the bill passed without opposition, giving to the deserving lady a pension, — a help and comfort in her declining years. Mrs. Gross filed a large number of letters gladly written by the comrades who Avere familiar with her brave career. The following is one of many : — "I would most respectfully call your attention to the fact that Mrs. Nancy M. Atwood-Gross went out with the Sixth Maine Regiment Volunteers as a nurse, and served in that capacity in the field and hospital, caring for our sick and wounded with untiring zeal, and participating in our long and weary marches by day and niglit, through the dark days of the Rebellion ; often standing by the side of some dying comrade who gave his life for the country we so much love, blending her tears and prayers that those comrades be enrolled in the great army of which God is the supreme commander. Believing that this good woman's health was impaired by this arduous duty, and untiring energy and zeal to render assistance to her country in those days of bloodshed and hardship, we ask that the Government, now in the zenith of its prosperity, render her a compensation for her services from 1861 to 1863, believing her most deserving. Respectfully, Louis P. Abbott, Late Go. L, 6th Ifaine Volunteers. Now (1895) District Chief Engineer Boston Fire Department." 310 OUR ARMY NURSES. Mrs. Gross writes : — *"" I was born in Montville, Me., in 1834:, the dangh- ter of John Yerplast, a farmer. "When the war broke ont I was a widow with one child, and living in Bangor, where I was earning my living as a seamstress. I had had consideral^le experi- ence in nursing, and, with good health and strength, I felt it my duty to do what I could to help the Union cause by ministering to the sick and wounded. Accordingly I enlisted as a field nurse, under the name ^Nancy Atwood, and left Bangor for the front, under Colonel Knowles, in May, 1861. The only other nurse in the regiment was a Mrs. McDonald, from a neighboring town, — Corinth, I think. "We were in Hancock's Corps, and went into camp at Chain Bridge, Ya., v\^here I remained until after the first battle of Bull Run. During this time we were in close proximity to the rebels' line. Times without number the camp was thrown into confusion by skir- mishes, and we were driven into the swamps. The weather was severe, and my tent was often flooded or blown away. There was much sickness in the regiment. The measles broke out, and I Avas con- tinually employed among the afflicted. "At the fii'st battle of Bull Run I had my first experience with wounded men. My brother was injured, and I was transferred to his regiment, the 2d Maine, and entered the field hospital at Fort Cochrane, on Gen. Robert Lee's farm, on Arlington Heights. Here great hardships were endured, many of the wounded from the battle of Bull OUR ARMY NURSES. 311 Klin having been broug-lit thei-e; and I worked almost day and night to lessen their snfferings. Mrs. Hartsnn Crowell, of Bangor, Me., was the only nnrse besides myself in the hospital. "^ We were in this camp abont five months, when the regiment advanced to Hall's Hill, where the winter was spent. Here, in addition to my duties as nurse, my trade as a seamstress came into play, and I repaired or made over hundreds of overcoats and blankets for the men. "On the 14:th of March, 1862, the regiment was ordered to Alexandria, and I was transferred to the Seminary Hospital, at Georgetown, D. C. Here I remained nearly a year; then my health began to fail, and I received an honorable discharge." This is the story of the brave Maine woman, briefly and modestly told; but the boys who wore the blue can read volumes between the lines. Her address is ^ANCY ]Vr. Gross. BUCKSPORT, MaINK. 1st Maine Cavalry. National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn. 312 OUR ARMY NURSES. SUSAN COX. JWEXT into the service from Knox Comity, 111., and served with the 8od Illinois Infantry, at Fort Henry, Fort Donaldson and Clarksville, from October, 1862, until June, 1864. This regiment was garrisoned at Fort Donaldson the greater part of the time I was with, them, so my experience was less varied than that of many others. Once when my husband had gone with most of the company thirty-iive miles up the Cumberland River, to guard a boat, we Avere surrounded, and a fight occurred. The INJ^orthern women were ordered on board a boat that was to drop down the river. "While on the way to the landing the shot and shell w^ere flying all around us, and I saw one of our boys lying dead, having been fearfully mangled. One of our soldiers w as condemned for desertion, and I saw him shot in the presence of the whole com- mand. The men were formed in a hollow square, so that all could see very plainly. He stood in the center with the nine men, Avho aimed their guns at his breast, and eight bullets pierced his body within a circle of six inches, ^ine more guns were in reserve; bat ah! they Avere not needed. Yours in F., C. and L., Susan Cox. Tecumseh, Nkb. 314 OUR ARMY NURSES. MISS ELIZABETH WHEELER. )FTER looking over some old army letters, I find my memory so refreshed that I have con- clnded to try to comply with yonr request that I write a sketch of my experience as an army nnrse. When the first company enlisted from Worcester, and my brother went with them, my whole soul was aroused, and had I been a man I should have counted one of the number. Soon word came that the 6th had been attacked while going through Baltimore, and that one of our men was killed. This caused great excitement, for that was not supposed to be rebel ground. I think all the women felt like learn- ing to use firearms. I did, at least, but did the next best thiug, which was to offer my services in case the men should be sick or wounded. It was a three- months' regiment, as that was supposed to be a long enough time in which to end the war; and my services wei'e not needed by them. But after the battle of Gettysburg, when so many wounded were sent to McDougal Hospital, Fort Schuyler, where several ladies from Worcester had already repaired, I received a summons and pass to go thither. It admitted of no retreat on my part; if it had my courage would have failed, so much did I shrink from going amidst such suffering. However, there was nothing for me to do but go forward; and I 315 316 OUR ARMY NURSES. think it was July 5th, Avitli only one day's notice, that I started, feeling very Aveak in myself, yet '^ strong in the Lord," When we arrived at the fort it was a strange sight to see so many scores of men in white garments lolling on the ground and fences. They had been ordered to exchange their woolen clothing for cotton, which seemed almost murdei-ous, as they had worn nothing: but Avoolen all throuo'h their term of service. This resulted in colds, coughs, and inflammation of wounds. Each nurse had a ward of about fifty men. I tried to put on a brave front and imagine all as bi'others, and in that spirit commenced my duties. That night I heard sounds that told of ague chills ; and the next morning went to inquire who it was, and found it to be a young man who had lost his right arm in battle. He asked me for a woolen shirt, and I succeeded in getting one, although they were very scarce. But it was too late ; the chill had done its work. As I went around with the doctor to see the patients, I noticed his arm, which was unbound. The loosely hanging flesh looked very dark, and the bone could be seen. I thought it was gangrene, and asked the doctor if they would not have to amputate again in order to save his life; but received no answer. I showed that I was green by speaking to a doctor in that manner. He was a young cadet, put there for practice, the men said ; and it was very hard for them to submit to being treated by one who did not know his busi- ness. The same wash-basin and sponges were used 0('R ARMV NUJ^SES. 317 for all, and as a result gangrene got into the wounds, and that with the colds made quick work with the most of them. When I next went to the young man who had lost his arm, he was restless and in a high fever. He told me how his twin brother had been killed in battle two Aveeks before, and that his father was dead, and he was all there was left to his mother. He was only twenty -four years old, but said, " I have been a very wicked young man." Then I spoke of our Heavenly Father's love, and asked him if I might read him the story of the Prodigal Son, telling him that God comes to meet us as soon as we have a desire to retnrn from our wanderings, and that he was just the one Jesus died to save. I saw that in a few hours the end would come, so I repeated some of the precious promises, and asked him if he could not trust in Jesus. " Yes, I do ; I Avill," he replied. I tried to comfort him with the assurance that the Lord will forgive all who repent, and he seemed satisfied. Later in the day he became delirious. The night watch came. In the morning I found that he had hngered through the night, but at 10 A. M. he died, and was buried with four others that afternoon. Oh, it seemed so sad when I thought of the friends at home ! The men said he was a brave soldier, and that he would have li\ ed if he could have been sent home, which would have cost the Government no more than to keep him there. It was dreadful to see so many die, and be buried in a few hoiu's, and know that somewhere there were friends who loved them. And it was truly surpris- 318 OCR AR3iy NURSES. ing how the men could be yo cheerful, joking- and throwing their crutches at each other, while they longed to be at home or back on duty. Those who coukl read spent much time in that way; others played games. Some had a habit of sitting at the head of the ward and playing cards. It a\ as near my room, and as I went in and out I would often hear an oath. One day I said, "Boys, I never knew people to pray so much over their cards as you do." They looked up in astonishment, and said they did not know they prayed. " Well," I replied, "if I should ask God to Ness as much as you do to curse, I should call it praying." I think I never heard swearing there again, except from visitors from other wards. I had a rich experience one Inspection Da}. It always came Sundays, — I suppose, to give the men more to do. There was a new order for " no boxes or books on the tables," so all such things were put in my i-oom, as there was no other place. I had long wanted to get hold of those boxes, and now was my time. The reason was this: the boxes were often open when I went to dust, and on the lids were cheap pictures. I had ready many pictures of battles and generals, which I pasted over the ones on the lids, and they were all dry by the time they Avere carried out. When I went around the next morning it did me good to see the queer looks, though nothing was ever said. I will close with two letters written while in the hospital : — OUR ARMY NURSES. 319 Fort Schuyler, September 27. Dear Mother : — I have received tlie boxes. That drum of figs from Mrs. Eldred it did not take me long to dispose of. I so much enjoy having a luxury to give the men. Please to tell the lady how much it was appreciated. I received a letter from Mrs. G. in behalf of the Sanitary Commission, saying she had that day forwarded two boxes of jelly. It is so good of them ! I like to be the almoner of their bounties, and show the soldiers how Massachusetts gives. I hope the next will be a box of woolen shirts. The men in my ward are all getting along nicely, and until to-day I have had no very bad cases for a long time. One poor boy had his leg amputated. He is from Pennsylvania. He was wounded at Fort "Wagner, and taken prisoner by the rebels. His foot Avas taken off by disjointing it at the heel. He had suftered terribly all the time, and now has to go through it all again. His groans are dreadful to hear ; he does not bear it like many, still, we know it must be hard. I have spent the day in my ward instead of going to the chapel. This man's name was John Conners. He was a little fellow, under twenty years of age, and veiy active, but he can neither read nor write. I have been trying to teach him both, but he will suffer so much that there will probably be a pause in the reading. It would have done you good to see the interest he manifested when I read to him in the Testament. I read nine chapters right along. If I went to stop he would say : "• But there is more yet ; keep on. It seems like an interesting story." I presume he had never heard it read before. I explained as I went along. To-day when he was in so much pain he would become quite quiet as soon as I commenced reading, and go to sleep. To-night I told him to think about Jesus suffering for ns (I had read the crucifixion to him), and asked if he would not try to bear it silently. He said he would, and now he is sleeping quietly. I never had such satisfaction in speaking or read- ing to any one. It all seems new. E. Dear Friends at home : — I have ventured to do another thing. There is a young man by the name of K. I'm afraid he has been a bad young man. He 320 OUR ARM)' NURSES. was sick awhile ago, — the result of having a ball cut out of the side of his neck. I took care of him ; he had hardly got well, when I was walking out, and saw him sitting on the ground with four others, playing cards. I was satisfied they were gambling. While he was sick I opened a letter for him from his mother, in which she sent him five dollars, and one of the men said she sent him a letter that morn- ing with ten dollars in it, telling him he should have the last cent she had. I thought I would make an effort to save him. I invited him to come into my room this Sunday morning, telling him I wished to talk with him for liis good, and hoped he would take it kindly. He promised, and when I asked about his home friends, he told me he had a mother, one sister, and two little brothers. His father was killed in battle, nearly six months before. I asked if he did not feel that a great deal devolved upon him to help to be a guide to those little brothers, and his mother's stay. After talking seriously with him of the effect upon his life, I asked him to spend the Sabbath in thinking what he would do. I told him I thought there was no one thing that would so harden tlie heart toward all one's friends as gambling ; that I thought it would lead one down until he would take the last cent from a widowed motlier, or from a hard-working sister ; that it made one break all of God's com- mandments, and hate His laws. " Every word you say is true," he said. I gave him an interesting book to read, and asked him to think it all over and tell me, wlien I came to the ward that night, what he had decided, — whetlier to leave it off or keep on. When I passed through the ward at noon he was busy reading, and I think he was all day. As I went to my room at night, I said, " What is your decision? " " I have decided to leave it off," he replied. " I think it best for me." He remained two or three weeks, then was sent to the front. God only knows whether he Avas able to keep his promise. Miss Elizabeth AYhp^eler. 43 Orchard Strkkt, Worcester, Mass. 322 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. MARY E. PERKINS. J HAVE to inform you that Maiy E. Perkins is now deceased; but, as her husband, I will try to supply what you require regarding her services in the hit6 war, having known her from childhood. I assure you I am in full sympathy with all move- ments to perpetuate the history of whatever pertains to that struggle, having been a participant therein; but especially the memory of those noble, self-sacri- ficing women who left friends, and home with all its comforts, to endure the hardships of camp and hospi- tal, and to minister to the wants of the sick, wounded and dying. It was through their heoric efforts that many are calling them blessed to-day. Yours in F., C. and L., AxDKEW F. Pp:rkixs. 711 4th Street, South St. Cloud, Minx. Mary E. Perkins (formerly Chamberlain) was born May 5, 1839, at Brewer, Me., where she resided until she was seven years old; then removed to Enfield, Me., where she lived until the bi'eaking out of the war in 18(31, when she volunteered her services to the 11th Maine Yolunteer Infantry, as nurse. She was accepted, and accompanied the regiment to Wash- ington. Soon after arriving there she entered Camp Stone Brigade Hospital, on Meridian Hill, where she remained attending the sick until the regiment went 323 324 OUR ARMY NURSES. to the Peninsula, in March, 1862. Following the fortunes of the regiment, she embarked with them for Fortress Monroe. On arriving there it was found that orders had been issued that no nurse be allowed at the front. She then sought and gained permission to enter Hygeia Hospital, at Hampton, Va. About two weeks after. Miss Dix arrived at the hospital, and seemed very loth to accept her as a nurse, on account of her age ; but upon the earnest solicitation of the surgeons and nurses, telling of her qualifications and zeal in the work, Miss Dix mus- tered her into the service. Here she remained, at- tending the sick and wounded of McClellan's army during the Peninsula Campaign. After the battles of Seven Pines and Fair Oaks, she was detailed on the hospital boat that went to White House Landing, to receive and care for the sick and wounded. Twice after this she was detailed on the same errand. Sometime in September the Hygeia was broken up, and she was transferred to the temporary hospital near Fortress Monroe, where she remained until the last of October, when she went to ]S^ew York, to nurse an only brother who had been disabled in the service. When he could travel, she procured her discharge and went home. Testimonials of her high character, her sympathy for the patients, and the efficiency with which she performed her duties while in the service, from all the surgeons under whom she served, show how nuich her efforts were appreciated. Hers was a nature OUR ARMY NURSES. 325 that could see no suffering or distress without doing the utmost to alleviate it. In April, 1865, she was married to Andrew F. Perkins, of St. Cloud, Minn. :N'ov. 18, 1893, she died, beloved by all who knew her. MEMORIAL DAY. 'Tis meet that loyal hearts unite And homage pay the nation's brave. Nature herself joins in the rite, Not one neglected, lonely grave, But all her choicest tributes share — Memorial lays that song-birds sing, The aromatic laden air — Sweet resurrecting breath of spring. What shall our fit memorial be? What added lustre may we shed Upon the sacred memory Of our beloved and honored dead ? Not martial strain nor fairest flower Are worthiest tokens we may give. They die as dies the passing hour, Some tribute seek we that shall live. Some heart made light by gift of love In memory of a dear one's name — May this not worthy tribute prove E'en to a hero's cherished fame? Then pause not long by flower-strewn grave. On human shrines our emblems lay. So shall we render to our brave Fit tokens of " Memorial Day." 326 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARTHA F. JENNISON. JF I should midertake to wi-ito all T knew about war times and the boys hi blue it would require a large volume to hold it; but I will tiy to give you a few items. I was born in Templeton, Mass., but we had gone to the "West, and were in Fort Madison, Iowa, when the war broke out. My eldest son felt he must go into the army, and at first it seemed to me that I could not spare him; but he went, and was in many battles during the four years he was in the service, and the Lord heard my prayers and returned him to me to tell what he had been through during the cruel war. My other son was in school in Boston ; but as soon as he was graduated he went into the navy on the steamer ^' Lillian." He, too, was in many battles, and sometimes sick, but God spared his life. A mother can judge what were my feelings, with my husband dead and my sons engaged in such a perilous undertaking. In 1862 I went to Keokuk to spend the winter with Mr. and Mrs. Samuel F. Miller; and whether it was in March or April I cannot tell, but the Govern- ment took a large hotel for a hospital. Mrs. Miller and I went in when the men first arrived; and oh, such suffering! It was fearful to see! The surgeon-general came to me with a roll of bandages and a bundle of lint, and said, " Mrs. Jenni- 327 328 OUR ARMY NURSES. son, will you go with me and help to dress the poor boys' wounds?" I did not feel that I had the nerve to go through it; but after I had helped with ten or twelve brave fellows, and saw how much there was to do, and so few to do it, I felt it my duty to stay and help. I thought perhaps if I did what I could for them, some one would care for my sons. I boarded with Judge Miller, but used to go every day to the hospital, and I found plenty to do there. I carried my tablet, pen, and ink, and often wrote letters for the boys who were too sick to do it for them- selves, or had, perhaps, lost the right arm or hand. I think there were a thousand men here. There were fifty in one large hall with only a chair between the cots. I have known fifteen to die in one day; but oh, they were so brave to the end ! I used to read to them a great deal when they were in such agony that nothing could do them any good, and that seemed to quiet them moi-e than anything else. Many a night I have sat by sick and. dying soldiers. I went into the hospitals to try to help, not for pay; on the other hand, I spent time, money, and health, working with my head as well as my hands. In about six months I was taken with the typhoid fever, and was carried to my home in Fort Madison, where I was sick for a long time. I had a book in which I kept the names of officers and many inter- esting facts, but during my sickness it was lost. Martha F. Jennison. Weston, Mass. 330 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. M. J. BUNCHER. 'GREEABLE to your request, I will try to give some account of the hospital to Avhich I was called, and in which I served as a nurse during the last year of the war; or, from October, 1864, to September, 1865. In the fall of 1864 the hospitals along the frontier had become overcrowded, and a question arose in the minds of the public-spirited men of our State in regard to providing a hospital for the sick and wounded of our own State. Yery little time was lost before a well-equipped United States building was established in Manchester, I^. H., receiving the name, '' AYebster Hospital." It would accommodate six hundred patients, and during the time of its existence, sixteen hundred were admitted and cared for; quite a number from Maine and Massachusetts, as well as from ^ew Hampshire. The working force consisted of Col. Alex. T. Watson, surgeon in charge, and seven or eight assistant surgeons, four medical cadets, and four stcAvards, five nurses, and an extra woman of all work. Four convalescent soldiers wei-e detailed to render such assistance as we needed. Our assio-ned work was in the Extra Diet Department, and we were ajDpointed l)y Miss Dix. The nurses were Mrs. Eliza P. Stone (deceased) and Mrs. Mary J. Buncher, of Manchester (sistei-s) ; Miss Mary 332 OUR ARMY NURSES. J. Knowles, Miss Elizabeth J. Dudley, and Mrs. Moore (deceased). The responsibility rested more especially upon my sister and myself; the duties devolving upon us included the supervision of preparing the diet and stimulants for all the sick and wounded needing special care, visiting them, and administering such comfort and cheer as we could. The other nurses had their full share of the labor of love in preparing all the httle delicacies foi- the sufferers, from whom we all received ample comj^ensation in their grateful expressions of thankfulness. We saw much suffer- ing bravely borne. Thirteen deaths occurred from various causes, — the first five of as many different nationalities. Those wei-e very solemn occasions. Another sad scene came when the convalescents were sufficiently strong to return to the front; also, when more wounded ones were brought to us. But there were many pleasant things connected with our hos])ital life. The people of the city and state were deeply interested in the work. The pastors took turns in coming each Sabbath. The large " mess hall " w as arranged for an audience room, and we had excllent discourses delivered there. The singing by the soldier boys was fine. Colonel Watson permitted them to have many kinds of amusement, in which all who were able participated. They frequently gave concerts of no mean order, to which many were invited from the city. The young ladies also gave a fair, and the proceeds were devoted to the purchase of a nice little library, which gave OUR ARMY NURSES. 333 the men a good selection of books, and they were greatly appreciated. Colonel Watson always maintained the same strict discipline as was observed at the front : only special days were allowed for visiting ; no one could enter or leave the grounds without a pass ; and after the even- ing guard went on duty we could not go into any of the wards without giving the countersign. Gifts of all kinds sent to the sick ones were delivered at our quarters, to be dispensed according to the judgment of their physicians. Thanksgiving Day, I remember, a bountiful provision was made for all those who were able to partake. That year at Webster Hospital will ever remain a bright spot in memory, notwithstanding the many painful scenes we were called upon to witness ; and I rejoice that I was permitted to share in the services rendered by so many noble-hearted women to the brave and heroic sufferers, the defenders of our beloved country. I possess many tokens of kind rememberance from those who were under our care, — letters, photographs, etc., — and as the years go by, they seem more and more valuable. Quite a number of those who were then young men, now occupy very responsible positions. I have an excellent photograph of the hospital and grounds, taken before the buildings were removed. It was presented to my sister and myself by Colonel Watson, and I prize it very highly. My dear sister, Mrs. Eliza P. Stone, died seven years ago. Her experience at the hospital was 334 OUR ARMY NURSES. identical with my own ; but her sweet Christian character, and strong faith, impressed itself upon the hearts of many suffering and dying ones, and gave consolation to many in their hours of trial. MkS. M. J. BUNCHEK. 182 Main Stueet, Nashua, N. H. LIVE. " Live for good that you may do — For the errors you may fight, For the aid that you can give, For the needs you can relieve, For the wrongs that you may right " Live afflictions to console — Giving strength unto the weak, . Giving hope to dumb despair, Like an answer to a prayei- ; Be a help to tliose that need. " Live to say, ' Thy will be done ! ' Even though it seem unjust To your dim, imperfect sight ; What He doeth must be right : Keep a iirm, unwavering trust. " Live the seed of good to sow ; Live to sweeten sorrow's cup. And to lift the fallen up ; Live in fellowship and love. And so live when called above." 336 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARGARET HAMILTON. J WAS born in Rochester, :N'. Y., Oct. 19, 1840; and being an only child I a\ as well cared for, and knew very little of life's care until the death of my dear mother, in 1857. After that I became very restless and unhapj^y; and as I had always been religiously inclined, I thought I should like to become a Sister of Charity, as I had been trained in their schools, and thought they did a great deal of good among the sick, the poor, and the orphans. I met with great opposition from my father, who could not bear the thought of giving me up to that life; but finally my pleadings won his consent and in 1860 I entered the Orj^han Asylum, an aspirant for the Order of Sisters. This was a favor granted to my father, as a mark of respect, for he had been a good friend to the church and the asylum. After three months' probation I was sent to the Mother House in Emmitsburg, Md., where I remained six months under their instruction, learning their methods. Finding me qualified, they gave me the habit of the Order, and sent me to the Orphan Asylum in Albany, ]!Sr. Y., to teach a class. Here I will state that one is not required to make final vows until she has been in the Order five years. This was the autumn of 1861, — a critical time in the history of our country ; when peaceful homes had 337 338 OUR ARMY NURSES. to part with loved ones who went forth to battle, that the United States might live undivided, one great and glorious nation. Almost every letter from home brought news of this or that one of my relatives who had enlisted, and I began to regret that I was unable to do anything for the cause. But early in the spring of 1862, an order came from the Mother House for for three other Sisters and myself to go to the Satterlee United States Military Hospital, in West Philadelphia. I shall never forget the great feeling of true haj^jDiness I experienced when the order was made known to me ; but I dared not let any one know how I felt, for fear they might not send me if I seemed too anxious to go, as that is a part of the discipline. However, I determined that if I was not sent I should leave the Order, and offer \\\y services in the great struggle. A¥e went early in May, 1862, and found a few other Sisters at the hospital; among them a niece of General Beauregard, — a Miss Boulina from Louis- iana. She was a student in the academy attached to the Mother House, and became infatuated with the Sisters; so she joined them, very much against the Avishes of her ftimily, Avho were far from being recon- ciled to her nursing Union soldiers. She herself did not relish it, and after working about eight weeks we suddenly missed her, and never learned what became of her. We were appointed by Secretar}^ Stanton. Dr. I. I. Hayes, the Arctic explorer, was the surgeon in charge, assisted by Dr. James Wihiams and many OUR ARMY NURSES. 