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I'~~~~~~~~~'~~ 
WOMEN OF THE WAIR;
HEROISM AND SELF-SACRIFICE.
BY
FRANK MOORE,
AUTH( R OF " THE REBELLION RECORD," " DIARY OF THE AMERICA
REVOLUTION," ETCH, ETC.'
FUustrat~W koitt setsz (;gig
~artf~rd, ~o,18.:
S. S. SCRANTON & CO.
R. C. TREAT, CHICAGO,  H. H. BANCROFT & CO., SAN FRANCISCO.
NATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY, CINCINNATI.
1866.
THEIR 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866,
BY S. S. SCRAXTOX & Co.,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Connecticut.
Electrotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry,
No. 4 Spring Lanes 
INTRODUCTION.
THE histories of wars are records of the achieve
ments of men, for the most part: the chroniclers have
had to record that women, by their intrigues or their
fatal gift of beauty, have been the cause of strifes innumerable; and it is confessed that they have inspired
heroism and knightly deeds, but they have had small
share in the actual conflicts. It has been their portion
to suffer in silence at home, and to mourn the dead.
For them it has been to hear of sufferings which they
could not alleviate, to grieve or rejoice over results
to which they had contributed only sympathy and
prayers.
It has been different in our Conflict for the Union.
Other wars have furnished here and there a name,
which the world delights to repeat in terms of affection
or admiration, of some woman who has broken through
the rigidity of custom, and been conspicuous, either
(mii)
, 
INTRODUCTION.
among armed men, like the Maid of Saragossa, or in
the hospitals, like the heroine of Scutari. But our
war has furnished hundreds as intrepid as the one, and
as philanthropically devoted as the other. Indeed, we
may safely say that there is scarcely a loyal woman
in the North who did not do something in aid of the
cause -who did not contribute, of time, or labor, or
money, to the comfort of our soldiers and the success
of our arms. No town was too remote from the scene
of war to have its society of relief; and while the
women sewed and knit, and made delicacies for the
sick, and gathered stores, little girls, scarce old enough
to know what the charitable labor meant went from
house to house, collecting small sutims of money, -the
fruitful energy of all keeping the storehouses and
treasury of the Sanitary Commission full, and pouring
a steady stream of beneficence down to our troops in
the field.
Everywhere there were humble and unknown laborers. But there were others, fine and adventurous
spirits, whom the glowing fire of patriotism urged to
more noticeable efforts. These are they who followed
their husbands and brothers to the field of battle and
to rebel prisons; who went down into the very edge
iv
l i 
ILNTRODUCTION.
of the fight, to rescue the wounded, and cheer and comfort the dying with gentle ministrations; who labored
in field and city hospitals, and on the dreadful hospitalboats, where the severely wounded were received;
who penetrated the lines of the enemy on dangerous
missions; who organized great charities, and pushed
on our sanitary enterprises; who were angels of mercy
in a thousand terrible situations. There are others
who have illustrated, by their courage and address in
times of danger, by their patience in suffering, and
by adventures romantic and daring, some of the best
qualities in our nature.   Like  the soldiers of  the
armies, they were from every rank in life, and they
exhibited a like  persistence, end(urance, and faith.
There are many hundreds of women whose shining
deeds have honored their country, and, wherever they
are known, the nation holds them in equal honor with
its brave men.
The story of the war will never be fully or fairly
written if the achievements of women in it are untold.
They do not figure in the official reports; they are
not gazetted for deeds as gallant as ever were done;
the names of thousands are unknown beyond the
neighborhood where they live, or the hospitals where
V 
INTRODUCTION.
they loved to labor; yet there is no feature in our
war more creditable to us as a nation, none from its
positive newness so well worthy of record.
It is the object of this book to gather and present
narratives of the services in the war of some of the
women who shared its perils, and ought to inherit its
glories. Their experiences are varied, and include
both sufferings and adventures, the narration of which
cannot fail to warm the heart and excite admiration
wherever they are read. They may be taken as representatives of the thousand others whose good deeds
are a crown to the national glory.
vi 
CONTENTS.
MRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
PAG
The Sacrifices of American Women. -Grace  Darling and Florence
Nightingale. -Faithfulness of the young Wife Gertrude. -Birth and
Parentage of Mrs. Ricketts. - Battle of Bull Run. -Rumors of the
Death of her Husband. - Visits, the Battle-field. -Experience with the
Rebel General Stuart. -Refuses to sign a Parole. - Remonstrance
of Wigfall. - At the Headquarters of General Joseph E. Johnston.  Succeeds in finding her Husband at a Hospital. -Scenes among the
Dying and the Dead. -Her Kindness to the Wounded. -The Death
of Prescott. - Removal to Richmond.- Honorable Conduct of Stone  wall Jackson.- The Prisons in Richmond.- Curiosity of the People.
-The Charity of a Magdalen. -Arrival of the Union Prisoners from
Ball's Bluff. -Captain Ricketts selected as a Hostagc.-Heroism of
Captain Thomas Cox.- The Exchange and Reurn to Washington.  Battles of Fredericksburg and Antietam.  Her Home a Hospital.  Experience in the Shenandoah Valley. - Sheridan's Battle at Cedar
Run.- At Danville. - Peace and the Return Home........        17-35
MIRS. MARY A. BRADY.
Birth and Marriage.- Her Motives for entering upon the Work.  The Meeting of Ladies at her Husband's Office. -The  Satterlee
Hospital at Philadelphia. - The "James River Fever." - Moral and
Social Restoratives. - The Battles of the Chickahominy. -How the
Wounded were cared for. -The Fair Amanuensis. -Soldiers' Own
Stories. -Letter of Joseph A. Winters. -The Thanksgiving Din ner.- Release of the Boys from the Guard-house.- Failure of the
Peninsular Campaign. - Pope's Retreat. - The Hospitals near Alex  andria. -A Snow Storm in Camp. - Almost in the Rebel Lines. -
Ghancellorsville and its Wounded.- The Extemporized Kitchen, and
what was done in it. - At Gettysburg. - The Gratitude of the Soldiers.
-The Reason of the National Success.- Story of the Empty Sleeve.
-Battle of Mine Run. -The Hospital at Martin's Ford. -Extraordi  nary Labors in the Field.-" Completely worn out." -The Fate of
Virginia sealed.- Mrs. Brady's Death..........36-o3
(vii) 
CONTENTS.
KADY BROWNELL.
Story of Captain Molly. - Birth of Kady. - Recollections of her Youth. Daughter of the Regiment.- Skill at Target Shooting.- Color-bearer
at Bull Run.- Incidents of the Panic and Retreat.- Her Companion
Killed.- Dangerous Journey in an Ambulance.- Return of the Regi ment. - Burnside's Expedition. - Heroic Conduct at Newbern. -Acts
as Nurse for the Wounded.- Sufferings of her Husband.- Unnatural
Conduct of a Rebel Engineer. -Anecdote of two Newbern Ladies. Spirited Conversation with Colonel Avery. - Opinions of the Flag.- A
Rebel who "allus was agin the war."  The Return Home. - The Cap tured Rifle.- Her Honorable Discharge.........  54-64
MRS. P. B. HURD.
A Story of Border Suffering.- Massacre at Sheteck Lake.- Fiendish
Cruelty of the Sioux Indians. -Death of Mr. Hurd and Mr. Voight. -
A Journey through the Wildern,ess.- Heroism of a Mother.- Battle
at Wood Lake. -Escape of Little Crow. -Execution of the Indians. 65-74
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE.
The Siege of Vicksburg.- Enters upon her Work.- Her Ancestry and
Family History. - Contributes to the "Princeton Standard." -Appeals
for Aid, and encourages the Soldiers in thq Field. -Incidents of
General Morgan's Invasions of Kentucky. -Jeff Davis's Thanksgiving
Day at Lexington, Ky. - Kirby Smith in the Pulpit. - The Hospitals
at Young's Point. -Labors there. -"Ain't she an Angel?" -Her
Transparent Purity and Beauty of Character. -How the Soldiers
loved her.- At Work in the Aid Societies. -Incidents of the Suffer ing Soldiers. -The Soldier's Song.- How much Salary she received.
-Knitting for the Soldiers, a Song. -Increasing Labors and Declin ing Health. - Returns to Philadelphia. - At the Episcopal Hospital. The old Negro Woman.- Death of her Brother-in-Law, Colonel Por ter.- Effect upon her Health.- Her Last Days and Death.... 75-90
MIRS. ELIDA RUMSEY FOWLE.
The Exchalnged Prisoners.- Effect of Song upon them.- The Rostrum
of Knapsacks. - The Erection of the Soldiers' Free Library. - The
Dying Soldier Boy. - " Nearer Home." - Incident of the Patent Office
hIospital.-" The Rebel Flags."- Sheridan gives "the Rebs Hail
Columbia." - Hospital Labors after the Second Battle of Bull Run.
Experience in the Amputating Room.- "Determined to accomplish
Something." - The "Unknown" Martyr. - A Hero of Chancellors ville.- Chaplain Quint. - Retirement of Home...... 91-108
viii 
CONTENTS.
BRIDGET DIVERS.
"Irish Biddy" joins the Michigan Cavalry.- Her Knowledge of the
Men.- How she cared for them.- Acts as Chaplain.- Her Work in
the Hospitals. -The Christian and Sanitary Commissions. -Under
Fire. - Escapes Capture at Cedar Creek. - Her Generosity to the
Wounded and Sick.- Personal Appearance and Character... 109-112
MRS. ISABELLA FOGG.
Inauguration of Hostilities. -Her Schoolboy Son enlists. -Discovers
her "Duty." - Labors at Annapolis. - The Fight at Williamsburg.  On the Hospital Boats. - Fair Oaks. - At the Front.#- "Just where
she wanted to go." - Mr. Knapp, of the Sanitary Commission.- At
Savage Station.- The Perils of Chickahominy Swamp. - Gaines's
'Nll. - Retreat of McClellan.- The March to James River.- Inci  dents. - Returns to Portland,. - At Work again at Antietam. - Gen  eral Hooker.- Burnside's Attempt at Fredericksburg. -Journal of her
Experiences.- Storm of Shot and Shell at Chancellorsville. - Heroic
Answer of a Wounded Boy.- The "Rest" on the Rappahannock.  "Independence Day at Gettysburg." - Kelley's Ford and Mine Run. -
Hospital Labors.- Liberality of the Maine Legislature.- Grant "de  termined to fight it out on that line." - The awful Price of a Nation's
Existence.- The Army at Front Royal. -Battle at Cedar Run; her
Son wounded. - The Christian Commission. - At Louisville. - In  jured on a Hospital Boat.- Close of the War.......  113-126
WHAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
Journal of the Labors of two Ladies after the Battle. - Sanitary Com mission Lodge. - Distributing Supplies.- The Journey to Gettys burg. -Kilpatrick's Figh. - The Dead Rebel.        -" N o    one to help." -
Clearing- of the Hiospitals.- The Extempore Ambulances.- Songs of
the Negroes. - Arrival of a Delegation. - Feed Rebels as well as
Unionists. - Tamarinds and Water.- The Gettysburg Women. -  Ex  tortion. - A Man who never saw a Rebel. - The Stupid Dutchman.
A Brave Woman. - "Tell her I love her." -The Dying Rebel
Lieutenant. - How Black People pray.- Blessings for Abraham Lin  coln. -Distribution of gay-colored Handkerchiefs. -A Crazy Man
in the Hospital. - The Wisconsin Mother. - Patriotism of the Boys.  "Red, White, and Blue."..............              127-14
MRS. MARY W. LEE.
The Union Refreshment Room at Philadelphia. -Labors on the Spal  ding.- The Crutch Brigade. - Scenes in the Peninsula Campaign. 
How she subdued a Selfish Sutler. -Death of Adams, of the Nine
/ 
CONTENTS.
teenth Massachusetts. - Dumplings for the Soldiers. - Anecdote of
General Sedgwick. -Mrs. General Barlow on the Field. -Willie
Morrow, the Pennsylvania Sharpshooter.- Hospital at Smoketown.A Mother's Love.- Henry Cole.- Dr. Vanderkeift. - A Case of "Pudding and Milk." - Explosion at Harper's Ferry. - Testimonials.Labors at Falmouth. - The Old Stove. - Storming of Marye's Heights.
- The "Towel Flag." - Care of the Wounded.- Incidents of the
Lacey House. - The Portrait. - At Gettysburg. - Aaron Wills, the
Color Corporal. - The Second Division Hospital. - The Love of the
"Boys." - The Battles of the Wilderness. - An Extemporized Kitchen.
- Cooking for the Army. -At the White House. - Miss Cornelia Hancock. -Rows of Silent Sufferers. -At City Point. -Death of Major
Smith. -Devotion of Colonel Crosby. - " My Country has had my
Arm, she is welcome to my Life." - Letter of Mrs. Bush. - "I Unsealing the Fountains." - Capture of Lee's Army. -The "Chorus of Victory." - A Visit from President Lincoln. - Mrs. Lee returns to her
home...............................                         148-169
MISS MAJOR PAULINE CUSHMAN.
Ancestry and Birth. - Becomes an Actress. - Her Toast to the Southern
Confederacy. -Enters the Service of the North as a Spy. - Adven tures in Tennessee. -Her good Fortune leaves her. - Captured by Mor  gan's Men.- Forrest's Friendship.- How she talked to a Rebel Gen  eral. - Woman's Wit. - A Visit to General Bragg. - Morgan's Adieu.
- Colloquy with Bragg.- Sentenced to be'hanged.- The Ruse. Arrival of Rosecrans' Advance - Is liberated by General Garfield. 170-175
MIRS. JOHN HARRIS.
Charity of Philadelphlia.-Dr. Boardman's Church.- Relief for the
Soldiers. - Mrs. Joel Jones. -Mrs. Stephen Colwell. -Ladies' Aid
Society.- Work at the Front. - The Potomac IIospitals. - The Sad
Stoyies of War.- How she improved the Taste of the Tea.- Scenes
in the Hiygeia Hospital.- The Carolina Boy. - Consolations for the
Dying.- The Young Alabamian.- The Chesapeake Hospital. - Bat tle of Fair Oaks.- On Board the Vanderbilt.- Fearful Surgical Op  erations. - "This is War." - Fight at Dudley's Farm. - The Heroic
Maine Captain: "Now go on, my Braves!"- Opinion of' " some
Army Chaplains." - Labors at Harrison's Landing. - Distribution of
Supplies to Soldiers. - Scenes at Antietam. - Sufferings of Meagher's
Brigade.- The Dying Hero.- "There is Rest for the Weary." -
Song a Comforter. - "I love my Country better than my Life." -
Thoughts of the Soldiers.- Filial Devotion.- Sights on the Battle field. -Mrs. Harris' Letters. -Their Effect at the North.-The "Val ley Forge" of the War. - General Hooker takes Command. - Labors
at the Lacey House. - A Sabbath in War. - "Bully Soup." - Opera
x 
CONTENTS.
tions after the Battle of Chancellorsville. - Miss Dix. - Gettysburg. -
At Warrenton.- Commences her WVork in the Western Army.- The
Conflict at Chattanooga. - The Poor Whites. - A Dark Picture. -
Heroism of the Wounded.- Sights in Nashville. -The Refugee Women.- Andersonville and Salisbury. - Conclusion.... 176-212
MARY E. SHELTON.
Is appointed Secretary to Mrs. Wittenmeyer.- Her Work at St. Louis.
- Stories of Helena. - Labors of Love.- Condition of the Sick Sol  diers.- Songs of the Soldiers.-" Just like my own Mother." -  Lib  erty Hix.- Mrs. Wittenmeyer's Labors. - Dr. Powell.- Journey to
the Big Black. -Hospital Sketches. - "Little Willie." - Amusing
Letters. - Sham Marriages.- The Swamp Fever.- How a Wicked
Rebel was frightened.- Heroism of a German Wife.- A Sad Death.
-A Suicide. - "Mother! Mother! Mother! "- Hattie and Charlie.
- A Good Woman. - An Affecting Incident.- Love for the Dear Old
Flag. -Mrs. E. P. Smith. - The "Ancient Mariner." - "Grapes and
Cologne saved me." - How Roses were Secured for the Hospitals. 213-237
CARRIE SHEADS.
The Oak Ridge Seminary. - Gettysburg. - Hand-to-hand Fighting. Lieutenant-Colonel WVheelock.- Heroism of Miss Sheads.-" South  ern Grit." - Devotion to the Wounded. - A Patriotic Family. - Con  clusion.....................'.........  238-244
MRS. STEPHEN BARKER.
Work that she did.- The Fourteenth Massachusetts.- What is to be
expected in a Hospital. -Fort Albany.- Sermons of Henry Ward
Beecher. - " Hospital Visitors." - Gratitude of the Soldiers. - Sys tematic Visits. - Wounded Germans. - The Letter Express. - New
York Woman's Central Relief Association. - Miss Louisa Lee Schuy ler. - After the War................245-253
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
The Young Wife.- Experience in Camp.- Marching Orders. -Cam paigning in Southern Missouri. - After the Battle of Belmont.- Nat ural Scenery. - Corinth and Memphis. - General Grant. - The First
Day at Pittsburg Landing. -A Desperate Case.- "The Rebels are
coming." - The Brave Sergeant. - A Scene of Terror. - A Woman
on the Battle-field. - "Mustered out." - An Uncivil Surgeon. - Dr.
Warriner. - Is commissioned a Major by Governor Yates. - Death
of Captain Swain. - General Grant and his Cigar.- Out in a Storm.  At Milliken's Bend. -Running the Blockade at Vicksburg. -The Sur  rander. - "Truce Tree." - At Home.........   254-277
i 
CONTENTS.
MRS. CHIARLOTTE E. McKAY.
Life at Frederick City. -Battle at Winchester. - Duties in the Hospital.
- Death of the German Boy. -A  Visit from Stonewall Jackson. Defeat of Banks. -Rebel Occupation of Frederick. - "Maryland, My
Maryland." - The Foraging Party.- Polite Rebels. - "Bound to get
to Philadelphia." - Antietam. - At Falmouth. - Mrs. General Birney.
- Scenes at Chancellorsville. - Labors at Gettysburg. - The Fight at
Mine Run.- Spottsylvania and the Wilderness.- Scenes and Inci dents. - An Heroic Mother.- Story of" Jim." - Scenes at Hatcher's
Run. - Unprincipled Men.- Gifts from the Soldiers. - Recompense.
- The Soldier's Grave. - On a Stretcher.- Life in the Tented Field.
-The Recruit's First and Last March..........278-306
THE BLOODY FLAG OF FORT PILLOW.
Massacre of Union Troops by Forrest.- Death of Major Booth. - "No
Quarter." - Brutality of the Rebels. - Scene at Fort Pickering. Speech of Mrs. Booth.- " Never surrender the Flag to Traitors." 307-313
MRS. MARY MIORRIS HUSBAND.
The Descendants of the Heroes of 1776. - Robert Morris. - Lives of
Self-sacrifice. - The Hospital at West Philadelphia. - Harrison's Land ing.- The Fights at Chantilly and South Mountain. - Testimony of a
Massachusetts Man. - An Affecting Incident. - The Dying Boy. - Let ters from the Soldiers. - Kind Words. - The Reprieve, and how she ob tained it.-"Valley Forge" ofthe Rebellion.- Moral Cheer. - Incom petence in the Army.- How to amuse the Sick and Wounded. - The
Groves of Potomac Creek.- In Pursuit of Lee. - Comforts for "her
Boys." - Her Legal Knowledge. - Intercedes for the Condemned. Interview with Abraham Lincoln. - The Guard-house. - Meade's Cam paign. - Ladies' Aid Society.- A Hurricane in Camp.- The Case of
"G. B." - Food for the Patients. - Grant begins in Virginia. - Death
of Sedgwick and Wadsworth.- Work at City Point.- Pleasant Fea tures of Hospital Life. - Capture of Lee. - Scenes in Richmond. Entry of Loyal Troops. - "There's Mother Husband! "- An Ovation
from the Conquerors.- Work at Bailey's Cross Roads.- Trophies
and Mementoes.- Satisfaction in being permitted to do Good. Home............................313-332
MRS. E. E. GEORGE.
Activity of Indiana in the War. - Sanitary and Christian Commissions.
- Nurses from the Military Agency.- Mr. Hannaman. -First As sault on Vicksburg. - Devotion of Mrs. George. - In the Midst of the
Guerrillas. -Journey from Nashville to Pulaski.- Accompanies She
xti 
CONTENTS.
man in Ilis Great Miarch.- Narrow Escape at Jonesboro'.- Siege of
Nashville. - At Wilmington. - The Prisoners from Salisbury. - Too
much Work. -Last Sickness and Death........  333-340
ANNA MARIA ROSS.
The Cooper Shop Saloon at Philadelphia.- Its Objects. - A Welcome
for every Soldier. - The Hospital.- Pleading the Soldier's Cause.  The Fair.- Establishment of the "Soldiers' Home.".... 341-346
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
Women of the War.- Spirit of William Penn. - Her Sons enter the
Service. - Mrs. Livermore. - Commencement of Sanitary Labor. -
Chicago Fair. -Travels and Lectures. - Address at Brooklyn. - los pital at Mound City. - "Turned for the First Time in Five Weeks." -
"They had to take the Fort." - The Suffering French Boy. - The Last
of Seven Sons.- An Agonized Mother. - Willing to die. - The Only
Child. - The Teachings of Youth. - William had gone Home. -At
Young's Point. - Onions and Lemons.- Home-made Gingerbread. -
"A Cup of Tea like Mother's." - All for the Old Flag. - The Story
of John and Mary. - Mother Bickerdyke.- "Bully Milk Toast."  A "Constant Woman." - Bright and Happy Boys.- A  Brave Wis  consin Boy. - Vicksburg stormed. - A Visit to the Rifle-pits. - The
Religion of the Camp.-" We can fight another Year."-  Daguer  rotypes. - Soldiers' Reverence for Women.- The WVar-stained Flag.  " Rally round the Flag, Boys! "- The Soldier's, Death....  347-372
MIISS EMILY W. DANA.
The Naval Academy at Annapolis. - Last Year of the War. - The Cruel ties of the Confederates. - Salisbury and Belle Isle. -Dr. Vanderkieft.
-Miss Tyler. -The "Mlain Stay" of the Hospital. -Songs and
Stories. - "The Beautiful Boy." - Starved to Death. - The Classic
Hero. - Martin Armstrong. - The Love of Jonathan. - Adams the
Nurse.- A Rich Experience.........      373-381
MRS. S. BURGER STEARNS.
The Working of the Commissions.- The Mission of Woman in War. Lectures in Michigan. - Visits to the Hospitals.- Address at Wash ington.- Schuyler Colfax.- Proper Sphere of Woman.... 382-386
MIRS. HARRIET WV. F. HAWLEY.
Her Husband enters the Service. - Indomitable Perseverance. - Visits
Beaufort. - Becomes a Hospital Visitor.- At Fernandina and St. Au  gustine.- After the Battle at Olustee. - In Charge of Armory Square
Hospital at Washington.- Incidents of the Virginia Campaign of 1864.
-At Wilmington, N. C.- New Horrors of War. - The Andersonville
Prisoners. - The "Jail Fever." - Exertions to relieve the Suffering.
xiii 
CONTENTS.
-" Starving to Death." - How the Chaplains worked. - Death of
Chaplain Eaton and Miss Kimball. -Terrible Sufferings in the Hospital. - Capture of Richmond. - Affecting Scenes. -Visits the "late"
Confederate Capital. -The Battle Ground of Five Forks.... 387-39G
MISS MARIA MA. C. HALL.
Secession.- Partisanship in the National Capital.- Birth of Miss Hall.
- Noble Aspirations. - Requisites for a Nurse. - Miss Dix. - Self sacrifice of Mrs. Fales. - The Indiana Hospital. -At Work. - Hos pital Transport "Daniel Webster."- Antietam Creek. -At McClel lan's Headquarters.- First Experience in the IHospital at Antietam. The Suffering Confederate. - Work at Smoketown. - Gettysburg. -
A  "Separate Command." -Miss Helen M.  Noye. -Mrs. Tyler. Andersonville and its Horrors.- Brave Men.......  397-408
MRS. GOVERNOR HARVEY.
Death of her Husband.- Pittsburg Landing.- Story of her Army Life.
-Extraordinary Labors. -The "Orphans of the War."... 409414
MAIISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
Early Army Experience. -Colonel 0. O. Howard. -An  Incidentof
War. -After Bull Run. - The First Patients. - General Slocum. -
Takes Charge of the Sick of a Brigade.- Old Aunt Hagar.- Powell
House Hospital.- The Death of Nichols. -Letters for the Soldiers.
-How young Davis was relieved.-"Doles  of Stick-to-him." Wrarrenton Junction. -At Yorktown. -Made  Lady Superintendent
of the Ocean Queen.- Companions in Good Work.- Misses Woolsey,
Gilson, and Gardner. -After the Battle of Fair Oaks. -Anna Eth eridge.- Arrival of the Wounded.- Conquering a Rebel.- Incidents
of the Floating Hospitals. - A  Painless Amputation. - Efficacy of
Milk Punch "Snifters."-The Soldiers' Home.- J. B. Abbott. "Camp Misery." - At Camp Distribution. - How she aided the Sol diers at Washington. - Death of Greenwood.- Summary of Labors in
Camp.- The Soldier's Journal.- Augur General Hospital. -Plan of
Work. -Testimony of the Officers and Soldiers......  415-452
MISS REBECCA R. USHER.
The Hospital at Chester, Pa. - Mrs. Tyler.- Co-laborers in the HIospi tals. - A Full-blooded Southerner. - Flogging Negroes. -A Touch ing Reunion. -At Petersburg. -A Stockade described. - Fruit and
Vegetables in the Army. - Bridget the Heroine. - Incidents of the
Hospitals. - "Too happy to sleep."..............  453-464
MOTHER BYCKERDYKE.
Labors in the Field and in the Hospital.- Work at Donelson. -G
ernor Harvey's Eulogium.- Arrests Surgeons for using Sanitary Su
xiv 
CONTENTS.
plies. - Grant fights on her Line. - The "Tin Cup Brigade." - She
Ranks her General. - At Mission Ridge and Lookout Mountain.Goes with Sherman in his Great Campaign. -H ier Labors on the
March. -,Irs. Porter's Description of her Work.-" She's a Power
of Good." - Gratitude of the Soldiers. - "Broiling Mutton without a
Gridiron." - Conclusion.................                     465471
MIRS. ANN  IIITZ.
Incentives to Deeds of Charity.- Germans in the Army.- The Little
Drummer Boy.- German Aid Society.- Incident of Armory Square
Hospital. - Praying with the Wounded. - A Tribute to the Young Men
of the Army..................               472477
"AUNT LIZZIE" AND "MOTHIER."
Lizzie Aiken and Mrs. Sturgis.- The Testimony of Charley Kendall. -
Woman's Love in the Hospital.-" Angels of Mercy."- Sketch of
Aunt Lizzie, by a Soldier. -"Home, sweet Home," and "We  are
coming, Father Abraham." - Mrs. Brake and Jenny Matheson. -The
"I oble Maggies."...............           478-484
MISS MARY E. DIUPEE.
WVork at Annapolis. - Rebel Malignity. - "Sunbeams." - A Belle Isle
Prisoner's Story. - Incidents. - The  Maine  Agency. - Care of the
Soldiers. - A Satisfactory Experience..........485-490
MAIRS. ELIZABETH 3IENDENItALL.
The Women of Cincinnati and their Work.- Celebration of the HIoli days.- Great Western Sanitary Fair.- Death of William Starr. -
' Beady to go." - Miss Elizabeth Morris and Mrs. Thomas. - Labors
of Mrs. Colonel Wright and others..........  491-497
LOYAL SOUTHERN WOMEN.
The Heroine of Cumberland. - How eleven Confederates were captured.
-Noble Act of two Tennessee WVomen. - Heroism of the Misses
Taylor. - Bravery of Miss Schwartz. - Miss  Oldom's Adventure. -
Spirited Conduct of Mrs. Phelps. -Death of General Lyon.- An
Instance of Self-sacrifice. -A  Loyal Richmond Girl. -The Good
WNoman at Rome. -Mrs. Hetty M. McEwen........ 498-512
ANNA ETHIERIDGE.- i (- I
Enlists for the War.- Battle of Blackburn's Ford. - Amid the Shot and
Shell.- Receives the "Kearney Cross." -Bringing in the Wounded
\' /      -A Narrow Escape. - Soldiers' Affection for her. -At WVork on the
Hospital Boats. -Testimony of Mrs. Husband and Miss Bradley. -
"The Heroine of the War.".............  513-518
i
XV 
CONTENTS.
MISS A. SHELTON.
The Nurses at Chattanooga.- Scenery of the Camp. - Miss Hagan and
others. - Delirious Patients. - Fights at Dalton and Tunnel Hill. Special Diet Kitchens....................        519-522
MISS GEORGIANA WILLETS.
Grant's Method of Warfare. -Scenes at Fredericksburg. -Lack of
Hospital Appliances.- Dr. Dalton. -Extempore Bedding. -Bricks
for Pillows. - Change of Base. - Removal of the Sick. - March of
the Wounded Brigade.- Scenes at Port Royal. - Miss Hancock. -
Noble Work of Mrs. Spencer.- Labors at the White House.- Mrs.
Price. - "Thirty-six Hours of Torture." - Close of the War.. 523
WOMEN AS SOLDIERS.
Effect of her Appearance on the Battle-field.......  529-_,
NELLY M. CHASE.
Story of the One-armed Soldier.-Battle of Fredericksburg.-" I-Ie's
not dying, Doctor." - A Life saved. - How the Wounded were Fed.
-The "Roundliead Regiment."............536-540
WOMAN'S SACRIFICES.                           /
Mrs. Ellet. -Story of the Pennsylvanian.-A Mother's Sacrifice. "That feels like Mother's hand." - The Women of the Prairies.   5413
MISS JANE BOSWELL MOORE.
Patriotism of the Private Soldier. - Reminiscences. - Leonard Wiggan.
-Incidents of Hospital Life.- IHaskett the Ohllioan. - Story of Ser-  geant Colby.- A Noble Mother..............     lo
/   ~.....
/~ ~~AIAY AOES 
SANITARY LABORERS.
What they have Accomplished. - Women's Central Relief Association. The Commissions. - Sanitary Fairs. - Soldiers' Aid Societies. - Penn
Relief Association.- New England Women's Auxiliary Association. Soldiers' Homes and Rests. - Conclusion........  571-5
xvi
I
i
1 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
AIRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
O  page in the history of the bloody war which has
just now come to an end is so brilliant as that illuminated by a record of the noble sacrifices and exploits of
heroic women.
The historian of other wars can point to affecting though
isolated cases of courage and devotion, but no annals are so
rich as ours in those deliberate acts of unquestioning selfsacrifice, which at once ennoble our estimate of human
nature, and increase the homage we pay to the virtues of
woman.
American mothers, with more than Spartan patriotism,
sent forth their sons to fall by rebel bullets, or to languish
in rebel prisons. Malny loyal women along the vexed
border, and within the lines of the enemy, exhibited a
more than human courage for the Union and its glorious
banner, in the face of persecution and danger.  In the hospital, and amid the stormy scenes of war, they displayed a
o                                        17
2
(17) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
heroism as brilliant as that of Grace Darling, surpassed
the charity of Florence  Nightingale,  and repeated the
humility and gentle sacrifices recorded of Mary  in the
sacred Scriptures.
Every one, thoughtful and true, must admire and appreciate the memorable conduct of the young wife Gertrude, of
mediaeval times, who knelt at the foot of the wheel upon
which her unfortunate husband hung in excruciating torture, praying for the wretched sufferer, whispering words
of consolation, and sustaining him with exhortations to
look at the joys beyond. "He had ceased to try to send
her away," says the historian, "and still she watched when
mornling came again, and noon passed over her, and it was
verging to evening when for the last time he moved his
head, and she raised herself so as to be close to him.
With a smile, he murmured,' Gertrude, this isfaitlzft4liess
till death,' and died." 
Mrs. HIemans, in her exquisite way, has given utterance
t o    this elevated sentiment of self-sacrifice in the beautiful
lines, -
"I have been with thee in thiine hour
Of glory and of bliss;
Doubt not its memory's living power
To strengthen me through this.
And thou, mine honored love and true,
Bear on, bear nobly on;
WVe have the blessed heaven in view,
Whose rest shall soon be won."
Similar in intensity and fortitude was the spirit manifested
by the lady whose name heads this chapter. More than once
was her husband mangled under the iron wheel of battle.
18 
IRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
Once he was reported dead, and his dying words and his
sword were brought to the agonized wife. But she overcame all obstacles, penetrated the hostile lines, reached the
side of his bloody stretcher, went into captivity with him,
and made his spared life and recovered health the monllument of her unwavering and heroic devotion.
The father of Mrs. Ricketts, Mr. J. Sharpe Lawrence,
was an Englishman of wealth, possessing large estates in
the Islalnd of Jamaica, where he met Miss Ricketts, the
youngest daughter of Captain  Ricketts, of the British
army, and Sarah Livingston, whose American connections
have been celebrated in our history from colonial times.
The father and mother of Mrs. Ricketts were married at
Elizabeth, New Jersey, where, after some years of migratory life between Englanld and the West Indies, they
decided to remain, and where their third daughter, Fanny
Lawrence, was born. 
Her education was principally conducted by that best
of all teachers, her mother, who brought to the delightful
and sacred task not merely the love of a mother, but a
mind of uncommon clearness, which had been admirably
trained and stored by life-long habits of close observation
and wise reading.
In January, 1856, Miss Lawrence was married to a distant relative on her mother's side, James B. Rickets, then
a captain in the First artillery U. S. A., and immediately
went with him to the distant south-western frontier of the
republic, on the Rio Grande, where his company was
stationed.
Here she remained with him for more than three years,
19 
WOMEN OF THE WVAR.
till that grand mustering of all the powers of the republic
to the long-contested battle-grounds along the Potomac.
Their life on the Mexican frontier was full of interest,
novelty, and adventure.   The First artillery was  often
engaged in repulsing the irregular and roving bands of
Cortinas, who  rode over the narrow boundary river in
frequent raids and stealing expeditions into Texas. WVhen
in camp, Mrs. Ricketts greatly endeared herself to the men
in her husband's company by constant acts of kindness to
the sick, and by showing a cheerful and lively disposition
amid all the hardships and annoyances of garrison life at
such a distance from home, and from the comforts and
refinements of our American civilization.
She was a spirit of mercy as well as good cheer; and
many a poor fellow knew that, if he could but get her ear,
his penance in the guard-house for some violation of the
regulations would be far less severe on account of her
gentle and womanly plea.
In the spring of 1861 the first artillery was ordered to
Fortress Monroe, and her husband, together with the gallant and accomplished Greble, who fell a few weeks after
at Bethel, carried on an artillery school of practice, where
the future heroes of the Chickahominy, and Fredericksburg, and Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg were taught to
handle, with fatal skill, the engines of warlike art. A few
weeks before the first advance under McDowell, Captain
Ricketts was ordered to Alexandria, to command a battery
of light artillery.  Mrs. Ricketts was constantly with him,
both here and while on the Peninsula.  The brave boys
were so accustomed to her presence at headquarters, and
20 
MRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
had so many cheerful and grateful reminiscences of her
graceful charities away on the distant Rio Grande, that she
remained with them until the eve of the grand advance in
the middle of July, 1861, when she was, for the first time,
separated from her husband by military rules; and while
he and the company moved on to Centreville, and thence
to "battle's magnificently stern array" on the plains of M1anassas, she returned, crushed with a nameless foreboding, to
her temporary home in Washington, to do all that woman
can when she sends her chosen one, and her other self, into
the untold and innumerable dangers of war.   She could
only do what thousands of others did- watch, and hope,
and pray, listening with heavy hearts to the far-off roar,
and grasping with wild avidity at every fragment of news
from the hotly-contested field.
On the evening of the 21st, rumors, and then messengers
came hurrying to her room, confirming the very worst fears
of an agonized wife.   Persons hitherto unlknown to her
called to give her the most harrowing, details of the wounds
her husband had suffered; and then his death was announced.
All these accounts she persistently refused to credit, clinlging to the mighty hope that nothing but absolute conviction
can quench in the loving heart.  At last what seemed to
be fatal evidence was adduced.  Lieutenant E. D. Baker,
then aidl-de-camp to General Franklin, brought her the
captain's sword, and repeated in her ears his dying words,
Give this to my wife; tell her I have done my duty to
my country, and my last words are of her and our child."
This was soon afterwards confirmed by the tearful sympathy of Captain Ricketts'  junior lieutenant, the gallant
2.1 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Kirby, who recited the story of his long but fruitless search
for the captain's body.  At this the agonized wife was
plunged into an abyss of despair, and of painful dclinging to
hope against hope, almost as heavy as desperation; and
this dreadful state lasted through two nights, when the
ling,ering flame of hope was roused into a mighty and colntrollilng motive, by a telegram from General Wadsworth,
stating that an officer, who met his flag of truce, informed
him that Captain Ricketts was alive, but dangerously
wounded and a prisoner.
Without a moment's hesitation, she determined, at all
hazards and despite all obstacles, to reach his side. Repairing at once to Captain (now General) Beckwith, of the
subsistence department, he procured for her a light carriage, drawn by two horses, and a driver, whose southern
sympathies were such as to make him more than willing to
pass within the rebel lines.  General Scott gave her a pass
valid to the extent of the Union lines, and thus equipped,
and wholly unattended, she started on the search for her
wounded and perhaps  dying, husband.   She drove on,
without material delay, till halted by the rebel pickets; and
she was obliged to remain lingering in an agony of suspenlse and doubt, till a note, written by her to the cavalry
leader, Stuart, whom she had known in sunnier days on the
Rio Grande, had been carried to him, and was returned
with the permission indorsed to advance within the southern lines as far as Fairfax.
Here, on learning the nature of her errand, he demanded
her signature to a written parole of honor that she would
not act the part of a spy. Notwithstanding her extreme
22 
MRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
anxiety- to avoid detention, she indignantly tore the paper
inl pieces before his eyes, replying, "I am no spy, but the
wife of a wounded officer, and will go as your prisoner,
but never sign a parole."
Ex-Senator Wigfall, of Texas, here remonstrated, and
some discussion followed, when Stuart rudely told her to
drive on at once. But she knew too well the difficulties
into which she would be plunged if she drove on as ordered
on a road crowded with rebel soldiers, or through a country swarming with exultant and straggling cavalry.
She knew the usage to which, by the rules of honorable
warfare, she was entitled, and insisted on being supplied
with a pass and a guide to the headquarters of General
Joseph E. Johnston. This request was at length unwillingly
acceded to, and she was soon face to face with the rebel
hero of Bull Run, who, without much hesitation, allowed
her to drive to a house situated on a part of the field still
crimsoned with the streams of battle, where her husband
had been carried.  What fearful and ghastly scenery now
surrounded this young and delicately-reared woman! The
first vision of that terrible picture was stamped on her
brain, to be effaced only by death. Corpses, swollen by
incipient decomposition, stripped of every shred of clothing, were sweltering all around, under the heat of a July
sun. In the court-yard of the house where she was informed that her husband could be found, lay rows of the
wounded and the dead. On the door-step, as she entered, lay
an arm, all mangled and bloody, which a surgeon had just
amputated and tossed down there as carelessly as though
it had been a chicken's leg; while under the window she
23 
WOM'EN OF THE WAR.
glanced at a fearful pile of human limbs, the accumulation
of two days' amputation.  The hall was narrow and nearly
obstructed by a large mahogany dining-table, on which was
lashed a wretched victim, who was writhing in almost mortal agony under the knife and saw of the operator. Blood
was over the floor and on the walls, and had spirted
from severed arteries, so that the very ceiling was spotted
with scarlet.
Passing on up stairs, she found six wounded men in a
small chamber, five ranged along the wall onl the floor, and
one, more pallid than the rest, very still, on a bloody
stretcher.  This was her husband!
At first he was unconscious, but at length feebly murmured inll her ear, "I knew you would come."
A  Union surgeon who was in attendance, and whose
unremitting and skilful care saved the limb and the life
of Captain Ricketts, Dr. Lewis, of Michigan, urged upon
her the importance of self-control, and the removal from the
enfeebled sufferer of everything calculated to excite or
alarm; and fiom that moment on, through all the anxieties
and sufferings that followed, she armed herself in a fortitude that seemed almost stoical and unnatural.
Though her husbanld's life was hanging as by a thread,
so that a little nleglect might be fatal to him, her woman's
heart could not resist the appeals that all night long came
up from the different rooms of that house of suffering and
of horror for water. She rose from the floor beside her
husband, and taking a part of the small supply that a surgeon had brought for his hot and swollen leg, from a spring
half a mile distant, she groped her way among the groaning
24 
MIRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
and prostrate forms, moistening their parched lips. Once
she was startled by the fearful announcement, made in a
clear voice, that rose above the groaning, "He is gone,
our brave corporal! The Lord gave and the Lord hath
taken away." This called her attention to the speaker,
whom she learned to be Prescott, of the Fourteenth Brooklyn regiment. He, too, poor fellow, was "taken away,"
but not without passing through a furnace of suffering so
terrible that he had occasion to envy the earlier and less
painful death of the brave corporal. His leg was hopelessly shattered, and was amputated above the knee three
times within a week; and then he was transported to Richmoud in a box-car, where the stump was so bruised that
the artery was opened, and he bled to death at last.
For two weeks Mrs. Ricketts remained with her husband
in the house where she found him. The means furnished
for rendering the sufferers comfortable -were of the lowest
possible order, and that, too, in a country abounding inl the
luxuries of old civilization, and within a few hours' ride of
the national  capital.   No food was furnished but raw
bacon and hard-tack, with some coffee and sugar, captured
at Centreville; no cooks, or facilities for cooking, the surgeons, after their long toils with the wounded during the
day, being obliged to bring water a half mile, and prepare
the food as best they could.
The effluvium from the battle-field was such that the
rebel camps were removed. Finally, the odor became so
intolerable that the guards left. Then appeared that loathsome curse and epidemic of army hospitals, gangrene, and
it was determined to break up the field hospitals, and
25 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
remove all the wounded prisoners to Richmond; and an
order to that effect was issued on the 3d of August.
Captain Ricketts' wounds were more dangerous, and his
situation more critical, in the early part of August, when
he was removed to Richmond, than at any time since the
battle.  He had been hit in three places; but the woulnd
which gave him the greatest pain, and which for weeks
rendered his recovery doubtfill, was from a ball that had
entered his left leg, near the knee joint, shattering the
bone, and followed by such pain and swelling, that mortification was constantly feared.
So great was the danger from this latter source, that
twice Mrs. Ricketts had expostulated, with all the earnestness of woman, with the surgeons, who insisted that amputation was absolutely necessary.  But considering the heat
of the season, the discomforts and privations under which
he was suffering, and the amount of corruption and the
gangrene which abounded among all the wounded, she was
satisfied that his chances of recovery would not be improved
by the dreaded operation.
In the removal to Richmond Mrs. Ricketts was able to
secure for him a hospital car, instead of the rude box cars,
which gave fatal jolts to many a poor fellow who might
otherwise have recovered.
In praiseworthy contrast to the rudeness and ilndifference
generally manifested by the rebel officers, and the insults
of rebel women heaped upon them at the different stations,
the conduct of Wrade Hampton, and of Stonewall Jackson,
and of Major Webb, of North Carolina, was considerate and
generous. Colonel Hampton brought ale and refreshments
26 
MRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
to the wounded officer and his heroic wife; and months
after, Mrs. Ricketts was able to repay the civilities of Major
Webb, by procuring his pardon and release from Johnson's
Island, where he was confined as a prisoner.
Notwithstanding the sea of horrors into which this devoted pair had been plunged by the results of the battle,
and the ghastly surroundings of the battle-field, where
they had remained for two weeks, they found their situation
worse, if possible, in Richmond.
The wounded prisoners were taken to the city poorhouse.   Crowded into those dreary and cheerless rooms,
between bare brick walls and the roof uneeiled, these sufferers lay on the dirty floors, and pined, and languished,
and felt hope and life die out in their breasts, when comfortable surroundings mnight have saved most of them.
The fare was coarse and unpalatable to the last degree,
even to persons in health, and utterly  revolting to the
patients, whose systems were reduced by loss of blood and
by the nervous prostration of unceasing pain. Captain
Ricketts grew worse, and the gloomiest forebodings pressed
like lead upon the brave heart of the heroic wife.  Again
the surg,eons consulted over his dreadfully swollen leg, and
prescribed amputation; and again it was spared to the
entreaties of his wife, whio was certain that his now greatly
enfeebled constitution would not survive the shock.  Much
of the time he lay unconscious, and for weeks  his life
depended entirely on the unitiring patience and skill with
which his wvife soothed down the rudeness of his prisonhouse,  cheering him  and other prisoners who  were so
fortunate as to be in the room with him, and alleviating
the slow misery that was settling like a pall upon them.
27 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Yet none of the prisoners, at least in the daytime, had
the luxury of being private in their sorrow.  At all hours
crowds of curious and listless gazers were permitted to
come and feast upon this spectacle of suffering, as though
these wvounded officers and the solitary woman that was
sharing their prison life were savages caught in the act of
cannibalism in the Feejee Islands.