339 others; among them Dr. John S. Billings, of medical fame, who at present resides in Georgetown, D. C. This hospital was built to accommodate five thousand patients, besides the corps of surgeons, nurses, etc., and was opened the 1st of May, 1862. I remember that we fared poorly for some time, as the commissary department had not been established; neither had we conveniences to work with. Doctor Hayes bought our first " rations," sending his regrets that we should have been inconvenienced in that respect. A day or two later hundreds of our brave boys arrived from the Chickahominy Swamps. Dozens of them were already dead when taken from the ambu- lances, and many others were just breathing out their brave lives. The ward surgeons, medical cadets, and the commissary department arrived with them. Now began in earnest the work of real hospital life. The first week after the arrival of these wounded and fever- stricken boys, we had scarcely time to eat, rest, or sleep. Our corps of nurses was insutficient for the demand made upon their time by the terrible sufferings of the sick and dying. Many of the Sisters were unable to endure the hardships of such a life, and were taken from us, so that oui' work was greatly increased. From constant standing and walking I soon was afflicted with bhstered feet, from which I suffered greatly, but my services were unremitting. I shall never forget one of my next experiences. I had heard of the pi-overbial "grayback," but my first intimation of his actual 340 OUR ARMY NURSES. presence was an itching sensation. I looked to discover the cause, and saw ever so many of them preying upon my flesh. I was " all of a shiver/' and so disgusted that I thought I would leave. But my better nature and common sense came to my rescue, and consideration for my personal comforts was put aside as I thought what the soldiers were suffering so bravely and patiently for the dear country we all loved so well. After this, be the duty ever so hard or unpleasant, I did it cheerfully. During the battles that followed in 1862, 1863, and 1861, our hospital was constantly filled. At the battle of Gettysburg more soldiers were received from the field than ever before; the wards were overcrowded, and tents were erected on the grounds to accommodate two thousand, the most of these being colored troops, who, when convalescent, made it lively with camp-meeting hymns and prayers, which greatly amused some of the boys, but caused others to use unmentionable words. The weather was extremely warm, and the vast number of the wounded made careful attention to their wounds impossible; and upon their arrival at the hospital many wounds were full of vermin, and in many cases gangrene had set in, and the odor was almost unbearable. The demand on our time and labor was so increased that the number of nurses seemed utterly inadequate, and the hospital presented a true picture of the horrors of war. The poor boys were maimed and mangled in a terrible manner. Readers, try to impress these truths on your memo- OUR ARMY NURSES. 341 ries, and never forget what the soldiers of the RebelHon sacrificed and suffered that this nation, born of God, miglit live, and that her glorious flag should be respected by all the nations of the earth, both on land and on sea, and that the terrible curse of slavery should be abolished. I remember one poor felloAv who had been struck by a bullet in such a way as to take out both eyes, without touching the brain. He recovered, but only to live out his days in a realm of darkness. Amid such scenes of dreadful suftering, borne so uncomplainingly, my life as an army nurse was passed. Yet it is with feelings of thankfulness to God that I recall those times, and know that I was permitted to give almost three years of the best of my life to the country I love, and to her brave defenders. We received a large number of wounded after the battle of the Wilderness, and among them was a young woman not more than twenty years of age. She ranked as lieutenant. She was wounded in the shoulder, and her sex was not discovered until she came to our hospital. It appeared that she had fol- lowed her lover to the battle; and the boys who were brought in with her said that no one in the company showed more bravery than she. She was discharged very soon after entering the ward. On my return from the N^ational Encampment in Washington, September, 1892, I had the great pleasure of visiting Doctor Baldwin, who served in the Satterlee Hospital from June, 1862, until the w ar 342 OUR ARMY NURSES. ended. He was a man of sterling woi'th, and a warm friend of the soldiers. It is needless to say that we had a most enjoyahle time talking over the days of the war. We spoke of the great fright we had when General Early made his raid on Chambers- bnrg, and fired it; and how the brave boj^s who were just getting about, forgot their weakness and were ready to take up arms; how the places of business were all closed in Philadelphia, as the owners were off to defend the city. After leaving the service, on account of poor health, I was married to a soldier of the 19th Maine Volunteers, and of this marriage eight children were born, seven of whom are now living, and they are a great blessing and comfort to me. I have taken pleasure in instructing them in the great principles of patriotism, and it is a standing joke among them that they have '"'Civil War for break- fast, dinner, and supper."" I left the Catholic Church, and have been a Baptist for fifteen years. I am trusting only in Christ. And I now send u]) a prayer to our Heavenly Father to preserve in my children true loyalty to our country, — the dearest and best in the the world. Yours in F., C. and L., Margaret HAMLLTOisr. 70 Elm Strekt, Wakkfikld, Mass. 344 OUR ARMY hWRSES. MARGARET A. WEED. MARGARET A. EDGAE was born in 1838, and reared and edncated at Lockport, 111. When the Rebellion broke out she felt it her duty to do all she could for her country; so when the call came for nurses she immediately offered her services, and, with her sister Ellen, started for her first field of labor, Oct. 9, 1861, and soon arrived at Jefferson City. Mrs. Liver- more and Mrs. Hoag gave these two girls com- missions, and Doctor Beck assigned them work in different wards, under an older lady as matron. The hospital was a large, four-story building, which had formerly been used as a ladies' academy. Here were wounded men, cases of measles, typhoid fever, scarlet fever, and indeed all the diseases that followed the army. There were from thirty to forty men in each ward, and the work was not as systematic as it was later in the war. Surgeons, nurses, and soldiers were alike ignorant of hospital service, and it is a wonder that so much was accomplished when we think that they did the cooking, kept the wards and patients clean, superintended the entire housekeep- ing arrangements, beside having the responsibility of preparing the diet. The hospital was always full, and in spite of all that could be done, many died. The summer was hot, the autumn pleasant, and the winter severe, — the changes greatly affecting the patients. 346 OUR ARAfV NURSES. Occasionally an incident would occur that greatly amused the boys. One day a soldier from Missouri came in from camp very sick, and as he grew worse and worse, we sent for his wife. She was dressed in a linsey-woolsey suit, and rode an old white horse. She had lived in the backwoods all her life, and of course saw many strange things at the hospital. Soon after she arrived an engine came puffing up the track, hauling a train. " Oh my! What is that?" she cried. On being told she replied, " My ! I never seed a car in my life before ! " This amused the sick men, and did them as much good as a dose of medicine. She would sit by her husband's cot and smoke hour after hour. Finally he died, and she went home. It would take a volume to record the suffering and death, the joys and sorrows, and the many interesting incidents which occurred at this one hospital, where Miss Edgar remained until it was closed, in 1862, and the nurses ordered to other places, wherever they were most needed. After the battle of Fort Donaldson there was a great demand for help, and the medical director ordered her to report at Paducah, Ivy., where she was detailed to service Jan. 23, 1863, and assigned to Hospital No. 1, under Major II. P. Stearnes. This hospital was a large, four-story structure, that had previously been used as a warehouse. She was placed in a surgical ward, where she had men from Corinth, Vicksburg, and second Donaldson; and here she found all she could possibly do, day and night. It would be impossible for her to say how many OUR ARMY NURSES. 347 passed through her ward during the two and a half years she was there, as she kept no record. The hospital had been conveniently fitted up at great expense to the Government, but it came to sudden destruction. On the 25th of March, 1864, the enemy under Generals Forrest, Harris, Buford, and Thompson, made an attack on Paducah. The rebels tore down the fence around the hospital, took possession, and filled the building with sharpshooters. As the hospital stood on higher ground, this gave them a chance to shoot our men in the fort. Miss Edgar relates her experience there in the following words: "As I was leaving the hospital I met a rebel soldier, who brought his gun down with authority, saying, ^Halt,' and then ordered me to fall into line. On going a little farther. Miss McLeary was ordered to fall in, and he marched us into the open field between the rebels and our fort; but the balls flew harmlessly above our heads. Mean- time our guns were under the necessity of shelling the hospital, in order to rout the rebels, who were killing the men in the fort. " While we were in the field a rebel officer rode up and asked, ^Ladies, how came you here?' "We told him it was the order of one of his men ; whereupon he told us to get down on the ground, or we would be killed. We met a rebel soldier, and Miss McLeary said, 'I thought my time had come.' He repHed, * You should always be ready to die.' We were so frightened that we could tell nothing about time. Near by us a cow was grazing. A ball struck her; 348 OUR ARMY NURSES. she jumped high in the air, and with a loud bellow retreated in good ordei'. We momently expected the same fate, but in spite of our fears we laughed at our strange condition. This was my first experi- ence in raid or battle. Soon we saw the rebels retreating, loaded with plunder; but they also carried many dead and dying men, among them the lifeless body of General ThomjDSon, covered with blood. " As we were moving off the field a rebel, carrying a flag, said, ^Have you many Yanks?' ^Yes, sir!' I replied. ^ Reinforcements are coming down the river.' This was repeated, and passed along the line, ^Reinforcements are coming!' " Forrest sent in a flag of truce for a surrender of the fort; meanwhile we escaped as best we could, and made our way to the Ohio River, and crossed into Illinois. We were not allowed to return until the next day; then it was to learn that the hospital, with all its contents, had been burned." Miss Edgar was next assigned to Hospital JN"©. 4, and found all she could do there, as there were moi'e victims from the attack on Paducah. Forty-six Union men and a thousand rebels had been wounded. The work continued until late in August, 18G4. Then she returned to her home for a short time, to rest; but was soon requested to report to H. P. Stearnes, surgeon in charge of the Joe Holt, United States General Hospital at Jefl'ersonville, Ind., where she was detailed to service Oct. 3, 1864, in the hnen department. This hospital was a little city in itself. OUR ARMY NURSES. 3^19 It Avas iitsually crowded, and fii'teen hundred men were in it now. There was a diet kitchen, con- valescent dining room and kitchen, commissary, bakery, and a hirge, elegant drug store. The laun- dry was run by machinery, and a Mr. Hamilton did the heavy lifting and kept the books. The linen room was on the plan of a large dry-goods store. While in this hospital Miss Edgar was married to Alexander G. Weed, who was hospital steward of the 24th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantiy. She was honorably discharged in the fall of 1865, and returned to private life. She has many letters dating from 1862 to 1892, which express gratefulness and appreciation for her services. Thirty years have flown since those days; she is now "gray," and inclined to live in the past, and think over the scenes of war-times. She has been a widow since 1891. Her address is Margaret A. Weed. Russell, Kan. 350 OUR ARMY NURSES. ELIZABETH LUCAS. J WAS born in Darlington, Ont., in May, 1835. My father was a firm friend of Wm. Lyon McKenzie, and both grandfathers were among the early settlers of Connecticut, and served with General Washington. Both were with him the night he crossed the Delaware. I was married to William Lucas, Sept. 28, 1852, and we moved to Michigan. He enlisted in the 4th Michigan Cavalry, Jan. 5, 1861, and was sent to Atlanta. Late in the fall his regiment returned to Louisville, to recruit. My husband was sick, and I went to him there ; and when the regiment went to the front I accompanied it, for I thought he would soon have to go into a hospi- tal. About the 1st of January, 18G5, I went into Brown Hospital, where I served in the linen room. Then my husband had his leg broken, and w^as sent to Tennessee; but I had him transferred to Brown Hospital, where I could care for him. He had a long run of typhoid fever, so he was under my care some time. My daughter was with me, but was too young to be allowed to nurse, so she served in the linen room. When the hospital broke up I was discharged, in August, 1865, and came to the little farm where I still live. I recall an incident that occurred when I was on a United States steamer going from Cincin- 352 OUR ARMY NURSES. nati to Louisville. Just at evening the guerrillas lired upon the boat, breaking windows and frighten- ing every one generally. The soldiers on board returned the fire, but it was so dark that they could not see even the banks Avhere the guei'rillas were hidden. Then the captain ran the boat so fast that we were more afraid the boiler would burst or the boat run aground, than we had been of the enemy. We reached Louisville in safety, however, and remained on board until the next morning. Elizabeth Lucas. Swan Creek, Mich. " Waiting through days of fever, Waiting through nights of pain, For the waft of wings at the portal, For the sound of songs immortal. And the breaking of life's chain. " There is little to do for the soldiers. Only to watch and pray As the tide is outward drifting. As the gates of heaven are lifting, And its gleam is on the way." 854 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY F. KNOWLES. \ I /^-^^-'^-^^ ^^^''^' fi^'^ women in the AVebstei- United 4\(s States Hospital, where I served, in Manchester N". H., bnt only three of us are noAv living-, Mrs. Buneher, Miss Dudley, and myself; I do not know where Miss Dudley is at present. Mrs. Buneher had charge of the Diet Department, and my work was to prepare food for the sick and wonnded who were not able to go into the general ''mess hall." I went from Nashua, :N'. H., to the hospital in 1864, and came out in I860; was there just abont a year. We nnrses did what we conld for the ''boys in blue" who were under our charge; but I have always been sorry that I did not follow a regiment, as I think that perhaps, in that way, I could have made myself more useful. Maky F. Kxowles, Derry, N. H. 356 OUR ARMY NURSES. ti** -fis^ BETSEY A. COOK. # i J^ 1861, .^iien every heart that beat in unison for the proteetion of our country and the dear old flag- was filled with patriotism, we were living in Augusta, 111. My husband enlisted in July, in the 2d Illinois Cavalry, and went to the army, while I"*tetin'ned to my father's, in Jackson. In September my husband wrote, asking me if I would go there as nurse in Delanoe's Dragoons. I replied that I would, and soon received an appointment and transportation. I went from Grass Lake to Fort Halt, Kentucky, across the river from Cairo, arriving there about the middle of October. Doctor Kendall was in charge of the hospital, and I served under him all the time I was with the army. We all lived in tents, and used one for a hospital, imtil !N^ovember, when they built cabins for winter quarters. A room was prepared for the sick, and we got along very well till some time in January, when the water rose and covered the ground so that no one could get out at all who did not wear cavalry boots. So we were obliged to leave our comfortable quarters, and move to higher ground. AVe went up the Ohio River three or four miles, to a place called Camp Pain. I stayed there until the last of February, and then went home to Michigan, where I remained until November of 1862, when I resumed my duties as nurse at Island No. 10. Doctor Kendall was in 357 '358 OUR ARMY NURSES. charge, and glad to have iiiv help, as" there was not another white woman on the island nntil I had been there some time. I took charge of all the clothing and hospital supplies, and prepared the food that was carried to the sick. My husband was detailed there as hospital cook, and they were using baker's bread, which I must say was not very good. Soon after I arrived I asked him if that was the best bread they could get; and when told that it was, I said if I. could get some flour I would make some bread that I thought would be better. As there was no j^east I tried the old Yankee way of " salt raising." The bread was good, and I made from it some toast to send to the sick boys. The man Avho carried it to them soon returned, and said they wanted to know if I lirought that all the way from Michigan, and if they could have a little more, for it was the best they had tasted since the}^ had been in the army. I told him they could have all they wanted, and from that time I made all we used. About the last of Aj^ril, Doctor Kendall was relieved, and sent to Columbus, Ky., and Doctor Kelson took his place. Soon a large number of contrabands were brought in, and the ablebodied men were drilled there in camp for awhile, then taken to Columbus, and formed in a company. Soon the necessity of forming a colored military hospital was felt, and my husband was relieved from duty at Island Ko. 10, and ordei-ed to Columbus. I went there in June, 1863, and stayed until the last of August. My duties were to oversee the cooking OUR ARMY NURSES. 351) and hospital supplies. After a time Doctor Iven- dall was taken sick, and went home; then all the officers were changed, — my husband ordered to his company, and I returned to my home in Augusta, where I kept house until Mr. Cook was discharged and came home. While I was an army nurse I had many pleasant and many sad experiences, which I should be glad to tell you, but I am old, and it is hard for me to write. A year ago I made application for a pension, but it was rejected, on the ground that Mrs. Yates was not legally authorized to appoint me. But if I never receive any pay, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I did what I could to help in the great struggle for Union and the flae:. Lamar, Mo. Yours in F., C. and L., Betsey A. Cook. 360 OUR ARMY NURSES. EUNICE M. BROWN. JAM glad that I belong- to a band of army nurses, and proud that I sprang fi'oni a patroitic race. AYhen the Civil War broke out I was anxious to start, but impossibilities hedged the Avay until June, 1864. I then went from Windham, Portage County, Ohio, to Camp Chase, near Colum- bus, and at once began yisiting the General Hospital, and doing for our sick soldiers such things as read- ing, writing, etc., in company with Major Albert Longwell's wife. "We continued this delightful work nntil Augnst, when Sui-geon Longwell had orders to open a temporary Post Hospital, till the completion of one in the course of construction. Owing to " I'ed tape " we could not draw any delicacies from the Government for our sick ; only soldiers' rations were available while we occupied this temporary building nor could nurses draw pay or rations. I Avas informed of these regulations, and asked if I would take the position of nnrse under such conditions. I cheerfully replied that I would. A three-months' regiment came in at this time, bringing their sick and wounded. There was not a pillow, blanket, or coat for the poor fellows; nor a delicacy, with the exception of a few that we ladies furnished from our quarters. We just had to put the brave men on the bare floor, and when our store was exhausted, feed the sickest from our tables. 361 362 OUR ARMY NURSES. They were patient and thankful, and this paid ns well, — better than money. They said, "We thought when we got to God's country, we should have something to eat." We applied to the Soldiers' Aid Society, and received word: " Ohio must take care of her soldiers. Our supplies must go to the front." We went with our ambulance among the farmers, soliciting food, only to be told at nearly every house, "If you wish provisions for the iwisoners you can have all you want; but not one thing for the "blue coats." With heavy hearts we would i-eturn to our boys with only a few supplies, wishing we were not subject to the " powers that be." I struggled along this way until Dec. 24, 1864:, when we moved; after which we had full supplies for our sick. I was then mustered into the 88th Ohio Yolunteer Infantry, by Surgeon Longwell, under whom I had served all this time, and continued until his death, in April, 1865. After this I served under Dr. II. E. Warner, successor to Dr. Longwell, till at the close of the war I was mustered out, in July, 1865. I remained on duty until August, when new hands were capable of caring for those who were unable to leave camp. I served as nurse the entire time. My experiences are varied. My husband. Surgeon James F. Brown, was assigned to duty among the prisoners, numbering live thousand. This gave me a chance to see the care that was bestowed upon the Confederates. Many of the same farmers we had called on brought from their storehouses an abund- ance which was not needed; for "Uncle Sam" took OUR ARMY NURSES. 363 good care of the rebels, putting them in condition to fight ns again. As I visited their commissary, and saw the supphes in nntold quantities, — dried fruits by the barrel, sugar by the hogshead, canned and fresh fruits, butter, eggs, meats, etc., in proportion,— I thought of our empty commissary, and my indignation was great. I wished for an equal division. One day, at my husband's request, I cooked a delicacy for five little sick boys, not over four- teen years old. As I fed them I asked each, " How came you here, so far away from home and mother?" The answer was in a whisper, " We were pressed into the service." They did not dare say this aloud, havino: been commanded not to tell. Dear little fellows! Ere nightfall three had gone beyond the roar of battle. The others died the next day. We had men among those prisoners who were loyal to the flag of our Union. This was proved at an exchange of prisoners. Eighteen hundred at one time refused to go on the exchange, saying: "We were pressed into service at first, and if we leave here we shall have to take up arms against the N^orth again. Our prison life is preferable to that; our fare is better than your men get, we are sorry to say." I witnessed a regiment of prisoners as they left our camp. IS'ot all looked happy, but most looked healthy. The feeble ones were taken in ambulances, all had well-filled haversacks, and were clothed well. Each had a double blanket rolled over his shoulder. 364 OUR ARMY NURSES. Now I will tell you how our men looked when they came hito camp. All were ragged, some hatless, many shoeless, more stockingless; not one blanket, not even so mnch as a ragged one, no haversacks, all walking skeletons. Those unable to walk were borne on the shoulders of some a little sti'onger. Most all prostrated themselves on the ground ; some going to the garbage barrels for food before lying down to wait to be assigned to their quarters. I said all were ragged; I mistake there. One, by the name of Bradley, was well clothed, had a good single blanket, and was a picture of health. I asked: " How is this, Bradley, that you have come back in so much better condition than your comrades? Did you have your money concealed? " He replied: "I was stripped like the rest, but after being put in prison, when hungry all I had to do was to step on a stump and make a speech for the South. This always gave me a good square meal, and anything else I wanted. Mrs. Brown, you ai-e told the reason our men fare so hard in the South is a lack of j^rovisions. It's not true, and don't you believe it. There is no scarcity if you have money, or cater to the South." I can give you no idea of the condition our poor men were in when released from their prisons. One of the worst cases was that of Mr. , who was of fine physical build and of superior talents, but had scurvy when he returned to us, and his sores were full of vermin. All we could do did not save him, and we were thankful when he was at rest. OUR ARMY NURSES. 365 THE HUCKSTER. I referred to being unable to get supplies for our camp of the farmers in a "Secesh" county. There was a certain huckster, a woman, who called daily at the prison with a load of pies. We appealed to her for her fruit and eggs, offering to pay cash. Her reply was, " ]!^o ' blue coat ' gets anything from me." About this time a regiment returned to Camp Chase for muster out. The officers went to Columbus for money to pay their men, forgetting to return for three days. The men, famishing on the third day, asked the huckster to sell out to them, saying, "We have no money to-day, but will pay you to-morrow." She said : " You old ^ blue coats ' ! If you had been fighting for the South you might have had my whole wagon-load of pies. N^ow you shall not have one." At this the soldiers said, " We'll see ! " and gathered round the wagon, some holding the horse. She raised her whip, saying, "Ge up, Jim! Ge up, Jim!" One soldier caught the lash while she still cried, " Ge up, Jim." The dear, hungry boys devoured every pie with a relish, saying: "Mother, how good your pies are ! The best we have had for a long time. Call around to-morrow and get your money." Then releasing the horse they said, "Ge up, Jim! " I could not help shouting, " Glory! " and did not feel conscience smitten eithei-. The old lady looked daggers at me, and I was glad I was not in range of that whip; but felt sorry for "Jim," on whom she vented her spite. 