The daily papers of the city were constantly pandering
to this savage taste, by suggesting greater cruelty and
worse hardships as the proper desert of men who had
"polluted the sacred soil of Virginia by the foot of the
invader."
To the credit, however, of some whose public acts were
thoroughly disunion, it must be admitted that in private
they discharged some of the duties of humanity towards
these wounded prisoners.  The wife of Adjutant-General
Cooper and the sister of James M. Mason, both repeatedly
sent M\irs. Ricketts and her husband baskets of delicate and
palatable food; and both these ladies, in defiance of the
bitter and vulgar prejudice which was nourished by the
daily press, paid them visits of respect, and manifested a
womanly kindness and regard.
There was also, in the lower walks of life, a touching
instance of womanly sympathy which deserves respectful
mention, even as the charity of Mary Magdalene has been
forever rescued from oblivion by the pen of the sacred
historian.
There was a woman who had formerly lived in New
York, and at that time was living with a well-known gambler in Richmond, who daily and regularly ministered to
28 
MRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
these unfortunate prisoners, until at length her kindness
came to the ears of the officials, who forbade her sending
them any more food.  But, with the wit and perseverance
of a woman, she at length obtained such a modification of
the order as would allow her once a week to send a basket
to Mrs. Ricketts.  This basket, which came each Sabbath
morning, was packed with the most substantial viands, and
gave Mrs. Ricketts the pleasure of providing her husband,
who had now commenced slowly to recover, with food that
he could relish, and, with the rest, broke, at least for one
day, the dreary and tasteless monotony of prison faire.
But the abyss of wretchedness was  not sounded yet.
Nearly three months of imprisonment had elapsed while
these suffering patriots were languishing, yet hopin, that
the great republic, in whose invincible might and perpetual
integrity they never lost confidence, would turn ulpon her
enemies, and burst their prison doors,with a grand and
decisive victory.  But, in the last days of October, they
heard the tramp of the prisoners taken at Ball's Bluff passing, through the streets of Richmond, and the jeers and
taunts of the rebel mob that followed at their heels.
There now came an order breaking up the little group
of fellow-sufferers, whose sorrows had united them in a
deep, though sombre friendship. Colonel Willcox, who
was now nearly well of a terrible wound in the arm, was
sent to Charleston, and the other convalescents were to be
confined in Libby Prison.  Soon after this removal to that
abode of nameless horror, that has since become famous in
its infamy, Mrs. Ricketts was reclining at night upon the
narrow cot beside her husband's stretcher, when she heard
29 
WOMEN OF THE WVAR.
the voice of a messenger beside her, who stood there in the
darkness, and coolly announced that Captain Ricketts had
been selected as one of the thirteen officers of highest rank
in possession of the Confederate government, as hostages
for the thirteen privateersmen held in New York.  He was
to go to the condemned cell, and be liable at any moment to
execution, whenever the rebel government might learn of
the execution of their imprisoned sailors. Conceive the
mental suffering of that devoted wife during the long hours
of that dreadful night!
After four months of untold suffering, and having much
of the time hung insensible on the verge of life, he was
now beginning to gain strength, and with fair treatment
might live and be strong again.  But on the morrow he
was to be carried away from her, and beyond all her ministrations or visits, and locked in the felon's cell- a dungeon
reserved for prisoners convicted of infamous crimes, and
liable any day to be dragged out to a cruel death.
But Mrs. Ricketts was not a woman to yield to a disaster
so appalling without using every possible means to avert
the blow.  In Mrs. Cooper she thought she had a friend
whose husband had influence at rebel headquarters, and as
soon as daylight enabled her to trace the lines, she composed a letter, such as only such a wife could write in such
a crisis. Mrs. Cooper was moved, and the rebel secretary,
who on the 11th of November had issued the fearful order
that included Captain Ricketts, on the 12th instructed
General Winder that "all the wounded officers had been
exempted as hostages." The motive which Mrs. Cooper
brought to bear upon his mind was not any suggestion of
30 
MRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
humanity, but the fear that such cruelty to wounded officers
might damage the fair name of the Confederacy in the eyes
of the people of Europe.
When the name of Captain Ricketts was first read, there
occurred one of those instances of prompt and manly selfsacrifice, that elevate our estimate of human nature, and
deserves record and perpetual remembrance.   Captain
Thomas Cox, of the first ICentucky volunteers, exclaimed
at once, " IlVat, that wotunded   an, attended by such a
devoted wife?  Let one go in h1is8oplacel"
The constant draught upon the vital powers made by such
a long series of watchings, sufferings, and by anxiety so acute
and agonlizing, at length began to appear in the shattered
health of Mrs. Ricketts; and permission was asked, and,
after long delay, granted, for her to drive out daily, and
for a little while to breathe air purer than that of Libby
Prison.
But before this little boon could be of any practical
advantage, the exchanged officer arrived in Richmond, and
the pallid but now convalescent invalid dragged his still
painful limb across the threshold of Libby Prison, and with
his heroic wife took the first train for Fairfax.   It was
now  the last week of December,  1861.  Some months
elapsed before Mrs. Ricketts recovered her health; but
Captain Ricketts recovered very rapidly, and had the satisfaction of knowing that government recognized his services
and his sufferings; for in the spring of 1862 he received the
commission of a brigadier-general,  and was assigned to
duty  in  McDowell's  corps,  at  Fredericksburg.   Mrs.
Ricketts remained with hirn for some months that followed,
31 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
until, in the fall of 1862, when campaigningo against Jackson
in the Valley, General Ricketts  commanded the second
division first army corps, and the corps being constantly
on the march or in battle, she was obliged to retire for a
few weeks to her home in Washington.
But Antietam gave him back to her society again, as Bull
Run had the year before, though not under circumstances
quite so painful.  He was wounded in the same leg as in
the former battle, by his horse being shot and rolling uponl
him. The injury thus occasioned confined himn during the
fall of 1862, and in the winter of 1862-'63 he was on duty
at Washington, as president of the military commission.
WThen the battle at Chancellorsville was fought, in May,
1863, Lieutenant Kirby, who had been a brother officer
with General Ricketts when both were in the First artillery,
was brought to Washington in a very feeble state, having
suffered the amputation of a limb., The poor fellow was
carried to the general's house in Washington, where Mrs.
Ricketts took care of him with that patient kindness which
is so unspeakably grateful to a sufferer.  But care and skill
could not save him. He did not live to read his commission as brigadier. Other officers and sufferers of every
grade now claimed her attention, for Gettysburg soon
followed; and during all that summer and fall she continued
her labors among those who seemed most to require her
attentions, her husband having recovered his health and
returned to participate in all the battles in which his corps
was engaged.
In the summer of 1864, when Grant advanced on Richmond, General Ricketts distinguished himself greatly in
32 
MRS. FANNY RICKETTS.
the battle of Cold Harbor, and received the public thanks
of General Meade; and, a few weeks after, his division
fought the battle of Monocacy, the effect of which was to
delay the last rebel invasion, and give the Union troops
time to concentrate for the final repulse of Ewell from
Maryland.
Soon after, in September, 1864, the Sixth corps went up
the Shenandoah Valley with Sheridan, and in October the
battle of Cedar Run was fought; and there General Ricketts
received his third serious wound, which came nearer being
fatal than any former injury.  A  ball pierced his right
breast, and the report came to Washington that his wound
was mortal.  His wife's fidelity, and the story of her sufferings at Richmond, had become known to government, and she
obtained not only a pass, but a mounted escort, who went
with her up the valley, to protect her from the attacks of
Mosby's guerrillas, who were swarming, everywhere in the
rear of the battle-field.  She found General Ricketts far
more comfortably situated than on that memorable occasion
three years before. The ball had been extracted; but the
nature and situation of the wound rendered his recovery
a long, time doubtful, and for four anxious  and weary
months she was hanging over his couch, and doing everything that love and skill could suggest to save a life that
had now become doubly precious to her for the sufferings
and the anxieties which had been devolved upon both by
stern demands of the country.  At length, as spring opened
in 1865, and when Sherman  had wheeled, in the magnificent
curve of his grand march, from Atlanta to Savannah, and
northward to the rear of the long-beleaguered city, the
3
3.3 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
generals knew the gigantic game was nearly ended, and
General Ricketts was among those who, having suffered so
long and so much, desired to "be in at the death." The
wish was not denied him. In April he was with his old
corps, and chased the routed and crumbling rebel column
to Danville, where the effect of cold and exposure made
both his wounds very painful, and he was obliged to quit
the field.  Again, and now for the last time, the devoted
wife hurries along the familiar roads, and presses forward
to where the suffering hero needs her cheerful presence and
her skilful care.
The war is now over. The great events of April crowd
in quick succession- the capture of Richmond, the surrender of Lee, and the murder of Lincoln; but General
Ricketts and his wife still linger in camp, for his wounds
are still painful. But at length the Sixth corps, that had
marched, and suffered, and fought so many hard battles on
the soil of Virginia, moves off northward, crosses the
Potomac;  and then, but not till then, the duties of the
heroic general and his no less heroic wife are ended.
With the first boom of the deadly thunder at Manassas,
she had been called away from her life of joyous ease and
peaceful love, and so long as the noise of that long war
lasted, she had known no rest nor intermission in her labors
of womanly care and devotion.
It was not until she had left the soil of Virginia, peaceful
now, but all scarred with battles and drenched in blood,
that she could fiilly realize that that precious life was now
no longer at hazard in the fierce storms of battle.
Does not every reader join in the prayer that years of
34 
MRS. FANNY RICKETTS. 
deep calm and blessed union may reward fidelity so heroic
and suffering so great? May we not apply to her the
dying words of the Suabian nobleman to his wife,
"Gertrude, this is faithfulness to the end," and the wish
of the English poet for his friend, whom he compares to
"that fair Syrian shepherdess,"
"After this thy travel sore
Sweet rest seize thee evermore"?
35 
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
N old Greek writer, in reflecting how his nation had
been roused from luxury and stimulated to actions
that made Greece heroic by the stress of the Persian invasion, exclaimed, in his enthusiasm, "War is the father
of all things."
In like manner, we of America, looking at all the latent
heroism that was developed during those four years of
national agony and national glory, may, in no accommodated sense, hail our great war as the father of a great
national peace, before impossible, and the nurse of magnanimous acts, and lives of saint-like devotion to the good
of others.
While, among those who composed our armies, there were
men who fought from very different motives and incitements, - some for love of glory, some from hatred of national
injustice, some for a splendid name, and some for an undivided nation, - so, among the heroines, some followed
their husbands, and were ready to dare everything and
suffer everything for them and their cause; others sought
the field out of a generous rivalry not to be outdone in
sacrifices by the sterner sex; others were incited by pure
patriotism; while a few moved and acted from motives rarer
and purer, perhaps, than all these - a simple and unmixed
(36) 
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
desire to alleviate human suffering, a philanthropic kindness
of soul, and the swelling of a large-hearted charity, that was
willing, to labor anywhere, and in any manner, to relieve the
wants of those who were suffering pain and privations in a
worthy cause.
Prominent among this numerous class must be placed
the record of the lady whose name is written at the head
of this memoir.
Mrs. Brady was not an American by birth.  She had no
son, or brother, or husband in the war. Born in Ireland,
in 1821, and having married, in 1846, an English lawyer,
twelve years of quiet residence in this country had, no
doubt, sufficed to impress her with American love and
pride; but she had no such stake in the issue, no such incentives to do all and suffer all that woman can in such a
struggle, as might have impelled the exertions of thousands
who did far less than she.
What demand of mere patriotism could have made it
her duty, as an American citizen merely, to forego all the
comforts of her home in Philadelphia, leave a family of
five little children, push her way through all embarrassments and delays, through all the army lines, and sometimes
in spite of general orders, to the very front, or to those
hospitals where the men were brought in with clothing red
with the fresh-flowing gore of battle, and spend days and
weeks at the field hospitals just in the rear of the great
battle-fields, and return home only to restore her wasted
energies, and start out again on her errands of tireless philanthropy? Yet such is the outline of Mrs. Brady's life,
and such the summary of her charities from the summer
37 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
of 1862, when the sick and wounded from McClellan's Peninsular army were brought to the northern hospitals, till
the summer of 1864, when, by reason of her exertions,
exposures, and excitements, the silver cord of life was
strung too tightly, and in the midst of her labors, while
planning fresh sacrifices and new fields of exertion, it
snapped, and she ceased to live, except in the hearts of
survivors, and in the memory of thousands of soldiers,
who
"Shall tell their little children, with their rhymes,
Of the sweet saint who blessed the old war-times."
Up to the summer of 1862 the life of Mrs. Brady was
unmarked by other than the domestic virtues and the
charities of home.  Her life was that of an industrious,
kind-hearted woman, finding her chosen and happy sphere
in the duties of wife and mother. She merited the eulogy
which the Greek orator bestowed on that wom.n, who,
most intent upon home duties, was least talked of abroad,
whether for praise or blame.
It was on the 28th of July, 1862, that Mrs. Brady and
a few others met at her husband's law office, to take into
consideration the condition of the soldiers who had been
brought from James River, and were then languishing in
various hospitals in and around Philadelphia, btut principally at the Satterlee Hospital, in West Philadelphia, not
far from Mrs. Brady's home.
There alone was an ample field for all their labors,
and objects to absorb all the contributions of charity and
patriotism that could be made to pass through their organizationl as a channel of sanitary relief.  Here were three
38 
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
thousand soldiers, a mutilated fragment of the grand army
with which McClellan had advanced up the peninsula, and
which had floundered in the mud and rain, and through the
battles of the Chickahominly, and been reduced by the six
hard fights of that terrible campaign. True, the worst cases
of the wounded were in hospitals nearer the front, at Washington, or Norfolk, or on James River; but here were hundreds and hundreds languishing with that low, dull fever
that overcame so many who shared in that campaign, and
which was called in the army the "James River fever." Ihere,
too, were the mutilated men, nursing the painful stumps
from which an arm or a leg had been amputated. The
absolute physical necessities of these patients were, to a
reasonable degree, met by the customary appliances of an
army hospital. The patient had a bed, narrow and hard,
indeed, but clean.  His food was such as the hospital surgeon prescribed-now a plate of boiled rice, now a slice of
beef, or a dish of soup. But moral and social restoratives
he had none. To wrestle in grim patience with unceasing
pain; to lie weak and helpless, thinking of the loved ones
on the far-off hill-side, or thirsty with unspeakable longing for one draught of cold water from the spring by the
big rock at the old homestead; to yearn, through long, hot
nig,hts, for one touch of the cool, soft hand of a sister or a
wife on the throbbing temples, -this was the drearyroutine
of suffering and cheerlessness in the great hospital before
Mrs. Brady and her associates commenced their labors of
wise andl systematic kindness.
The object of their organization was declared to be to
create committees, who, in turn, should visit the different
39 
WOMEN OF TIE WAR
wards of the United States Hospital, for the purpose of
ameliorating the condition of the sick and wounded soldiers,
and to establish a depot of sanitary supplies, whose location
should be generally known; to have their organization
officially recognized by the governor and the military and
medical authorities of the United States; and eventually,
that members of the association should visit the hospitals
at Washington and the army in the field, to learn the wants
of sick soldiers, and do all in their power to relieve them.
Mrs. Brady was elected president of the association; and
from that day to the hour of her death - not quite two
years after-  her labors were unceasing, her devotion unbounded, and her discretion unerring in the great enterprise of the sanitary well-being of the soldiers of the
republic.
For some months their labors were confined to the hospital at West Philadelphia. A committee of these ladies
regularly, each day, went the round of the hospital wards,
distributing the delicacies and the various articles of comfort that were now daily arriving in a steady stream at the
depot for their hospital supplies on Fifth Street.
But the ministries of Mrs. Brady and her corps were not
confined to the mere distribution of currant jelly, preserved
peaches, flannel shirts, and woollen socks.  They carried
with them a moral cheer and soothing that were more salutary and healing than any of the creature comforts. The
patient, suffering hero of Williamsburg or Malvern Hill
was assured, in tones to whose pleasant, home-like accents
his ear had long been a stranger, that his efforts in behalf
of his country were not ignored or forgotten; that ther
40 
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
too had a son, a brother, a father, or a husband in the field.
Then the pallid face and the bony fingers were bathed in
cool water, and sometimes a chapter in the New Testament,
or paragraph from the morning papers, read, in tones low,
but distinct, and in such grateful contrast to those hoarse
battle-shouts that had been for weeks, perhaps, ringing
through his feverish brain-   Columnn, forward - dress on
thle colos - aim low, and mnzake your shots tell -file right,
march!"
Then the painful and inflamed stump was lifted, and a
pad of soft, cool lint fitted under  it; and  the thin,
chalky lips would move slowly, and say that he "felt
easier."
Here a poor fellow, who had an armless sleeve, was enjoying the services of a fair amanuensis, who ill graceful
chirography wrote down, for loving eyes and heavy hearts,
in some distant village of Vermont or Michigan, the same
old soldier's story, told a thousand times, by a thousand
firesides, but always more charming than ally story ill the
Arabian Nights - how, on that great day, he stood with his
company on a hill-side, and saw the long gray line of the
enemy come rolling across the valley; how, when the
cannon opened on them, he could see the rough, ragged gaps
opening in the line; how they closed up and moved on;
how their general came along, and made a little speech, and
told them to aim low and then give them the bayonet; how
he rushed on at the command to "charge;" how this friend
fell on one side, and poor Jimmy        on the other; and
then he felt a general crash, and a burning pain, and the
musket dropped out of his hand; then the ambulance and
41 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the amputation, and what the surgeon said about his pluck;
and then the weakness, and the pain, and the hunger; and
how much better he was now; and how kind the ladies in
Philadelphia had been to him; that he didn't care much
about the loss of his arm, so far as he was concerned, only
he couldn't do as much for his father and mother as he had
hoped; but he lost it in the line of his duty, and would
lose the other one rather than have the government bro
ken up.
Who would not sew, knit, make currant jelly, write
letters for a hospital full of brave, patient battle heroes
like that?
After their recovery and return, Mrs. Brady received
numerous letters from those she had visited in the hospitals,
thanking her and blessing her for her good deeds.
The following, from a Pennsylvania volunteer, is selected
from a        score equally interesting':
CAMP NEAR BELLE PLAIX, VA., Tanuary 19, 1863.
MRS. MIARY A. BRADY.
Dear Friend: There is one of my comrades in the West
Philadelphia Hlospital (WVard H) by the name of IHarry
Griffin.  I wish you would be so kind as to call and see
him as you make your daily rounds.
You are engaged in a good work in visiting tlie afflicted,
and by contributing to their wants; and surely you will
reap your reward inll good season, and God will bless you.
Every true soldier you have helped shall remember you
with respect and gratitude. I shall always remember you
myself with deep feelings of gratitude, and I shall never
42 
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
forget the kindness bestowed on me by the ladies.   "A
friend in need is a firiend indeed." My arm is still sore.
Believe me to be, madam, yours truly,
JOSEPii A. WINTErS,
Co. B, 7thl le. Pa. rVol.
Late in the fall, at the time of the annual Thanlksgiving,
Mrs. Brady and the other ladies determined that those who
still remained -some sixteen hundred - should not lack
the material supplies on which to celebrate the day.
iIrs. Brady and Miss Lydia C. Price were the cefficient
coliimittee on Thanksgiving Dinner.  They appealed to the
cities and towns around Philadelphia in behalf of the brave
fellows, and Mrs. Brady showed her characteristic kindness
and thoughtfulnless by applying to Dr. Hayes for the release
on that day of all the boys who for any indiscretion had
found their way to the guard-house.'The good surgeon
granted her request, and Mrs. Brady had ready for them,
at the appointed dinner hour, seventy-five turkeys, one hundred chlickens, twenty geese, sixty ducks, eight hundred
and fifty pies, eighty-five rice puddings, and fifteen barrels
of eating, apples.  Two bakers' establishments were placed
at their disposal, and the food brought up  warm to the
hospital in covered wagons.
The number of patients in this hospital now rapidly
diminished, and, in December, Mrs. Brady began to arrange
plans for more extended and arduous labors for the soldier.
At their depot there was a constantly increasing supply of
various articles, such as the soldiers were supposed most to
need.
43 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Soldiers' aid societies had sprung up all over the state,
and Mrs. Brady was widely known as president of the
mother society in Philadelphia.
Numerous boxes had been sent to her care, and she
regarded herself as the authorized trustee of the charities
of large communities.
She determined not to trust the distribution of these
goods to careless or unknown agents, but after consultation with others of the association, it was decided that Mrs.
Brady was to go to the field in person, and distribute the
contents of the boxes fromn tent to tent, as she found the
men in camp who most required them.
While at Alexandria she prepared and sent home to the
association in Philadelphia a charming narrative of her
journey and all its incidents, and how the contents of the
boxes were given out, and how the boys received them,
and how she could have distributed twenty times as much
without giving to any who did not require aid.
When she went to Fairfax and the camps between the
Potomac and the Rapidan our national fortunes were at
ebb tide. It was the Valley Forge of the war. The
Peninsular campaign had been magnificent, but a failure.
Then Jackson, and soon after Lee with him, had advanced
to the Potomac, driving Pope before him into Washington
city.  Then at South Mountain and Antietam the iinvading
tide had been met and rolled back; but Lee was not pursued.   Then  Burnside had taken the army across the
Rappahannock, and fought a superior force under able generals, on the worst ground he could have chosen, with such
results as might have been expected.   The army  was
44 
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
greatly used up and demoralized, and the sick list was
fearful.
Beyond Alexandria, in the direction of Falmouth, where
the army lay, Mrs. Brady came upon one camp of twelve
thousand six hundred convalescents; a little beyond, a sick
camp of eight thousand, and in the forty military hospitals
in and around Washington she visited thirty thousand sick
and wounded. Of course the sixty boxes she took from
Philadelphia were but a mouthful to a hungry man; but she
gave out the articles herself, with true English thoroughness and perseverance, making numerous inquiries, and
faithfully striving to give to those who were most in need.
While travelling among this army of the sick, she was
overtaken one evening by a snow storm, and was obliged
to fare like the soldiers, shivering all night under one gray
blanket, in a tent without a fire, and listellningl, to a dreary
chorus of coughing, which suggested all the grades and
varieties of pulmonary disease. But her thoughts were not
on her personal discomforts, rather on the twelve thousand
sick soldiers, in the midst of whom she was passing but a
single cheerless night; and she hurried home to ply her
needle, and stimulate by her pen the activities of others,
and collect as soon as possible additional supplies. She
only stopped to pay a flying visit to the sick in Washington,
and describes, in affecting language, how, in every ward
she entered, all who were not too sick or badly wounded
would rise up in their beds in astonishment at seeing a
lady visitor.
At several of the Alexandria hospitals the doctors and
nurses told her no other lady had ever before called.
45 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
In about a month Mrs. Brady, and the other ladies of the
association, had sixty large boxes full of flannel shirts,
socks, butter, dried fruit, wine, jelly, preserves, farina,
soap, towels, combs, and several packages of smoking
tobacco, apples, and onions. Her second trip was much like
the first, except that now she penetrated to the extreme
front, and heard the rebel drums tattoo in the camps on the
other side of the Rappahannock, and the church clocks
striking in Fredericksburg.
Here she took a four-mule wagon, and went through the
army, stopping wherever a little red flag indicated a sick
tent. She saved a number of boxes for the Alexandria
hospitals, and the convalescents would file by her stand,
and receive each an apple, a lemon, a handful of smoking
tobacco, or a pair of socks, and what was about as good,
and cost nothing, a cheerful word, a smile, a pleasant joke,
or a wish that she had more for each.
Returning home, the month of April was passed in active
preparations for another trip.   Yet her family was not
neglected. In camp or on the cars she was knitting for
them, or making a dress, and at home divided her time
between the demands of her family and the army, working
now on a child's frock and now on a soldier's shirt.
May came, and with it Chancellorsville and its ten
thousand wounded.  This time she took forty-five packages,
and they were filled with articles suited to the sick and
suffering.  With a view to immediate and practical efficiency, she took two cooking stoves, and proceeded at once
to the great field hospital of the Sixth corps, where she
soon had a tent pitched, her boxes piled around for a wall,
46 
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
her stoves up, and a little squad of the slightly wounded to
get wood and water, open her boxes, and take her cooked
articles to the different hospital tents.
Reporting to the division surgeons, and working under
them, she received " requisitions" that looked almost
appalling, as she saw the rapidly diminishing pile of boxes,
and the two cooking stoves.
She writes to the association at Philadelphia that "fifty
dozen cans of condensed milk, a hundred dozen fresh eggs,
thirty boxes of lemons, ten boxes of oranges, one hundred
and fifty pounds of white sugar, two hundred jars ofjelly, and
twelve dozen of sherry are needed. "Everything is wanted,"
she adds, earnestly.'~ Send us linen rags, towels, and
some cologne; some red and gray flannel shirts, and limb
pillows for the amputated."
But her labors were not confined to her little extemporized kitchen.  At night she could hardly sleep for the
groans from the tents where the worst cases lay, and she
often passed several hours, moving softly through those
tents of pain, going to those who seemed to suffer most,
and soothing them by words, and by little acts of kindness;
fittingi a fresher or softer pad under some throbbiong stump,
talking with some poor fellow whose brain was full of
fever, and who thought the battle was not yet over; moistening lips, stroking clammy foreheads, and helping mother
soldier to find his plug of tobacco.
Then, at five o'clock, she had the fires started, and honored as many requisitions for rice pudding, blanc mange,
custard, and milk punch, as the draught upon her boxes
could supply. This life lasted till some time in June, when
47
v 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the rapid invasion of Lee required correspondingc movements on the part of Hooker, and the hospitals on Potomac
Creek were broken up. Mrs. Brady had barely reached
her home, and resumed for a little time the old and sacred
round of domestic life, when she felt herself summoned to
sanitary and hospital labors by a voice louder and nearer
than any before -by the thunder of those five hundred
cannon at Gettysburg, that for three fearfuil days piled the
ground with bleeding wrecks of manhood.
Operating in her usual homely but effective and most
practical manner, she at once sought a camping ground
near a great field hospital, reported for duty to the division
surgeon, and had a squad of convalescents assigned to
assist her. Hier tents were erected, the empty boxes piled
so as to wall her in on three sides, and the stoves set up
and fuel prepared; so that in two or three hours after
reaching Gettysburg, the brigade, and division surgeonls
were pouring in their "requisitions," and the nurses were
soon passing from her tent with tubs of lemonade, milk
punch, green tea by the bucketful, chocolate, milk toast,
arrowroot, rice puddings, and beef tea,- all of which
were systematically dispensed in strict obedience to the
instructions of the medical men.  Whenever during the day
she could, for a short time only, be relieved from these selfimposed kitchen duties, and for many hours after nightfall,
she was sure to be among the cots, beside the weakest and
those who suffered most. Her frequent visits to the army
had made her face familiar to a great number of the
soldiers, so that she was often addressed by name, and
warmly greeted by the brave fellows. "To see the face of
48
t 
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
a lady does us good, madam." "We are very glad you are
come." "You cheer us up, IMrs. Brady."
When  she remarked  how  grateful  the stay-at-homes
ought to feel to the brave hearts that fought so gallantly
for them, and drove back the rebel hordes from the great
cities along the border, simulitaneously a chorus of voices
exclaimed, "Why, Mrs. Brady, we would all have died, to
the very last man, right here on the battle-field, before we
would have let the Confederates win, or move on Philadelphia."
There we find the true reason of the national success at
Gettysburg. It was not that Lee's abilities were clouded;
not that Stonewall Jackson was dead. The Confederate
force was never greater, never more resolute, or wielded
with more masterly vigor; but they had aever before met
an army that was raised to the heroism of martyrs by the
determination to "die to the very last man right there,"
rather than let the rebels win.
Speaking of her first day at these hospitals, Mrs. Brady
says, " We shortly found ourselves rubbing away the pain
from mutilated limbs, and bathing the feet of others, speaking cheerful words to them all, which latter we believed
to do good like a medicine. In the daytime we cook and
fill requisitions for all sorts of things, and personally distribute our miscellaneous stores to the men with our own
hands, conversing cheerfully with the patients.  Thus we
spend our days as well as our nights."
These labors continued till August, when the field
hospitals at Gettysburg were mostly broken up. For the
remaining portion of the year 1863, as there were no
4
49 
50
WNOMIEN OF TIE WAR.
battles in Virginia, Mrs. Brady remained at home,  and
continued her hospital labors in Philadelphia, and in receiving and preparing supplies for the approaching winter.
She was now well known in Philadelphia, and became the
almoner of numerous but private charities, funds bein,
placed in her hands to be used according to her discretion
in aiding soldiers or their families.  The most of this
money she gave in a private manner, but regularly, to the
wvidows of those who had fallen inl the great battles.  On
one occasion, as she entered a street car, crowded with
passengers, she noticed that a soldier was looking very
steadily in her face.  His sleeve was enmpty.  Presently the
maimed warrior called out, with some emotion, "Don't you
know me, Mrs. Brady?"  " Really," she replied,  I can't
quite recollect you, I see so many of Uncle Sam's brave
boys."  " Not recollect me, Mrs. Brady?" said the soldier,
his eyes now fillilng with tears: "don't you remember the
day you held my hand while the do'ctors cut my arm off?
You told me to put my trust in God, and that I should get
well over it.  You said I was sure to recover; and here I
am, dear madam, thank God!"
It seems that he  had felt a natural revulsion when
the amputation was suggested, but asked the surgeons to
send for BMrs. Brady, and he would do just as Mrs. Brady
said. She came, took the poor fellow's hand, and spoke a
few low, kind words.  "Now put up the sponge," said he
to the surgeon; and the chloroform reduced him to insensibility as his pallid, bloodless hand still lay in hers.
But, with the sensibility of her sex, she was obliged to tl'rn
away just as the operator took up the long, glittering knife. 
MRS. LIAY A. B13RADY.
Early in the year 1864, when Meade, in commanad, was
manceuvring unsuccessfully against Lee for the occupation
of the south bank of the Rapidan, in what is known as the
Mine Run campaign, Mrs. Brady made her fifth and last
visit to the front. She was now so well and so favwrably
known, that every facility was afforded her in the transportation of her boxes, and she penetrated to the front, and
made herself useful in the primary field hospital that was
established in consequence of the action at Morton's Ford,
on the 6th of February. Her ministrations were of the same
nature with those described above, except that here she saw
the wounded just as they were brought from the field, and
shared in the deep excitements and agitations of battle.
She was just in the rear of an engagement that threatened
at one time to become general and bloody. Most of the
time she could secure no better bed than a bundle of wet
straw.  As a natural consequence of such hardships and
exposures, we find her reaching home on the 15th of February, "completely worn out." An examination of her
condition by physicians revealed the grave fact that rest
and quiet alone could never restore her. An affection of
the heart, which had existed for some time, but which, on
account of her strong health and fine powers of constitution,
had never before caused any uneasiness, had been rapidly
developed by the last few weeks of uncommon excitement
and fatigue.
Yet in MIarch and April her health rallied somewhat,
and she continued to collect and prepare the stores for
another mission to the camp.
ILay now came on, and with it the grand advance of
51 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the army of the Potomac, now strongly reenforced, and
wielded by a fresh champion, just come from his great
victories in the West; and the nation was tiptoe with expectation. Then followed the battles of the Wilderness and
Spottsylvania, with their necessary and ghastly sequel, the
longo rows of hospital tents, acres of wounded, and suffering,
and sick, with the demand for everything that can assuage
pain, and reinvigorate the languid or exhausted currents
of life. But Mrs. Brady could not respond to this call, as
she had done when other battles were fought. Disease had
seated itself at the fountains of her life. The abnormal
action of the heart grew worse and worse, causing now the
most acute suffering.  Skilful physicians were summoned;
but science was baffled, and the appalling announcement
fell with unexpected and crushing, weight upon the inmates
of that home of which she was the centre and the sun, that
no human skill could prolong that life, but within a few
weeks those five little children must be motherless.
On the very day that sealed the fate of Virginia, - the
27th of May, 1864, -when Lee gave up the open contest
with his too powerful antagonist, and fell sullenly back to
his intrenchments at Petersburg and Richmond, she, whose
mind even then was turned from the solemn surrouldings
of the death-bed, and the tearful faces of her children, to
the suffering heroes of those great fights, - she was summoned away from all stormy scenes and arduous labors,
into the kingdom of perpetual peace.
The burial of her remains took place on the 1st day of
June. Hundreds of soldiers and officers of the army of the
Potomac sent to the surviving members of the family their
52 
4
MRS. MARY A. BRADY.
fervent tributes to the worth, beauty, and strength of her
character, and expressions of gratitude for the kindness
they had experienced at her hands.
A very large number of sorrowing friends, and poor
people, and widows of soldiers, and five ministers of that
religion of love and charity which she had so eminently
practised, were in attendance at her funeral, and paid
abundant, yet not undue, honor to the memory of the dead;
for, during the forty-two years of her earthly existence, as
long as life and strength remained to enable her to labor
for the good of others, had she not followed closely in
the steps of Him who always went about doing good, and
reproduced the virtues of that Scripture heroine, the
woman that was "full of good works and alms-deeds, which
she did continually"?
53 
KADY  BROWNELL,
THE HEROINE OF NEWBERN.
LL our revolutionary historians are eloquent in their
praises of the bold heroine of Monmouth, " Captain
Molly." They tell us how she was carryilng water to the
men of Proctor's battery on that hot and bloody afternoon
in July, when a ball crushed in the skull of her husband,
just as he was ramming a charge into his field piece, and
he fell at her feet a bloody corpse.   Lie there, my darling,
till I avenge your death!" exclaimed Xolly, and seizing the
rammer, she went on with the work which death had cut
short, while the men cheered her all along the lille. All
through that afternoon, till night covered the landscape
and closed the battle, Molly stood by her guni, and made
good her husband's place, swabbing the piece, and forcing
home the successive charges with the vigor and coolness of
the bravest soldier.  The next morning she was presented
to General Wayne, all soiled and bloody as she had fought;
and Washilngton gave her a commission as sergeant, and by
his recommendation her name was placed on the list of halfpay officers for life.
The annals of our great war for the Union are not wanting in similar instances where the wife of the soldier has
(54)
0 
>~~ <~;-~~~;~~~~~ ~<>~~~<~~~~~~>~~~~ ~~;~~>;;;~m;j;~;;
~~\      ~~~\~                              \~;~~~~~;;
~                     ___                  ~>""              ~
- ~:                    ~
~''
~      
~
~
i;~~i~~~;i;
~'
44
'~~~~'~  ~~          ~~~ ~~               ~~>~> 
1-1 -    --,                       -'-:7,-           -                                 ',          -1,; 
KADY BROWNELL.
gone with her husband, experienced all the hardships of the
eamrnp, stood in the line with sword at her side, carried the
colors into the thickest of the fight, and then, when the
bloody work was over, devoted herself, with the delicate
tenderness of her sex, to mitigating the horrors of the
battle-field.
Such was the brave young wife whose name stands at the
head of our sketch; and such were her courage, her bearing,
and her services on the plains of Manassas and at the battle
of Newbern.  Her father was a Scotchman, and a soldier
ill the British army. He was stationed far away on the
African coast, in Caffraria; and there, in the year 1842, in the
regimental barracks, and surrounded by the rude but kind
old soldiers, her father's companions in arms, little Kady
was born.
Accustomed to arms and  soldiers from  infancy, she
learned to love the camp; and it was, not strange, years
later, when she had come to America and married a young
mechanic in Providence, that the recollections of the
camp fire in front of her father's tenlt, as well as the devotionl of a nlewly-married wife, and loyalty to the Union,
prompted her to follow her husband, stand beside him in
battle, and share all his hardships.
Her husband, Robert S. Brownell,  was made  orderly
sergeant of a company in the First Rhode Island iliantry,
one of the earliest regiments of three months' men who
responded to the first call for troops, the day after national
colors were run down the flag-mast at Fort Sumter.
The First Rhode Island infantry was soon full to overflowing.  It had eleven full companies of a hundred each;
5-3 
WOMEN OF TiE WAR.
and as ten were enough for a complete organization, the
eleventh was formed into a company of carbineers or sharp shooters, and the brave young wife of the orderly was
made the color-bearer of this company.
When the regiment went into camp in Maryland, early in
the summer of 1861, this Daughter of the Regiment was
resolved not to be a mere water-carrier, nor an ornamental
appendage.  She would be effective against the enemy, as
well as a graceful figure on parade, and applied herself to
learn all the arts and accomplishments of the soldier.
When the company went out to practise daily at the target,
she carried her rifle, as well as the colors; and when her
turn came, the men seldom restricted her to the three shots
which were allowed to each. So pleased were they by her
skill and coolness with the weapon, that she was allowed as
many shots as she chose, and thus became one of the quickest
and most accurate marksmen in the regiment. Nor was
the sergeant's straight sword, which hung at her belt, worn
as an idle formn.  She practised daily with her husband and
his friends in camp, till she felt herself as familiar with its
uses as with the carbine.
When the regiment moved she sought no indulgences on
account of her sex, but marched in line beside her husband,
wearing her sword and carrying the flag.
The middle of July came, and the Union army was at
length moving southward from the Potomac, its face set
towards Richmond. She marched with her company, and
carried her flag. On the day of the general action she was
separated from her husband, the carbineers with whom she
was connected being deployed as skirmishers in the skirt of
56 
KADY BROWNELL.
pine woods on the left of the line. About one o'clock on
that eventful day the company was brought under fire. She
did not carry her carbine that day, but acted simply as
color-bearer. The men, according to skirmish tactics, were
taken out by fours, and advanced towards the enemy. She
remained in the line, guarding the colors, and thus giving a
definite point on which the men could rally, as the skirmish
deepened into a general engagement. There she stood,
unmoved and dauntless, under the withering heat, and amid
the roar, and blood, and dust of that terrible July day.
Shells went screaming over  her with the  howl of  an
avenging demon, and the air was thick and hot with deadly
sionging of the minie balls.  About four o'clock, far away
on the right, where the roar had been loudest, a sudden
and marvellous change came over the scene.  The lUnion
line was broken, and what was a few moments before a firm
and resolute army, worn  and bleeding, but pressing  to
victory, became a confused and panic-stricken rout.
The confusion now ran down the line, from right to left,
and the sharpshooters of the First Rhode Island, seeing the
battle lost and the enemy advancing, made the best retreat
they could in the direction of Centreville. But so rapidly
spread the panic, that they did not rally on their colors
and retreat in order. She knew her duty better, and
remained in position till the advancing batteries.of the
enemy opened within a few hundred yards of where she
stood, and were pouring shells into the retreating mass.
Just then a soldier in a Pennsylvania regiment, who was
running past, seized her by the hand, and said, "Come, sis;
there's no use to stay here just to be killed; let's get into
57 
58
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the woods." She started down a slope with him towards a
pine thicket. They had run hardly twenty steps, when a
cannon ball struck him full on the head, and in an instant
he was sinlking beside her, a shapeless and mutilated corpse.
His shattered skull rested a moment on her shoulder, and
streams of blood ran over her uniform.
She kept on to the woods, where she found some of the
company, and before long chanced upon the ambulance,
into which she jumped; but the balls were flying too thick
through the cover. She sprang out, and soon after found
a stray horse, on which she jumped, and rode to Centreville.
Here and at Arlilngtonl Heights, for more than thirty hours,
she was tortured by the most harassing stories about her
husband.
One had seen him fall dead. Another had helped him
into an ambulance, badly wounded. Another had carried
him to a hospital, and the enemy had fired the building, and
all within had perished.  Then, again, she learned that his
dead body was left in the skirt of pine woods in front of
where she stood. So fully did she believe this at one time,
that she had mounted a horse, and was starting back from
Alexanldria, in hope of getting through the linies anld finding
him, when she was met by Colonel Burnside, who assured
her that Robert was unhurt, and she should see him in a
few hours.
The first Rhodcle Island was a three months regiment, and
its time expired on the 1st of August.
She returned with it to Providence, where she received a
regular discharge; but it was only to reenlist with her
husband in the Fifth Rhode Island.  The fall of 18 G61 was a 
KADY BROWNELL.
time of inaction in the army.  McClellan had taken command, and for months the great Union army, with a spirit
and intelligence never equalled in any military organization, and abounding in zeal for "short, sharp, and decisive"
work, was month after month getting ready to move.
Meantime Burnside, who was a colonel at Bull Run, had
been made a brigadier, and placed in command of the
Burnside expedition, whose duty it was to penetrate the
country south of Richmond, and at the opportune moment
to advance on Richmond from that direction, while the
grand army should march upon it from the north.
The Fifth Rhode Island was in his force.  In January
Roanoke Island was taken, and the first blow struck at the
rebel power.  Early in March he was in Neuse River, and
advancing on Newbern.  In the organization of the regiment Kady was not now a regular color-bearer, but acting in
the double capacity of nurse and daughter of the regiment.  When the force debarked, onl the thirteenth, she
marched with the regiment fourteen miles, through the
mud of Neuse River bottom, and early the next morning attired herself in the coast uniform, as it was called,
'and was in readiness, and was earnest in the wish and
the hope that she might carry the regimental colors at
the head of the stormers when they should charge upon
the enemy's field works.
She begged the privilege, and it was finally granted her,
to go with them'up to the time when the charge should be
ordered. Here, by her promptness and courage, she performed an act which saved the lives of perhaps a score of
brave fellows, who were on the point of being sacrificed by
59 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
one of those blunders which cannot always be avoided
when so large a proportion of the officers of any force are
civilians, whose coolness is not equal to their courage.
As the various regiments were getting their positions,
the Fifth Rhode Island was seen advancing from a belt of
wood, from a direction that was unexpected. They were
mistaken for a force of the rebels, and preparations instantly made to open on it with both musketry and
artillery, when Kady ran out to the front, her colors in
hand, advanced to clear ground, and waved them till it
was apparent that the advancing force were friends.  The
battle now opened in good earnest. Shot and shell were
flying thick, and many  a brave man was clinching his
musket with nervous fingers, and looking at the bristling
line of bayonets and gun-barrels which they were about to
charge with anything but cheerful faces, when Kady again
begged to carry her colors into the charge.  But the officers
did not see fit to grant her request, and she walked slowly
to the rear, and immediately devoted herself to the equally
sacred and no less important duty of caring for the wounded.
In a few moments word was brought that Robert had
fallen, and lay bleeding in the brick-yard.  That was the
part of the line where the Fifth Rhode Island had just
charged and carried the enemy's works. She ran immediately to the spot, and found her husband lying there, his
thigh bone fearfully shattered with a minie ball; but, fortunately, the main femoral artery had not been cut, so that his
life was not immediately in danger from bleeding.
She went out where the dead and wounded were lying
thick along the breastwork, to get blankets that would no
60 
KADY BROWNELL.
longer do them any good, in order to make her husband
and others more comfortable.
Here she saw several lying helpless in the mud and shallow water of the yard. Two or three of them she helped
up, and they dragged themselves to dryer ground. Among
them was a rebel engineer, whose foot had been crushed by
the fragment of a shell. She showed him the same kindness that she did the rest; and the treatment she received
in return was so unnatural and fiendish that we can hardly
explain it, except by believing that the hatred of the time
had driven from the hearts of some, at least, of the rebels,
all honorable and all Christian sentiments.
The rebel engineer had fallen in a pool of dirty water, and
was rapidly losing blood, and growing cold in consequence
of this and the water in which he lay.
She took him under his arms and dragged him back to
dry ground, arranged a blanket for him to lie on, and
another to cover him, and fixed a cartridge box, or something similar, to support his head.
As soon as he had grown a little comfortable, and rallied
from the extreme pain, he rose up, and shaking his fist at
her, with a volley of horrible and obscene oaths, exclaimed,
"Ah, you d       Yankee, if ever I get on my feet
again, if I don't blow the head off your shoulders, then
God d      me!"  For an instant the blood of an insulted
woman, the daughter of a soldier, and the daughter of a
regiment, was in mutiny. She snatched a musket with
bayonet fixed, that lay close by, and an instant more his
profane and indecent tongue would have been hushed
forever. But, as she was plunging the bayonet at his
61 
WOMEN OF THIE WAR.
breast, a wounded Union soldier, who lay near, caught the
point of it in his hand; remonstrated against killing a
wounded enemy, no matter what he said; and in her heart
the woman triumphed, and she spared him, ingrate that
he was.
She returned to the house where Robert had been carried,
and spreading blankets under him, made him as comfortable
as he could be at a temporary hospital. The nature of his
wound was such that his critical time would come two or
three weeks later, when the shattered pieces of bone must
come out before the healing process could commence. All
she could do now was simply to keep the limb cool by
regular and constant applications of cold water.
From the middle of March to the last of April she
remained in Newbernl, nursing her husband, who for some
time grew worse, and needed constant and skilfiul nursing
to save his life. When not over him, she was doing all she
could for other sufferers. Notwithstanding her experience
with the inhuman engineer, the wounded rebels found her
the best friend they had. Every day she contrived to save
a bucket of coffee and a pail of delicate soup, and would
take it over and give it out with her own hands to the
wounded in the rebel hospital. While she was thus waiting
on these helpless and almost deserted sufferers, she one day
saw two of the Newbern ladies, who had come in silks to
look at their wounded countrymen. One of them was
standing between two beds, in such a position as to obstruct
the narrow passage.  Our heroine politely requested her
to let her pass, when she remarked to the other female
who came with her, " That's one of our women- isn't it?"