366 OUR ARMY NURSES. MY TWO BOY PATIENTS. I want to tell of my two boy patients, named Henry, because I found such remarkable faith in Christ's promises in one, and in the other such patriotism. One morning, in the rounds of my wards, as I opened the door of Ward 2, a pair of beautiful brown eyes met mine. The face wreathed with smiles, and the lovely brown ringlets covering his pillow , made a pictm*e wondrously fair to behold. On my going directly to him he extended a thin, trembling hanrl, saying, ''Good morning, mother!" I said, "I have a little boy patient." "Yes'm." "How came you to call me mother?" " O, the boys told me you would care for me." " Have you a sick father here you came to see?" "Xo'm; I have no father." " Have you a soldier brother here, then?" "I have no brother, or sister, or mother; she died when I was eight years old. I have no home, either." "You are a little boy now,"" I said. "Ho w^ came you here?" "After mannna died, jiapa was drafted; he was too poor to hire a substitute, and I had no one else to stay with me, so I asked the officei's to take me as their drummer boy. I have been in the service three years and three months." "Pray tell me how old you are." "Eleven years and nine months. Three months ago my father was killed in battle at Antietam, and the same ball that killed him, wounded me in the hip. The surgeon says there is so much scrofula in my system that I am a cripple for life." I said: "My little Henry looks OUR ARMY NURSES. 367 .very hapjDj for one with no home or relatives that he knows of. How is this?" For reply he ran his emaciated fingers beneath his pillow, drawing there- from a small copy of a well-thumbed Bible, and holding it up with trembling hand, sparkling eyes, and glowing countenance, he said: "Mrs. Brown, this book tells me, ^ When thy father and mother forsake thee, the Lord will take thee up.' If I get well, and try to be good, I shall have a home somewhere here; if I don't get well, I know I have one ^ over tliere^ " As we had eager listeners, I questioned him more closely, saying: "Dear child, the war will soon break up. Where will you go?" "I don't know, mother. I am trying to be good; God will not leave me with- out a home." In my astonishment, knowing his mother had been dead over three years, I said, " My boy, who taught you such faith in God? " "My dear mamma, until she died; then my paj3a." In the course of time the child limped around the ward, saying one Sabbath moi-ning, " I wish I could go to Sunday school." Two of our ward attendants said, " Get the child read}^, and Ave will take him." These men formed a seat with crossed hands, and I placed him thereon; Heniy putting an arm around the neck of each, and they bore the happy child away, while he cried, " Good-bye every one." He was carried this way during his stay in camp, thus getting different ones to church and Sunday school who were not in the habit of going to either. All loved the child, and he led some to Christ: thus ful- iilling the scripture, "A little child shall lead them." 368 OUR ARMY NURSES. At the close of the war, word came from head- quarters to put all of our patients not able to leave camp into Ward 1. In going to do this I found the attendants l)usy obeying the oi'der, some patients packing their haversacks, preparatory to going home. Judge of my surprise when I found our Henry one of them. I said, " Where are you go- ing, child? " I supposed one of the boys was to take him, knowing all wanted to do so. The little one answered, " I don't know, mother, but God will send some one for me; I will go into Ward 1, and wait till he comes." Sequel: The next day our hospital steward, Dr. George Austin, came to me with a gentleman, saying: " This man is seeking for a soldier orphan boy to adopt. He had no son to give foi" his country's cause, and he wishes to do some- thing in this way. Tell him all you know of Henry." I told him the above, adding: "The child is a great reader, but despises story newspapers, and all trashy works. He thirsts for an education, but Avill never be able to do much physical labor. He is a remarkable boy in every respect." His eyes filled with tears as he said : " Thank God, T have found the boy I was seeking ! Wife and I are childless, but have enough of this world's goods and to spare. Camp Dennison being nearer, we had planned to go there for our boy; but we both dreamed, on the same night, that we should go to Camp Chase instead. I can see God has led us. I am glad the child wants an education; he shall have it. I don't care for his physical labor, only so far as necessary to OUR ARMY NURSES. 369 his health. If the boy is wilhng- to go, with your consent (referring to Surgeon Warner and steward) I'll take him now." He left with the steward, and after a little I went to the ward and found the child on the lap of the man, Avith his arms twined lovingly around his neck. On seeing me he came, and with tears trickling over his happy face, he said: ^'Didn't I tell you, Mrs. Bi'own, that God had a home for me? I am so glad, so happy!" As soon as he was prepared for travel, that wealthy gentleman lifted him tenderly and bore our lovely child to a cab; his laughing eyes tm^ned kindly on us as he said, ""^ Good-bye all; I love you." That was the last we heard of him, only that he was happy in his new home. The gentleman and his wife had legal adoption papers made out for him. Owing to sickness I lost their address, but hope this may fall under the eye of Henry, or some one else there, and trust I may hear from him again. I should be very glad to hear from any one of the joatients or attend- ants. I had a noble corps of helpers; all were very good and helpful; not one unkind word did I hear during my stay. Better cooks or housekeepers I could not have had than I found in those men. Too much credit cannot be given our surgeons and wives; many sacrificed their lives for om' sick. Those who did survive have broken constitutions. My other Henry was from Kentucky, and was sixteen years old. He had a widowed mother and one sister, and both were loyal to our flag. Hemy 370 OUR ARMY NURSES. obtained his mother's consent to vohmteer in his country's service, promising never to desert, and that he would prove true to the hist. He was in one battle and was wounded in the lung and brought to our camp with consumption; was sick a long time. I had a quilt sent to me made of a flag, with the request that it be given to the sickest loyal soldier. Henry was that one. I spread it on his cot when he was asleep. On awakening he was so delighted! He could not express his joy in the thought of dying under the stars and stripes, saying: '"'"Pain will l)e less now, and, Mrs. Brown, when I am placed in my cofRn will you promise that I shall have the quilt placed over me? Cover my face and body with it. I want my precious mother to know I remained firm to the last. Mother said if I died in the Korth, my body w^as to be brought home. When the casket is opened, she will see her boy was true to the flag!" The dear fellow's request was granted, and the mother was proud of her son. JOSEPH AND HIS FATHER. Permit me to add another pathetic incident that came under my personal observation. There was a prisoner named Joseph, returned from Andersonville. He was near death, and wishing to die under the parental roof, asked me to write home for some one to come for him, as he was too weak to travel alone. In an incredibly short time I noticed an aged gentle- man trying to climb the steps of the ward. As I sprang to his aid he remarked : "' I came for my son OUR ARMY NURSES. 371 Joseph. I started in just twenty minutes after reading your letter." I escorted this father of eighty years to his son's cot, and they clasped hands in happy greeting. Then the old man exclaimed, "There is some mistake; this is not my Joseph!" His disappointment was so great that he would have fallen if we had not caught him. We tried hard to convince him, but the tears kept rolling down his wrinkled cheeks while he repeated over and over, " l^o, no ; my son was a large, fleshy man, six feet two; " and he paced to and fro saying, " l^o, no; it's not my Joseph." With tears in his eyes the poor soldier began to call up home scenes; still the father could not be convinced, until he said: "Father, don't you remember how I was converted after T enlisted ? You were praying for me, kneeling on one side, with your hand on my head, mother on the other side, when the Lord spoke peace to me. My dear mother said, ^ jS^ow, father, we can let our only child go.' " At this recital the father said, " Yes, yes; I know now you are my son." - The scene drew tears from many an eye. The next morning we pre- pared cordials and everything necessary for two feeble invalids during a tedious journey, fearing neither would reach home. Joseph died the next day in his mother's arms, and the aged father and mother soon followed him to the " Golden Shore." Yours in F., C. and L., Eunice M. Brown, nee Fairbanks. Ill Arlington Street, Cleveland, Ohio. 372 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. ELVIRA MASON. RS. ELVIRA MAS0:N" was assigned to duty December, 1864, at Dale, United States Hos- pital, Worcester, Mass., upon application of C. ]Sr. Chamberlain, surgeon in charge; and received an honorable discharge, Sept. 20, 1865. She writes: — I did not go into the field, so of course I did not endure the suffering and privation that others did. I went from the town of Si)encer, Mass., and retui-ned there when my labors at tlie hospital wei-e ended. If I were well enough to write, I should be glad to tell of many incidents that came under my observation. I consider the ten months in the hospital the most interesting part of my life. My duty was mostly to look out for the extra diet of those who were not able to go to the mess table. In spite of my weak- ness I will note one little incident. One day the orderly came to tell me there was a new patient in Ward 6, a prisoner from Anderson- ville, and that he was a mere skeleton. I thought I would take him a good dinner, so I went to the Extra Diet Kitchen and prepared a piece of beefsteak, some mashed potato, a slice of nicely browned toast, and a mug of tea. He was sitting about midway of the ward, and I went immediately to him, saying: "Good morning, my poor fellow! I have brought you a nice dinner." He gave it one glance, then 373 374 OUR ARMY NURSES. turned his head away, saymg-, " Oh, don't, don't !'^ ''Don't what'?" said I. "Arn't you hungry?" "Don't bring me so mueh. It makes me sick!" I understood tlie situation and carried the food away, bringing back only a httle on a small plate. "I think I can eat that," he said. Every day I increased the amount until he could eat a full ration. His eyes began to brighten, and soon he could go about the wai'd with the other boys ; but I shall never forget the look he gave that plate of dinner. I wish I were able to write more but cannot. Yours in F., C. and L., Mrs. Elvira Mason. West Pullman, III. 376 OUR ARMY NURSES. JANE M. WORRALL. 'T the commencement of the late Rebellion I resided with my husband and two children in Sonthwestern Yirginia, but the feeling- of the Southern people toward Union sympa- thizers was such that we returned to Boston, Mass., the journey requiring two weeks. Business soon called Mr. Worrall back to Yirginia? where he was taken prisoner. After undergoing many hardships he escaped, and made his way to Boston, where he at once enlisted in the 24th IMassachusetts Yolunteers. In 1863 he reinlisted for three years more; serving in all four years and eight months. I then decided to enter the service as an army nurse, commissioned by Miss D. L. Dix. I was first assigned to the Columbia College Hospital, "Washington, D. C, and imme- diately took charge of a Avard of twenty-five cots, some of the patients very sick, some badly wounded. The hospital stood upon a little eminence, and as I wended my way toward it I met a funeral procession. Instantly the tears of sympathy stole to my eyes as I thought of the brave heart now cold and still. He had fought and died for his country. Suddenly I dried my tears, saying : " If I am to be of any use I must learn to control myself. I am here to cheer, not to sadden, the lives of my patients." After I arrived the matron escorted me through the ward 377 378 OUR AR3fV NURSES. of .suffering, dying men. I shed no tears, and when we had completed the ronnd the matron said: "Mrs. TVorrall, of all the nurses we have had, you are the only one who has refrained from crying when going through the ward the first time. I know you will make a good and true nurse." At the exjjiration of my term of duty here, there was a call for nui'ses at Fortress Monroe, and I learned with pleasure that I was to go there. We were met and escorted to Chesapeake Hospital by a delegation of convalescent soldiers. I was assigned to AYard 1, containing sixty-five cots. All were officers, some suffering greatly^ but I felt that with the help of my Heavenly Father I could do the work. I remained there about six months, and during that time acted as special nurse to the Confederate General Walker, of South Caro- lina. He was badly wounded, and was taken prisoner by Mr. Worrall's company. On the way he asked for water, and as Mr. Worrall gave it to him he said, " Is it possible that you, a Northern man, will show kindness to a Southerner ? " " Certainly," was the reply. "You are now a wounded man." I did what I could for him, and assisted in dressing his wounds for a])out three months; then he was exchanged. I was also special nurse to Captain Small and Captain Babb, both Union men. There was only one death in my ward while at Fortress Monroe; that was a lieutenant from Connecticut, shot through the body. He was a great sufferer, and died of internal hemorrhage. I did not leave OUR ARMY NURSES. 379 him day or night, only to attend to the wants of the other patients. I sent for his father, who was with him when he gave up the "battle of life." At last my health began to fail, and I told the surgeon in charge I should have to go home for awhile, or be assigned to lighter duties; but Doctor McClennen said I could not be spared, so for a week I gave up my work. Then came a call for nurses at West Building Hospital, Baltimore, and I went there to take Ward 4, of thirty-five cots. I remained until the hospital closed. There were some severe cases of shot and shell wounds, but after a time my ward became convalescents, and were assigned light duty. Then the cots were filled with rebel prisoners, badly wounded, who in turn were exchanged for Union men from Libby Prison. A more distressing sight could not be imagined. They were in a dying condi- tion, nearly starved. Five died within twenty-foui* hours. Those who could talk told me they had not had water to wash their faces and hands for three months; and if a bone was thrown to them they would fight for it like dogs. They were all brought on stretchers, and it was only with the best of care that any of them were saved. While there I had a very singular case. The sur- geon said he had never seen anything like it. A Confederate boy only sixteen years of age, and very ignorant so far as book-learning was concerned, was brought to the ward A\ath a field amputation; but his doom was sealed. He had the lockjaw, and lay for twenty-four hours, when all I could do for him was 380 OUR ARMY NURSES. to wet a piece of linen in brandy and lay it across his mouth, so he could breathe the moisture from it. He came out of that dreadful state perfectly rational, and after taking some nourishment, asked me to pray with him. I did so, and read the fourteenth chapter of St. John, which I read to all my patients who would listen to me. Then he talked about two hours, — using the most beautiful language about the Bible and the glories of heaven. He certainly was inspired. Everybody who could do so came to hear him. At last, addressing me, he said: ^^ Mother, don't you see the angels coming ? They are holding out their hands to take me home." Then he dropped away like a child going to sleep. Just before the hospital closed five typhoid fever cases were brought to the ward. One died, and I contracted the fever in its worst form ; and although everything was done for me I barely escaped, and have never been well since. I feel that my Heavenly Father blessed me all through my work, and carried me through my sickness. I was in the service a year and a half, and have the honor of being breveted major. Jane M. Woeeall. 9 Warrex Place, Roxbury, Mass. 382 OUR ARMY NURSES. FANNIE A. HARPER. J IS" the winter of 1862 and 1863 I Avas called to the hospital at Le Senr, to see my hnsband, who was seriously ill with erysipelas. The doctors had given up hope, and no one expected to see him out again ; but I took care of him from that time, and he came out all right. There were twenty-four sick soldiers, and no woman to nurse them; so I volunteered, for they were sadly in need of some one. I remained about five months, during which there were five deaths. The sickness was mostly pneumonia and typhoid fever; one died of heart disease. The hospital steward died on his way home on a sick fui-lough, and was laid to rest in Mound City. I had a little son born in April, 1863. He was baptized by our chaplain, Ezra Lathrop. I went with the connnand when it was ordered to Memphis, Tenn., where I entered the field hospital. During the warm weather there was a large amount of sickness and death, sometimes two or three funerals a day, though our quarters were very comfortable, and our boys received good care; besides which, the Chris- tian and Sanitary Commissions brought many luxu- ries for the soldiers. How well I remember when Forrest came with his men to take Memphis ! He was met by a strong force of the "boys in blue," and driven back; but 383 384 OUR ARMY NURSES. they made a raid on our hospital, and killed lots of our sick in their bunks. Later I had fever and ague, and left just before the battle of N^ashville. I did not return, as the war had closed before I regained my health. I belonged to the hospital of the 10th Minnesota Infantry, First Brigade, First Division, 16th Army Corps. Commanded by Gen. A. J. Smith. Yours very truly, FajStnie a. Habper, RosKMOUNT, Minx. 386 OUR ARMY NURSES. ELIZABETH O. GIBSON. /^N the first day of October, 1861, I received 11 orders from Washington, through Miss Doro- ^^ thea Dix, to report for duty at St. Louis, immediately. Uj^on my arrival I was detailed to duty October 2d, in the surgical ward of Fifth Street Military Hospital, St. Louis, where I served, under Di-. John T. Hodgen, twenty-one months. Then patients and nurses were removed to Jeffer- son Barracks, Missouri, twelve miles down the river. Dr. John F. Randolph, of the regular army, was in charge there. My detail of service to that hospital was dated July 24, 1863. October 26th I received orders to report for duty at Harvey Genei-al Hospital, Madison, Wis., and Oct. 13, 1865, received my discharge from hospital service, and returned to Cincinnati; my discharge being signed by Dr. Howard Culbertson, who was in charge at the Harvey Hospital. To write a sketch of that four years would require more space than you could give, but I must say this : I count it a high honor to have been an army nurse, and a great privilege to have ministered to the noble men of the volunteer army. I was also especially blessed in having for head surgeons such noble men as Doctor Hodgen and Doctor Culbertson. The lives of both were shortened by their devotion to suffering humanity. 387 388 OUR ARMY NURSES. Mary A. Livermore spent a part of one day in the surgical ward of the Fifth Street Hospital, and has given a vivid description of the sufferings of the men who were wounded at Fort Donaldson. She has also told how she finally nerved herself to endure the horrible sights and sounds, and so be enabled to alleviate the suffering; and her experience was that of hundreds of sensitive Avomen who entered the hospitals during the war. In this ward that she describes I was on duty foi-ty-two nights in succession, and at any time afterwards when critical cases needed a woman's watchfulness. In the four years of service I fainted only once, but many and many a night I have thought I could not live until morning, so intense was my sympathy with the soldiers ; and not until I join the " silent majority " shall I be free from bodily suffering caused by my Avar experiences. I was allowed to go to the battlefield of Shiloh, because I could dress wounds; also to Yicksburg during the siege. From Shiloh our boat took four hundred and thirty-nine men. They were the last on the field, and many of them were mortally wounded. From Vicksburg the boat carried less than from Shiloh, but on the return trip we had the experience of being fired upon by the rebels. The gunboat that was guarding us soon scattered them, however, and we were not molested again. Yours in F., C. and L., Elizabeth O. Gibson. 849 Appleton Stiieet, Appletox, Wis. 390 OUR ARMY NURSES. ^ MATILDA E. MORRIS. i ARLY in the war I conceived the phm of going ^ into some hospital as a nurse; but my friends would not listen to my plan, saying there was ^ work enongh to do at home In spite of this, I conld not feel that making shirts, bandages, etc., was all I ought to do. My mother finally gave her consent, and I wrote to David Todd, then Governor of Ohio, to see if I could get a pass. In about a week came a reply, containing pass and transporta- tion to Washington, D. C. I was not long in making my preparations, yet it seemed a great un- dertaking, as I was not accustomed to traveling alone. It was one morning in August, 1862, that I left my home in Randolph, Ohio, leaving my two dear little daughters in the care of their loyal grand- parents, Avho bade me Godspeed in my undertaking, though it was a sad joarting, — for God alone knew whether we should meet again on earth. I took the train at Atwater, Ohio, Aug. 20, 1862, and at Wheel- ing, W. Ya., our trouble began. A dispatch had been received before our arrival, warning the officers not to start any train for Washington until further notice was given, as the rebels were making a raid on every train on the B. & O. R. R. One thousand soldiers were sent to clear the way, and the next morning word came that the train could start. We knew it was still a perilous undertaking, yet we were 391 392 OUR ARMY NURSES. glad to take some risk rather than wait any longer. Here I had been befriended by a f\imily of Quakers, who were waiting for the same train. The gentle- man had been over the road a great many times, so he could point out all the places of interest. He had been employed by President Lincoln as a scout all through those mountains, and was only taking his wife and sister to Baltimore, then would start on another scouting expedition. He gave much valu- able information, and a letter of introduction to some friends of theirs in Washington. We did not see anything of the enemy, but heard occasional firing, and of course knew what that meant. We parted at Annapolis, never to meet again ; and that evening I arrived in Washington, but it was too late to see my husband, who was wounded and in a hospital there. I was very tired, and glad of a good night's rest at the hotel. When I awoke I could scarcely believe that I was at the Capital of the United States (or, rather. Divided States, just then). At nine o'clock I went to Armory Square Hospital, and found my hus- band's wound much worse than I had expected. I will not try to tell you how we felt, to meet again after so long a time, although under such trying circumstances. When the surgeon came to make his morning call I told him why I was there, and what I wanted to do, and learned that there would soon be need of more nurses. The next morning I reported to Doctor Bliss, and we had a long talk, which ended by his engaging me to begin my duties as soon as more patients came. OUR ARMY NURSES. 393 He told me to remain until he needed me, but I was not idle very long. One day I saw Doctor Bliss coming up the walk in great haste. "Ladies," he said, "it* you have anything in particular that you wish to have done, do it now, for your ward will soon be full, and there will be plenty of work for us all. The enemy are coming this way, and there will be a big fight to keep them from entering the city." This was August 27th. Then came the Second Battle of Bull Run. The excitement in Washington was intense. We could hear the cannonading constantly. There were only a few patients left in our wards, and we put everything in readiness. We were near both of the river depots, where the wounded would be landed. Soon we heard a great commotion outside, and, looking, I beheld what I never wish to see again. A sadder sight one could not imagine than those loads of wounded men. That day my life as a hos- pital nui'se commenced. Our hearts and hands were full, tending to so many. Some died before they reached the building. Each ward had fifty beds and two nurses; but at home we think it hard work to care for one patient. It was a hard day for us all. First we gave each a drink of cold water, as that was their only cry. I shall never forget one poor fellow who was lying near an old building. He looked as if he were dead, but I stooj^ed to make sure, and thought I saw Ms lips move. The man who was carrying the pail cried : " Come along ! He is dead, fast enough." "^No; wait a minute," I 394 OUR ARMY NURSES. replied, and began to wet his lips. Very soon I had him revived so much that he could drink out of my cup. He was a ^ew York Zouave. The next time I saw him he was on his way to his regiment. After water had been given to all we w^ent around with bread and butter and coffee. Oh, how the poor hungry fellows did relish it! I had many a "God bless you " that day. A great many had been carried into the wards while we were working out- side, and we next procured washbasins, soap and water, and went to w^ashing the blood from their faces, — a work that was very grateful to the men. This occupied the time until midnight. I might write volumes about what happened in this one hospital, but shall have to pass over a great many events. One battle followed another, and each furnished Avounded soldiers. I remained until after the battles of the "Wilderness and of Spottsylvania Court House. I have a little Testament that one of my boys gave me. He picked it up in the Wilderness. Poor fellow, he died on the way home. His father came for him, and stopped in Pliiladelphia to get another son who was so badly wounded that he was not expected to live many days. Another son w^as at the front. The father wrote to inform me of his boy's death, and he said that the mother's heart was almost broken. And so it was all through the war: fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, — all suffering for the same cause. After being in Armory Square Hospital a long OUR ARMY NURSES. 395 time I was transferred to Fiiidley Hospital, also situated in Washington, where I remained several months nnder Doctor Pancoast. We did not have much to do, and I made up my mind to go to the front. The doctor said he would like to have me stay, but finally made out my discharge papers. He also gave me a splendid recommendation. I feel very proud of these papers, as I do also those given me by Doctor Bliss. In order to go to the front I had to enlist with Miss Dix. After going through with considerable red tape she employed another nurse and myself, and had us sent to Sandy Hook, near Harper's Ferry, where we reported to Surgeon Barnes, in October, 1864. He told us there was not much to do, as he had just sent away a lot of wounded men; but we had better stay, and perhaps there would be more in soon. I said, "]^^o; let us go farther down into the valley." So he gave us passes and transportations to Harper's Ferry. They were made out to take us to Winchester, Va., but we could not go for several days, as General Sheridan was there with his cavalry. We all remember the battle, and the victories he achieved in the valley of the Shenandoah. In October, when things became a little more quiet, we started for Martinsbarg. We had not gone more than half way when we had quite a thrilling adventure. Suddenly our train came to a standstill. The rebels had been there the night before and torn up the track for miles, and wrecked and burned the train ahead of ours. There we were in a barren 396 OUR ARMY NURSES. country, not a house in sight, and with the enemy all around us. The rebels had made a mistake, and they were wild with disappointment. It was our train that had the pay-car attached, and that was why we had so many soldiers aboard. Report said that a lady had been burned; and as Miss Evans and myself were walking- along the track, I found a piece of partly burned hair that surely had come from some woman's head. There was melted glass and iron all around, — ruins everywhere; and we were glad when the road was repaired and we could leave that awful place, the sight of which made us nearl^^ sick. AVe reached Martinsville late at night, very tired and hungry. The next day we started for AVinchester, and oh, how it did rain ! But we never stopped for rain in war times. At the station was an ambulance train to take us the remainder of the distance. I think there must have been a thousand soldiers to guard the stores, for an officer "had said, " The rebs are thick as flies in Ausrust alono^ that route." General Custer was with us, and several other oflficers whose names I did not learn. It was a dreadful march. The boys waded through mud and water the livelong day, but not a murmur could we hear. At noon we halted at a place called Bunker Hill. There was wood on one side and an open field on the other. It was a dreary- loolring place. Soon after the train stopped we saw two men riding into the woods, and supposed they had gone as scouts. In a few minutes we heard a shot at no great distance, and soon saw the same men OUR ARMY NURSES. 