62 
RADY BROWNELL.
"No," was the sneering response, "she's a Yankee          "
using a term which never defiles the lips of a lady.  The
rebel surgeon very properly ordered her out of the house.
It is but justice, however, to say that in some of her
rebel acquaintances at Newbern human nature was not so
scandalized.
Colonel Avery, a rebel officer, soon after he was captured, said something to her about carrying the wrong flag,
and that "the stars and bars" was the flag.  "It won't be
the flag till after your head is cold," was her quick reply.
The colonel said something not so complimentary to her
judgmenlet, when General Burnside, who was standing near,
told him to cease that language, as he was talkiong to a
woman. Immediately the colonel made the most ample
apologies, and expressed his admiration of her spirit and
courage, and afterwards insisted on her receiving from him
sundry Confederate notes in payment 9f her kindness to
the wounded among, his men.  There was one poor rebel,
who died of lockjaw from an amputated leg, whom  she
really pitied.  Hie said he  "allus was  agin the warnever believed Jeff Davis and them would stucceed no how,"
and talked about his poor wife and his seven children, who
would be left in poverty, and whom he would never see
again, in a way so natural and kindly that she forgot all
about the brutal engineer and the insulting woman i! silk,
and did all she could to make the poor old man comfortable.
He was fond of smoking, and  in the terrible pain he
suffered, the narcotic effect of the tobacco was very soothing.  Kady used to lig,ht his pipe for him at the hospital
fire, and go and give it to him.
63 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
In April Robert could bear removal, and was made as
comfortable as possible on a cot on the steamship. Arriving
in New York, he lay a long time at the New  England
Rooms; and his faithful wife, as tender as she is brave,
thought only of his life and his recovery. But it was
eighteen months before he touched ground, and then the
surgeons pronounced him unfit for active service; and as his
soldier days were over, Kady had no thought of anything
more but the plain duties of the loving wife and the
kind friend. The colors she so proudly carried she still
keeps, as well as her discharge, signed A. E. Burnside, and
the sergeant sword, with her name cut on the scabbard, and
sundry other trophies of the Newbern days. An excellent
rifle, which she captured, she gave to a soldier friend, who
carried it back to the front, and fought with it till the war
was ended.
64 
THE HEROINE OF SHETECK LAKE.
A STORY OF BORDER SUFFERING.
TIHE indirect and remote sufferings occasioned by the
great civil war in America have been almost as great
as the direct miseries produced by battles. The greater
part of our standing army is, in time of peace, stationed
along, the western frontier, and in a long series of outposts
that extend from the cool and lonely lakes of Western
Minnesota on the north to the haunts of the savage Camanches on the Mexican border.
Vhen the great demands of the crisis fell upon the
country in the spring of 1861, the first and most obvious
result was the calling eastward of all, or nearly all, the
regiments of the regular army who had been for the long
years of peace interposed as a barrier of steel between the
painted and treacherous barbarians of the mountain and the
prairie and the ever-advancing line of industrious civilization. Lyon and Sedgwick, the heroic Lander, and the iidomitable Colonel Cross, with some who enlisted on the southern
side, and the rank and file, making an aggregate of nearly
thirteen thousand troops, were suddenly withdrawnl from. the
frontier; and this left a long line of pioneer  settlement
wholly unprotected from the treacherous and savage foe..
5                                (65), 
WOIEN OF TIE WAR.
The result might easily be imagined, if it were not a part
of our national history.
Naked Camanches were creeping through the high grass
of WYestern Texas, and shooting ploug,hmen and shepherd
boys almost within sight of the state capital.  The western
settlements of Arkansas and Kansas were unsafe; and farther north, on the western line of Iowa and Minnesota, the
Sioux, friendly and peaceable only when utterly crushed,
were raising their heads, and perpetrating a series of atrocities and murders which recall the old story of Wyoming,
and the early settlement of Kentucky. About the 17th of
August a party of two hundred and fifty or three hundred
Indians proceeded to the agency at Yellow Medicine, and
commenced an indiscriminate slaughter of all the whites,
young and old, male and female.   Then the marauders,
flushed with success, pressed on with their work of death,
murdering, with the most atrocious brutalities, the settlers
in their isolated farm-houses, violating and then killing
women, beating out the brains of infants, or nailing them
to the doors of houses, and practising every species of
atrocity which their fiendish natures prompted.
The following account of the sufferings of Mrs. IHurd and
her children was elicited from her in an examination before
the United States commissioners at Davenport, in Iowa;
and during, the recital of her story the audience wvere many
times melted to tears, and for a little while business was
suspended, and the hall of justice turned illto a house of
mourning. The narrative is somewhat condensed, but the
simple words in which Mrs. Hlurd told it are retained as
far as possible.
66 
THE HIEROINE OF SHETECK LAKE.
"I was born in the western part of the State of New
York, and removed with my parents to Steuben County, in
Iowa, where I passed my childhood.  I was married, in
1857, to Phinleas B. Hurd, and we went to live in La Crosse,
Wisconsin, and remained there about two years; and then
we started west, and settled, with a few others, on Sheteck
Lake, in Murray County, about a hundred miles west of
3Iankato, on the Minnesota River.  It was a beautiful lake,
and the lands around were excellent for grass and wheat.
There were not many of us; but we were contented, and
thought we had a permanent and happy home. The Indians
hung around the lake, as it was an old hunting-ground of
theirs; but they had sold out their title, and appeared to be
very friendly. I knew a good many of them, for they
would often come in and ask for something to eat, and I
always treated them well.  Some time in June, Mr. Hurd
and another man left home on a trip to IDacotah, taking a
span of horses and a wagon, expecting to be gone about a
month.  Wye had two children, and Mr. Voight was living
with us, and had charge of the farm.
"He had been gone over two months, and I began to
grow very anxious about him.  One morning, the 20th of
August [1862], -it was about five o'clock in the morning,,-and I had just gone out to milking, and left my two
children asleep in the house, when about twenty Irulians
rode up and jumped off their horses.  I saw that one of the
horses was in the span that Mr. Hurd had when he started
on his trip. As soon as I got to the house, the Indians
went in, and commenced to light their pipes and smoke.
Pretty soon my youngest child woke up, and was fright
67
I 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
ened at seeing so many Indians, and began to cry.  Mr.
Yoiglht took him up and carried him out into the front yard,
when one of the Indians stepped to the door, and shot him
through the body, so he fell dead, with the child in his arms.
As soon as this shot was heard, ten or fifteen more Indians
and squaws rushed into the house, and beganl to destroy
everything they could lay their hands on.  We had a good
stock of cows, and I had worked hard, and had on hand
about two hundred pounds of butter and twenty-three
cheeses.  All this the Indians destroyed; and while it was
goingl on, solme of them told me they would not kill me and
the children if I would not give any alarm, but go east, by
a very blind road, to the nearest settlement.  They started
me off just as I was, without even a sun-bonnet.on, and
would not let me dress either of the children.
"They went out with me about three miles.  I took the
youingest in my arms, and led the other, a little boy, between three and four years old.  There were seven of them
who started with me; and I took just one look at what had
been our prosperous and happy home, now full of naked
and painted savages.
Before they left me they repeated the condition on
which they would spare me and the children: that we were
to keep straight east, across the open prairie; that all the
whites were to be killed, but I might go to my mother.  I
was bareheaded, the children almost naked, and we had not
a mouthful of food, nor a blanket to shelter us in the cool
nights or in a stormn.  We took the unfrequented road into
which the Indians had conducted us.  It was clear, and the
sun shone uncommonly bright; but the dew on the grass
68 
THE HEROINE OF SHETECK LAKE.
was cold and heavy.  William HIenry was barefoot, and
dressed very thin, and he clung close to me, and begged
me  to go back to the house.  He did not know of the
death of IMr. Voight, as I kept him from seeing the body;
and he cried piteously at first, but, after a while, pressed
my hand, and trudged manfully along by my side.  The
little one was asleep in my arms, unconscious of our situationl.  About ten o'clock in the forenoon a thunder-storm
came on, and the rain and wind were violent for about three
hours.  I heard two guns fired, and I knew that my nleiglhbor, Mr. Cook, was killed.
During the storm I lost the trail, and all that afternoon
walked onl, not knlowing whether I was right or wrong.
Water stood on all the lower parts of the prairie, and I kept
looking for a dry place where we could spend the night.
At last I came to a sand hill, and sat down on the top of it,
to rest for the night. I laid my children flown, and leaned
over them, to keep the rain off their faces and protect them
from the cold wind.  Hungry, and tired, and wet as he
was, William fell asleep, and slept nearly all night; but
the little one worried a good deal, and the night wore away
slowly.  As soon as I could see, I took up the little ones,
and moved on.  About seven o'clock I heard guns, and then
I knew I had lost my way, and was still in the vicinity of the
lake. I changed my course, and went away from the (hrection in which the guns were heard.  But no trail was visible.
I was not conscious of hunger lmyself, but it was so distressing to hear my precious little boy crying for his bread
and milk, and moanling with hunger and weakness! It was
wet and misty all that day. Towards night William grew
69 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
sick and vomited, and it seemed impossible for him to keep
up any longer.  The  youngest still nursed, and did not
seem to suffer materially.
About dark, the second day, I struck a road, and saw,
to my sorrow, that I was only four miles from what had
been my home, and had not yet commenced my terrible
journey across the prairie.
Then, for a little while, my heart sank in me, and I
thought it would be some satisfaction to die right there,
and eind our weary journey on this travelled road, over
which I had passed with my husband in happier days.
But this feeling was but for a moment.  I took courage,
and started on the road to New Ulm. Whenl it was quite
dark I stopped, aind passed the night as I had the former,
without sleep.  In the morning I started on.  It was foggy,
and the grass wet; the road, being but little travelled, was
grown up with grass.  William waA so faint and sick that
he could not walk much of the time; so I was obliged to
carry both. I was now much reduced in strength, and felt
very hungry. My boy no longer asked for food, but was
thirsty, and drank frequently from pools by the road-side.
I was too weak to carry both my children at the same time,
but took one a distance of a quarter or half a mile, laid it
in the grass, and went back for the other. In this way I
travelled twelve miles, to a place called Dutch Charlie's,
sixteen miles from Lake Sheteck. I arrived there about sunset, having been sustained in my weary journey by the sweet
hope of relief. What was my consternation and despair
when I found it deserted and perfectly empty! The house
had not been plundered by the Indians, but abandoned by
70 
THIIE HEROINE OF SHETECK LAKE.
the owner. My heart died within me, and I sank down in
despair. But the crying of my boy aroused me. I had
promised him food when we got there; and when none could
be found, he cried bitterly. But I could not shed a tear. I
found some green corn, which I tried to eat; but my stomach
rejected it. I found some carrots and onions growing in
the garden, which I ate raw. My oldest child continued
to vomit. I offered him some carrot, but he could not eat
it. That night I staid in a cornfield, and in the morning,
at daylight, continued my search for food.
"To my great delight, I found the remains of a spoiled
ham. Here I may say my good fortune began. There was
no more than a pound of it, and that much decayed; and I
saved this for my boy, feeding it to him in very small
quantities. His vomiting ceased, and he revived rapidly.
I gathered more carrots and onions; and with this store of
provisions, about eight o'clock on the morning of the third
day, I again set forth on my weary road for the residence
of Mr. Brown, twenty-five miles distant, and reached it in
two days. Under the effects of the food I was able to give
my boy, he gained strength, and was able to walk all the last
day. When within two or three miles of Mr. Brown's house,
two of our old neighbors from Lake Sheteck settlement
overtook us, under the escort of the mail-carrer.  Both of
them had been wounded by the Indians, and left for dead.
Thomas Ireland had been hit with eight balls, and, strange
to say, was still able to walk, and had done so most of the
way. Mrs. Estleck was utterly unable to walk, having
been shot in the foot, in the side, and through the arm.
The mail-carrier had given her his seat in the buggy, and
71 
WOMEN OF TH VWAR.
was walking beside the horse. At first I thought they were
the Indians, and that I and my little ones, after five days of
such fearful suffering and hunger, must die by the hands
of the savages. I did not dare to look around, but kept on
my way till overtaken; and then my joy was so great at
seeing my friends alive, that I sank to the earth insensible.
We staid at Mr. Brown's house ten days, living on potatoes and green corn. Mr. Ireland and the carrier went on
to New Ulm, and found the settlement in ashes, the Indians
having burned nearly two hundred houses. A party of
twelve men, with a wagon, was sent to our relief, and we
were made comfortable; but the sad and sickening thought
was now fully confirmed in my mind that my husband had
been killed in the general massacre of all the remote
settlements, and my fatherless children and myself left
beggars."
It is some gratification to know that the government has
been very kind to these unhappy border sufferers, restoring
to them the value of their property destroyed. Governor
Ramsay considers that not less than five hundred persons
were murdered by the savages, and that between twenty
thousand and thirty thousand persons fled for their lives,
leaving everything behind them.   For some months between seven thousand and eight thousand persons, mostly
in the sad condition of Mrs. Hiurd, were dependent upon
the charity of their friends. The property thus lost and
destroyed was between two and three millions, most of
which was restored by confiscating the annuity paid these
Minnesota Sioux. It is also a satisfaction to know that in
72 
THE HEROME OF SHETECK LAKE. 
about a month after the date of these atrocious barbarities,
the whole of these Indians were met by our troops in a
battle at Wood Lake, on the 22d of September, and utterly
defeated. Five hundred were taken prisoners, of whom
three hundred were sentenced to be hanged; but the sentence
was finally executed on thirty-eight only of the ringleaders.
Little Crow, the chief who instigated the whole insurrection, succeeded in making his escape into the wilds of
)4cotah.
Mrs. Hiurd now finds a home with her brother, in La
Crosse, Wisconsin; and though the government has dealt
generously with her, and abundant sympathy has been
manifested in her sufferings, nothing can bring back to
her the murdered husband, the beauty, the loveliness,
and the sunny future opening before her on that pleasant
August morning, when, like the leap of a tiger, that storm
of savage desolation swept upon her, and in a brief half
hour left her to the awful consciousness of being a widow,
houseless, and without food, with two almost naked chil
dren in an open prairie.
The great Latin poet has touched a chord of universal
sympathy in his elegant description of the flight of his hero
from burning Troy, bearing his aged father on his shoulders,
and leading his little boy, who trotted along beside him,
his little steps all unequal to the warrior's stride.
Our heroine bore her two children during a part of her
fearful flight, but having been without food for nearly
sixty hours, and all the time sustaining the little one on
her arm by food from her bosom, was compelled to deposit
e
73 
WO3IEN OF THE WAR.
half her precious cargo in the grass, and return for the
other; thus, on the two days when she travelled, advancing
twelve miles each day, herself walking thirty-six. Could
the force of nature go farther? Do our annals anywhere
contain a more remarkable instance of the wonderful sustaining power which maternal love can inspire in tho
delicate frame of woman?
74
0 
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE.
N the midst of the tedious and disheartening siege of
I  Vickesburg, when hundreds and thousands of our brave
boys in blue were floundering in the mud of the Sunflower Swamp, and pneumonia and typhoid fever were
slayiing more than fell by the bullet, two ladies were
standing onl the deck of a steamer, in the rear of the beleaguered city.
One was unusually slender in figure; and, in the fine,
strong lines of her nlobly-modelled head, and the steady
brightness of her dark eye, it was easy to read the marks
of superior character, uncommonly fine natural abilities,
and that heroic self-forgetfulness, which, since the days
when the sand of the Roman amphitheatre was red with the
blood of saints, has decorated the annals of Christianity
with the long roll of holy martyrs.  Even the devoted band
of women who had gone down to nurse the sick and suffering soldiers in that dreary place, felt that she was, fatally
to her own life, foremost in her devotion, and wasp all too
soon for those who loved her here, winning her celestial
crown.
One present chided her eagerness for hospital labor, and
said, "You must hold back; you are going beyond your
strength; you will die if you are not more prudent."
(75) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Instantly the slender form dilated, and the dark eye
glittered with the intense enthusiasm of her soul, as, with a
voice of impressive earnestness,  she exclaimed, "Well,
what if I do!  Shall men come here by tens of thousands,
and fight, and suffer, and die, and shall not some women be
willing to die to sustain and succor them?"
In a little more than a year from the time when Margaret
Breckiuridge uttered those thrilling and memorable words,
she made good her utterances by her deeds; and the rich
young life, full of promise, polished with the finest culture,
and warm with beautiful affections, had been offered on the
altar of patriotic zeal.
The blood that this noble girl carried in her veins, and
the name she bore, were guarantees of a fine character.
Her grandfather was John Breckinridge, of Kentucky, who
in 1806 was taken from a high position in the national
Senate to fill the office of Attorney-Gpneral of the United
States, and died ere his faculties and his fame had reached
their meridian, soon after taking his seat in the cabinet of
Jefferson. His son, John Breckinridge, D. D., the father
of Margaret, while a student at Princeton, in 1815, gave up
the brilliant political career to which his great abilities and
the name of his father in a manner committed him, and
consecrating his talents to Christian virtue and the church,
became the Ajax of Orthodox Christianity in the southwest, and afterwards a great light among the churches of
Baltimore and of New Jersey.
Mrs. Breckinridge was the daughter of the Rev.  Dr.
Samuel Miller, who, though dead, yet speaketh to the
churches through those great theological writings, which,
76 
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE.
with the productions of his colleague, Dr. Alexander, have
become classics in the American church.  When Margaret
was six years old her mother died, and three years after,
her gifted father, so that her tutelage and education fell to
her grand-parents, at Princeton, in whose family she grew
up to womanhood, though making long visits to Kentucky;
and, after the marriage of her sister Mary, in 1852, having
her home mostly in the family of that brilliant and patriotic
martyr in the war, her brother-in-law, Colonel Peter A.
Porter, of Niagara, who fell before Richmond, in the summer of 1864, leading his regiment in the deadly charges at
Cole Harbor.
WVith so much in her family history and surroundings to
breathe of patriotism, zeal, and devotion, it is not strange
that, from the outset of the war, Margaret Breckinridge
was possessed with the idea of becoming a hospital nurse
while the war lasted. To do what she, could, and all that
she could, to aid in the fierce struggle against rebellion,
was the object ever before her eyes, and filling her heart.
But the delicacy of her health, and anl unwillingness to
brave the kind dissuasion of all her friends, induced her to
remain in Princeton till the spring of 1862, when the vast
proportions and evident duration of the struggle became
apparent to all.
But during this first year she did all she could with her
pen, as well as her needles, to advance the common  cause.
The Princeton Standard has several articles by Miss Breckinridg,e, which comnpare favorably with the finest utterances
of that stirring time.
Though the lips of a girl were at the mouthpiece of the
77 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
clarion, it gave no uncertain or feeble note. Take the
following:   England has her standing army ready at her sovereign's
call, but England never saw what we have seen.  She never
saw the hills and valleys start to life with armed men; and
from the eastern seaboard, the northern hills, the western
prairies, and the sunny plains and mountain sides which
rebellion thought to claim, saw the growing streams pour
inward to a common centre, leaving in their track the
deserted workshop, the silent wheel, the idle tool, and the
ungathered harvest.   All was  forgotten but the danger
threatening the country in which each man was a sovereign,
the city which belonged alike to all, and the rulers whom
the right of suffrage had proclaimed the people's choice.
Is not this as it should be? Surely they only who govern
themselves can fight heartily and bravely for the preservation of that noble right of self-goverinment.
"There is a legend of a holy man, to whom God spoke at
midnight, and said,'Rise, and write what I shall tell thee;'
but he answered,'Lord, I have no light.'  And God said,
'RPise, and write as I bid thee, and I will give thee light.'
So he obeyed.  His fingers sought the pen, and as he
touched it to the parchment, his hand glowed with light
that streamed from under it, and illumined all the chamber.
So it has been with us. It was the voice of God that
roused us to see the peril which menaced liberty and union.
It was only for the rescue of such liberty and such a Union
as ours that a nation could have been so roused; and therefore from this very uprising conme new light and streingth;
for that Union must be worth our lives and fortunes the
78 
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE.
possibility of whose destruction has called a nation to its
feet.  Yes, good seceding brothers, the Union is worth all
that we can give;' there are many things dearer to a nation
than even blood and treasure;' and we must bring you
home like the prodigal, and restore to you all that you have
madly flung away, whatever it may cost us.  You may hug,
to your bosoms the narrow liberties and loose-twisted union
of your new Confederacy for a little while, but your waking
will come as surely as ours. 0, if he who stirred the
people with his war-cry a hundred years ago, could come
back now, and, standing where he stood then, gaze upon
the ruins you have made, do you not think he would lift his
hand to Heaven once more, praying,'If this is liberty, O
give me death I"
In April, 1862, Miss Breckinridge left her home in
Princeton for the West, and with the full intention of
devoting herself to the soldiers for the war.
Remaining some weeks in Baltimore, she there commenced her hospital labors; and the letters she wrote from
that place show the hearty satisfaction she took in the
work, and the deep interest she felt in the individual cases
committed to her care.
Here she contracted measles from some of the wards
which she constantly visited, so that during this summer
her health, never firm, received a serious shock.  But in
Lexicngton, Kentucky, where the summer and fall were
passed, she resumed her work in the hospitals of that
place.
Her pen, too, was busy, and she has left several incidents
of Jack Morganl's and Kirby Smith's invasions, that are
79 
WOMEN OF TIE WAR.
charmingly told, and throw much light on the real state of
thiings in Kentucky that summer. One is too good to be
omitted.
"On Tuesday, the 2d of September, Kirby Smith and
his body-guard rode into Lexington, and took formal possession of the town without the firing of a gun.'Lor,
massa,' said one of his negro attendants,  dis de easiest took
town we got yet.' Flushed with his success, he issued an
order for the observance of Jeff Davis' Thanksgiving Day,
and notified the different clergymen that their churches
must be opened. Perplexity sat upon reverend faces when
the day came. But two churches were opened, and in one
a secretly delighted pastor sat gazing at empty pews, and
in the other a dismayed congregation sat gazing at an empty
pulpit. At last they sent for General Smith to come and
officiate in person.
"He went with a great deal more -reluctance than he did
into the first Bull Run battle, where his opportune arrival
gave Johnston the victory; and when he reached the pulpit
his embarrassment was not diminished to find them all
Presbyterians, while what religion he had was of the Episcopal type. But he drew the prayer book from his pocket,
read most of the service wrong, and without being sustained
by any very prompt or hearty responses from the audience.
At length, dismissing his little flock of goats, he came out
of church a sadder and a wiser man, and found the good
people of Lexington crowding around a train of Union
ambulances, that were taking the wounded from the battle
at Richmond, Kentucky, onl to Cincinnati, - bidding them
good  by,  filling  their  haversacks  and canteens, and
80 
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE.
whispering to them,'Every one of you, bring a regiment
with you when you come back.'
" He confessed that he was not prepared for such a
demonstration over Union soldiers, and such an utter lack
of interest in Jeff Davis' Thanksgiving Day.
Where does General Smith preach this morning?' said
a lovely Union lady to the sentinel at headquarters, the
next Sunday.
' You are mistaken, ma'am,' replied the obtuse sentinel.
General Smith isn't a Vreach~er at all.'"
In the fall of 1862 Miss  Breckinridge left Kentucky
to spend the winter in St. Louis with her brother, Judge
Breckinridge, whose house was her western home.  Immediately on her arrival she commenced her visits at the
hospitals in that city. After two days spent at Jefferson
Barracks, she says, "I shall never be satisfied till I get
right into a hospital to live till the war is over. If you
are constantly with the men, you have hundreds of opportunities and moments of influence in which you can gain
their attention and their hearts, and do more good than in
any missionary field."
In December, 1862, Grant commenced the movements
that in July following gave Vicksburg to the Union arms
and opened the Mississippi from its source to its mouth.
Throughout this winter, from  December to March,-Miss
Breckinridge realized her wish, being constantly with the
men in the hospital, for she passed her whole time on the
transports or at the great hospitals at Young's Point and
at Helena, where five thousand died fiom disease, and there
were at one time twelve thousand sick.
6
*
81 
WOMEN OF THE wVE.
Mrs. J. C. Hoge, of Chicago, one of her colaborers in
that field, has given, in a few paragraphs and incidents, a
fine picture of Miss Breckinridge as a hospital nurse:
"It has been my privilege to know many devoted women
in our American hospitals; but I can truly say, no one has
impressed me as she did. Her fragile form, beaming face,
musical voice, and youthful appearance, were wonderfully
fascinating to the soldiers. Her transparent purity and
simple dignity awed them, and as I have visited them, from
cot to cot, I have heard, after she had passed, the outburst
of a soldicr's enthusiastic gratitude again and again.
Ain't she an angel?' said a gray-haired veteran to me,
as I followed her on the steamer City of Alton, to assist
her in giving the boys their breakfast.'She never seems
to tire; she is always smiling, and don't seem to walk.
She flies all but. God bless her!'
" Said another, a fair boy of seventeen summers, as she
smoothed his hair, and told him, with glistening eyes, he
would soon see his mother and the old homestead, and be
won back to life and health, -   Ma'am, where do you come
from?  How could such a lady as you are come way down
here to take care of us poor, sick, dirty boys?'  Said she,
'I consider it an honor to wait on you, and wash off the
mud you've waded through for me.'
"Said another,'Lady, please write down your name, and
let me look at it, and take it home, and show my wife who
wrote my letters, and combed my hair, and fed me. I don't
believe you are like other people.'
" And then, as she passed on, they would fold their
hands, and say,'God bless her, and spare her life.'  Thus
82 
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE.
her days passed; and though God soon took her to himself,
her weeks of army labor might count as years for the usefullness and the blessings with which they were crowded.
In her tour of a week with me through the northwest
to visit the Aid Societies, her earnestness and whole-souled
devotion to the soldiers' interests overcame her timidity,
and she was induced to tell some interesting fiacts concerning the sufferings of the soldiers and loyal people in the
border states.  Her memory is fragrant now among these
simple-hearted, patriotic people.  She stirred them up to
increased labor, and the mention of her name, and allusion
to her death, bring  forth tears from those who only saw
and heard her once, but they loved her.  She pleaded her
own cause eloquently when admonished to rest from hospital work.  She had counted the cost, and stood ready to
die, if need be, as the hero in the front ranks of battle.
Methinks the crown she now wears must, be richly studded
with immortal souls, for in all her army work she preached
Christ, and him crucified."  v
The letters of Miss Breckinlridge, written on board the
transports, from Ilelena, and St. Louis, are full of the most
touching accounts of sick and dying soldiers.  The following
is, no doubt, one that she related with effect to the various
ladies' Aid Societies which she visited with Mrs. Hoge - -
Soon after the capture of one of the rebel forts in the
west, a lady went into the hospital where the wounded had
been taken.  She was much attracted by two young men,
lying side by side, all splintered and bandaged, so that
they could not move hand or foot, but so cheerful and
happy-lookiing, that she said,   Why, boys, you look very bright to-day!'
83 
WOMIEN OF THE WAR.
'0, yes,' they said, we're all right now.  We've been
turned this morning.'
And she found that for six long weeks they had lain in
one position, and for the first time that morning, had been
moved to the other side of their cot.
"And were you,' she asked,'among those poor boys
who were left lying where you fell that bitter morning, till
you froze fast to the ground?''Yes, ma'am,' they said,' we
were lying there two days. You know they had no time to
attend to us; they had to go and take the fort.''And
didn't you think it was very cruel in them to leave you to
suffer so long?''Wily, no, ma'am; we wanted then to go
caid( take tl-e fort.'
'But, when they took it, you were in too much agony
to know or care for it?'
"' 0, no, ma'am!' they answered, with flashing eyes, and
faces glowing with the recollections of that day;'there
were a whole lot of us wounded fellows on the hill-side,
watchiing to see if they would get the fort.  When we saw
they had it, every one of us that had a whole arm waved
it in the air, and we hurrahed till the air rang again."
In a letter published in the Princeton  Standard, and
describing a trip on a hospital transport from St. Louis to
Young's Point, and back to Memphis, she says, "There's
a soldier's  song of which they are very fond,,ald which I
will      copy for you some day, one verse of which often comes
back to me:
' So I've had a sight of drilling,
And I've roughed it many days;
Yes, and death has nearly had me;
Yet I think the service pays.'
84 
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE.
Indeed, it does - richly, abundantly, blessedly; and I
thank God that he has honored me by letting me do a little
and suffer a little for this grand old Union, and the dear,
brave fellows who are fighting for it.
"Just before we parted with our boat-load of sick at
Memphis, one of my convalescents, a fine, trustworthy fellow, came to me with a little note, which he handed me
without a word.'Read it at your leisure,' he said, when I
asked him what it was. It contained a few honest, touching, simple words of thanks, written in the name of all the
sick in my ward, and you may well imagine it i; a greater
treasure to me than an autograph letter from the greatest
man on earth would be.
I don't know that I have ever told you how much I am
amused by the curiosity of people as to how nzuch salary I
get, and how often I am assailed with the question,'How
much do you get a month?' At first I wis indignant; now
I laugh over it."
In March her health was found too much impaired to
allo w her to make any more trips on the transports; but
in St. Louis she continued to visit the hospitals, and labor
among the refuigees and freedmen. She was busy also
with  her pen, and in sewing and knitting for the soldiers.
The         natural wondering as to who might wear the socks
upon   which her fingers were occupied, she has expressed
in the following graceful lines, published at the time in the
Princeton Standard:
" Here I sit, at the same old work,
Knitting and knitting from daylight till dark;
Thread over and under, and back and through,
85 
WOS[MEN OF THE wAR.
Knitting socks for -I don't know who;
But in fancy I've seen him, and talked with him too.
"He's no hero of gentle birth,
He's little in rank, but he's much in worth;
He's plain of speech, and strong of limb;
He's rich in heart, but he's poor of kin;
There are none at home to work for him.
"He set his lips with a start and a frown
wVhen he heard that the dear old flag was shot down
From the walls of Fort Sumter, and, flinging away
His tools and his apron, stopped but to say
To his comrades,' ]'m going, whoever may stay;'
And was'listed and gone by' the close of the day.
"And whether he watches to-night on the sea,
Or kindles his camp-fire on lone Tybee,
By river or mountain, wherever he be,
I know he's the noblest of all that are there,
The promptest to do, and the bravest to dare,
The strongest in trust, and the last to despair.
"So here I sit at the same old work,
Knitting socks for the soldiers from daylight till dark,
And whispering low, as the thread flies through,
To him who shall wear them, - I don't know who,'Ah, my soldier, fight bravely; be patient, be true,
For some one is knitting and praying for you.'"
She remained in St. Louis until about the middle of
May, when she visited Chicago, and made those visits to
the various Aid Societies alluded to in the letter of Mrs.
HIoge.  She then proceeded to Niagara, her health steadily
declining, and passed the summer, fall, and winter at
Princeton, the sea-side, and Philadelphia, cherishing all the
time the hope that she would be able to resume her work
86 
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE.
ill hospitals very soon; but she only saw these successive
hopes end in disappointment, like receding phantoms
before the traveller in Arabia.
She received no permanent benefit from anything. The
subtle miasmatic poison of the Mississippi swamps lurked
in her system, and was slowly bringing her to the grave.
Yet in the spring of 1864, while at Philadelphia, she was
in frequent attendance at the Episcopal Hospital, and
begged of the surgeons to allow her to go with them in
their round of the surgical wards, that she might become
more skilled and useful to wounded men.
A Christian friend and co-laborer has furnished the following beautiful account of her labors here, in a letter
written after Miss Breckinridge's death, and directed to
one of her near relatives: —
"Besides her desire to acquire experience in surgical
cases, she expressed an earnest wish to do what she could
for the spiritual welfare of the patients in our hospital,
hoping in the time  spent there to acquire more facility in
speaking for Christ.
She came to the hospital early in May, 1864, lovely in
form and feature, full of animation and enthusiasm, overflowing with sympathy and tenderness. In her presence
there was always sunshine, and her bright spirit tinged and
influenced all about her. Immediately she began to irterest
herself in the patients, spending an hour or two in the morning, following the surgical nurse, who instructed her in the
best mode of bandaging and treating the various wounds.
She was not satisfied with seeing this, but often washed and
dressed the wounds with her own hands, saying to me,
87 
WOMEN OF TIIE WAR.
with her bright smile,'I shall be able to do this for the
soldiers when I get back to the army.' The patients could
not understand this, and would often expostulate, and say,
' 0, no, miss! that is not for the likes of you to be doing;'
but she would playfully insist, and have her way.
"Her attention in the wards was constant. With her
little Testament in her hand, she went from one bedside to
another, a ministering angel to all there, cheering the
desponding, encouraging the timid and doubtful.  While
I write I have been interrupted by a visit from an old
colored woman, who was in the hospital last spring. I
asked her if she remembered Miss Breckinridge. She
looked surprised at the question, and said,'Yes, indeed; I
never could forget her. She was so good to old Sidney.
Why, she never went to her bed without looking in on me'
to see how I was getting on. 0, I never saw her like.
She used to sing to me, too. Now, she is singing Jesus'
praise in heaven.  She was my lady!'
"At twilight it was her custom to sing hymns in the ward,
and long after she had left us, her sweet voice was spoken
of as a blessing lost by the sick and suffering.  A universal
favorite with officers, nurses, patients, and lady visitors,
many a tear was shed when the intelligence of her death
reached us."
In June, just as she was expecting and preparinmg to go
out to Virginia, to resume her army labors, and while
suffering from a severe attack of erysipelas, there came the
appalling news that her beloved brother-in-law, Colonel
Porter, had been killed at Cold Harbor. The blow fell
upon her with overwhelming force. There was one wild
88 
MARGARET E. BRECKINRIDGE
cry of agony, - one hour of unmitigated agony,- and then
a saintly submission to the will of her heavenly Father.
"I saw her last," says Mrs. Hoge, "in Philadelphia, in
June, 1864. The frail tenement of her soaring spirit was
tottering; the fastenings were being removed surely, but
noiselessly. Her great grief was that she was laid aside
from her work just, as she said, when she was learning to
do it so much better.
"Her great desire to recover was, that she might labor till
war was over. None of us realized that she was so near
the final rest.  Her Christ-like self-abnegation and devotion
sealed her frequent exhortations to the patients that she
visited, as long as her health permitted. God grant the
beautiful, inspiring lesson of her life and death may not be
lost to us, her fellow-workers who survive."
After the great blow of Colonel Porter's death, she for a
time abandoned her efforts to resume army labor, saying,
quietly, "I can do more good at Niagara than anywhere
else just now."
After a little rest in Baltimore, she accompanied the sad
family party to Niagara, and apparently bore the journey
with comfort and safety; but the night after her arrival at
the house of her cousin, Miss Porter, she became alarmingly
ill, and lay down never to rise again.
The inroads of disease soon reduced that intellectual
vivacity and earnestness which characterized her talk and
the productions of her pen while strength remained. Five
weeks her life hung trembling in the balance; and if unwearied attentions and practised skill could have averted
the stroke of death, so fair a light had not been quenched.
89 
WOMEN OF THE WAmR.
But that could not be; and, on the 27th of July, the
blessed vision, of which she had often caught glimpses,
became for her a grand and permanent reality.
Beside the ashes of her beloved sister and brother, the
vast Niagara, roaring its sublime monotone as her dirge,
sleeps now the fragile casket of this " gem of purest ray
serene;" aand her voice, no longer now uttering hymns of
Christian cheer beside the cots of dying soldiers, chimes
with that chorus that John heard in the Apocalypse, saying,
,Blessing, and honor, and power, forever and ever, be unto
Him that washed us, and made our robes white in the blood
of the Lamb."
90 
AlRS. ELIDA RIUMSEY FOWLE.
ATE  in the fall of 1861, an irregular and wretched     looking crowd of Union soldiers moved slowly up one
of the broad avenues of the national capital.  Coming
from a great number of regiments, without proper organization or esprit du corps, emaciated, sallow-looking, and
ragged, how fearfully had they changed from that gay,
confident, and shouting army, that in July had moved out
from Arlington Heights, with "On to Richmond!" for their
watchword! Yet they were the same men. Only these
poor fellows had been captured in the disastrous rout of
Bull Run; had been marched, in the midst of taunts and
jeers, into the rebel capital; had been confined in that
wretched and filthy slaughter and tobacco house in Richmond, over which the sign "A. Libby & Co." had been
fastened - a name now infamous in military history.
During the long, hot months of August, September, and
October, the poor fellows had sweltered in that reeking
pen, breathing foul air, eating miserable rebel army rations,
and apparently forgotten by that great government for
which they had so freely fought, and which they had
thought abundantly able to reach and protect her citizensoldiers in all parts of the world. Yet, in the city that
once rang with the eloquence of Patrick Henry, a city that
(91) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
had given to America such men as Jefferson, Madison, and
John Marshall, they had been jeered at, insulted, and starved
for the crime of having volunteered to save the national ensign from dishonor, and the national unity from destruction.
They halted for some time before one of the government
buildings, these rough, unhappy looking men. They were
conscious of being dirty and seedy looking.  They had
been captured in a battle which loyal Americans were
nowise proud to mention; and though they had done their
duty, and done it nobly, and borne their insults and discomforts with soldier-like patience, yet, standing thus
crestfallen under the towering dome of the Capitol, the
enthusiasm with which they had enlisted was all gone; the
proud Americanism that had swelled in their bosoms was
dull and cold. In short, these exchanged prisoners were
demoralized by disaster and suffering, and had for a time
become indifferent to the glories and traditions of their
country.
As they stood or sat there on the ground, a pleasantspoken gentleman- a clerk at one of the desks of the
navy department - stepped among them, and said, " Boys,
how would  you  like to hear a little song this morning?"   0, very well, I guess," was the somewhat languid
response.
He retired for a moment, and returned with. a young
lady, whose modest manner and flushed face told, better
than any words, how entirely unaccustomed she was to
making any public exhibition of her vocal powers. She
sang the first stanza of "Star-spangled Banner." As the
almost forgotten strains of that great national song rang
92 
MRS. ELIDA RIUSEY FOWLE.
out on the cool autumnal air, every soldier started up from
his attitude of languor and indifference, and came nearer
to the fascinating singer.
They formed a circle around her, and as those on the
outside of the ring complained that they could not see her,
some one said, "Make a stand for her."  Instantly, as
though a command had been given, fifty knapsacks were
unslung, and piled in a rude pyramid before her.  She
stepped upon it flushed, and still more animated by this
sudden and novel mode of expressing their high appreciation of her effort, and sang the remaining stanzas with a
warmth and enthusiasm that surprised her as much as it
delighted the soldiers. The effect upon the men was
marvellous.
"The present scene, their future lot,
Their toils, their wants, were all forgot;
Cold diffidence and age's frost
In the full tide of song were lost."
The pleasant memories of singing schools and sleigh rides
were revived. They thought of their sisters, and "the
girls they left behind them." The bloody afternoon at Bull
Run, and the long, dreary days within the loathsome walls
of Old Libby, the suffering, the blood, and deaths were all
forgotten.  They only remembered that the glorious old
flag still floated from the top of the "imperial dome," and
that America was still the "land of the free and the home
of the brave."
Miss Rumsey stepped down from that little rostrum of
soldiers' knapsacks animated with patriotic enthusiasm, and
inspired with a new and noble purpose.
93 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Others might idly regret that they were women, and
could not take the sword or bayonet in the holy cause.
Others, again, might follow the camp, and minister in person to the wounded and dyin,g. She, too, had a gift and a
mission.  There was good for her to do in soothing, cheering, and sustaining the soldiers.  The rare and beautiful
gift of voice could now be consecrated on the altar of
patriotism, and the songs which she had learned and practised to please her father and enhance the attractions of his
home, might now fan the dying flame of patriotism in a
thousand war-weary bosoms; they might ring along the
wards of the great hospitals, bring joy back to many a
faded eye; or, breathed low and sweet at the pillow of the
dying, they would smooth the ruggedness of the dark
valley, and awaken holy aspirations for the
" undisturbed song of pure concent
Aye sung before the sapphire-colored throne,
To Him that sits thereon."
From that time on, till after the battle of Gettysburg,
and near the close of the war, Miss Rumsey gave herself
unremittingly to labors for the good, the comfort, the
social, moral, and mental well-being of the soldier. She
was as wholly devoted and absorbed in such voluntary
labors as though she had enlisted, and was in duty bound,
and under a military oath of consecration.
Her father's house was opposite Judiciary Square, and
several hospitals were situated within a short distance. Of
these she became a frequent, and, in many cases, a regular
and constant visitor. And in all the wards she visited, she
.94 
MRS. ELIDA RUMSEY FOWLE.
never hesitated to afford the soldiers the benefit of her
vocal powers whenever she was requested; and very often
she volunteered to sing for those who were strangers and
unacquainted with her gifts, and with her promptness to
comply with that request when made. On Sabbath after noons, and often during the week, she, in company with
Mr. Fowle and other Christian gentlemen, visited various
hospitals, and held soldiers' prayer meetings in different
wards, singing the most familiar and widely-known songs
of religious love and worship.
Yet these labors, important and valuable as they were,
are regarded by her and her friends as secondary and incidental merely, as compared with the great and admirable
enterprise with which her name was chiefly associated, and
for which she is held in grateful remembrance by tens of
thousands of soldiers.
It was mainly by the exertions of Mr  Fowle and Miss
Rumsey that the Soldiers' Free Library, on Judiciary Square,
in Washington, was established, the building erected, the
books contributed and arranged, and the library conducted.
During some epochs in the war, Washington city contained
as many as twenty thousand sick, wounded, or convalescent soldiers. By far the greater portion of these men
could read, and two thirds or three fourths of them were
in such health as to be able to move  or hobble about
on crutches; and thus, above all things, they needed
some wholesome  and moral amusement during convalescence.
A library free to all soldiers, and well supplied with
papers, magazines, and all sorts of valuable and entertain
95 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
inog, yet moral books, was an institution of the utility of
which there could be no doubt, and whose power to cheer,
elevate, and entertain could not be over-estimated. Miss
Rumsey had numerous friends, in different villages in the
north, who were known as soldiers' friends, and who knew
her as an efficient and constant hospital visitor. She was
the almoner of the various comforts and delicacies which
had been contributed by various soldiers' Aid Societies in
Connecticut, Massachusetts, and New  York.   To these
societies Miss Rumsey now applied, and very handsome
returns of books and papers were made. During the year
1862 these books and magazines were distributed by Miss
Rumsey and Mr. Fowle in their hospital visits. In a little
more than a year they distributed two thousand three hundred and seventy-one Bibles and Testaments, one thousand
six hundred and seventy-five books and magazines, forty
thousand tracts, thirty-five thousand papers, twenty-five
reams of writing paper, nine thousand envelopes; and of
"creature comforts," over three thousand shirts and drawers,
great quantities of towels, sheets, gowns, slippers, wines,
and jellies.
During this period, they conducted nearly two hundred
singing meetilngs at hospitals, or in camp.  In the fall of
1862, the arrangements then in operation were found inconvenienlt and inadequate to supply the literary demands at
the hospital, and the plan was conceived of raising a sum
sufficient to erect on some public ground a building of
sufficient size and proper construction, to be used as the
Soldiers' Free Library.
To carry forward this worthy enterprise, Miss Rumsey
96 
MRS. ELIDA RULMISEY FOWLE.
and Mr. Fowle gave in Washington, Boston, and various
other places, a number of vocal concerts, the proceeds of
which were to be devoted to the purchase of the neces sary lumber, and procuring labor for constructing the
library.
These concerts were a success. Their principal feature
was the songs of Miss Rumsey, and particularly those stirring and patriotic airs which she sang to so many of the
soldiers.  "The Star-spangled Banner,"as sung by her, was
always received with rounds of applause, and every mark
of the warmest enthusiasm. "The Youlng Recruit" and
the "Battle Cry of Freedom" were also favorite and effective. Another song, of soft and pathetic character, met
with great success, and had a touching private history. It
wa s   called " The Dying Soldier Boy."  In May, 1862, soon
after the bloody action at Wmilliamsburg,, Miss Rumsey, in
her hospital visits, found a poor boy, only seventeen years
of age, at the Patent Office Hospital, who had suffered from
typhoid fever, and this was followed by consumption. Day
by day he grew paler and weaker, till at last he could speak
only in whispers. Yet the dear little fellow was conscious
that he was about to die, and was prepared to go. Miss
Rumsey was much interested in his case, and at twilight
she would often visit him, and at his request would, in a
low,        soft v oice, sing in the ear of the dying soldiep boy
songsS of Jesus and of heaven that he loved to hear.  One
evening, j ust as the sun had set, she found him  failiing
rapidly; and, "I want to hear a hymn," he whispered.
That cha rming, little melody, called "Nearer Home," was
his    favorite. It begins thus:               7
97 
WOMEN OF TIIE WAR.
"One sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o'er and o'er:
Nearer my parting hour am I
Than e'er I was before."