397 returning with a pig across the back of one of the horses. I never saw anything prepared to cook as soon as that pig. They did not stop to scald it, as the farmers do, but pulled off the whole skin, and in a short time the animal was in slices. In the meantime a fire had been started, and soon the cofFee-kettles and frying-pans were on. I told Miss Evans I was going to have some of that meat for oui- dinner. She skeptically inquired how I should get it. I took a can of condensed milk and some salt, and soon made a trade. The boys seemed to enjoy the fun, and some of them carried ns some coffee. It was a cold, dreary ride, but after a great many halts and skirmishes we arrived in Winchester about midnight. The next day Ave reported to Doctor Hayden, at Sheridan Hospital, which was composed entirely of tents, some so low that we had to stoop to enter; but they were all full of badly wounded men. If the scene at Armory Square was dreadful, this was a thousand times more so. Here the men lay on the bare ground, with knapsacks, boots, or any- thing for a pillow that w^ould raise the head. Pas- sing along, I saw things that made me sick at heart. A young man not more than eighteen had both legs shot off. He could not live, yet he seemed cheerful. We did what we could for them with our limited means; but finally our supplies gave out, and even hard-tack became a luxury. We were told to care for the Confederates as we did for our own, and we obeyed orders; but deep in my heart I could not feel the same. 398 OUR ARMY NURSES. We remained there until it was safe to move the men to Baltimore. 'Wq had hospital cars, which are a little wider than ordinary ones, and are placed on springs. They have on each side three tiers of berths or cots, suspended by rubber bands, and so arranged as to yield to the motion. I made two tri^DS with this train, and the men said it went like a cradle. It was a pleasure to take care of so cheer- ful a company. My journey lasted two days and nights, and I think I never passed forty-eight hours so fraught with both sad and pleasant memories. We rej^orted again to Miss Dix, who sent us back to Findley Hospital, where I remained until April, 1865; then went into the city to stay with some friends named Edson. One of them was (Miss) Dr. Susan Edson, who Avith Doctor Bliss were prominent figures during President Garfield's sick- ness. One day I saw an immense crowd gathered in front of the War Department. Secretary Stanton was reading a dispatch from General Grant, — " Richmond and Petersburg are ours. " This caused great rejoicing, which deepened when the news of the capitulation of the rebel army was flashed over the wires. The next night we went to the W^hite House, to hear the President speak. I shall never forget how his face lit up with joy. But ah, this Avas his last speech! A fcAV brief days o£ wild i-ejoicing followed; then the bright future was suddenly overcast as Treason guided the assas- OUR ARMY NURSES. 399 sin's hand in its deadly work. The mighty liad fallen, — Abraham Lincoln, the noblest of mar- tyrs, to a noble cause! While I was at Armory Square Hospital he visited it several times. And how the boys would rally if we told them "Uncle Abraham" was coming. He would go down one side of the ward and up the other, shaking hands with every one, and spealdng a kind word. He would then shake hands with me, ask me about my work and my home, and charge me to be good to "his boys," I have often seen the tears roll down his careworn cheeks while he was talking with some Avounded soldier. After the funeral I went with fi-iends to Rich- mond, and visited many places of interest. Among them, that terrible death-trap, Libby Prison, and do not understand how any of our men came out alive. I saw the basement floors paved with cobble stones, and a little straw was thrown here and there. The floor was so slimy we could hardly walk; yet here our men had to eat and sleep. I saw Sheridan's army pass through the place on its way to Washington. The men had many strange pets on their shoulders. Some had owls, others coons, and one had a bantam rooster, that crowed several times in my heai'ing. It took two days for them to pass, and we carried barrels of water for them to drink. The Secesh were surprised to see so many left to go home. I was talking with one of Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry men, and told him that was only a small branch of our army. He 400 OUR ARMY NURSES. replied, " Madam, we are beaten, but not con- quered." May 18th I started for Washington. I reached the boat in good season, and supposed I was all right, but a colored man soon came to me and said, "How came you on this boat ?'' I told him and showed my pass. " Oh, you are all right, madam, so far as that goes; but we never carry passengers on General Grant's private boat." I said I was exceed- ingly sorry for the mistake, and he could put me off at the next landing. Dui'ing the conversation a military-loolving man had seated himself near us, and seemed to be reading; but I knew he heard every word, and I also knew very well who he was. He soon laid down his paper, saying, " Sam, what is the matter?" "Dis lady is on your private boat, sah." He came to me and said, "Madam, will you please to tell me all about it? " I did so, and he answered: "I don't see anything very serious about this mistake; there is room for us all. Make your- self pei'fectly at home. We only go to City Point, but you can change boats there," Then turning to the waiter he told him to " make the lady comfortable while she remains on board." This gentleman was our good General Grant. At City Point we shook liands, he bade me good- bye, and I thanked him again for his Idndness, then continued my journey. In the meantime my husband had secured his discharge papers, and we bade adieu to our associates. Peace reigned once more. All that remained to OUR ARMY NURSES. 401 be (lone was to go home and make glad the hearts of tliose from whom we had been parted so long. M}^ father was at the same station where I left him almost three years before. Soon we met mother, sisters, and our own dear little girls. This was a great many years ago, and those girls have children of their own now, and we are grandpa and gi-andma. They often coax me to tell a story of the war. My father and mother have long since gone to the home to which we must soon follow; but it is a pleasure to recall the fact that I had a part in the beneficent work in which it was woman's peculiar privilege to serve her country. I feel abundantly rewarded by the knowledge of having done something to alleviate the suffering of those who gave health and worldly j^rospects, ties of home, and even life itself in the perilous service. Sweet flowers and tender plants creep over the graves that were made so long ago on many a field and hillside; and thus tender memories arise to enwrap the gaunt figure, and veil the grim visage, of "War, that must forever stand a central object ujDon the canvas that portrays the history of those memorable years. I thank God for all his mercies and blessings during all these years. It was He who led us through; and if we love and obey Him, He will take ns nnto Himself, Avhere all will be joy and 'peace, forever. Matilda E. Mokris. 112 Harbor Strket, Clf-vkland, C)hio. 402 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. CECILIA WHITE. J HAD transportations furnished me by Mrs. Wittenmeyer, to go to St. Louis. Then Presi- dent Yeatman provided me with transportations to Memphis, Tenn., where I was assigned to Washington Hospital, going on duty about the 15th of SejDtember, 1863, and remaining until September, 1864. After I had been there a couple of weeks Doctor Wright came to me one morning to know what I was doing for the sick in my ward. " Doctor, I am doing all there is for me to do. You restrict us so that there is nothing for us to do." "In what way, madam?" "We are not allowed to prepare any- thing nice for the very sick ones, and they cannot eat the food from the kitchen." He made no reply; but that afternoon the steward put a nice cooking stove into an empty room, also the necessary supplies. In the morning the Doctor said, " Come with me, and I will show you your kitchen." I assure you we made good use of it, and it was very pleasant to hear the soldiers say, "That makes me think of home and mother," when they ate the little delicacies we j)repared. I often think how little the people at home knew of what was going on in the hospital or on the battle- field. It seemed very sad to me to see men carried to the dead-house day after day, and know that some 403 404 OUR ARMY NURSES. poor mother, wife, or sister would mourn for each dear one. One day the doctor told me of a young lieutenant at the hotel, and asked me to carry him something, and try to comfort him. He had been badly wounded through the right lung, in a skirmish the day before. I went as the doctor requested, bathed the poor fel- low's face and hands, and combed his hair; but he was too sick for me to talk to him much then. Later, I said to him one morning, "War is a ter- rible thing!" "Yes," he answered. "If it hadn't been for that man who was put in the chair, we should not have had this dreadful war." "I beg leave to differ with you," I replied. " I believe he was a man of God's own choosing; he raised him up for this very purpose." I never enjoyed visiting him after that, and was glad when his friends came, a week later. Our nurses did nine months' hard work, cooking in the kitchen in addition to their other duties; then Mrs. Wittenmeyer and her assistants established a branch of the Christian Commission, and we soon went home. I was forty-six years old when I went into the hos- pital, and now I am rapidly nearing the time when my years will number fourscore. Mrs. Cecilia White. 868 North Strekt, Buklixgton, Iowa. 406 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. L. H. HUSINGTON. J WAS enrolled under the name of Lauretta H. Cutler. I went from West Williamsfield, Ohio, May, 1864, and entered the service at Hospital !N^o. 1, Chattanooga, Tenn., commis- sioned by James E. Yeatman, acting agent of Miss Dix. I remained there in Nos. 1 and 2 until I was released, in June, 1865. During the first few weeks I worked in the kitchen, visiting the wards a little while each day; then I became a regular nurse. JSTo. 1 Hospital was composed partly of framed buildings, formerly used as a hospital by Bragg; the remainder of tents. If my memory serves me well, its capacity was six hundred; and when I went there it was full of sick and wounded soldiers. Here it was that I first began to learn the lesson (that difficult lesson that all nurses had to learn) to govern, or, I would better sa}^, battle against my feelings, and work with a will for the sufferers. I also learned how little I could do in comparison to what was needed to be done, and often I could do no more than give a kind look or word to show that I would do more if it were in my power. Alas ! how degradingly cheap is human life in time of war, when our fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons must deliberately kill each other, and call it a victory. I recall a young soldier who was brought 407 408 OUR ARMY' NURSES. in with an unjointed shoulder, — pale, excited, and delirious. As I approached his cot he said : " O mother, I have just been home, and saw you on the lawn with the young folks, but you would not speak to me. l!^ow you are here, can't you give me some lemonade?" But when I took it to him he cheer- fully gave it to another, who was in a dying con- dition. It is only those who have experienced life in a hospital, who can get a clear picture from a description in words. It must all be seen and felt to be known; even then, in my case, at least, much has faded from my memory in the lapse of thirty years. I look to my diary half in vain, for much of it is filled with orders from the surgeon, like this: Division 1, Ward 3, bed 35, milk; bed 33, milk and fruit. Ward 8, bed 10, beef tea, toast, and peaches; bed 15, arrowroot. AVard 2, fever case, raspberry vinegar. Ward 5, bed 6, mush and milk; bed 1, oysters. There were many letters to write, and sanitary things to distribute, — writing paper, stamps, and comfort bags. There was one called the typhoid fever ward. I went there, and carried cooling drinks and brushed out the flies. I often looked ujd their comrades in some regiment, or sometimes relatives, whom I would find, perhaps, in the erysipelas ward, with faces so swollen that they could not see; then carried mes- sages between them. At length I caught the fever. OUR ARMY NURSES. 409 but the intelligent care I received saved my life. Then I Avas allowed to spend a few weeks on Look- out Mountain, with my first colaborer, Miss Bal^cock, who had been assigned to duty there. On my return I was ordered to ^o. 2, at the request of Surgeon Collins. The i^risoners' ward was here. They had their prayer meetings, and prayed to the same Saviour for their cause, just as our men did. But oh, the horrors of war ! May such things never be seen again. Once we had a large quantity of grapes sent to us; and these my orderly and I distributed to all who were able to eat them. I distributed many pocket handkerchiefs, too, which were thankfully received, sometimes with tears; for you who read this will remember that those handkerchiefs were "home- made," and so were doubly valuable to the boys. In the camp were various diseases, small-pox among the rest. Some poor fellows were home- sick, and this malady one must experience in order to know how easily it may become fatal. I remem- ber one such case. The surgeon said: "I cannot rouse him. Do what you can." His eyes seemed set, his limbs cold, and finger-nails somewhat dark. Working upon the supposition that he was home- sick, I commenced to talk of home, his mother, and other loved ones. He listened, but could not speak for some time. Finally I asked him what his mother would give him in such a sickness as this. After several attempts he said, brokenly, "Brandy and peaches." I assured him he should have them; 410 OUR ARMY NURSES. then requested the nurse to heat bricks and put around him; his hands and feet were well rubbed, and I gave him whatever he thought he would have had at home, and he was saved. Later, another poor boy was brought in from the convalescents' camp; he was near his end from the same cause. His request in broken German was for " The Lord's Supper." He said, " Please give it to me, for I cannot die without it." After some delay and much anxiety I succeeded in having it adminis- tered to him. Thanksgiving Day, 1864, we had a Thanksgiving dinner. This was like an oasis in the desert to us all. Among the guests were several military officers of high rank. Our own Ex-President Harrison (then a young man), being the brightest, was called w\)Ow for a speech, and introduced as the grandson of a former President. In reply he said, " I dislike to be introduced by a reference to relatives who are dead: the inference is that, like a potato, the best part of me is underground." How well I remember my anxiety to have the parade over, so the boys in the wards could have their dinner. Dear reader, I have tried to tell you some few things about the work, but a thousandth part of the patient, uncomplaining suffering in field and hospital can never be told. That such scenes may never be re-enacted, is the earnest prayer of an army nurse. Mrs. L. H. Husington. {Formerly Nurse Cutler.) Box 126, RocHKLi.E, III. 412 OUR ARMY NURSES. ADELIZA PERRY. )DELIZA PERRY, army nurse at Fort Schuyler and Balfour Hospitals, to the dear boys who are left, their old nurse sends loving greetingSo And with those beloved comrades who went forth from our midst, over whom together we wept and strove, oh ! so vainly, to hold back, hopefully we will look forward to a joyous reunion. OUR HEROES. Think of President Garfield, — think of Ex-Presi- dent Grant! Words cannot express our admiration for the heroism and fortitude with which they endured their sufferings and met the end. But what have we for those others, the most of them mere boys, with all of life's promise and high hopes before them, far away from familiar faces and the ministrations of loving hands, bearing up under the agonies of mortal sickness, looking forward to, and meeting, the dread messenger without a murmur? In my hospital ex- perience I could number such by hundreds, — yes, I think by thousands. I cannot recall a case, as long as the mind of the sufferer remained clear, where he was not bravely cheerful and intrepidly resigned to move on, obedient to the last call. A Wisconsin boy, wounded, and suffering from malaria, was in a ward of half convalescents, of which, true to his fun-loving nature, he was the very life. We had thought he was on the road to recovery. 414 OUR ARMY NURSES. I was busy in another part of the building, one morn- ing, when word was brought that he was worse, and wished to see me. A hospital nurse learns to read the signs of approaching dissolution unerringly. The luster had gone out of his young, joyous eyes, but he was smiling. I laid my hand npon his forehead, already clammy with the damps of approaching death. "Oh, that is so good!" he said; '''that is like my mother's hand." He stopped now to recover the gasping bi-eath. " Couldn't you," he went on, after a moment's struggling, oh! so pitifully, to keep up his voice, " briug — me some — floAvers? " I flew to the hospital I'eception-room, and clipped every bit of bloom from our few window plants. " Thank yon," he gasped, with his beautiful, boyish smile, as I laid them upon the fast-stiffening fingers. " ^ow — couldn't you get — get — something to tie — them tofrether, — so I can — hold them?" The voice was hardly audible. I cut the tape that held my scissors, and secured them; then he looked entirely gratified. " Thanks ! " I just caught the word before the smil- ing lips fell apart, and the labored breathing ceased. In another ward, at this time, there lay a New Hampshire boy, quietly awaiting the last summons which he knew was surely close at hand. One day, as I was waiting at his bedside, he whispered: "Put your hand under my pillow. You will find a wallet with a ball of yarn in it; it is wound round a fifty- dollar bill. Please to hide it; it isn't safe here. As soon as I am gone send it b}^ express to my folks. The address is in the wallet." His manner was as OUR ARMY NURSES. 415 composed, and his voice as calm, as though he were contemplating an ordinary journey. He was " gone " before the end of another twenty-four hours; and it was not until after I had expressed the parcel that I learned that I had violated a rigid rule of the service, which forbade every hospital attendant taking charge of property of any kind belonging to a patient. At one time a large number of sick and wounded men were brought into our hospital, all in such a state of exhaustion that the surgeon in charge gave me permission to deal out among them some delicious home-made wine, which had been sent me from Massachusetts. How glad I Avas that it seemed to carry comfoi't and reviving energy, until I reached one more prostrated, I thought, than any to whom I had ministered. "What is it?" he asked, feebly, wistfully lifting a pair of mild brown eyes. I ex- plained, and he shook his head, oh, I felt through all my being, so reproachfully ! " I promised my mother," the poor lips had barely vigor to articulate, then rested. After a time the four noble words were repeated, — no more. Then the eyelids fell, and he dropped asleep. Before morning he was dead. How I wished then, how I wish to-day, that I could see that young man's mother and clasp her hand. How the memory of " mother " or some other beloved one at home, mingled itself with the last earthly thought. One day while passing between the cots the hand of a mature man clutched my dress. He was wildly delirous, and dying. " I have two beautiful little girls," he held me long enough to say. The expres- 416 OUR ARMY NURSES. sion of the wasted face seemed to radiate light, — a light that did not leave it even after the featnres had settled into the tranqnility of death. " Don't tell them how had off I am," wonld be the entreaty when I wrote "the letter home/' "It wonld Avorry them. Say I'm better, — getting on slowly.'' Oh how niany, many times I have taken snch letters to my room to add the grief-carrying postscrij)t that it seemed to me a cruelty to withhold ! On one such occasion I met the large-hearted surgeon, who counseled me not to do it. "Send it as it is," he said. "There may yet be a change; who knows?" But the " chang-e " removed the sufferer to the spiritual world. Meantime the letter, speeding to its destination, summoned the anxious mother to the hospital, but, alas ! only to see her son's grave. The remembrance of her agony wrings my heart to-day. She had brought slippers, in which to move lightly about the bedside of the loved one, and the photo- graph of his sister, to gratify the fond brotherly eyes. These she put into my hands, ^o, no; she could not take them back! The pretty home picture I still keep by me, — a sacred memento wliich admits me, as it were, into membership with a dear family circle. But why multiply relations? We know that the records have all been kept, ^o individual has been overlooked; no iota of character, of aspiration, or affection, of all the throngs who were under my care, in the all-fostering Divine thought, has ever missed its quota of recognition and protecting love. Adeliza Pp:kry. 15 GouLDiNCr Street, Wokcesteh, Mass. 418 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY E. DARLING. TJpY husband and myself moved from Wisconsin |fl to Missouri in 1860. When the war broke out I ^ he was compelled to hide in corntields imtil ^ '^ he could join a regiment. But it was not the men only who were in danger; even the women and children had to flee for their lives. He enlisted at Memphis, July 20, 1861, and I went into the regiment in October. They were then home guards, but were mustered into United States service in December, and went immediately to Hannibal, Mo. There Doctor Wyman hired me for the Regimental Hospital. I was to have twelve dollars a month (I did not receive a cent, however). I remained there until April. After the troops left, I had to remain until the sick could be moved; then I went on with all the supplies, the wounded having been sent to general hospitals. As there was no real nursing to do, my duty was to bake light bread for the convalescents, in accord- ance with the doctors order; and I often used fifty pounds of flour a day. When the army was advancing to Corinth, the 6th Division Hospital was started, near the battleground of Shiloh. I remained there until after Corinth was evacuated, making soups, etc., for the sick, besides carrying water half a mile for them to drink. The regiment had to move off without me, but sent a team back twenty miles, saying I could not be spared 420 OUR ARMY NURSES. any longer. After joining them I had a hospital tent^ where I resumed my old occupation of nursing and cooking for the sick. I stayed there until after the battle of Corinth, in October. Then the regiment left me and Avent home to Missouri, on a recruiting furlough, where they remained until November, 1862. In December my husband was taken with the typhoid fever, and was sent to Mound City Hospital, 111., where he remained until March, 1863, and during all this time I heard nothing from him. Then I received a pass, and word that he was back with his regiment, and needed my care. I stayed there until they moved to Memphis, Tenn., where they remained until the winter of 1864. I did not go into the hospitals after this, but waited upon the sick in tents. When the regiment went to Vicksburg I returned to Benton Barracks, where I lived until my husband was discharged. He had continued on duty although he did not speak a word aloud for four years after having the fever. My nursing was over, but I did some cooking at the barracks for paroled soldiers from Southern ])risons, who were not able to cook their rations for themselves. Mary E. Darlikg. San Diego, Cal. 422 OUR ARMY NURSES. HANNAH E. STARBIRD. J ENLISTED in August, 18(34, under my maiden name of Hannah E. Judkins, from Skowhegan, Maine, under Miss Dix, who had charge of all the regularly enlisted nurses. I reported at her house in Washington, and was sent to Carver Hos- pital immediately, where I first ministered to the wounded and afflicted soldiers. I remained there only three weeks, and was then transferred to St. John's College Hospital, Annapolis, Md., where Dr. G. S. Palmer was surgeon in charge. I was there until the hospital was broken up, July 15, 1865. It accommodated about twelve hundred patients, and sometimes there were fourteen nurses. It was a post for paroled prisoners, who were our patients. Pen cannot describe the first boat-load of half-starved, half-clothed, thin, emaciated forms whose feet, tied up in rags, left footprints of blood as they marched along to be washed and dressed for the wards. In many cases their minds were demented, and they could give no information as to friends or home, and died in that condition, their graves being mai'ked " Unknown." The stories related by sick and dying soldiers of their suffering in prison, corroborates what I have seen in print, ouly one half cannot be told! The patience, bravery, and fortitude of our soldier com- rades will ever be cherished in my memory. IIaxxah E. Starbird. No. 1 Gothic Place, 22d California Street, Denver, Col. 423 424 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. M. J. BOSTON. J WAS born in Philadelphia, Pa., July 17, 1837, but at the breaking out of the war, in 1861, was living at the home of my husband's parents, in Baltimore. Father Boston was one of the "Eagle Artillery," — one of Baltimore's defenders in 1812. My own father, James Butler, was also an old defender in 1812, on the United States ship "Independence." On April 19, 1861, I inquired of both brave parents on which side they stood. Both answered : " The Government we fought for ! Our flag can never be conquered ! " My reply was, " Be- neath the same sheltering folds I shall stand, and if I can be of any assistance to our Union soldiers I will do what I can." Well, the opportunity came. In June, 1863, Gettysburg was to be the scene of fierce struggle, and great preparation must be made. Orders were sent from headquarters for every hospital to be put in readiness, convalescents were transferred to other points, and a temporary hospital was secured on Central Avenue; while on account of the railroad coming directly from Gettysburg, a long row of two-story houses close at hand was vacated, and here the soldiers could be washed and dressed before being sent to the different hospitals. Then came a call for physicians and nui-ses. A brother-in- law had been used ujd and discharged at Fredericks- burg, and a brother would be at Gettysburg; so my 426 OUR ARMY NURSES. heart went out to poor mothers, wives, and sisters whose loved ones would be exposed to shot and shell in that fierce struggle, and I said, " Yes, I will go ; and just as I bind up the wounds of strangers, per- haps some one will care for my dear brother." An appeal for supplies was next published in the daily papers, and received a hearty response. In a few days everything was in readiness, and some one placed over each department. One took charge of the lint, another of bandages, others the giving of supplies. Some of stronger nerve were the nurses. I was on hand to wash and dress wounds, though wholly inexperienced. I am sorry to say there was no one to book the names. Such a thing was not thought of in those hurried and exciting scenes. I worked with others, sewing bandages and preparing places for supplies. At night my very dear friend and co-worker, Mrs. Wallace, and myself went solicit- ing cake, jellies, and fruits. All promised a large supply when our men arrived, and the promise was faithfully fulfilled. July 1st, 2d, and 3d, 1863, will never be forgotten by me. Dispatches came: '"''The great and terrible battle has begun ! Many have fallen ! " July 4th freight trains loaded with wounded arrived. Oh what a sorrowful scene it was ! Guards were stationed at each of those houses, to prevent sight- seers from entering. All workers wore a miniature flag, pinned on the left breast. Three of these were given to each, so if one was lost another was at hand. A physician came to me on the arrival of the first OUR ARMY NURSES. 