A group of sympathizing soldiers gathered around his bedside. Her voice choked and faltered, and the tears stood
up      o n  her cheeks, as she sang the first, second, and third
stanzas. Before commencing the fourth she glanced down
at the pallid face, and saw that a fearful change had come
ov er t     he marble features.  King Death had stolen upon
him as he listened, and stamped his royal signet on the
countenance of the boy soldier. The last human sounds he
had heard were the plaintive tones of that sweet vocalist,
sing,i     ng, to him of the heavenly home and the starry crown.
A poetical version of this affecting scene was made by Mr.
Fowle, in the following stanzas, which Miss Rumsey sang
to t      he t u ne of "Annie Laurie "
THE DYING SOLDIER BOY.
Sing me a song before I go,
Said the dear and dying boy;
" Nearer Home" is the one I love;
0, sing of heavenly joy.
Sing, for " I'm going home,"
Over the " crystal sea;"
I'm going to join the angel throng,
And spend eternity.
With faint and trembling voice we sang
Of "laying my burden down;"
We sang the sweet, sweet words,
"Wearing my starry crown;"
98 
MRS. ELIDA RIUMSEY FOWLE.
And then the soldier smiled.
As his spirit soared above,
lie left " his cross of heavy grief,"
To spend a life of love.
Brave boy! we mourn your fate;
Your life was nobly given;
Far from home, and far from friends,
You 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've died to save our land.
Our hearts, how oft they bleed
For many a noble band! 
And at their hallowed graves
We all shall pilgrims be;
We'll shed a tear for those whq've died
For RIGIIT and LIBERTY!
Another favorite piece of Miss Rumsey, which she gave in
nearly all the concerts, was composed by the same gentleman, at the time when the first rebel flags which had been
captured at Fort Donelson and Roanoke Island were exhibited at the Capitol in Washington, on the anniversary of the
birth of the Father of his Country, February 22, 1862.
MAiss Rumsey usually sang it to the air of "Bunker Hill.'
THE REBEL FLAGS.
Sadly we gazed upon the flags
Torn from our brothers' hands,
And shed a tear for those once loved,
Now joined to traitor bands.
99
. I   11.  
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
They've put our flag beneath their feet,
They've trailed it in the dust,
And to the breeze their flag unfurled,
And placed in it their trust.
Mark what a treacherous deed it was,
From the good old flag to turn;
With us they dwelt beneath its folds,
And now its stars they spurn.
They've left the flag of Washington,
The flag our fathers gave;
A richer boon was never given,
Or prouder flag to wave!
But when the traitors raised their flag,
And marshalled for the fight,
Six hundred thousand freemen rose
To battle for the right.
Then to our God the prayer went up,
" Protect our noble band;"
God blessed our cause; our flag now waves
Within the traitors' land.'
Then down, down with the rebel flags;
Tread them beneath your feet;
And gayly to the breeze unfurl
The flag we love to greet.
Wave on, ye glorious "STARS AND STRIPES!"
And still our song shall beLong live, long live the good old flag;
Thr ee cheers, three cheers for THEE.
Two of these concerts realized the sum of three hundred
dollars, and this was immediately expended in the purchase of lumber for the building of the Soldiers' Free
Library.  Upon the opening of the next session of Congress, in December, a joint resolution passed both Hiouses,
100 
MRS. ELIDA RUMSEY FOWLE.
appropriating the ground necessary for the erection of the
building. Early in January the following note was handed
to Miss Rumsey.
SENATE CHAMBER, January 7, 1863.
MISS ELIDA B. RuMSEY, 423 FIFTH STREET.
Madam: The joint resolution of the iHouse of Representatives authorizing the Secretary of the Interior to grant
permission to erect a building on Judiciary Square for the
purpose of a library for the use of the soldiers, &c., has
just _passed the Senate.
Very respectfully,          SOLOMON FOOTE.
Other concerts were now given, and the proceeds appropriated to the same purpose, so that within a few weeks,
in the early part of the year 1863, Mr. Fowle and Miss
Rumsey had the gratification of seeing their most laudable
allnd self-sacrificing, efforts crowned with success. A building sixty-five feet long, and twenty-four feet wide, was
erected, containing a library-room, a room for hospital
stores, and a reading-room, which, with appropriate ceremonies, was dedicated to the free use of the soldiers. After
the building was completed and dedicated, a circular was
issued to the friends of soldiers everywhere, requesting
contributions of magazines, pictorial papers, and books.
The results of this appeal, and the proceeds of several
concerts given in Boston and vicinity, were so handisome
ill pecuniary returns and in books, that soon after the
library opened it contained twenty-five hundred volumes.
This number was soon swelled to three thousand, and before the war closed there were six thousand volumes of
good reading matter on the shelves of the institution. For
101 
1WOMIEN OF THE WAR.
some time Miss Rumsey acted as librarian. But afterwards
convalescents, not able to return to line duty, were successively detailed for this purpose. One who acted for some
time in this capacity was a loyal Virginian from the valley
of the Shenandoah.
The following letter from him conveys the sentiments
of at least one soldier on the value of the Soldiers' Free
Library: -
BERKELEY COUNTY, VA., October 29, 1864.
To MR. AND MRS. JOHN A. FOWLE.
Kind and highly-esteemed Friends:  Though two, yet I
will address you as one, for you are one in every good work,
and in devotion to the interests of the soldier.
How oftell have I blessed you in my heart for originating and getting up the Soldiers' Free Library!  How
I enjoyed the meetings there!  I fear you overrate my
services as librarian, and give me more credit than I
deserve; for I only did what was my duty to do. My
most pleasant hours in Washington were spent in the
library, and if I should ever visit it again, it will be the
most attractive place to me in the capital.
Matters are very quiet in the valley now, and have been
since the late fight. I tell you, Sheridan gave the rebs
Hail, Columbia, and Yankee Doodle combined on the 19th
of this month, and I do not think their army will trouble
us again this winter.
For your kind wishes,  so happily expressed,  please
accept my sincere thanks. May Heaven bless and reward
you, both in this life and that which is to come, for your
kindness and labors of love in behalf of our soldiers.
Your sincere Friend.
102 
MIRS. ELIDA RU3ISEY FOWLE.
Duriing all the time that Miss Rumsey was laboring thus
persistently and nobly to found the library, the visits to
hospitals and camps, and the Sabbath exercises in the
Representatives' Hall, and among the soldiers, were by no
means discontinued.
In that dark and calamitous campaign of August and
September, 1862, she at one timewent out into the primary hospitals, and labored among the wounded and dying
of a disastrous battle-field. It was just after the second
battle of Bull Run, fought August 30, 1862. Mr. Fowle
obtained an ambulance, and Miss Rumsey loaded it with
some four hundred and fifty loaves of bread, meat, spirits
of all kinds, bandages, linlt, shirts, and other descriptions
of stores. Leaving Washington late on Saturday afternoon, they drove out by way of Bailey's Cross-Roads, and
reached Centreville very early on Sunday morning.
They halted at a little building near the road, which was
already nearly full of the wounded. As others arrived, or
were brought in, they were laid on those first brought, care
being taken, however, to lay a wounded arm upon a sound
le-, and a mutilated leg, upon a body where its weight
would not give pain. The stacks of wounded were thus
laid up on all sides of the little room, and the blood that
flowed from so many open veins ran down and stood in a
deep crimson pool all over the middle of the room.. For
some time Miss Rumsey remained in the ambulance, giving
out bread to the famishing boys, who crowded around as
soon as it was known there was anything to be eaten there.
Most of thlem had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours, and
were hopelessly separated from their supply trains. After
103 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
she had given out most of the bread and other edibles, she
stepped down from the ambulance, and went inside, to see
if she could be of use to the sufferers there.
Certainly there was enough to be done, and she felt that
the only way to keep from being overcome by such an accu mulation of horrors was to plunge at once into active use fulness. She offered to dress the arm of the first man she
saw. He had received a ball directly through it the day
before, and a field surgeon had dressed it, and wrapped it
so tightly that it was now painling him terribly. Miss RPumsey knelt beside him, and slowly undid the bandage. The
flesh was entirely colorless, and the pain was relieved as
the pressure was removed. She then brought some water
and a sponge, and began to wash the wound.
The contact of water and the gentle pressure of the
sponge soon removed the dried and coagulated blood, and
the wound commenced to bleed afresh. Soon the blood
began to flow in little spouts, and as there was no surgeon
present, she became alarmed. Some of the crimson stream
fell upon her dress, and the floor was everywhere red. It
was a hot summer morning, and she had been travelling all
night. The room, too, was crowded, and the smell of
human blood was strong. All these, operating together,
were too much for Miss Rumsey. All at once she found
her consciousness failing her, and in a moment she was as
helpless as any of the wounded that lay upon the floor.
She was taken out to the ambulance, and the usual restoratives of cold water and fresh air applied. With the return
of consciousness she began to chide herself-"To think
that I have come all the way from Washington to bind up
104 
MRS. ELIDA RUMISEY FOWLE. 
the wounds of these soldiers, and here the first case of running blood I see I have to become faint and helpless! I
won't faint.  I will go back, and work among those poor
fellows; that's what I came here for, and I'm determined to
accomplish something."  So in a few moments she was back
again among the bleeding men, a little paler than before,
but resolute.  She went on binding up wounds, bathing
them with water, cooling parched lips, and giving stimulants to those who had lost much blood, laboring thus all
day till nearly nightfall. Two or three other parties, that
had come out fri-om Washington on similar errands of mercy,
seeing her thus efficient and useful, left their hospital supplies with her, and thus she was kept busy throughout the
day. The good things were given out to privates and
officers without discrimination, the only requirement being
that they needed something. Their little hospital would
hold about fifty, and as fast as their wounds were dressed
they were sent off in ambulances to Washington. Only
two soldiers died under their care: one, whose name and
regiment were unknown, wandered in from the battle-field,
fell down speechless from sheer exhaustion, and died in a
few moments. His body was searched in vain for papers
that might disclose his name and regiment, but no clew was
ever obtained. A grave was dug beside the little hospital
on Sunday evening, his body was decently interred. and
the grave marked with that saddest of all inscriptions,
UNKNOWTN."
The other who died was a non-commissioned officer in a
New York regiment.  He had been struck in the breast,
and the severe concussion produced inward bleeding, of
105 
WOMEN OF THiE WAR.
which he died, unable to speak; but a letter from home
was found in his pocket, and proved that he was a dutifuli
and good son.  A small sum of money was found with the
letter, of which Miss Rumsey took charge; and immediately
upon reaching WTashington she wrote a full and feeling
account to his distant and stranger friends. She had the
gratification of receiving a prompt and grateful answer from
his father, and her first letter was published in connection
with a funeral sermon preached at Sptingwater, N. Y.,
in commemoration of the virtues of Corporal James F.
Snyder.
A few months later, as she was nursing in one of the
hospitals on Judiciary Square, and near her home as well
as the Soldiers' Free Library, in which she took so great
and constant interest, she found one of the patients in a
very dangerous state.  He had been wounded at Chancellorsville, and hopes were entertained that he would recover.
But the injury was close to a main artery, and the suppuration extended so as to involve its tissues, and he suddenly
commenced to sink from internal bleeding.
When he found his strength failing, he desired to have the
Bible read and prayer offered at his bedside. Then turning
to Mrs. Fowle, he said there was one thing more that he
would like to say before he died. "Will you, kind lady,
write to Miss, to whom I have been engaged for the
last two years, and break to her the sad news? Tell her
all I have said; send her my pocket memorandum, my
gold pen, and the twelve dollars in the book." A few
moments after, he added, in a clear but faint voice, "Tell
Deming," - a wounded comrade from the same town,
106 
MRS. ELIDA RUMSEY FOWLE. 
"if he ever gets Well, to tell my friends that I was wounded
bravely fighting for my country, and die happy."
The sacred duty of carrying out the last wish of this
dying patriot was carefully performed.
This was but one of many similar instances, and a great
number of letters have been received by her from the
friends of deceased soldiers, assuring her of their esteem
and gratitude, in language like the following: "My Bible
teaches there is a reward in store for you, aside from the
present satisfaction of having done what you could to
relieve the sufferings of a fellow-mortal, for Christ said,
' Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these
my brethren, ye have done it unto me.'"
In the spring of 1863, after the completion and opening
of the Soldiers' Free Library, and as there was much less
demand for constant hospital labor, Miss Rumsey was
united for life with the gentleman whose name has several
times appeared on these pages, and who labored constantly
and most effectively with Miss Rumsey for the physical and
moral well-being of the soldier.
As Mr. Fowle and Miss Rumsey had acquired almost a
national reputation by their admirable and extensive labors,
and as they had long, been connected with the Capitol choir,
their marriage was celebrated in the House of Representatives, and by their old and intimate friend and associate in
every good work, Chaplain Quint.
Though retaining a constant and lively interest in the
Union and its defenders, the duties and enjoyments of Mrs.
Fowle, since the close of the war, and for a year previous,
have been the blessed and womanly enjoyments of a home
107 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
made sacred by love and enriched by the sweetest fire
side melodies.
In the midst of these pleasures, the richest memories
of her life are of those active and crowded months when
the national fortunes were lowest, and she was laboring
with hands and feet, with needle, pen, and voice, to relieve,
to sustain, to cheer, and to soothe the weary, destitute, or
dying Union soldier,
108 
BRIDGET DIVERS.
T   IIE Hieroines'f the Great War for the Union, like its
heroes, have come from every class of society, and
represent every grade in our social scale. Ladies of the
highest refinement and social polish have left homes of
luxury, and devoted themselves, week after week, and
month after month, to daily labor and nightly vigils in the
wards of great hospitals.
No less praiseworthy and admirable have been the devotion and self-sacrifice of those who were born in less favored
circles, and brought with them to the work, if not the
elegance of the boudoir, the hearty good will, the vigorous
sense, and the unwearied industry of the laboring class.
If the antecedents and manners of Bridget Divers, whom
Sheridan's men commonly knew as "Irish Biddy," were not
those of what the world calls " a lady," she proved herself
possessed of the heart of a true, brave, loyal, and unselfish
woman, who devoted herself, from the beginning to the end
of the war, to the good of the soldier, with such uncglcu
lating generosity, that she deserves and enjoys the grateful
remembrance and the unfeigned respect of every patriot
who saw anything of her admirable labor.
In the commencement of the war, she went out with
the FirstMichigan cavalry, and through the war continued
(l109) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
to act with and for that organization. But as she became
familiar with the army, and well known in it, she extended
her labors so as to reach the wants of the brigade, and even
the division to which the First Michigan belonged.
She knew every man in the regiment, and could speak of
his character, his wants, his sufferings, and the facts of his
military record. Her care and kindness extended to the
moral and religious wants, as well as the health, of the men
of her regiment, as she always called it. In the absence
of the chaplain she came to the Christian Commission for
books and papers for the men, saying that she was the
acting chaplain, and appearing to take a very deep interest
in the moral and religious well-being of them all.
It made no difference to her in what capacity she acted,
or what she did, so be it was necessary for the good of
the men.
Acting now as vivandie're or daughter of the regiment,
now as nurse, hospital steward, ward master, and sometimes as surgeon, she was invaluable in each capacity.
From her long experience with wounds and disease, her
judgment came to be excellent, and her practical skill equal
often to that of a physician. In drawing various supplies
from the SanitaryandChristian Commission  she showed
good judgment, and knew just what the men really
wanted,  never  encouraging  waste  or  recklessness  in
distribution, while she was really very kind and tenderhearted.
Her whole soul was in the work of aiding and sustaining
the soldier. No day was too stormy or too cold to check
her in an errand of mercy. She overcame all obstacles,
110 
BRIDGET DIVERS. 
and battled successfully with all sorts of rebuffs and discouragements in the prosecution of her duties.
When  the Christian Commission received letters from
home, which was very frequently the case, inquiring for a
soldier, if the man was believed to be even in the division
to which she was attached, Bridget was the first person to
whom application was made. If it was in "her brigade,"
as she called it, she could tell all about him. If in the
division, she was more likely to know than the commanding
officer or the adjutant, and could generally give all the
desired information.  Her memory  of names  and places
was truly wonderful.
When the brigade was in active service she was with it
in the field, and shared all its dangers.  She was a fearless
and skilful rider, and as brave as the bravest under fire.
In actual battle she had two or three horses killed
under her, and in the course of the war lost eight or ten in
various ways.
In the battle of Cedar Creek she found herself at one
time cut off and surrounded by the enemy, but managed,
by an adroit movement, to escape capture.
As to making something out of the war, she was utterly
indifferent to that. At one time a purse of some three hundred dollars was made up and presented to her; but in a
few weeks the most of it was gone, having been expended
in various purchases for the comfort of her boys. Any
money given to her was sure to find its way back again
into the regiment, as she would expend it for the benefit
of some sick, or wounded, or unfortunate man, or for the
purchase of hospital supplies.
ill 
WOMEN OF THIE WAR.
Her personal appearance is not prepossessing or attractive.
Sleeping on the ground like a soldier, and enduring hardships like the rest, her face has become browned by exposure, and her figure grown athletic by constant exercise and
life in the open air.  But the heart that beats under her
plain cassock is as full of womanly tenderness as that of any
princess in purple velvet; and, though her hand is strong
and brown, it is as ready to do an act of generous kindness
as that of Florence Nightingale herself.
Not even with the close of the war did her self-imposed
duties end. She has become attached to the free and spirited life of the cavalry soldier, and preferring camp life, with
its hardships and adventures, to the comfort and tameness
of villages, she is now with the detachment that has
crossed the great plains and the Rocky Mountains for Indian service on the distant western frontier.
112 
MRS. ISABELLA FOGG.
WHEN the boom of the great guns in Charleston
harbor, in the spring of 1861, went rolling across
the continent, their echo penetrated to the border town of
Calais, in Maine, on the extreme eastern verge of the Union,
and there summoned men from their ships, and lumber mills,
and farms, to the heroic duty of sustaining the government, threatened by half a continent in arms against it.
Nor did that summons reach the ears of men only. The
lady whose name is written above felt that she was called,
also, to go out, to leave the quiet and seclusion of her
home, and do all that a woman may do  to  sustain the
hands and the hearts of those who had the great battle of
freedom to fight.
In the spring of 1861 the family duties by which she
was bound seemed to make it impracticable for her to leave
at once. But in July, Bull Run, with its disastrous issue,.
ran like a mingled cry of agony and of shame over the
land, and the demand of April was repeated inl    tone
sterner and more imperative than before.
About this time changes occurred in the family of Mrs.
Fogg, which seemed to release her from pressing obligations to remain at home; and her schoolboy son, like ten
thousand others in those arousing times, followed  the
8                               (113) 
WOoMEN OF THE WAR.
twofold impulse of loyalty and youthful enthusiasm, and
exchanged the playground for the camp, and his grammar
for Scott's Tactics.
When her son enlisted, Mrs. Fogg thought her duty no
longer obscure, and offered her services, without compensation, to the governor and surgeon-general of the state, and
under their direction spent several weeks in preparing and
collecting sanitary and hospital stores.
Early in the fall of 1861 she went out with one of the
Maine regiments, and proceeded with it to Annapolis,
where she remained several months, acting at first as the
nurse of those who fell sick in the regiment, and afterwards
was connected with the General Hospital. When the
coast expedition, under General Sherman, was organized,
she was of course very desirous of going with the regiment.
But this was not found practicable. A duty less romantic,
but equally important, was now brought home to her, and
right  nobly did  she discharge  it.  The spotted fever
appeared in the post hospital, and as one or more fell
victims to it daily, much alarm existed, and it was difficult to obtain nurses for the sufferers. In this exigency
Mrs. Fogg, and another lady volunteered their services, and
for week after week, all day, and often for a considerable
part of the night, were on duty in the fever ward, constant
in their devotion to the patients, and indifferent to the
danger of infection.
This duty lasted till the spring of 1862, when those campaigns against the enemy were inaugurated and carried to
a consummation by which the first serious and eventually
fatal blows were inflicted on the defiant monster of Treason.
114 
MRS. ISABELLA FOGG.
Early in May came the first bloodshed on the Peninsula.
The mutilated heroes of Williamsburg were brought ill —
one great, bloody cargo of suffering humanity-to the
northern hospitals, on the Elm City; and a shudder of
horror and agony ran over the nation. We began to see
the fearful price by which the Union was to be redeemed.
IMrs. Fo,gg was now more anxious than ever to be constantly
and actively employed  in labors  to assuage sufferings
so immense as wvere likely to be the price of captured
Richmond.  Hastening, to Washington, she placed herself
under the direction of the Sanitary Commission, and ~vhen
the Elm City returned she went, in company with several
other ladies, and some gentlemen of the Christian and
Sanitary Commissions, to labor on the hospital transports
in the York and James Rivers.  These transport labors are
described elsewhere, in the rehearsal of the labors and sacrifices of Miss Bradley, Miss Ethridge,, Mrs. Harris, and
Mliss Hall.
On the last day of May came the bloody field of Fair
Oaks, after which there was a broad and unbroken stream
of the wounded and  the sick pouring  steadily to the
rear from the active and warlike firont, along the Chickahominy and around  Richmond.   The  charge  of these
removals was in the hands of Dr. Swinburne, who,
observing the skill and activity of Mrs. Fogg in attendimg those who were brought onl the cars to the White
House, asked her if she would be willing to go up to the
front and labor. The application was made to IMrs. Fo,gg
through Mr. Knapp, of the Sanitary Commission, and her
prompt reply was, "Mr. Knapp, that is just where I would
like to go."
115 
,WOMEN OF THE WAR.
A branch of the Sanitary Commission was accordingly
established at Savage Station, two miles from the front;
and, during the long, hot days of June, Mrs. Fogg was
here laboring throughout the day, protecting herself from
sunstroke by a wet towel, worn in her hat, dclistributing
cooling drinks, food, andl stimulants to the sick, as they
arrived inl long trains from Fair Oaks, and as they were
collected from the different parts of the great army. Just
before the campaign culminated in the seven days' fighlt, her
son came down to Savage Station, and gave a moving
account of the sufferings of his comrades at the extreme
front, where he was stationed.  The next mornling found
AIrs. Fogg in an ambulance, loaded with supplies for tho
sick, making her way through the Chickahominy Swamp,
to where Keyes was posted, on the extreme left, and within
sight of the spires of the rebel capital.
On reaching the camp of the Sixth Maine, which was in
Hancock's brigade of Smith's division, she found firom sixty
to seventy brave fellows, who, though sick, had refused to
be sent to the brigade hospital, partly from the soldier's dislike of all hospitals as long as he can stand, but mainly
because they hoped to be well enough to march through the
streets of Richmond, which they confidently expected that
great army, then having nearly one hundred and twenty
thousand men fit for duty, would enter in. a few- days.