407 train and said, "Can yon dress wonnds?" "If instructed I can," was my reply. lie then sent me for two buckets of water, two sponges, shirt, drawers, handkerchief, stockings, bandages, pins, and lint. Off I went, trembling and nervous at the first sight of the horrors of war, and procured the supplies. " ^N'ow, Mrs. Boston, give particular atten- tion to the cleansing of the wound;" and the doctor showed me just how nuich blue-stone to drop into a bucket of water. The other bucket was for bathing: the face and hands and cleansing the person. Our first patient was wounded on the foot; and when the medical treatment was over and a sheet thrown over him, he thanked me so kindly! I had an assistant, who was then to bring a sandwich, slice of cake, and cup of coffee; and while he ate she was to fan him. I thought the men had eaten " salt-horse and hard- tack " long enough to have something better on their an-ival in Baltimoi-e. As we turned away, the doctor said, " ^N'ow, Mrs. Boston, I have initiated you into the work." Then to the soldiei's awaiting their turn: "I leave j^ou in this lady's care. May God bless you ! Now don't any of you flUl in love with her, for she has a husband and children." Everything was said to cheer the poor sufferers. In a few short days blood-poison had done its work, and they were laid to rest. Rebel bullets were poison. On recovering from my first trial dressing wounds my nerves were strong, and I washed and dressed them as quickly as possible, day and night. Always on leaving a very weak patient I gave him a glass of 428 OUR ARMY NURSES. brandy or wine, bathed his face and hands in bay rum, and put a sheet over the stretcher. With tears in their eyes tliey would thank me, and ask me to go to see them. I often promised, and meant to go, but my time was so occupied I could not, though I sometimes heard from them. They would often inquire my name and I'esidence, and give me theirs; but in my haste I kept no list, though I remembered many a long time. They sometimes kept a memorandum, so I have no doubt some have my name now; if not, reading this may freshen the memory of some one who will remem- ber me. I was called to one who said, " I don't want to be taken to the hospital." "Where are you wounded?" "In the leg." " Can you lift it?" "No." "I will send for the surgeon." "Oh no!" he ci'ied; "send for my brother." So I saw a friend who had her parlor furniture removed, and he was taken there. His brother arrived the next day, and the poor soldier's joy was great at having home attention, and a dear brother at his side. Soon that brother had to take his lifeless body to his parents. I also attended J. Edward Lawrence. He, too, was anxi- ous to have private care, so a good home place was secured. He was wounded in the side, and the doctor had probed, but could not find the ball. "If that man has any family," he said, "notify them at once. He cannot live many hours." I inquired for his wife, and finding out her address, telegraphed for her. Speedily came the reply. OUR ARMY NURSES. 429' "Shall leave immediately." '^Mi-s. Boston, did you ask the doctor about my case?" he soon inquired; and I had to tell him his true condition, and that his Avife was on her way to see him. By the time she arrived his remains were in the cemetery. I invited Mrs. Lawrence to Father Boston's, informed the authorities at West Hospital, secured the necessary clothes for the burial, and on his left side pinned the little flag I had worn; another I tacked on the coflin, so there should be no mistaken identity, and gave the third to his poor broken-hearted wife, who died in less than two years. Oh, how many times I have been called upon for deeds of mercy! As Mrs. "Wallace and I were leaving the cemetery, after Mr. Lawrence's body was put in the vault, a gentleman came to us and said: "Ladies, I belong in Georgia. This body is my brother." Then to Mrs. Wallace, "Won't you stand by the grave to represent my mother?" and to me, "Won't you come and represent my sister?" So that brother, the minister, the grave-digger,Mrs. Wallace and myself stood together a few minutes- beneath the beautiful trees in the grounds appor- tioned to the Confederate dead. I can never forget such scenes, though I forget hundreds of names. One of our ladies took her daughter with her, who, having pricked her finger while pinning a bandage, contracted blood-poisoning while washing a womid. The hand was amputated, but to no avail, and she, died. 430 OUR ARMY NURSES. I assisted a physician in one severe case. A soldier had been withont attention for his wonnded arm for ten days, and it was in a terribly decomposed condition. As he stood up and I removed the blanket from his shoulders, the odor was something terrible. The doctor cut the flesh from the arm and it fell to the pavement. It soon cleared the crowd away from in front of the hospital. By standing beside the doctor I inhaled the full odor, and was attacked by fainting. The doctor ordered brandy, but I did not take it. A soldier took my place, and I went home a very sick person, but soon returned to my duty, though I continued to feel a stinging sen- sation in my nose, and it swelled at times. After all had been removed from the scene of carnage at Gettysburg, orders came to take the names of the workers, but it was too late. Some had already gone home; others did not consider it important, as the work there was done. Then followed a veiy sick time for me; my nose and face were a sight! The doctor attending me said, " You have contracted blood-poisoning, while dressing wounds, and must stay away now." ^N^evertheless I went to Patter- son Park Hospital, and worked there and for the superintendent in charge. When asked for my name, to enter on his books, I said : " !No, I do not want any pay for my services. I only try to do all I can for the sokliers." " You had better give me your name," he said; "it may be of use to you some- time." "iNTo, sir! I don't work for pay or popu- larit}^, but I am always ready to do anything I can OUR ARMY NURSES. 431 for a sufferer." So although my name does not appear on the roll in the War Department, it is engraved on the memory of hundi-eds of wounded men who will never forget those trying scenes. And my prayer is that when the soldiers of the G. A. E,. shall have their hearts cleansed by the precious blood of Jesus, when they have taken their last march on earth, and entered victorious the City of God, that army nurses, soldiers, their families and friends, may meet to rest " forever with the Lord." I am, very respectfully, Mks. M. J. Boston. 1221 Tatxal Street, Wilmixgtox, Del. 432 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. REBECCA POMROY. RS. REBECCA R. POMROY, of Chelsea, Mass., was a woman peculiarly fitted to minis- ter to the needs of the soldiers during the late Rebellion. At forty years of age she was lefc a widow. Her life up to that time had been filled Avith sorrow, leaving her almost hopeless; when at a gathering at which she was present, through the earnest solicitations of her friends, she providentially met an aged lady who spoke the word that proved the touch-stone to her life, and she went from the place with renewed faith. " Let thy gold be cast in the furnace, Thy red gold, precious and bright, — Do not fear the hungry fire, With its caverns of burning light, — And thy gold shall return more precious. Free from every spot and stain ; For gold must be tried by fire, As a heart must be tried by pain. ' ' In the cruel fire of sorrow Cast thy heart ; do not faint or wail : Let thy hand be firm and steady ; Do not let thy spirit quail ! But wait till the trial is over, And take thy heart again ; For as gold is tried by fire. So a heart must be tried by pain ! 433 434 OUR ARMY NURSES. I shall know by the gleam and glitter Of the golden chain you wear, By your heart's calm strength in loving, Of the fire they have had to bear. Beat on, true heart, forever ; Shine bright, strong, golden chain ; And bless the cleansing fire. And the furnace of living pain ! " Ah! it was indeed a "furnace of pain'' in which the heart of Mrs. Pomroy had been purified; and now she had grown cahn and strong. The kind eyes could look out upon the world once more, and see God's providences in their true proportions. The Spirit of the Infinite had met her troubled, world- weary soul after years of half-rebellious suffering, and at last she had laid the burden down, and was willing to face life, — only it must be a more complete and perfect life of service. "When the war broke out she had been a widow two years. One son was all that had been spared to her by the cruel hand of death, and he soon enlisted. It was not long before she prayerfully questioned, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" for she felt that God was calling her to some larger work. Back upon her soul surged a tide of assurance that she should go as an army nurse. Knowing how frail she was, friends and physicians endeavored to per- suade her not to go; but it was useless. She would answer, "I want to be a mother to those wounded and dying soldiers." In September, 1861, she started alone from Chelsea, Mass. OUR ARMY NURSES. 435 Upon her arrival in "Washington, Miss Dix went Avith her to visit the places of interest in and around tlie city. When they entered the Georgetown Hos- pital she fonnd that a nurse had become exhausted, and she decided to leave Mrs. Pomroy to fill the vacant place; so she assumed charge of a ward con- taining fifty typhoid patients. At the close of that first day she found herself strusrs-ling- a«:ainst such w^eakness that it seemed she must succumb to it. Excusing herself, she managed to reach her own room, where she sank upon the rude cot, and poured out her soul in prayer for Divine strength and guidance. We cannot but be- lieve that prayer was answered, for she soon was able to rise and resume her duties, working part of the night. A boy had been in a dying condition for several hours, and as she bent to give him the last stimulant, he threw his arms around her neck, crying, " Oh my dear mother ! " Death sealed that clasj), and it re- quired two attendants to release her. This, and other strange experiences, marked her first night in the service of her country. In a few days she was transferred to Columbia College Hospital, where we gleam from one of her letters that she became familiar with death and suf- fering, and could pass through all that was required of her by relying upon the unseen Hand that she felt fed her with the bread of heaven. Often during the long nights, she stood alone beside some dying soldier, soothing and sustaining him in those " last moments," 436 OUR ARMY NURSES. SO fraught with awe and sadness. The kind, motherly heart conld not forget tliose scenes, and many of her hospital experiences have become familiar household stories. Perhaps one of the most beautiful is that of the bugler of the 11th Maine. The poor fellow had lingered week after week, be- coming fearfully emaciated. At the very last he was conscious of his condition, and said to Mrs. Pom- roy, "Mother, may I have my bugle? " She sent for it immediately, but his poor, nerveless hands were too weak to hold it. An attendant, comprehending the unspoken, yet eloquent appeal, placed it to his lips. For a moment his face was transformed by some- thing of the old-time enthusiasm, as he concentrated all the energy of that wasted frame for the supreme effort. Tavo or three quivering notes wavered and died upon the air, then the lifeless hands fell. The last bugle-call had been sounded! Mrs. Pomroy was a friend indeed to the soldiers under her care, and her efforts met a grateful appre- ciation. But few realize how much we as a nation owe her for helping to sustain President Lincoln and his family at a time when that strong man was almost overcome by the sorrow that shrouded his home. The burden of the year's war lay so heavily upon his heart that he seemed almost crushed by the weight. Then Willie, his second son, died, after a short sick- ness. Ilis youngest son was expected to die at any time, and Mrs. Lincoln, too, was very sick. At this juncture Miss Dix called to see if she could render any assistance, and he asked her to i-ecommend a OUR ARMY NURSES. 437 nurse. She selected " Auntie Pomroy," who reluct- antly left her boys, not realizing what an opportunity was hers in thus being permitted to learn, as few others could, the honest, manly fiiith of our great- hearted President, and at the same time to render the human sympathy and helj) he so much needed. His own words, and the strong friendship he ever after- wards manifested toward her, show how grateful to him were her ministrations. "While she was still a member of the President's family, two young ladies offered to assist her in carrying on a prayer meeting in her ward. The officers in the hospital were mostly Catholics, and her first venture in that line had been followed by strict orders that it should not be repeated. Now she obtained the President's permission, and by the aid of the Misses Pumsey and Mr. Fowle of the Soldiers' Free Library, the meeting was established. At last she returned to her boys; but the sym- pathetic relations between her and the President's family could not be lightly set aside, and she was a frequent visitor at the White House. During one of these visits Mr. Lincoln said he wished to do some- thing for her very much, and urged her to be per- fectly frank and tell him what she wanted most. She was surprised by so generous an offer, and could not think of any personal wants; but like an inspira- tion came the thought of his visiting her patients at the hospital, and she proffered that simple request, which he gladly granted, to the great delight of the boys, whose enthusiasm knew no bounds. She said i38 OUR ARMY NURSES. that one poor fellow refused for days to wash the hand that had grasped the President's. It was characteristic of Mrs. Pomroy that she sent to the kitchen for the colored help, as she wanted all to share in this happy reception. They stood by her side as Mr. Lincoln was passing ont. " And who are these?" he asked. "This is Lucy, formerly a slave in Kentucky. She cooks the imrses' food ; " and Lucy received the same w^arin hand-clasp that had been given to others. "And these?" "This is Garner, and this Brown. They are serving their country by cooking the low diet." Their radiant faces attested their appreciation of the greeting they received. When he had gone, Mrs. Pomroy was severely criticised for introducing " niggers " to the President. So much was said that she felt saddened, though firm in her convictions of right; but the gratitude of the colored people did much toward healing the sting of the sharp words, " Lub ye, missus, long as 3^e lib ! IS^ebber spec such a t'ing." At her next visit to the White House she asked the President if his feelings were hurt by being intro- duced to the colored help. "Hurt? ^o, indeed! It did my soul good. I'm glad to do them honor," was the hearty rej^onse. Later, when Mrs. Lincoln was severely injured during an accident to the carriage, caused by some enemy, he went for Mrs. Pomroy at once, and for three weeks she watched by her bed. Then came a time when the President expected to be attacked personally any day. When the news OUR ARMY NURSES. 439 came of the battle of Port Hudson, he walked the floor in an agony of distress, saying : " The Lord have mercy on those poor fellows. This is a righteous war, and God will protect the right. Many lives will be sacrificed on both sides, but I have done the best I could, trusting in Grod." " Mr. Lincoln," she answered, "prayer will do what nothing- else will ; can you not pray? " The tears were drop- ping over that worn face as he said, " Yes ; I will. Pray for me, too ; " and he went to his room. At midnight a messenger rode rapidly toward the White House with a telegram. Mrs. Pomroy was sitting in the sick-room when the Pi*esident entered, crying: " Good nevs, good news! Port Hudson is ours! God is ^ood!" Mrs. Pomroy answered, " There is nothing like prayer in times of need." "Yes, oh yes! But praise, too; for prayer and praise go together." Occasionally a rebel would fall to her care; but she confessed to an inability to feel toward them as she did toward Union men. One who had been in her ward some days asked if he might call her " Mother," as the other men did. " I^o," was her reply ; " not while you are cherishing rebellion in your heart." She spoke with him on the subject from time to time, and he took the oath of allegiance before leaving the hospital. She served three years and seven months, then re- ceived an honorable discharge, April 1, 1865; and as she went to seek to regain her health after a serious illness, she wrote to a friend thus : — 440 OUR ARMY NURSES. '^ Taking all things, I have passed through ti'ying exjDeriences, but this morning the sun shines just as bright as ever. God is still good to us, and may it never be in my heart to complain or murmur while my experience is so full of God's unbounded love." 442 OUR ARMY NURSES. SOPHRONIA E. BRECKLIN. Q]S^ the 17th of September, 1862, I started, unat- tended, for the seat of war, and three days later arrived at the front. The order given by my commander, Miss D. L, Dix, was await- ing me, so I was immediately taken to the Judiciary Hospital, on Four and a Hay Street, and my labor as an army nurse began. After three months' service I was ordered to the Baptist Church, where I took care of a sick nurse and her ward for a month ; then was sent to Point Lookout, at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay, where I remained all through that cold, dreary winter, with- out fire, caring for wounded men brought from Fredericksburg, from Bull Run, and from Antietam. Oh, what suffering, what heroic courage for this lovely country of ours ! ]N^o language can describe it ! In March I was sent to Alexandria, Ya., and remained there until the battle of Gettysburg; there I was the first nurse in the field hospital, and Miss Plummer and myself were the last to leave. From there I went to Stoneman's Cavalry Hos- pital, six miles from Washington, D. C, where I remained seven or eight months. In the winter of 1863 and 1861: 1 had the fever, and a council of the hospital surgeons gave me up to die; but my work was not yet done. After recovering sufficiently I was sent to Whitehouse, to care for the wounded 444 OUR AR]\n NURSES. brought from Cold Harbor, and i-emained there until the army swung round in front of Peters- burg. Then we went to City Point, and five months later to the Point of Rocks, and were there when Petersburg was taken and General Lee sur- rendered; remaining until our beloved Lincoln was assassinated. Then, and not till then, could I get my own consent to return to the home I had left nearly three years before. I could not leave my post while there was one of my country's noble- men to claim my care. SoPHKOXiA E. Brecklin. Cor. of Tioga and Fall Streets, Ithaca, N. Y. 446 OUR ARMY NURSES. ELIZABETH A. HYATT. JN 1861 my husband enlisted at Chilton, Wis., in Co. K, 4th Regiment, Wisconsin Volnnteers, and joined the other companies at Racine in June. I went to bid my husband good-bye before he marched to Dixie, and found plenty of work there to do in camp and hospital. Some of my neighbors were sick, and I did not wait for an invitation, but cooked, nursed, and did whatever I saw to do rmtil the regiment received orders to go South; then packed my grip to go home. But when I went to bid the doctor good-bye, he said: "O no, Mrs. Hyatt; you can't go. Don't think of such a thing. You are just the kind of a woman we need." He asked me to walk over to see the colonel with him. The matter was soon decided, and I went to Baltimore with them. I then received a certificate, and served in Patterson Park Hospital, in Ward 11, where I had twenty-two soldiers under my charge. When General Dix and General Wool exchanged places, General Wool went to Baltimore, and Gen- eral Dix to Fortress Monroe ; so Fort McHenry was firing salute after salute. In Ward 12 was a nurse who roomed with me. She was one of the blue kind, always down-hearted, with never a smile on her face; always expecting trouble. Well, she went over to our room and neglected to call for me, so I thought I would go to her ward and cheer her boys a bit. I 447 448 OUR ARMY NURSES. went in and looked aronnd, just as if I expected to find her there. Then I said: ^^ Boys, do you know what that firing means? Has your nurse told you?" "]^o; she never tells us anything. What is it?" " Why, Jeff Davis is captured, the South is whipped, peace is declared, and the war is over; so every man who is well enough to travel, will be on his way home as soon as he can pack his knapsack. So, boys, hurrah for home and loved ones!" Such a shout as went up! The ward-master came to see what was the matter. I told him I thought I would go in and cheer them up a little. He said, "Well, I think you have done it with a vengeance, by the looks of the room." They had thrown their bedclothes, knapsacks, boots and pillows around, and what a looking place it was! I ran down and told my boys all about it, and they had a hearty laugh. The nurse had heard the noise, and knew some- thing wrong was going on in her ward, so hurried back; and what a sight she beheld. It took her two hours to straighten things around in order. She came to see me with such a sad face, but found Ko. 11 a very cheerful place, — every man was smiling. She said, " Mrs. Hyatt, I will pay you for this." I assured her that she did not owe me any- thing; that I would do it any time, as it was not one bit of trouble, and it would do them lots of good. After this I accompanied the regiment for a time ; but when it was ordered to Ship Island, I concluded to return to Patterson Park Hospital. I left the " Constitution " at Fortress Monroe, saw the fight be- OUR ARMY NURSES. 449 tween the "Monitor" and the ■'Merrimae,'' then went to Baltimore, where I resumed charge of AVard 11, in March, 1862. In August I went to Virginia, to try to see my brother. While passing Mt. Vernon the bell tolled; the gentlemen raised their hats, and all talking ceased. I went to AYarrington, and ate supper with rebel guards. The next day I dined with Union officers, and there was not a rebel to be found in the place. I started for Fairfax Court House, but the rail- road was torn up, so I called on General Banks for a horse. He sent one to me, and as I could ride very well I soon reached Centerville, where the battle had been fought. Here I found Colonel Andrews with ambulances, but many of the drivers had left the teams to go on the field. I tried to cany water to the wounded, but I felt so sick that I was about to leave the place, when Colonel Andrews asked me if I could drive a team. AYhen I assured him that I could, he asked me to drive an ambulance to Fairfax Court House. There were four wounded men, and before I started, another, slightly wounded on the head, begged to go too. So I had him strapped on the seat. The road was smooth, and I told the men if they could bear it to let me trot the horses forty minutes, I could pass the long train, avoid the dust, and could have them unloaded before the others arrived and took the most comfortal)le places. They told me to drive on. I turned out and cracked the whip. The horses 450 OUR ARMY NURSES. started on a good round ti'ot. Every ambulance I passed, the driver would call to me to stop trotting and drive slowly, or I would kill the men. I ]3aid no attention until one called me a " Secesh."' Tlien I told the man who was strapped on the seat to call them something. He did, and shaking his list, told them to keep still or they would smell powTler. When I had left the train a mile behind I halted, and gave the men a driuk. I cheered them what I could, telling them I would a'o to AVashiniifton and try to get them fui'loughs to go home, then drove on. When the men w^ere comfortably settled and fed, I started on the return, and soon met the train. The drivers called to know how I got through, so f(^r fun I told them I hadn't a live man left. Hoav they did swear, and call me a rebel. I made no reply, for I was in a hurry to get another load. They apologized wdien they found I was the 4:th "Wisconsin woman. They said they had talked with the men, who enjoyed the ride, and were ver}^ glad I was plucky enough to keep on. I called on the Provost Marshal for a place to sleep. He sent me to a room on the second floor, where there were three telegraph operators. I par- titioned off a room with a long table in it, then asked if there were no other women to occupy that big place with me. He sent for one, and I soon went to sleep. The next day I went to Washington with the sick men, but could not procure furloughs. Then I returned to my twenty-two boys in Ward 11. OUR ARMY NURSES. 451 They were very g'lad to see me, and liegged me not to go away again. They said it was lonesome, and no one tokl them any news. I remained there until December, 18G2. Ah, how many sad things hapjiened! One night at six o'clock I left one of my boys ever so much better than he had been. The next morn- ing a man met me with the news that Willie was dead. I went to the dead-house to see him. A doctor was thei'e, who told me the l)oy was poi- soned. A soldier in the ward said that a woman came in with chocolate, and that Willie drank a cupful, but none of the rest would. I felt very badly. That was the only death \\\ my ward. I nursed the soldiers carefully, cheered them nil I could, and would see that they had plenty of good food, even if I had to jnit my hand in my own pocket to pay for it. Elizabeth A. Hyatt. NoKTuviLLE, Wayne Co., Mich. 452 OUR ARMY NURSES. KATE M. DUNCAN. J SERVED one year at Patterson Park Hospital, Baltimore, Md., beginning in September, 1862. My husband was wonnded in tlie neck and went home. He was sick eighteen months; then I went with him wlien he returned to duty. The first six weeks I nnrsed in Ward 15. They had seventy men, — the worst cases of typhoid fever. I sat up every other night, gave medicine, washed and fed the patients, etc. Doctor Knowles did not hke women, and ahhough the surgeon in charge put me there, he did not use me very well for a time. But he soon trusted me to give medicine and see to everything, and made me sit up nights, because he would not trust the male nurses. This was too hard for me, and the surgeon changed me to Ward 1 of snrgical cases. Autand was the name of the French surgeon who had charge of that ward. His Avatch- chain was hung with medals from the Crimean War. He had me assist him on his morning rounds, dress- ing wounds, and did not think anything was too bad for me to see. I had to dress four cases, each with an amputated arm, one wounded through the neck, two through the hip, and one who was wounded nine times, in the lungs and different parts of the lx)dy; yet he recovered, and went home at last. I was there when the battle of Gettysbnrg was fought, and did not have my clothes off for a week after the Avounded began to arrive. Emmetsburg, Iowa. KaTE M. DuXCAX. 4o3 454 OUR ARMY NURSES. ADELAIDE E. SPUKGEON. ALMOST before the echoes of the gun which marked the commencement of hostihties between the North and the Sonth had died away, Hon. Henry J. Raymond, of the 'New York Times, with that keen foresight which marked his career as a newspaper man, had formed the idea of organizing a band of hidies to proceed to Wash- ington to act in tlie capacity of nurses, should they be needed. Several meetings were held, either at the Cooper Institute or the Woman's Library, under the auspices of Miss Elizabeth Powell, who was selected for this purpose by Mr. Raymond. At the final meeting, many of those who were confidently expected to go, declined; their enthus- iasm, which had worked itself to fever heat at the commencement, having died out, and they decided to remain with the "home guard." Six names were called as they had been selected, and when my own, Adelaide E. Thompson, was pronounced and I arose (I being very slightly built at that time), a gentleman in the hall inquired what she expected to do with that little creature; to which Miss Powell responded, " That ' little creature ' is one of the reli- ables." On the morning of May 3, 1861, we boarded the train at Jersey City. It was loaded with troops on their way to defend the flag. Our progress was very 456 OUR ARMY NURSES. slow. At Havre de Grace V\ e embarked on board a steamer for Baltimore, thinking to hasten onr jonrney in this way, as it was expected the train wonld be detained some time at that place. I shall never forget that journey. The boat, which was small, was crowded with the roughest class of citizens of " Maryland, my Maryland," whose sole amusement was playing cards, expectorating huge streams of tobacco juice, and cursing the Yankees. A terrible storm came up, and, to make it more interesting, all of our party except two were affected with that ailment which must be felt in order to be fully appreciated; viz., seasickness. One other lady and myself escaped, and we w ere obliged to leave the close, dirty little cabin every few moments, to obtain a breath of fresh air; preferring to be drenched by the spray which washed over the deck, to being stifled by tobacco smoke. On the evening of the third day we reached Bal- timore, and proceeded to Barnum's Hotel, where every attention was paid to us; as the i-ails, which had been torn up during the riot when the Massa- chusetts troops passed through Baltimore, had not yet been relaid. The next morning an omnibus was chartered, and at about sundo\\m on the evening of our fourth day from ^NTew York, dirty and weary, we reached the Mecca of our hopes, Washington, then, comparatively speaking, a mud-hole, but now trans- formed by Xorthern enterprise and industry into one of the most l^eautiful cities in the -world. AVe took apartments at the Kirkwood House, OUR ARMY NURSES. 457 remaining there three days, and then removed to a boarding-honse kept by Miss Bull, a daugh- ter of Judge Bull, located on Twelfth, be- tween E and F Streets. But here a new trouble arose. Our baggage was somewhere be- tw^een Washington and ^ew York, but just where no one could tell; and all inquiries, both verbal and by telegraph, failed to solve the mys- tery. After all this travel we were with abso- lutely nothing except what VvC stood in; but at this crisis a good genius appeared, in the person of E. Z. C. Judson, better known as "Ned Buntline." I had knoAvn him in ]N^eAV York, and learning that I was in the city, he had searched me out. I must here say that some years before, when he was imprisoned on Blackwell's Island, for alleged complicity in the Astor House riots, I assisted him in hauling up the Stars and Stripes to the top of the boat-house, having been invited over there by him for that purpose. I sometimes think that people love the old Flag better since they have had to fight for it. Mr. Judson succeeded in unearthing the baggage, and Ave were enabled once more to indorse the decla- ration that " cleanliness is next to godliness." Our leader, Miss Pow^ell, then started out on a tour of inspection. The Union Hotel, in Georgetown, was being fitted up as a hospital, but was not yet ready to receive patients. The surgeon-general finally informed her that there was only one hos- j)ital open in the city, and that was the small-pox hospital; and as they could get no one to go there, a 458 OUR ARMY NURSES. nurse Avas badly needed. Miss Powell returned almost in despair. She related the situation to the ladies, but no one responded. One pretty little woman, the youngest of the party, whose husband was here in one of the regiments, declared she could not think of such a thing, for if she took the disease and got her face all marked up, her husband would never forgive her. It is but justice to say that she proved herself very efficient in another place. The oldest lady said she could not think of such a thing, for she had not felt well since she left New York, and she only felt able to read the Bible; and the poor fellows must be so sick that reading would only weary them. The others being of the opinion that " silence is golden," remained silent. To me, any- thing was better than inaction, and I volunteered my services. They all endeavored to point out to me the risk I w as running, and the hard work before me; but I was firm, and after a mournful dinner with my comrades' I took my little bundle of clothing, and, accompanied by one of the ladies, departed for the hospital. My friend bade me good-bye on the oppo- site side of the street, and with some little trepidation I crossed over and entered the building. I was met by the physician. Dr. Kobert I. Thomas, from Iowa. I handed him the letter from the surgeon-general, appointing me a nurse in the small-pox hospital ; and thus as the first nurse in the District of Columbia, on the 1 6th day of May I entered upon my duties. The hospital was a small two-story and basement brick building, located on First Street east, between OUR ARMY NURSES. 459 B and C north. It contained six rooms and a niediuni-sizcd closet, which was fitted up as a sort of dispensary. Tlie front basement was used as a dining-room for the steward, a rattle-brained South- erner, who had taken the place as he had nothing- else to do. The doctor remained but a few hours daily, and as soon as he left, the steward generally started for the city, and returned somewhere in the small hours, grossly intoxicated. The only other inmates who were able to walk around were an Irish woman, who pretended to wash the clothing, and another to cook. The cookins: and washing: were both carried on in one room, by means of a small stove, which one of our Yankee housewives would have considered fit only for old iron. Fortunately there was not much to cook. I say fortunately, because the old woman could not be persuaded that sick men did not like greasy food, or that broth would be more palatable without the huge piece of fat bacon which, in spite of all my remonstrances, she would persist in putting into the kettle. But one day the doctor happened in when the boys were being fed, and saw them put- ting the greater part of their soup into the cuspidors. He called her up, and in terms more emphatic than polite, informed her that if he saw any more such cooking he would throw it out of the door, and then throw her after it. This was too much for the old lady, and she stood out upon the order of going, but finally went. My first move after her departure was to consign 460 OUR ARMY NURSES. the laundry work to the stable, at the back of the yard. We had ])lenty of flour, and I proceeded to make up a large Ijatch of bread, which was greatly relished by the boys; but as- to the meat, — here words fail me. Never before, or since, have I seen such meat. It would have required the power of a Hercules to masticate it. The sugar was of the consistency of mud, and about the same color, and tasted more like salt than sugar. Butter was not to be thought of, and vegetables of any kind were out of the question. No dishes; nothing but tin cups and tin plates, and so few of them that the food of two or three men had to be served u]3 on one plate. There was no money. No hosjDital fund had accu- mulated, and the entire building was the picture of misery, with nothing to make the boys comfortable. Of course nothing could be done. For about ten days I did the cooking, in addition to my other duties. At the end of that time our old cook, whose injured dignity Avas somewhat more serene, decided to come back, and leave the bacon out of the soup, — as the doctor hinted that he might place her under arrest if the offense w^as repeated. At this time I determined to take a trip to New York, and get conti'ibutions from my friends. I accordingly applied to Judge Holt, who referred me to Hon. Edwin M. Stanton; who, in turn, gave me a note to General Mansfield. With some nervousness I stood before the old general at his headquarters on 17th Street. He looked up from a desk at which he was writing, and said in a sharp tone, "Well?" I OUR ARMY NURSES. 461 handed him the note from Mr. Stanton, and at the same time said, " General, I want to get a pass to go to ^ew York." '^ What do j^ou want to go to Xew York for? " '^ To get some things for the boys." " What boys? " " The boys in the small-pox hospi- tal." "Are you the nurse there? " "Yes, sir." " Get paid?" "IN'o, sir." "Volunteer nurse?" ''Yes, sir." ''Afraid of taking the disease?" '^^o, sir." He wrote a few lines, which he handed me, remark- ing: " AYell, you are a plucky little woman. Here is your pass, good for three days, and you ought to ride over any railroad in the country free of charge as long as you live." He shook me by the hand, and said, " Good-bye; don't forget to come back to the boys." That night, with a large, empty trunk, I started for ;N"ew York. The train was filled with soldiers going home; some discharged for disability, some returning from sickness ; one poor boy, crazy from fever, declaring that he could whip the whole Southern army, individually or collectively, if he was given half a chance. I returned in three days, my ti-unk well filled with needed articles; also a large box, and a bottle of powerful disinfectants prepared for me by Mr. Green. I found many additions to our number on return- ing. As the doctor did not come I placed a cot in a corner of his office, where I could obtain two or three hours' sleep during the night. I have passed many nights entirely alone in the building, except for the sick men; sometimes three or four bodies lay in the adjoining room, waiting for the morning light to 462 OUR ARMY NURSES. bring the undertaker. The first man died from blood-poison, caused by impure vaccine put in his arm before he left Michigan. The weather was warm, and before his comrades arrived to bur}^ him, the body burst. We Avei'e obliged to remove all the sick men to a tent in the adjoining lot, while the house was flooded with water. Every train that came in brought more ; and as they came pouring in after the first battle of Bull Run, we were obliged to take another house a short distance away. A large mansion was secured on what is now known as AYashington Heights. One of the convalescent patients volunteered his assistance, and we were constantly alternating between the two houses. It is impossible to describe the horrors of that long, hot summer. There was no Potomac water in the city at that time, and the pump near the house would become dry every few days. Then a new difficulty arose. The authorities refused to allow any more bodies to be buried in Potter's Field, as they were fearful of spreading the contagion. Three coffins were placed on trestles some distance from the house, where they remained a day and 2)art of the next night. Some colored men were then hired to carry them over into a gully, and one of our hosj^ital men held a lantern wdiile the graves were dug; and there amid the silence and darkness of midnight they were laid to rest. I believe some arrangement was made later by which they could again be buried in Potter's Field. I do not know the date of oui' removal, as I paid OUR ARMY NURSES. 463 110 attention to anything bnt the wants of the sick, beheving in the Scripture injunction, '^Whatsoever thy hand fincleth to do, do it with thy might." Time passed unnoticed, and I never supposed any of those things would be noticed, except by the i-ecordino- angel. '^ The same old laundry woman moved with ns into our new home, and died at her post from overwork; but the cook was replaced by a man. At last I broke down, and contracted blood-poison- ing, from which I have never fully recovered. The doctoi- ordered my removal, as it was impossible for me to be any better while I remained in that ])oisoned atmosphere. I went to the home of a friend, and commenced a course of arsenical treat- ment, which gave me gi-eat i-elief. I still held my commission as a nurse, and was sent for repeatedly, but the medical director thought it unsafe in the diseased condition of my blood; so I reluctantly abandoned the vocation I loved so well. I then entered the secret service at the provost marshal's headquarters. I was sent for one day by the judge advocate, who wished me to interview two parties who had been taken out of the ranks as a regiment was mai-ching up the avenue. I went into a back room, where I saw two boyish-lookino- persons in uniform. * After a short conversation they owned up to beino- of the gentler sex; but the deception was perfect. One was the wife of one of the men, and the other Mas engaged to one. They had traveled hundreds 464 OUR ARMY NURSES. of miles with the regiment, and would probably have gone to the front but for the rascally behavior of one of the lieutenants, wdio was in the secret. He offered some insult to the young wdfe, which she re- sented, and in a spirit of revenge he signaled the provost guard, and had them taken out of the ranks. They both wept bitterly, not only at the disgrace, but at being obliged to return to their homes, leaving their loved ones, perhaps never to meet them again. AVith some difficulty clothing w^as procured, and they wei'e sent home very much wiser women than when they left. I have not space to recount all of my adventures while I was in the service ; wdierever I w\as requested to go I went. Once I managed to get into the Old Capitol Prison, l^y order of a stripling army officer, but was promjjtly released on his being told by the judge ad\'ocate that I was entitled to enter any place of confinement in the discharge of duty. I kept no dates, but was given credit on my papers for two years. Before closing I will relate a little incident, one of the laughable things which occurred among so many sad scenes. One day I went into the Central Guard House, to identify some of our boys who had over- stayed their passes and been arrested as deserters. While there six Zouaves, who were the terror of the city, were brought in for some breach of discipline, and ordered to be shower-bathed. !N^ow, this shoAver- bath was no light punishment, the hose being about the size of the ordinary street hose. OUR ARMY NURSES. 465 A yonng lieutenant, who was sti'utting about in all the dignity of a new uniform and untarnished shoulder-straps, said he was going to see the lun. In about ten minutes he came out thoroughly drenched, and the most demoralized-looking man to be found. The Zouaves had overix)wered the guard, and turned the hose on the lieutenant. He had seen the fun to his heart's content. In conclusion, I will state that my eldest brother responded to the first call for troops at Kew Haven, Conn., WT-nt through the war until the army dis- banded, but died of consumption shortly after. Two sisters, one having two little children, the other a bride of a few months, bade their husbands God- speed, and never saw them again; while my fair- haired ''baby brother," as we called him at home, died from a disease contracted from infected clothing at Kewbern. They will all sleep sweetly in South- ern soil, with thousands of others, until the Great Commander shall order the last roll-call, and the grand army of this famous Republic shall hear from His lips the welcome words, ^^Well done, good and faithful servants." Adelaide E. Spurgeon. 42 H Street, N. E., WashinCxTON, D. C. 466 OUR ARMY NURSES. ~ --afap MRS. FANNY H. TITUS -HAZEN. 6i Oxford Stkeet, Camuridge, Mass. J WAS born in Vershire, Vermont, Maj 9, 1840. Lenox Titus, my great-grandfather, was a soldier in the Revolutionary War. At the outbreak of the Rebellion, in 1861, when the whole country was alive with patriotism, it seemed the greatest misfortune of my life that I was born a girl. My eldest brother, then only seven- teen, enlisted in the -1th Yermont Infantry. I went home to bid him ^' good-bye " and " God bless you." The people of the town gathered in the town hall to receive their citizen soldiers on the eveninof before the departure of Company K, to join the 4th Regiment. As the boys in blue marched through the hall, I would have given years of my life could I have taken a place in the ranks with my brother. Two 3^ears later, in 1863, two younger brothers, one eighteen, the other not seventeen, enlisted. I could not rest; it seemed that I 7nust go to help care for the brave defenders of our country's flag. I went to both Sanitary and Christian Commissions to go as nurse under their auspices, but the answer was the same, "You are too young." I also went to Doctor Hayward, in Hayward Place, Boston, who sent nurses to Miss Dix. He also said: "You are too young; it wall be of no use to send you. Miss Dix Avould send you right back." Believing if the wish of my heart was ever accom- 407 468 OL'R ARMY NURSES. plishecl, I should have to do it independently, I decided to go to Washington, and was soon ready. Thinking letters of reference might be of service to me, I received one from Rev. George H. Hepworth, pastor of the Chnrch of the Unity, West Kewton Street, Boston (whose church I attended) ; also one from Doctor Steadman and from Doctor Willard. Thus equipj^ed I went to Washington, the last of March, 1864. I called on Surgeon- General Hammond, who told me it would be of no use to go to Miss Dix, but if any sui'geon in charge of a hospital would give me a position as nurse, he would indorse my name, which would place me on record as a regularly enrolled army nurse. First of all I visited Armory Square HosjDital, in charge of Doctor Bliss. He would give me a ward as soon as the new barracks were built, each ward then having a nurse. Doctor Bliss sent me to Doctor Caldwell's, on the " Island," where Sanitary Commis- sion people, army nurses, mothers, and wives of soldiers could remain a short time free of expense. I remained at Doctor CaldwelFs two weeks. During this time I had an opportunity to go to the Demar (officers) Hospital; also to work in the linen rooms of several hospitals. The surgeons would tell me, " Miss Dix is the proper person for you to go to, but it will be of no use ; you are too young." How- ever, I went to Miss Dix; she received me kindly. I spoke of my brothers, — the eldest had given his life for his country, the other two were with the Vermont Brigade in Virginia ; that I, too, was most anxious to OUR ARMY NURSES. 469 serve my country by caring for the sick and wounded soldiers; told her my age, regretting that I was not older, and gave her the letters of reference. She inquired where I was stopping, how much bag- gage I had, etc. I said, "A large and a small valise.'' She commended the good sense evinced in taking so little baggage, and said: "Child, I shall not say no, though it is entirely against my rules to take any one so young. I believe your heart is in the work, and that I can trust you. I shall send my ambulance to-morrow morning, at ten o'clock, to take you to Columbian Hospital, there to remain in quarters till I send you to Annapolis. In the meantime you will be under the training of Miss Burghardt. I have so instructed Major Crosby." (She wrote while she was talking.) April 19, 1864, I went in Miss Dix's ambulance to Columbian Hospital, Fourteenth Street, Washing- ton, in charge of Dr. Thomas R. Crosby, formerly professor of surgery in Dartmouth College. Doctor Crosby asked me to take charge of the linen room; but nothing less than active work in a hospital ward would satisfy me. Miss Burghardt needed rest; a furlough was granted, leaving me to care for her ward. The ward surgeon, Dr. F. E. Marsh, of Michigan, will ever be remembered, not only by the nurses, but by all the boys who knew him; so l^right, cheerful and breezy, his coming was like sunshine: just a walk through the ward would make the boys feel better. Doctor Crosby, in the meantime, requested Miss 470 OUR ARMY NURSES. Dix to let me remain at CoUmibian, and on Miss Bnrghardt's retnrn gave me "Ward 2, left vacant by the resignation of Mrs. Knssell, Avhere I remained till Jnne 27, 1865, when the hospital was closed. My experience through that dreadful summer of 186^ cannot find expression in words. The hospital was filled in May with wounded f r(^m the AYilderness ; then came the battle at Spottsylvania, and June 1st the battle of Cold Harbor. From the latter battle- field my youngest brother was brought to my ward. At the time I was so rejoiced to see him alive, I did not feel sorry that he had been wounded. After each arrival from the front, all who could be moved were transferred to hospitals more remote, to make room for the next arrival from the battlefields; till at last the wards were filled with very 1)adly wounded men, some soon crossing to the other shore, others lingering for uiontlis, suffering untold agonies, ere the longed-for rest came; still others lived to carry, through life crippled bodies. Many were the letters written for those unable to write to the dear mother, father, brother, sister, or sweet- heart, and many the letters received witli thanks fi-om the absent fi'iends. The bodies of some were sent home for burial. I never failed to place by the heart of each silent soldier a bouquet of the florist's choicest flowers that the dear mother might feel assured that an earnest, sympathetic heart had ministered to her son. One young boy, from the Pennsylvania " Biicktails," was shot through the left lung at OUR ARMY NURSES. 471 Spottsylvania. He lived foni- months. The bulle- tins of President Garfield's sufferings were the exact counterpart of Eddie Mullan's. I often spoke of it during the dreary days of watching and praying for the restoration to health of our beloved President. Eddie Mullan had a most lieautiful and noble face; visitors passing through the hospital would stoop and kiss his fair forehead, saying, " For your mother." During the summer, June, July, August and Sep- tember, our heads, hands, and hearts were taxed to the utmost; so much to do, so many claiming our sympathy, so many to tell that soon they must answer the last bugle call, and cross to the beau- tiful shore. Then it was I realized how utterly insignificant were all my greatest efforts. I seemed like an atom, or drop of water; ten pair of hands could not do what one pair would willingly have done. Telling one l)oy that he could never go home, he said: "Why? I shall get well." I asked, " Would you be afraid to die '? " He hesi- tated, then said, '^ Yes ; " in a moment, " No. Does Doctor Marsh say I can't get well ? " I answered, "Yes." "Please pray for me." I knelt by his cot and prayed with him; he became reconciled. In the morning he called Doctor Marsh, saying, "O doctor, Miss Titus told me I could never get w^ell, and prayed with me just as my sister would! " Every night for the three weeks that he lived I knelt by his cot and prayed. There were many deaths at this time, ea?h one as the last hours came, saying, " O 472 OUR ARMY NURSES. please, Miss Titus, stay with me ; it will be but a short time ; " and, " You seem so like a sister ! " So, hour after hour, through those nights of death, I watched the life-light flicker and die of many noble men whose lives were a sacrifice for their country. Weeks seemed months, and months like years, that ages had passed since my hospital w ork commenced ; and yet the day was not long enough to finish all one would like to do. Later we had our bright days, too, when wit and song prevailed, and occasionally had time to make (as the boys said) " pies and other things like what we had at home." The boys would bring the tables from the rooms, placing them end to end through the hall, making a long table, where all the men able to leave their beds sat down to a home- like meal. In the spring of 1865 we had a boy. Sergeant Eli Hudson, of Sheshequin, Penn., a veteran volunteer, having served over four years, who was wounded in the left knee.. He had been several months in the ward. The surgeons had held many examinations; he was failing rapidly ; could not retain anything, even cold water causing hemorrhage of the stomach. One morning I asked, "What is the verdict, doctor?" He replied, " He can live but a few^ days at longest, and may die in a few hours." " Then, doctor, please let him have what he wants while he does live." "I give him into your hands. Miss Titus ; do what you please for him." The bandages were at once removed, as he had complained that they were uncomfortable. As soon as the patients were all OUR ARMY NURSES. 473 cared for, I went to a market garden and bought a head of cabbage. He had often said he wanted something green, if only '^boiled grass." When the cabbage was cooked I carried him some with cider vinegar, and fed him. He ate all on the plate, asked for more, which was brought, and still a third and fourth plate, till he ate the whole cabbage. From that dinner in May he began to improve, and the 14th day of June I started with Sergeant Hudson on a stretcher for his home in Sheshequin, Penn., as his life even then dejDended ujDon his diet, and such meals as he ate would make a well man sick. He recovered, but had a stiff knee. In the winter of 1865 we had but feAV wounded men, and the hospital was filled with sick men from Point Lookout. We needed lemons, cordials, farina, arrowroot, corn-starch, jellies, in fact everything, for the sick list had nearly every disease. The demand was such throughout all the hospitals that the Sanitary and Christian Commissions' supplies were exhausted. Pemembering what Rev. Mr. Hepworth said, " If ever you need hospital supplies, let Mrs. Bird, chairman of the Aid Society, know what is needed, and we will send direct to you." I wrote Mrs. Bird, who received my letter Saturday evening, and it was read in church Sunday morning. Before night three (3) large boxes were filled and started for Washington, containing $300 (three hundred dollars) worth of supplies ; enough not only for my boys, but 474 OUR ARMY NURSES. for all the wards of Columbian Hospital. The Aid Society also sent beautiful flannel shirts, socks, towels, and everything to fit out all my boys when able to return to the front: a mother could not more carefully have provided for a son. The girls of the Everett School, Boston, sent two barrels of books, throngh one of the teachers, Mrs. Emma F. W. Titus ; many of them new publications, })urchased expressly for the soldiers. After the close of the war the books were given to the chaplain in charge of the Freedman's Camp, as a nucleus for a lil)rary. Friends in Lawrence sent all the popular periodi- cals and magazines; also several leading weeklies. They were eagerly welcomed by the boys, and passed on from ward to ward. Miss Dix visited the hospital every month, calling all the nnrses to meet her in the matron's room. She always came for me, saying: "Child, go qnickly as possible; tell the nurses I wish to see them without delay." She was kind and thonghtfnl for all, but very strict in enforcing all her rules and regulations. She never wasted a minute, and had no patience with those who were slow. I shall ever remember Miss Dix with the warmest love and gratitnde, and with the greatest reverence decorate her grave in Mount Anbnrn every Memorial Day. My hospital memories are among the most pleasant of my life, — pleasant in that I was doing what the Master would approve : " Inasmuch as ye did it nnto one of the least of these, ye did it mito me." Mrs. Fanny H. Titus-Hazen. 476 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. DELIA BARTLETT FAY, Upper Jay, Essex Co., N. Y. )RS. DELIA BARTLETT FAY was one more of the noble women who gave ser- vice in our country's need on battlefields, in hospitals, and the Christian Commission work. She volunteered her services to the 118th Regiment, ji^ew York State Volunteers. Her hus- band, Willie Fay, enlisted in Company C of this regiment. They proceeded at once to Plattsburg, and were stationed at the old stone barracks, to await further orders. Their first move from there was to Fort Ethan Allen, near Washington, the object being to strengthen the defense of the National capital; there the regiment remained nntil 1863. The camp was called Camp Adirondack, as the men of the regiment were largely from the Adirondack region. The regiment did duty at all Government buildings ; the men also did camp and picket duty. From this place the regiment was ordered to Suffolk, where they engaged in their first action. Mrs. Fay was present at this siege, which lasted several days. Many a poor victim of shot and shell breathed his last under the tender care of this noble, self-sacri- ficing woman, sometimes just where they had fallen. She knew no fear of the rebel fire when her services were needed to hold up the fainting, battle-scarred 478 OUR ARMY NURSES. hero. Many were the tender messages intrusted to her keeping for delivery to loved ones at home. After the siege at Suffolk the regiment was ordered to Yorktown, and were kept on the move, for the jDui'pose of surprising the enemy and to attaek them from unexpected som-ces. About the last of June the regiment was again ordered to Suffolk, where the 118th and two companies of the 99th regiment had an engagement with the rebels, in which a large number were made prisoners. During all the marches Mrs. Fay shared the lot of the soldier, marching the same number of miles, carry- ing her load at all times, and sometimes the load of some sick boy, who would have been compelled to drop out by the wayside but for friendly aid; and as soon as camp was struck she Avould go al:)out the preparation of sick diets, to tempt the appetite of the sick and wounded. Mrs. Fay had great influence Avith the colored people. She obtained abundance of stores, which would have been beyond the reach of any other one of the regiment. It can be said of Mrs. Fay that her cheerfulness and heroism under all trying conditions gave life and animation to the homesick and weary ones. She was on one occasion detailed to go on a scouting expedition to locate the rebel forces. She was very successful, and rej^orted her information to the satisfaction of her captain. While the regiment was at Camp Barnes, near the city of Norfolk, they encountei'cd a stanch rebel, — Doctor Wright. He had repeatedly avowed that if he ever OUR army nurses. 479 saw a white man drilling the negroes he would shoot him on the spot. One day when he was on his way from his house to his office he saw his man. A lieu- tenant had been detailed to drill a company of negroes. The old doctor retraced his steps to his house and procured his revolver. His daughter asked what he was going to do. He explained in a few words. The daughter said: "That is right, father; shoot the dirty Yankee. They dare not do anything to you." He proceeded again to where he had seen the lieutenant, and deliberately shot him dead. Doctor Wright did not escape; he was captured not ten j^aces from where he fired the fatal shot, was tried by court-mai-shal, and sentenced to be hung in six days. While in prison a very clever piece of strategy was concocted by his daughter, which nearly resulted in his escape. The daughter visited the prison every day, always wearing a large bonnet, closely veiled. One day when she came out from his cell the guard thought he detected a change in her appearance. She had passed the first guard; there were two more to pass before she could be free. She had nearly reached the second when the first guard rushed up behind her and divested her of her bonnet and veil ; the action exposed to view the old doctor's face. After all hope of escape was abandoned, the daughter was married in the cell of her father the day preceding the execution. The next day he was led to the scaffold, the noose placed about his neck, then asked if he had anything to say. He said he had not, only that he did not regret what 480 OUR ARMY NURSES. he had done, and would do it again nnder the circum- stances. Thi'oughout the three years of her service, Mrs. Fay did her part as only a true and kind nature can do; and after the fall of Richmond, she, with her husband, journeyed homeward in the same steamer that they went to service in three years before. BETWEEN THE LINES. Between the lines the smoke hung low, And shells flew screaming to and fro, While blue or gray, in sharp distress. Rode fast, their shattered lines to press Again upon the lingering foe. 'Tis past — and now the roses blow Where war was waging years ago. And naught exists save friendliness Between the lines. 482 OUR ARMY NURSES. EANDMOTHER Ts'EAYCOMB was not second in many respects to Mother Bickerdyke. She, also, gave f onr years to the care of our wonnded and sick sokliers. Although not present in so many battles, she labored bravely for our fallen heroes. She tells us : " At one time while the boats were loading with wounded to go up the river, there was a boy who had his furlough and ti-ansportation, but when he applied for passage the captain refused, as he had too many already. The poor boy called out to me : ^ Take me, too ! Let me go home to die ! ' I ran down the plank to him, and in some way I got him ou the boat." How it was done is told in the following verses : — " Grandmother Newcomb of Illinois, Known to hosts of the army boys For nmnberless deeds of kindness done ; AYidowed at bloody Donelson. She took far more than her husband's place In the conquering march of the loyal blue, In deeds of mercy and motherly grace, To the blue-coats first, — but the gray-coats too. "Grandmother Newcomb of EfBngham, That July day, when the great boats swam At the foot of Vicksburg's yellow bluff', When the stars and bars had fluttered low, And the stars and stripes were fluttering high, And for one day there was glory enough, — 483 484 OUR ARMY NURSES. Grandmother Newcomb, out of the fjlow Of jubilant triumph, heard the cry Of one of her wounded soldier boys : ' Take me back to my Illinois ; Take me back to my home to die ! ' "Onward swinging, the huge boat's prow Slowly swinging, a moment more Had left the agonized boy ashore, In all the frenzy of wild despair. To die in this far, hot land of sands ; And his cool green prairies even now Stretching their myriad healing hands To gather, and shelter, and heal him there. " 'No soldier can come aboard this boat,' Hoarsely its sullen captain said, In a growl from the depths of his bearded throat, With an angry shake of his vicious head. ' Dying or living, you stay ashore. We have one load, and we'll take no more ! ' And at his command the long stage plank Slowly rose from the sandy bank, And, rending the air with a pitiful moan. The sick boy sank to the ground like a stone. " How she did it nobody knew, — And nobody knew it less than she, — But right in the face of the wondering crew, Right in the teeth of the angry mate. As the plank came up, she walked elate. Bearing the wounded boy somehow. In the burst of indignant ecstacy. Into the midst of the cheering crew. * There ! ' said she, as she laid him down, And facing the mate with a threatening frown, * You throw him out, and you throw me too.' " OUR ARMY NURSES. 485 "Cheer after cheer went up from the bank ; Cheers from the boats, crew after crew, As the great boat, slowly hauling its plank, Northward into the channel drew ; And happy visions of prairies bright, Happy visions for one of the boys, Taking his hopeful homeward flight. Under the more than motherly care Of the Dorian matron standing there, — Grandmother Newcomb of Illinois." 486 OUR ARMY NURSES. .-,* M. V. HARKIN. J LEFT Fond Du Lac on the 12th of February, 1862, and arrived in Madison the same day. The 13th I went to the State House, where my commission as a vohinteer nurse awaited me; and on the llrth went into a hospital, where I received my first lessons in nursing. My mother, Mrs. Sarah A. M. Kenna, and myself, with several other nurses, were attached to the 17th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, and we were all very eager to go to the front. While we were in Madison the barracks caught fire, and two soldiers were burned to death. In March we started for St. Louis. All along the line the ladies were out in full force to welcome us, and at every station men, women, and children vied with each other in seeing who could do the most for the soldier ladies. In Chicago they treated the boys to cake, coffee, and fruit, while we nurses were almost smothered with flowers. In due time we arrived in St. Louis, and as we went into Benton Barracks the brave 14th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry marched out, cheering us as they passed. How little the noble fellows realized of the fierce struggle in which they were about to participate! And how many who were now so full of life and hope, would soon lie low on the bloody field of Shiloh! In the meantime we were getting our hospital in 487 488 OUR ARiMY NURSES. order. Soon we had plenty of work, for the measles attacked the boys, and we lost several. One Fond Du Lac boy, Charles Daughei'ty, had the measles hi a very light form, and the doctor thought there was no danger; but the young man expected to die, and calling me to him one evening, said: "I am going now. I wanted to help my dear country in her strait, but I know it is ordered otherwise. Let my friends know that I died thinking of them, and of my brother Johnny, who is on a gunboat. He will never reach home. I am all ready, and willing to die," I told him that the doctor said he would recover. He replied: "^ot so. Go, now, and come again in half an hour." I went for the doctor, who at once saw a great change, and tried in every w\ay to restore him, but he was sinking rapidly, and in an hour he was dead. Another case that I shall always remember was that of a i)oor Indiana boy, "the only son of his mother, and she was a widow." Oh, how he strug- gled for his life ! He would say : " I cannot die, for who will take care of my poor mother? She is old, and she has only me." But in spite of our care the noble fellow died, after undergoing tei-rible suffering, and I wi'ote the sad tidings to his mother. At last the news came that there was every pros- pect of a fight at Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh, as it is sometimes called, and the 17th was ordered to be ready at a moment's notice. Our woi'st cases wei-e sent to the General Hospital, and everything was put in order. Then we were commanded to embark OUR ARMY NURSES. 489 for Pittsburg' Landing. There was wild cheering and waving of hats. All were anxious to go, and good-byes to Benton Barracks and St. Louis resounded on every hand. There was a poor old woman selling apples, and as she tried to cross the plank to go on board the steamer, she missed hei" footing and fell. Alas! there was no hope of rescu- ing her, for the great wheel dashed her under the water, and she was lost to our sight foi-ever. This event cast a gloom over us for some time, and to intensify the feeling a man walked overboard in his sleep the first night, and was drowned. Along the Tennessee shore we watched for a masked bat- tery, but, fortunately, we were not disturbed. When we reached Savannah we could hear the noise and fuss of the hospital that they had close by the shore. Here we heard of the battle of Shiloh. The next morning we sighted the Landing, and disembarked about noon. Our soldiers were detailed at once to help buiy the dead, the steamer Avas used as a hospital, and we were set to work. The doctors pitched hospital tents, also. Here we saw some of the horrors of war. There were wounds of every description, and many a brave young life went out on the amputation table. The battlefield looked as if it had been ploughed m deep furrows; for every inch, north and south, had been contested stubbornly ; and the white wood was laid bare on every tree, as if it had been peeled by hand. 490 OUR ARMY NURSES. After all of the brave dead had been buried in " their graves in company," and the gronnd made as clean as possible, we began to send ]N^orth those who were able to move; some to Padncah, some to Savannah, and others to Cairo. We had great hard- ships to contend against. There was great lack of hospital stores, and we were all on short rations. On account of the masked batteries we fonnd it hard to get supplies, and for one week all we nurses had to eat was hard-tack. ISTot one of us would touch the small store that we had for the sick, and we were nearly stai'ved at the end of that time, when a large steamer Ijrought an abundance of provisions, sent by AVisconsin for her soldiers. Then followed long, weary days, and night watches Avith poor suffering men. There was almost every form of sickness, and we had to do all the cooking, and we had to keep the soldiers clean and the hospital in order. Soon a sad time came to us. Mrs. Anna McMahon, a noble nurse, was taken with the measles. We watched over her with the deepest anxiety, for we felt that we could not spare one of our little band; but after five days of suffering she raised her lan- guid eyes and asked, " Have I done my duty? " The doctor assured her that she had; then with a weary sigh she said, " Good-bye; I will go to sleep." She slept, but it Avas never to wake. That was a sad day for us. We could not pi-ocure a coffin, but a soldier carpenter took some cracker boxes, from which he made as decent a one as possible. We wreathed it in flowers from the battlefield, and OUR ARMY NURSES. 491 buried her beneath thi'ee hirge trees that grew on the bank of the Tennessee River. A rude boai-d head-piece, bearing her name, Avas erected, and we left her there to take up onr work as best we coukl. As the weather grew warmer sickness increased. The water was not very good, and the men lacked such food as would keep them in good health. The ground on which they had to sleep, with just a blanket wrapped around them, was damp and reek- ing with vile odors, and it was no wonder that so many died. Could the 3^oung who now eye the old soldiers so coldly, look into the past, and see how they marched away to fight for their country and for unborn generations, could they see the suffering and hardships that were borne almost without a murmur, they would give the soldiers a larger place in their hearts than they occupy to-day. But it is beyond the comprehension of any one who was not actually present. We had moved about half way from the Landing to Corinth, when a call came for two nui-ses at the General Hospital. My mother and I went, and Avhen we returned, at the end of a week, we found Mrs. Thurston, another of our nurses, sick unto death. Many, many were the tears that we shed for her, and the soldiers, too, wei-e not ashamed to weep. May the sods lie lightly over her sweet face ! Sleep well, beloved friend. At this place the soldiers of the 15th Michigan Yolunteer Infantry had laid out a nice graveyard, and at every grave a board was erected, bearing the 492 OUR ARMY NURSES. soldier's name and regiment. Near this spot we had fonnd a young man who must have been one of the out&ide pickets at the battle of Pittsburg Landing, and been captnred and tied to a tree. We had him taken down and buried, but never learned his name or command. He was one of the ^^ missing." At Corinth things were much better. We had a large house for a hospital. It is wonderful how much quicker a person will get well when sur- rounded by the comforts of a home, although every day we were looking for a battle. Here I came very near making the acquaintance of a Southern prison. The troops were stationed about three miles from Corinth, and the little toAvn was all quiet. There were not many patients in the hospital, and no dangerous cases, so I asked the doctor's per- mission one day to go for a ride. He warned me not to go f\u-, as there was danger; but I was well mounted, and feeling that there could be no danger, I wanted to. enjoy my liberty to the utmost. So away I went, with my little orderly at my side. I soon turned onto a pleasant road, shaded with beautiful trees, and leading almost north. My horse was fresh, and eager to go, and we dashed on. At last we saw soldiers ; but they were our own men, and of course I was not afraid of them. As I flew past, as fast as my horse could go, I thought I heard voices calling, but paid no attention, and rode on for as much as two hours ; when I came to a large ravine, that cut the road in two. I stopped, looked down into the dark gully, then raised my eyes to the opposite hill. OUR ARMY NURSES. 493 where I saAv a rude farm-house, and a white cow grazing in tlie field. I thought I would cross the gully and see if I could buy a drink of milk, I had gone about half way down the hill, when at the bottom I saw five men in the well-known "butter- nut " uniform. My breath almost left my body as the foi'emost said : " Halt ! You are my prisoner." He walked toward me, and in another minute would have had my horse by the bridle. " I will die first," was my thought as I jerked the rein, and my dear old horse turned with a jump. "Shoot the spy!" they shouted. I was in truth flying for dear life. They fired three shots after me, but I must have gone like the wind, for I heard no more from them. When I reached the picket lines the little orderly was almost sure I w\as ""'gobbled," as they called being taken prisoner. The officer gave me a scold- ing, and told me how three of our men were killed thei'C a short time befoi'e. I found my father and mother very anxious about me, and I myself was almost sick with fright. Soon a soldier was taken with small-pox, and put in a tent by himself. My mother and I took turns caring for him. The poor fellow took cold in the tent, and became deaf, but recovered his health, and we procured his discharge. As the very warm weather came on my own health Avas poor, and my mother wanted me to go home. I could not go as long as I could stand at my post; but at last I was threatened with tyi)hoid fever, and as my mother was to accompany some sick to the 494 OUR ARMY NURSES. Xorth, she persuaded me to go with her, pi-omising that I should go back with her the next time ; but 1 w^as not able, and she returned to Corinth without rae; then went to Memphis, Avhere she did good work in Overton Hospital. Dear mother died Aug. 15, 1893. She was a member of George A. Custer Kehef. Corps, :N"o. 78, Ashland. Yours in F., C. aud L., M. \ . Hakkix. Marshfikld, Wood County, Wis. National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn. 496 OUR ARMY NURSES. MRS. J. T. RICHARDS. ¥(9TITEX the Civil Wai* broke out my home was lAl with my parents, on a farm in Southern /^^ Wisconsin. My name was Selener J. Bray. ^^^^ We had but one brother at home, and it was not nntil the second call for "three hnndred thonsand more " men rang out over the jSTorth, that my brother felt it his dnty to go. In those days the love of countiy was as strong in the hearts of the loyal girls as in that of their brothers. AYe were ]:)roud to do as mnch of their work as possible, feeling that thns we were helping to put down the rebellion. But all work grew into mountains in those troublesome times, and yet we wanted to do more to help save the country. It was found that not only could women care for the sick and wounded, but that they were needed to prepare food suitable for the sick. To meet this want light Diet Kitchens were organized, and two Christian women placed in each kitchen, with power to draw needed sujDplies from the Commission, and it was their duty to see that the food was well prepai-ed. The slaves were freed, and we had all the help required. My sister and I had charge of the light Diet Kitchen in McPherson Hospital, in Vicksbm'g, Miss. W^e went there in February, before the war closed, and remained until July. Our work before that was in Memphis, Tenn. There my sister was 498 OUR ARMY NURSES. very sick with fever. As we look backward, over time in its flight, and remember what we did, we are g-lad to be able to place our names among the helpers in our great Civil War; and if we did not tend the boys in the wards, we feel comj^ensated in knowing we made many of the poor, half -dead, exchanged prisoners feel ncAV springs of life running through their veins from the food we prepared for them. Yet many of them were past recovery; no effort could bring back the natural look from the vacant stare of that glazed, wondering expression in the eyes of our starved boys who came to our hospital in such large numbers from Southern prison pens. The average death rate for many weeks reached six a day — poor, starved boys! Their coffins were white pine, and many of their names unknown. Here Mrs. Witten- meyer had the superintendence of Sanitary Christian Commission work, where she nobly performed her part. I have always cherished with delight the thought that I had done something. Mrs. J. T. Richards. 206 Washington Avenue, Mason City, Iowa. [We congratulate Mrs. Richards upon the important part of her nursing ; no less a nurse because of her superintendence of the Diet Kitchen. — Mary A. Gardner Holland.] 500 OUR ARMY NURSES. MARY E. BELL. AVAS born in Hillsl)oroiigh, Highland Connty, Ohio, Jnly 28, 1840. I went from my home in Bellefontaine, Ohio, in September, 1863, to begin my work in the wai- at Covington Bar- racks, Kentucky. My husband, A. O. Hartley, was hospital steward, and I assisted him in caring for the sick of the regiment at that place. In ISTovember we Avere ordered to Munfordsville, Ky., and went into winter quarters there. A post hospital was immediately established, and I was appointed ma- tron by the surgeon in charge. Here the sick of these regiments, and also the sick and wounded who were brought in to us, received the most careful treatment. Everything was done that would add to their speedy recover}^ or their comfort. I had special care of the low diet for the very sick patients, but my care extended to all in the hospital. Many were the letters written for sick and dying soldiers; many the sad messages sent to bereaved ones at home. AYe remained there until May, 18G1:; then came marching orders, " To the front." The sick and wounded were sent to other places, and very soon the hospital that had been our home for months, was deserted; but, with other ladies of our regiment, I failed to obtain permission to go to the front, so I came Xorth, and remained until 1865, when I entered 501 502 OUR ARMY NURSES. the work again at Jeffersoiiville Hospital for three months. At Chattanooga, Tenn., on April 15, 1865, mj husband died, from injuries received in the service. At the close of my hospital work I was com- missioned to teach the Freedmen. I taught one 3^ear in the Fisk University, at ]S"ashville, Tenn., and three years in other parts of that State. Mary E. Bell. 7th New Jersey Infantry. National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn. 504 OUR ARBIY NURSES. j^-^. MRS. HELEN E. SMITH. ^RS. HELE^" E. SMITH was residing in Worcester, Mass., when the war l^roke out, and with many others did what slie conid to assist those wdio were taking part in the great struggle. In 1862 she had married "Wood- bury C Smith, wlio had enhsted in the 34:th Regi- ment Massachusetts Yohmteers, then in camp in that city. After the departure of the regiment for the seat of war she visited her home, and then accepted a position in the hnen department of McDougak- Hospital, Fort Schuyler, Xew York Harbor. Here she remained three months. In July, 1861:, she was ajDpointed as a nurse b}^ Miss D. L. Dix, and ordered to report for duty at United. States General Hospital, Hilton Head, S. C. She was placed in charge of the linen room until the matron went home, on account of ill health, when she was appointed matron, remaining in charge until the end of the war. In June, 1865, she joined her husband, Capt. Woodbury C. Smith, 35th Regiment United States Cavalry Troops, at Charleston, S. C, where he remained in the service for a year after the war ended. Mrs. Smith had two brothers in the war, also. Her present address is AVorcester, Mass. She is a charter member of George H. Ward Woman's Relief Corps, IS'o. 11. 506 OUR ARMY NURSES. Of her hospital experiences she writes as follows: It is difficult to select incidents, as every day was so full of joy and sadness, — sadness that we felt on thinking of the suffering of those around us; joy that we could do something to help the soldiers. One of the saddest things I saw was near the close of the war, when the " Andersonville Pen " was broken up, and some five hundred men who had been imprisoned there were sent to Hilton Head Hospital, to be clothed and await transporta- tion ]!^orth. How can I describe them? It is beyond description! Had my husband or my brother been among them I could not have recog- nized either. Emaciated, void of expression, clothed in rags, they excited not only the deepest sympathy, but also the deepest indignation of all who saw them. It was a fearful thing that they should have been so inhumanly, so brutally treated. They learned that we had some slippers at the linen room. The men were barefooted, and their feet were so swollen that they burst, and were sore with scurv} , so they almost fought for the slippers, as there were not enough to go around, and we had only small sizes. But the men would not be contented until they had tried to jDut them on. They asked for handkerchiefs; we had none, but we had several hundred print dressing-gowns sent by the Commission at home. Not a soldier would wear one if he could get one of Uncle Sam's blue and gray regulation gowns; and as the war was nearly closed OUR ARMY NURSES. 507 we should not need them, so we obtained permission to cut them into handkerchiefs for the men. We liad enough for all, and the day they were to sail they marched to the veranda of the linen room, and colored boys and girls gave one to each of them. And how that piece of calico was appreciated! It has been said of the war drama " The Drummer Boy " that the prison scene is exaggerated. It is not. It cannot be. Our surgeon in charge, Dr. John H. Huber, was a kind and true friend to the sokliers, always thought- ful of their welfare. So, also, was his first assistant, Dr. J. T. Reber, and the executive officer. Dr. Wm. H. Balser. It seemed like a family. The chaplain, Mr. Van Antwerp, of Pennsylvania, was always ready to do what he could to alleviate the physi- cal suffering or minister to the spiritual wants of the soldiers. One Saturday afternoon a woman came to my quarters with a permit to remain with me until the next steamer sailed. She was from Central ]!*^ew York, and this is her story: Word was sent that her son was very sick on Tolly Island. She wanted to go to him at once, and soon procured the neces- sary pass, l)ut there was a delay of weeks before she reached the place; then it was only to find that he had been sent to Hilton Head Hospital. When she arrived her son had been dead a week. Sick from the red-tape delays, and almost heart-broken at the loss of her boy, she was a sad picture to me; but I did what I could to make her comfortable. We 508 OUR ARMY NURSES. Fisited the wards, where she talked with the sol- diers, who strongly felt her motherly presence. She Avanted to carry the body of her son home. On Sanda}^ we drove to the jSiational Cemetery, and when we showed her his grave she said, " ]^o, no ; I cannot disturb him ! " and seemed content to leave him there in those beautifid grounds. In the winter of 1864 and 1865 there were betAveen two and three hundred rebel prisoners encamped in an open field a short distance fi-om the hospital. There were many boys not more than twelve or fifteen years old among them. So as the sick from this camp Avere brought to our hospital, it chanced that one little fellow, not more than four- teen, sick with typhoid fever, came under my care. He Avas delirious, and called piteously for his mother; so his nurse called me, and as I sat by his side he opened his eyes and exclaimed, "Mother!" then thrcAV his arms around my neck. I soothed his fcAA" last hours, and alloAved him to think that I Avas his mother. And thus such incidents might be multiplied. Only those who ha\^e had experience in the hospi- tal, or prison, or on the battlefield, can realize hoAv barbarous and cruel a thing is war. With the increase of liberal thought, and the broader A^iew of the value and responsibility of life, war between civilized peoples should be w^ell-nigh impossible. "May we never have another!" is my earnest prayer. Mrs. Helen E. Smith. 510 OUR ARMY NURSES. MOTHER RANSOM, OF INDIANA. THE SINKING SHIP, **1Rortb Hmerlca." J HAD been appointed aid to our physician, Dr. McCIintock, in charge of a large numl^er of sick soldiers, who were to be transported to their homes or to Northern hospitals. In mak- ing preparations I came to a poor fellow whose wan, appealing face touched a tender cord of my being, and I said, "Are you going to start North to-night?" He turned wearily, and said, " I fear I am too weak to endure the vo^^age, unless there were some one on whom I could depend." I said, " I may go." " Oh ! then I will venture," his face beaming" with gladness. The preparations were all made, and we sailed in the Government transj^ort " IS'orth America," com- manded by Captain Marshman, of Philadelphia. We started on the evening of December 16, 1864, at six o'clock. The ship was manned by forty-four men. There were twelve passengers, and two hundred and three enlisted sick soldiers bi'ought fi'om Dallas, Hermitage, Manning, and Baton Rouge, and four women besides the stewardess: one a lady return- ing from ISTew Orleans with her sick husband; an- other, Miss Fowler, with her brother; and one a passenger who had nothing to do with the arm}'. "We had pleasant weather until the night of the 20th. 512 OUR ARMY NURSES. We buried one of our brave soldier boys in the sea, little thinking that ere we reached ]^ew York one hundi-ed and ninety-four of our dear soldiers would find a watery grave. On the morning of the 22d, just off the coast of Florida, the steamer was i*e- ported leaking forward. Effort was made to stop the leak, but all in vain, and there seemed no hope. However, a soldier who had been a sailor before the war reported a sail. It proved to be the " Mary E. Lil)l)y," from Cuba, laden with molasses, for Port- land, Maine. She answered our signals of distress, and when she came alongside, the seas were so heavy the vessels collided, and for a time it was hard to tell which vessel would go down first. AYhen the vessels struck, one of our firemen jumped for the deck of the ''Libb3\'' and was lost between the vessels. The fireman and the purser were the only men of the crew that were lost. At five o'clock on the morning of the 23d the first boat left our sinking steamer. The vessel was pitching and toss- ing about, and I was so sick I felt I could not utter one word, but in my heart I prayed, *"' Father, if my work is done, and Thou seest it best for me to find a grave in Old Ocean's bosom, Amen.'' I pulled myself to the deck as best I could, having a life-preserver on over cloak and shawl. I was confronted on the deck with that large number of soldiers, all crying and praying, and there I saw the soldier boy who said, " If you are going I Avill venture.'' My dear soldier boys, God's power in the elements forbade me doing, oh! what my heart and hands would so OUR ARMY NURSES. 513 gladly have done. And they were taken, and 1 was saved, which for months seemed to me such a mystery. Those noble young men who had been disabled in our country's interest, they represented fifteen regiments, the greater part of them from Illinois, but some from the East, and fifty men of Scott's nine hundred, of the Eleventh ^ew York Cavalry. I asked Dr. McChntock, "AYho is pre- paring our sick soldiers who are in the steerage?'^ I knew there were six or nine unable to get up alone. He replied, " We shall do the best we can for the soldiers.'' " But, Doctor," I said, " who is helping them?" I did not then realize that two feet of water was at that time their winding sheet, which was the case, as 1 afterward learned. I can never efface from my memory that great number of men crying and praying on the deck and stairway. The second boat to the " Libby " had on board Miss Fowler and her brother. She had refused to go in the first boat with- out him. Eight loads were attempted to be transferred, but one which was manned by the purser and two assistants was swamped, and all lost. The boat I went in came near being swamped. Two men manned the oars ; a third gave the command, his voice so solemn and terror-stricken it was enough to pierce the hardest heart. The storm was so severe, and the waves rolling so fearfully, each word echoed over the sea and back into our hearts: "Row, boys, row, row, row ! " I can never forget the solemnity of that hour while memory holds her seat, those words roll- ing up from the depths of the ocean, " Row, boys. 514 OUR ARMY NURSES. row, row, row! " Captain Libby had a heart as large as a human l^od}^ could hold. He and his crew did all they could do in their cramped condition to care for so many. Fortunately for us and the " Libby '" a steamer from Hilton Head, bound for Kew Yorlv, overtook us on the morning of the 30th, and con- veyed us to !New York, arri^ ing in the night. Doctor McClintock sent me to the State Sanitary Commission, and as soon as they kncAV of the terrible disaster I had passed through, they presented me with fifty dollars and took me to the New England Rooms, a temporary hospital, where I was cared for as if I had been a princess. For wxeks this terrible scene was kept fresh in my mind by one and another inquiring for friends. It was almost beyond my power of endurance to recount that heart-rending- scene. Our dear soldiei-s on that sinking ship; one hundred and ninety-four went down w ith her ! ^ ' Shall we meet beyond the river, Where the surges cease to roll? Where, in all the bright forever, Sorrow ne'er shall press the soul ? " Mother Raxsom, of Ik^dia:n^a. 516 OUR ARMY NURSES. tH^ WK MRS. M. A. BICKERDYKE. J SERVED ill our great Civil War fi-om June 9, 1861, to March 20, 1865. I did the Avork of one, and tried to do it well. I was m nineteen hard-fought battles, in the depart- ments of the Ohio, Tennessee, and Cumberland armies. Fort Donelson, February 15th and 16th, was the first battle to which I was eye-witness; Pittsburg Landing, April 6th and 7th, the second; luka, September 20th, the third; and Corinth, Octo- ber 3d and 4th, the fourth. In January, 1863, we went fi-om Corinth to Mem- phis, and from January to October, 1863, passed 63,800 men through our hospitals. During the siege of Yicksburg I made several trips from that city with wounded soldiers to the Memphis hospitals. On the 2Tth of October I received orders to report at Chattanooga, and arrived in time to see the battle of Lookout Mountain, — that famous "battle above the clouds." I Avatched the dreadful combat until the clouds hid all from view. Li fancy I can hear General Hooker's artillery noAV. Our next fearful struggle Avas Missionary Ridge. This point Avas strongly fortified, the rifle-pits Avere closely arranged, and Avith the artillery belching forth 518 OUR ARMY NURSES. fire and death, it seemed impossible for our men to take it. The night before the battle was bright moonlight, and all night long the troops marched to their positions. In the morning they presented a solid wall of blue. IS'ever were men more hopeful, and yet it looked so terrible, so appalling, — that dangerous route np the rough and jagged moun- tain side. I was in the second story of the hotel. My duty was to receive the gifts from the soldiers to their friends, if, to use their own expi'ession, they ''bit the dust." These gifts consisted of farewell letters, watches, money, and any little things they wanted sent " home " if they never returned. The order to march was given between eleven and twelve o'clock. Amid the din and roar of shot and shell, and the commands of the officers, it was almost impossible to distinguish any j^articular sound; yet General Osterhaus's thrilling commands could be heard with startling distinctness. It was his artillery that sent the first shell through General Bragg's headquarters. The men mai'ched up that stony precijDice so rapidly that even the officers were amazed. General Grant asked, " Who gave that command ?" General Thomas repHed, " They gave it themselves." In one short hour that desperate battle was fought and won ; General Bragg was in full retreat, and his aimy closely pursued. Was not the ^' God of Battle " there? The Stars and Stripes floated from one end of Missionary Ridge to the other. Seventeen hundred OUR ARMY NURSES. 519 men were killed and wounded in the loth Army Corps alone. Our wounded were kept at the foot of Missionary Ridge five weeks, and then they were removed to Chattanooga in time for the coldest stoi-m on record; but none of our patients froze to death. The first of March found us in Huntsville, Alabama, getting ready for the spring campaign. Resaca, early in May, was our first battle, — and a bloody and hard-fought one it was, too. ]!^ow comes a constant roar of artillery for one hundred days, until Atlanta was taken, and many were the battles in this campaign. Kennisaw Mountain was where we dislodged Gren. Joseph Johnston. Then came Mt. Hope, Big Shantee, and on, and on, until the fall of Atlanta. Here we had the worst hospitals of the war. Kingston, then Altoona Pass, then on to Marietta, where, while the shooting of both blue and gray went on, in Sherman's army we had at one time twenty thousand wounded soldiers. The exhaustion and suffering of that Georgia campaign can never be told ! Here is where I saw General Kilpatrick and his seven thousand cavalrymen swinging around Atlanta, burning and destroying everything they could lay hands on, swimming the Black Warrior with the enemy close behind them. This stream takes its name from the Creek Indians, who, closely pur- sued, preferred death to surrender; and plunging into the turbulent waters were drowned: hence the name, " Black Warrior." But General Kilpatrick's 520 OUR ARMY NURSES. work was not in vain. Atlanta surrendered, and we, the army nurses, ti'eated the general and his worn- out troops to bread and butter and coffee. The surrender of Atlanta marked the close of my work in the Georgia campaign. Mrs. M. a. Bickerdyke. The work of " Mother Bickerdyke " is so widely and well known, that the above article from her pen cannot fail to be greatly appreciated; but realizing that one by one our comrades are ci'ossing the river, and that to the rising generation the Civil War is already like a half-forgotten story, aside from the lessons of patriotism it teaches, we have gathered a few of the details of this most remarkable woman's work, and re-tell them, hoping that a measure of her si^irit of whole-souled devotion to country and to sufltering humanity may find lodgment in the heart of every reader. After the surrender of Sumter her heart, which had been burdened with a mother's solicitude for the boys she had seen march away, could no longer endure the dreadful suspense, and the still more dreadful con- firmation of her fears that daily met her eye as she glanced over the crowded colinnns of the papers. Her clear judgment did not admit of her failing to realize the horrible sights and the hardships she would have to undergo at the front; but by the force of her indomitable will, the lesser evil would be lost in the greater, and she would unfalteringly tread the path of duty, outwardly unmoved by envi- OUR ARMY NURSES. 521 roiiments that must have nnnerved a less-determined person. Many stories have l)een told of the half-frenzied search for friends and relatives among the slain, Avhen tortured love lent an almost superhuman fearlessness that enabled the seekers to endure the strain of their ghastly surroundings; but perhaps no single incident in the life , of Mrs. Bickerdyke por- trays her large-heartedness, in fact the motherly care that she felt for the wounded soldiers, than the following: I Tlie victory had been gained at Fort Donelson, and the glad news carried with it great ]*ejoicing; meanwhile the soldiers who had won that victory were suffering more than tongne can rehite. Their clothes often froze to their bodies, and as there were no accommodations for so many, hundreds perished wholly without care. Mrs. Bickerdyke had witnessed her first battle with a courage equal to every demand. That fearful day was at last ended, and darkness settled over the deserted field, where the dead still lay awaiting burial. The night grew darker and darker. The strange, weird silence, after such a day, produced an inde- scribable feeling of awe. At midnight an ofiicer noticed a light moving up and down among the dead, and dispatched some one to see what it meant. The man soon returned, and told him that it was Mrs. Bickerdyke, who, with her lantern, was examin- ing the bodies to make sure that no living man should l)e left alone amid such surroundings. She did not seem to realize that she was doing anything 522 OUR ARMY NURSES. remarkable, and turning from the messenger, con- tinned her search over that awful field, actuated simply by her love for humanity. Many Avounded of the rebel army, who had been deserted, were the recipients of her care. As a mangled arm was being dressed for one, he felt instinctively the deep sympathy-^or his suffering, and said, " That arm would not have done such service if I had known what sort of people I was fighting." -^ Her work was varied: now on the field of battle: now on board a boat, caring for a load of soldiers in transit; now in the hospital; and now engaged in more general sanitary duties. Thus many phases of a soldier's life came under her observation. — """^ Often young boys found their way into the ranks, and it was infinitely pathetic to reaUze their position, and picture in imagination how they had been loved and cherished at home. Ah, how many of them to-day fill heroes' graves! One mentioned by Mrs. Bickerdyke was a boy about nineteen years of age, but large and manly for his years. During his infancy his mother died, leaving him to the almost idolizing care of father, brothers, and sisters. He entered the army a happy, half-willfnl boy, looking upon his position in the hopefnl, confident manner of youth. kSlowly, but surely, he was transformed into the grave patriot, ready to give his life wherever it should be needed most; no longer looking forward to battle, but anticipating his first active service with an ever-increasing self-surrender. He was at Pitts- OUR ARMY NURSES. 523 burg Landing, in General Prentiss's division, and when they were surprised, about sunrise, he was among the first ones ready to repulse the attack. Soon he was wounded, and while being carried from the field another ball struck him; but he had time to say, " Tell my friends that I died on the field." While the battle Avas raging, Mrs. Bickerdyke was attending an officer who had been wounded at Donelson, and could live only a shoi't time. Ah, how it thrilled her heart and awakened her deepest admiration to see how he longed to be with his regi- ment, when he had already given so much! And when it seemed that our men must be defeated, he cried : " It can't be ! Those brave troops will never siu-render! They will fight to the last, and conquer! Oh that I were with them ! " He Avas with many of them soon, beyond the tumult of war. Mrs. Bickerdyke did not see all of the horrors of that field, as her heart and hands were full in caring for the wounded. But in connection with this battle she has said : " The saddest thing in my experience was receiving their last messages, and little treasures to be sent home to their families when death came to relieve them from pain. Such cries as '^AYhat will become of my children? ' were hardest of all to bear." Yet few realized how deeply she felt for those around her, for she was so habitually strong and cheerful, inspiring others with the same feeling. One night she was making her usual round of the ward. The lights were turned down, and many of 524 OUR ARMY NURSES. the soldiers were sleeping, while here and there a restless snfferer counted the lagging seconds, and longed for the morning. Passing along, she minis- tered to each as occasion demanded, nntil one asked, "Are yon not tired. Mother Bickerdyke?" I^ot for a moment did she think of claiming sympathy, hnt replied in her usual brisk way: "What if I am? That is nothing. I am well and strong, and all I want is to see you so, too." In a few moments more she Avas at her place by the table, to assist the surgeon in an amputation; then received the patient into her own care; and as she gave him a restorative he whispered, " Take a mes- sage from me to my poor family; I shall surely die." How her heart ached for him in his weakness and suffering! But there was no change in her calm, cheerful manner as she replied : " jSTow do not talk. You are going to take all your messages to them yourself, for I know you have a splendid chance to get well."- Her only purpose during those trying seasons was beautifully expressed in her OAvn simple words, "I keep doing something all the time to make the men better, and help them to get well," and her name was spoken with gratitude by numberless soldiers. In September a battle was fought at luka. Here Mother Bickerdyke again walked over a blood- stained field to save many a life fast ebbing away for want of immediate aid. She deftly stopped the flow of blood from wounds that must otherwise have proved fatal. The numl^er of wounded swelled to OUR ARMY NURSES. 525 nearly fifteen hundred. The accommodations were crowded, and the wounded were sent to Corinth as fast as tlieir condition wonld permit. Mrs. Bicker- dyke not only went with them, to alleviate suffering on the painful journey, but did much to prevent waste. Owing to limited time and means of trans- portation, soiled clothing, and things that were not especially needed to fit up the place to which they were going, were to be left behind. But prudent Mother Bickerdyke had all articles packed closely, and when she saw that they were to be left, exclaimed in surprise : " Do you suppose that we are going to thi'ow away those things that the daughters and wives of our soldiers have worked so hard to give us? I will prove that they can be saved, and the clothes w^ashed. Just take them along;" and the order was obeyed. A mother kneeling by the cot of her son, who was scarcely seventeen years old, said : " It is no wonder that you are called ^ Mother ' here, for you treat all these men with such kindness and patience. I owe to you the preservation of my darling's life. Oh, it would have broken my heart had I found him dead!" With that thought she burst into a passion of sobs, and buried her face in the pillow. He smoothed her silver hair with one hand (he had lost the other) , and tried to comfort her. Such scenes aroused feelings in the heart of Mrs. Bickerdyke for which she could find no expression save in work. The large hospitals in Memphis had not been prepared in vain, and she was often seen among the 526 OUR ARMY NURSES. patients in the different wards, besides performing her dnties as matron of the Gayoso. She was always planning for more and better food for her sick boys. Fresh milk and eggs were sup- plied in scant quantities, and were very poor at that. She declared that it was a nuisance to pay forty cents a quart for chalk and water. She wanted something nourishing. Her plan was at first deemed impracticable, but after consideration it was conceded that her judgment was not at fault. The sanction of her plan was gained from proper authori- ties, and just as Spring was preparing to welcome Summer, she started upon her famous " cow and hen mission." Her object was to obtain one hundred cows and one thousand hens, to be cared for on an island in the Mississippi, near Memphis. The l)egin- ning of this mission was distinguished by more than one hundred crippled soldiers accompanying her as far as St. Louis. There was not one of the poor maimed fellows who did not bless her when she saw them all safely in a hospital there. As soon as she made her plans known in Jackson- ville, 111., a wealthy farmer, aided by a few of his neighbors, gave her the hundred cows; and as she proceeded, chickens were cackling all about her. She procured the desired one thousand, and her arrival at Milwaukee was heralded by the lowing of cows and the sprightly song of hens. She visited Chicago, where she was entertained by Mary A. Livermore, of the Christian Commission. It was a Sabbath afternoon, and the family were OUR ARMY NURSES. 527 preparing to attend the marriage of a friend; and althongh Mrs. Bickerdyke had taken no rest since her ari'ival, she preferred to join them rather than to retire. The ceremony was a quiet one, performed in the bride's home. A young officer in his bright uniform was the bridegroom: and when he intro- duced thfc^ white-robed girl as his wife to Mi's. Bickerdyke, she was surprised by his telhng her they had previously met at Fort Don el son. Then he reminded her of an officer there who had been wounded by a minnie-ball, appealing in vain to a surgeon to save his leg. She induced the surgeon to wait until morning, when it was found that he could recover without losing the limb. " I never can express my gratitude to you " he concluded. " You have been to me a mother indeed." She had accompanied the soldiers to Farmington, whence they removed to Corinth, to secure bet- ter accommodations. Here she established a Diet Kitchen and a laundi-y. The great bundles of soiled and blood-stained clothing were sent to the woods, where colored men washed them, superintended by Mrs. Bickerdyke. She rode a white horse, the distance being nearly two miles from camp. One of her best-known acts is an " interference " that gained for her the title of "' General." It was at the time when the Confederates attempted to re-cap- ture Corinth, and attacked the defense Oct. 3, 1862. The hospital work was so well organized that it could be done very quickly, and Mrs. Bickerdyke found some time to study the progress of the battle. 528 OUR ARMY NURSES. The whole action was rapid and concerted. The Board of Trade Regiment, twelve hundred strong, had marched twenty-four miles to enter the conflict, and only four hundred returned. The steady roar of artillery drowned all other sounds. Toward evening she saw a brigade hurrying forward, and learned that they had been marching since noon, and were about to join in the struggle. The officer in command was requested to let them rest a few moments, but refused. The men were passing the hospital when a strong voice cried, •'' Halt! " Instinct- ively they obeyed, and attendants began to distribute soup and coffee; meanwhile their canteens were filled, and each received a loaf of bread. " Forward, march ! "" came the order in a very few minutes, the time lost being more than compensated by the renewed courage of the men, who had no other chance to rest until midnight. Mrs. Bickerdyke had given the order to halt herself, when she found that no one else would do it, and her '^ interference " was deeply appreciated; for in spite of her efforts, many died from hunger and thirst during that battle. She experienced some difficulty in getting trans- portation for her stores to Resaca, but finally arrived while the hospital tents were being pitched. All around lay the womided, who, one by one, were being carried to the operating tables, by the sides of which were heaped those ghastly piles of human flesh. Turning from such fearful sights she began to work among the men, binding up a wound here. OUR ARMY NURSES. 529 straightening a limb there, and again bending to bathe a quivering, ngonized face. Thus day after day the fearful work went on, and day after day Mother Bickerdyke passed in and out among the soldiers, ministering to needs of both mind and body, as only a strong, loving woman could do. She had given herself unreservedly to the work, and to such a nature as hers retreat would be impossible. Sickness, sorrow and danger of every kind must necessarily come, but she would meet them as the soldiers did, — as obstacles that must be over- come ; for the path of duty lay clearly marked out before her and she could not turn aside. For herself she would accept nothing; if her boys could be comfortably cared for she was happy. She was a capital forager, and for the sake of the sick soldier she would brave any danger. She was once present at the Chamber of Commerce in Milwaukee, with the Ladies' Aid Society of the IS^orthwestern Sani- tary Commission. The President of the Chamber, in his blandest tones, informed the ladies that the Chamber had considered their request, but that they had expended so much in fitting out a regi- ment that they must be excused from making further contributions. Mrs. Bickerdyke asked the privilege of saying a few words, and for a half hour she held them enchained. She described in plain, simple lan- guage the life of a soldier, — his privations and suf- ferings, the patriotism which animated him to suffer and to dare without murmuring. She contrasted this with the love of gain, and such an excuse for making \ 530 OUR ARMY NURSES no further donations. " Yoii rich men are living at your ease here in Milwaukee, dressed in your broad- cloth, knowing- so little of the sufferings of these soldiers writhing in pain, cold, hungry, many of them finally meeting death, — and all that you and your little ones, your wealth and your homes, may be saved to a future republic. Shame on you, cowards ! " The Chamber of Commerce was not prepared to be thus rebuked. They reconsidered their action, and made an appropriation. Though Mrs. Bickerdyke was always neat and cleanly in her dress, she was indifferent to its attractions; and amid the flying sparks from open fires her calico dress would take fire, and was often full of little holes. Some one asked if she were not afraid of being burned. " Oh," she replied, " my boys put me out!" With her clothing in this condition she visited Chicago late in the summer of 1863. The ladies replenished her wardrobe, and soon after sent her a box of nice clothing for her own use. Some of the articles were richly trimmed, among them two nightgowns. She traded off the most of the articles Avith the rebel women of the ])lace for eggs, butter, and other good things for her sick soldiers. She was soon to go to Cairo, and she thought the nightgowns would sell for more there; but on her way, in one of the towns on the Mobile and Oliio Railroad, she found two soldiers who had been discharged from the hospitals before their wounds were healed. The exertion of travel had opened them afresh. They were in an old shanty, OUR ARMY NURSES. ^31 bleeding, hiingiy, penniless. Mrs. Bickerdyke took them at once in hand, washed their wounds, stopped the flow of blood, tore off the bottoms of the night- gowns and used them for bandages. Then as'^the men had no shirts she dressed them in the fine night- gowns, ruffles, lace, and all. They demurred a little, but she told them if any one spoke about it, to say they had been in Seceshville. Some soldiers in fresh uniforms waited upon her, one sunny morning, and tendered her a review. She smilingly consented, donned her sun-bonnet, and per- mitted herself to be stationed in a rude, elevated position. Then the fine old cows who had supplied them with milk filed past her. Each one had been smoothly curried, their horns had been ])olished, and their hoofs blackened. The favorites were decked with little flags, and a lively march was played as the -2-l ( W^-f^: 'OHX B. MARSH, a prisoner in Yicksburg Jail, had been forced into the Kebel army, and hi an attempt to join the Union forces was recaptnred, and condemned to be shot. Just before his execution he managed to get the fol- lowing note into the hands of a Union soldier : " If you reach our lines have this put into the Northern papei'S so that my father, the Rev. Leonard Marsh, who lives in Maine, may know what has become of me. I am to be shot for defending my country. I love it, and am willing to die for it. Tell my parents I am happy in the Lord. My future is bright." One of the guards said that after young Marsh was placed in position, he was told that he could speak if he desired to do so. Looking calmly over the crowd for a moment he cried in strong, clear tones, "Three cheers for the flag and the Union!" There was no response from the croAvd, Avho watched him with almost breathless interest, as, standing fear- lessly before them, he faced the muskets that in a few seconds of time should prove the key that would un- lock to him the doors of eternity, and shouted "Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" The volley struck him m the breast, and the beating of that noble, patriotic heart was stilled forever. 547 548 OUR ARMY NURSES. In that calm world whose peopling is of angels, Those I called mine still live and wait for nie : They cannot redescend where I lament them ; ]\Iy earthbound grief no pitying angel shares, And in their peaceful and immortal dwelling Nothing of me can enter but my prayers ! If this be so, then, that I may be near them, Let me still pray unmurmuring, niglit and day. God lifts us gently to His world of glory. E'en by the love we feel for things of clay, Lest iu our wayward hearts we should forget Him, And forfeit so the mansion of our rest. He leads our dear ones forth, and bids us seek them In a far-distant home, among the blest. So we have guides to heaven's eternal city ; And when our wandering feet would backward stray, The faces of our dead arise in brightness. And fondly beckon to the holier way." i^ »i