Here, protected from the burning midsummer sun and
the malarious night air by nothing better than little shelter
andl " dog" tents, they were languishing with typhoid fever
and chronic diarrhoea; their bed the earth, their fare salt
pork and "hard-tack." The medical officers of the regiment
V
116 
sIRS. ISABELLA FOGG.
were neither unskilled nor inattentive.  Her labors for that
day were wholly for these brave sufferers, dispensing the
stores which she had brought, cooking palatable food,
quenching, the fever thirst, cheering the sinking heart with
kind and sympathetic words.   Their smiling or tearful
gratitude was a reward and a stimulus which dispelled
fatigue, and made her heedless of the occasional shot or
shell that went screaming over the lines.
Returning in the evening to the station, she consulted
with the agents of the Christian and Sanitary Commissions
as to the possibility of bringing constant relief to such
cases as she had just been attending. But the day following all such plans were  cut short by the rapid and
disastrous culmination of the campaign.   The battle of
Gaines'  ~Iill had been fought, the rebel army being concentrated on the north side of the Chickahominy, and
MIcClellan's force divided by the stream'.  The north balnk
of the stream was lost, his communications cut: it only
remained for McClellan to force his way across to the
James River, and establish there a new base of operations.
Innumerable woes and horrors of war now crowded about
Savage Station.  The country was full of sick, and wounded,
and stragglers. - The roar of the artillery grew louder as it
advanced.  Trains of sick and wounded, which had been
started for White House, were coming back.   It was announcedl that Jackson had cut the communications of the
army, and that Savage Station, with its thousands of helpless sick and wounded, must be abandoned, and all that
could must take up their line of march for James River.
Through all these fearfill scenes and agonizing fears,
117 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
while the very existence of the army seemed to be threatenedl, and ignorant whether her son might not be at that
moment stiff on the battle-field, or stretched on anl amputation table, 3Irs. Fogg continued her labor for the sick till
the last moment, and then retreated with the rest to Harrison's Landing.  On the way she was able, by giving out
from her sanitary supplies in the ambulance, to earn the
blessing of many who were ready to perish.
Her special duty at the landiing was assigned her by Dr.
Letterman- the charge of preparing food for amputation
cases, who must, for a time at least, have only the simplest diet. Occasionally, as opportunity offered, she would
take an ambulance and go out through the regiments, distributing stores furnished by the Sanitary Commission to
the soldiers in their tents or in the trenches, only sorry
that her supplies were not twenty-foldcl more abundant.
These labors were continued throu'gh July and a part of
August, till the hospitals were broken up, and the army
began to return to the Potomac.   She then went in the
steamer Spaulding, with a load of wounded, to Philadelphia, and after seeing the last of the peninsula sufferers
comfortable in an amply-furnished hospital, she returned
to ]laine for a little rest, having been absent then just
one year.
Little repose, however, took tlhis unwearied worker for
the soldier.  In Portland she waited on the mayor, and
obtained letters from him and prominent citizens to the
governor of the state, who listened with interest to all her
plans and explanations, and wrote her a long reply, embodyilng his views as to measures of sanitary relief to be
118 
MRS. ISABELLA FOGG.
taken by the state.   The result was the appointment of
a state agent in the person of Colonel Hathaway.
With supplies collected through her efforts, and in company with Colonel Hathaway and another co-laborer,- one
of the most esteemed ladies of Portland, -she started
ag,ain for Washington, on the 4th of October, the primary
object being to supply pressing demands in the Maine regiments, but with no such exclusive charity as passes unnoticed the needy soldiers wherever they may be found.
Wide indeed, and white for harvest, did she find the
field of sanitary labor.  The wrecks of the campaign, whose
only feature that was not wholly disastrous was the bloody
field of Antietam, were strewn widely over Maryland,
filling the ill-supplied hospitals, crowding  the deserted
cabins, and packed beneath shelter-tents.  At no  time
during the war was there so much suffering that might
have been saved by an effective sanitary system as in the
fall of 1862.  During October and November Mrs. Fogg
labored incessantly at numerous hospitals, her efforts being
fully appreciated and seconded by the medical officers. Following the flag, she advanced with the army into Virginia,
and as the winter promised to be one of great activity, her
labors were especially directed to supplying the Maine boys
with clothing suitable for winter and a winter campaign.
In December she penetrated to the front, and evmry facility was afforded her by General Hooker, in whose corps
she found most of the Maine soldiers. A few days after
she witnessed that brave but unavailing attempt under
Burnside, and immediately found abundant work in the
hospitals that were established after the battle, and in the
119 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
great camps of sick and convalescents which were scattered
all the way from the Rappahannock to the Potomac.
Let us from her diary select the labors of a single day,
and remember that such trips were repeated daily almost
throughout that winter:   "Started with ambulance filled with necessary stores of
all kinds, such as bread, soft crackers, canned chicken,
oysters, dried fruit, preserves, condensed milk, dried fish,
pickles, butter, eggs, white sugar, green tea, cocoa, broma,
apples, oranges, lemons, cordials, wines, woollen underwear,
towels, quilts, feather pillows, all invaluable among so
many sufferers so far from home and its comforts.  My
first visit was directed to those regiments where the wants
were most pressing; but my special mission was to those
who languished under bare shelter tents, they being entirely
dependent upon their rations, and seldom or never reached
by sanitary and hospital stores. In dompany with the surgeonlls, who always welcomed us, we made the tour of the
camp, going from tent to tent, finding from one to three in
each of those miserable quarters, suffering from camp diseases of every-form, distributing our stores at the surgeons'
suggestion.  We left reading matter generally in each tent.
Then we would hasten away to the General Hospital, and
pass the latter part of the day in reading the Bible to some
dying soldier, or write out his words of final and touching
farewell to the loved ones at home, then bathe fevered
brows, moisten with water and refresh with cordials mouths
parched with fever, and, adjusting pillows under aching
heads, bid our patients farewell. Weary, but glad at heart
for having it in our power to do so much for our boys, we
120 
MRS. ISABELLA FOGG.
sought our tents, which scarce protected us from snow and
rain; but we were happy in a sense of duty discharged, and
in enjoying the grateful love of our sacrificing heroes."
This routine of noble and most useful labor was now and
then interrupted by a visit to Washington, where Mrs.
Fogg, went to receive and forward to the camps along the
Rappahannoek and Aequia Creek, the sanitary stores which
were being regularly shipped from Portland and other
places in Maine.
But labors and exposures like these could hardly be continlued through that gloomy winter without interruption
from disease; and early in March Mrs. Fogg was prostrated
with a severe attack of pneumonia, by which her sanitary
labors were interrupted for several weeks, until the sun
and winds of April had dried the deep mud of a Virginia
winter, and General Hooker advanced across the river to
establish his lines at Chancellorsville.  At the time of the
great battle which followed, Mrs. Fogg and the lady who
had accompanied her from Portland spent five days and
nights of almost incessant work at the United States Ford,
feeding and reviving tlhe wounded as they came pouring
from the field, as they were too much exhausted to proceed
without some refreshment.
About daylight on Monday morning, the 4th of May, she
and her companion, exhausted by their labors, and Igils,
and excitement, crept to an unoccupied corner of a low
attic, to obtain an hour of sleep, when a terrific storm of
shells and round shot came smashing through the roof.
The enemy had, during the night, pushed forward a battery,
and opened upon their position at daylight.   A terrible
121 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
scene of confusion and excitement now followed. The
screaming and hissing messengers of death were falling
thick and fast all around, and piercing the little hospital
crowded with the wounded.  All who could walk or crawl
were leaving for the rear. As she passed one heroic young
soldier, she remarked, "You have been left, poor boy."
Hie looked up with a calm smile, and replied, "Don't call
me poor; I have laid one arm on the altar of my country,
and am ready to sacrifice the other also." A soldier, whose
wounds she had just dressed, was this moment killed by a
shell which burst immediately over their heads.
As this sudden attack became known, some general officers, who knew the importance of the sanitary stores at
this hospital, took active steps for their defence, and the
hostile battery was silenced or withdrawn.
Two weeks later, General Lee sent a flag of truce, and
offered protection to such detachments as might be sent
within his lines to bring away some fifteen hundred
wounded.
A train of ambulances was accordingly started, and Mrs.
Fogg, took all her sanitary stores, which were the only supplies on the spot and available, and established a temporary
Rest, or way-side hospital, on the north bank of the river,
near the ford, where fires were made, and large quantities
of palatable food prepared and given to the sbfferers in
each ambulance as it reached the bank. For five days the
train of ambulances was active in these removals, and
numerous lives were saved by the refreshment thus timely
administered in the middle of the agonizing journey from
the rebel lines to the Union hospitals.
122 
3MS. ISABELLA FOGG.
The sufferings and labors of Chancellorsville were quickly
followed by the glorious but bloody days at Gettysburg.
MIrs. Fogg left her stores to be forwarded as soon as
might be, and she pressed to the scene of action, arriving
in Gettysburg on the 4th of July.
As there was a lack of sanitary stores and of food of
all kinds, she took a team and made an extensive circuit
among the farmers, collecting from them all that she could.
The Baltimore fire company also placed at her disposal a
large amount, which they had brought forward, and she
labored for some ten days or two weeks with her accustomed zeal and patience among that great host of sufferers,
estimated by General AMeade, when all that were left on
the field from both armies are included, at nearly twentytwo thousand men.
But the corps of workers was soon found to be proportionlably large. Nurses, matrons, lady'superintendents,
special cooks, and every class of persons who can ameliorate suffering and make themselves useful at such a time,
came in great numbers from the adjacent cities; and MAIrs.
Fogg was convinced that she could be of more service by
following the flag, and keeping with the heroic men whose
stubborn courage had won that all-important battle.
During the fall of 1863 she was at Warrenton, Culpepper, Bristow Station, Rappahannock  Station, KIelly's
Ford, and Mine Run, and bestowed the same attention on
the sick and wounded that she had the year before on
nearly the same ground.
During the'winter of 1864 she again visited Maine, and
the legislature of that state, much to their credit, voted a
123 
WOMEN OF TIE WAR.
handsome sum of money to be appropriated and placed at
her disposal for disbursal, according to her knowledge and
judgment of the wants of the soldiers. Hurrying back to
the front, she saw those great movements inaugurated by
the new commander of the army of the Potomac, and of all
the forces of the United States, which, after a series of
battles unparalleled in obstinacy and extent, at last broke
the rebel force, and closed the war.
Then followed that ever-memorable second week of May,
with hard fighting for seven consecutive days, and Grant
"determined to fight it out on that line, if it took all summer." Twelve thousand wounded were reported at Rappahannock Station and at Fredericksburg.  Leaving her son
sick at Alexandria, Mrs. Fogg drove to Fredericksburg,
taking Miss Dix in her ambulance, and found that old, warblasted city one great hospital. In all her experience she
had seen nothing so terrible.
"It was indescribable," she writes, "in its enormous
woes, a sight demanding the tears and prayers of the universe - the awful price of a nation's existence."  Laboring
here ill the manner described above for two or three
weeks, she passed on with the army to Front Royal, and
thence to the James, crossing it on the great pontoon
bridge. Hospitals were now established at City Point,
and as the summer advanced, and the army appeared to
be stationary around Petersburg, and the hospitals well
supplied and easy of access, she sought a scene of duty
more arduous.  PReturniing north to Boston, and then to
Calais, she was successfully engaged in organizing new and
more extensive plans of usefulness, when there came the
124 
MRS. ISABELLA FOGG.
terrible news that her son, who had gone back to his regiment (from which he had been for a time detailed to drive
his mother's ambulance) and been with Sheridan in the
battle of Cedar Run, had been mortally wounded.
The anxieties of the mother now triumphed over the
thoughts of philanthropy, and she flew to Martinsburg, in
Virginia, to make inquiries for her boy. She was about to
leave the place and press forward to the scene of the recent
action, when she happened to meet a delegate of the Christian Commission, who to her inquiries was enabled to reply
that her son had been in Martinsburg, that he had suffered
amputation of his leg, survived the operation, been carefully attended, and forwarded to a hospital in Baltimore.
She reached that city in a few hours, greatly exhausted by
the long journey and the deep anxiety, but found her boy
doing well.  She attended him for two weeks, when she
was herself prostrated, and remained sick more than a
month. Recovering her health, in November she went to
Washington, and reported to the Christian Commission.
As there was no longer the same demand as before for the
class of labor in which she had been so persistent and successful, she reported to Mrs. Wittenmeyer, who, as special
ag,ent of the Christian Commission, had charge of the
special diet kitchens in a great number of hospitals. By
her she was assigned to duty in Louisville, Kentucky.
While laboring here on a hospital boat, in January,
1865, she stepped through an unseen opening in the deck,
and received very serious and permanent injuries from
the fall.
Unable to return to the state for whose brave patriots
125 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
she had labored so long and so successfully, the close of
the war found her a permanent invalid among strangers.
But this affliction was as nothing in her estimation. Her
son was a cripple for life. She would never enjoy health
again. But, to use the language of her diary, she is daily
solaced and penetrated with deep gratitude to God that
he so long preserved her in health and strength, to witness the triumph of the right, and the dawn of peace, and
the days when the patriot, no longer languishing in camp
nor agonizing on the field, will not suffer for what woman,
in her tenderness, can do for him.
126
I 
WHIIAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
THIIE roar of another great battle has at last died away.
For three long, hot days in July the ground has jarred
with the fearful concussion of three hundred cannon, and
trembled under the tread of immense hosts of fighting men.
The "long, tormented air" is quiet at last. The fierce
enemy having for three days dashed his long gray lines,
like great ocean waves, against the firm battalions that
awaited him so sternly on the crests of the'hills around the
town, has moved sullenly away, defeated, but dangerous
still. He has hurried back to the Potomac, and abandoned all thought of planting his defiant banner on Battle
Monument, or dictating terms of settlement to the loyal
states from Independence Hall. The Union army, after its
herculean struggle, succeeding as it did a series of forced
marches, has gone into camp; and is reposing a little on its
hard-earned and blood-sprinkled laurels.  And now, from
the great cities that were so recently threatened, come pouring to the relief of the vast multitude of sufferers,'the
noble army of charity, the Christian Commission, the Sanitary Commission, representatives of Ladies' Aid Societies
and Soldiers' Relief Societies; and they are welcome all,
and all needed, for the amount of work to be done is
stupendous.
(127) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
The invader has left eight thousand wounded to the
tenderness and mercy of those whose homes a few days
ago they were threatening to burn, and whose government,
and priceless liberty, and constitution they hoped to see
toppled to the dust. More than thirteen thousand loyal
soldiers are wounded;  so that here lie over twenty-two
thousand suffering, bleeding, dying men.
They are in want of everything than can conduce to comfort, assuage pain, or lift and illuminate the ever-deepening
shadow that covers them as they go down into the dark
valley.  The wounded of both armies had marched, for
many a long, hot day, under a broiling sun, and through
clouds of dust.  From  the 15th Junle, when the Federal
general broke camp at Falmouth, till the 4th of July, when
the issue had been met and decided, it had been one swift
succession of long, forced marches, growing longer and
more strenuous, to end only in the forces being plunged
into the bloodiest battle of the war. The sun smote fierce
on all the torn and dusty landscape; there was no shade on
the battle-field, no food, no rest, or help, or cheer of ally
kind. The medical corps had moved southward with the
army, expecting another great battle near the Potomac, and
the greater part of the immense duty of caring for all these
wounded devolved on voluntary charity, the unpaid goodness of those hundreds of noble souls, both men and
women, who were seeking no reward but an approving
conscience, and the final benediction, "Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done
it unto me."
While the battle was raging these wounded were gath
128 
IVtAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
ered into field hospitals, without reference to organlization.
In a few days these were broken up, and all who could bear
transportation brought to the railroad station, and others
collected into corps and division hospitals.  At the depot,
the Sanitary Commissioni, anticipating the wants of the case,
had come prepared from Baltimore, and a spacious loclde
or rest was erected.  Large store tents were at hand, filledl
with all mainner of supplies, for the preparations to in(,et
this emergency were commensurate with the magnitude oef
the workl.  A cook-house was put up, with  caldrons aud
stoves, and a steam apparatus,  and these were all kep4
in fiull operation, day and night.
These preliminary arrangements were completed by the
9th July, and then the labor could be systematic and effective.  Day after day, and frequently for a great portion of
the nlight, these labors  continued for four months.  At
lelng,th the various smaller hospitals, in and near town, were
broken up, and the wounded that could not be removed
farther were collected at Camp Letterman, on the hills east
of the Gettysburg; and here these sanitary labors were continuedcl till the 17th November, when the last car-load of
mutilated men took its departure  for Pittsburg, in the
railway ambulance.
iNearly all who had ever labored for the soldiers in. thle
east came here; and representatives of a hundred delighltful homes, whose family names had been known and honored in the northern cities and colleges since the Mayflower
landed, might be seen devoting themselves, in the heartiest
cheerfulness and good will, to the noble work.
One there was - her name is not to be written on these
9
129 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
pages, but it is well known to the recording angel -the
excellence of whose work is equalled only by the charming simplicity and grace of her narrative.   One of her
own sex, herself a noble worker, thus eulogizes the fair
authoress of the story below, known perhaps already to
some of our readers, under the title of "What we did at
Gettysburg: "  "She is now (1863) in a - far distant hospital, and it is
therefore not improper that this allusion to her should be
made.   Her sense, energy, lightness, and quickness of
action, her thorough knowledge of the work, her amazing
yet simple resources, her shy humility  which made her
regard her own work with impatience, almost with contempt; all this, and much else, has made the memory of
a source of strength and tenderness, which nothing
can take away."
"What we did at Gettysburg, for the three weeks we
were there, you will want to know.'We' are Mrs.
and myself, who, happening to be on hand at the right
moment, gladly fell in with the proposition to do what we
couldl at the the Sanitary Commission Lodge after the
battle. There were, of course, the ageints of the Commission, already on the field, distributing supplies to the hospitals, and worki,ng night and day among the wounded.  I
cannot pretend to tell you what was done by all the big
wheels of the concern, but only how two of the smallest
ones went round, and what turned up in the goin,g.
Twenty-four hours we were in making the journey
between Baltimore and Gettysburg, places only f()our hours
130 
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WHAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
apart in ordinary running time;  and this will give you
some idea of the difficulty there was of bringiing up supplies
when the fighting, was over, and the delays in.transporting
wounded.  Coming towards the town at this crawling rate,
we passed some fields where the fences were down, and the
ground slightly tossed up.'That's where Kilpatrick's cav alrymen fought the rebels,' some one said;'and close by
that barn a rebel soldier was found, day before yesterday,
sitting dead;' no one to help, poor soul,  near the whole
city full.'  The railroad bridge, broken up by the enemy,
government had not rebuilt as yet, and we stopped two
miles from the town, to find that, as usual, just where the
government had left off, the Commission had come i.u.
There stood their temporary lodge and kitchen, and here,,
hobbling, out of their tents, came the wounded men who had
made their way down from the corps hospital, expecting, to,
leave at once in the return cars.' 6.
This is the way the thing, was managed at first: The,
surgeons, left in care of the wounded three or four milesout from the town, went up and down amolng the men in
the morning, and said,'Any of you boys who can make
your way to the cars, can go to Baltimore.'  So off start
all who think they feel well enough, anything being better
than the'hospitals,' so called, for the first few days after a
battle.  Once the men have the surgeoll's permission fo go,
they are off; and there may be an interval of a day, or two.
days, should any of them be too weak to reach the' train in
time, during which these poor fellows belong to no one, the
hospital at one end, the railroad at the others with far more
than chance of falling through between the two.   The
131 
WOMEN OF THiE WAR.
Sanitary Commission knew this would be so of necessity, and,
coming in, made a connecting link between these two ends.
"For the first few days the worst cases only came down in
ambulances from the hospitals; hundreds of fellows hobbled
along as best they could, in heat and dust, for hours, slowly
toiling, and many hired farmers' wagons, as hard as the
farmers' fists themselves, and were jolted down to the railroad at three or four dollars the man. Think of the disappointment of a soldier, sick, body and heart, to find, at the
end of this miserable journey, that his effort to get away,
into which he had put all his remaining stock of strength,
was useless; that'the cars had gone,' or'the cars were
full;' that while he was coming others had stepped down
before him, and that he must turn all the weary way back
again, or sleep on the roadside till the next tratin' to-morrow.' Think what this would have been, and you are ready
to appreciate the relief and comfort that was. No men
were turned back.  You fed and you sheltered them just
when no one else could have done so; and out of the boxes
and barrels of good and nourishling things, which you,
people at home, had supplied, we took all that was needed.
Some of you sent a stove (that is, the money to get it),
some of you the beef-stock, some of you the milk and fiesh
breacd; and all of you would have been thankful that you
had done so, could you have seen the refreslfhment and
comfort received through these things.
"As soon as the men hobbled up to the tents, good hot
soup was given all round; and that over, their wounds
were dressed,-for the gentlemen of the Commission are
cooks or surgeons, as occasion demands, - and, finally,
132 
WHAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
with their blankets spread over the straw, the men stretched
themselves out, and were happy and contented till morning,
and the next train.
On the day that the railroad bridge was repaired we
moved u p to the depot, close by the town, and had things
i      n        perfect order; a first-rate camping ground, in a large
field directly by the track, with unlimited supply of delicious, cool water. Here we set up two stoves, with four
large boilers, always kept full of soup and coffee, watched
by four or five black men, who did the cooking under our
direction, and sang (not under our direction) at the tops of
their voices all day,
'0 darkies, liab you seen my massa?'
'When this cruel war is over.'
Then we had three large hospital tents, holding about
thirty-five each, a large camp-meetingi supply tent, where
barrels of goods were stored, and our own smaller tent
fitted up with tables, where jelly-pots and bottles of all
kinds of good sirups, blackberry and black currant, stood
ill rows.  Barrels were ranged round the tent walls; shirts,
drawers, dressing-gowns, socks, and slippers (I wish we had
more of the latter), rags and bandages, each in its own
place on one side; on the other, boxes of tea, coffee, soft
crackers, tamarinds, cherry brandTy, &c. Over the kitchen,
and over this small supply tent, we women rather reigned,
and filled up our wants by requisitions on the Commission's
depot. By this time there had arrived a'delegation' of
just the right kind from Canandaigua, New York, with surgeoli dressers and attendants, bringing a first-rate supply
133
j , 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
of necessaries and comforts for the wounded, which they
handed over to the Commission.
Twice a day the trains left for Baltimore or Harrisburg,
and twice a day we fed all the wounded who arrived for them.
Things were systematizedcl now, and the men came down in
longI ambulance trains to the cars  baggage cars they were,
fitted with straw for the Wvounded to lie on, and broken
open at either end to let-in the air.  Agovernment surgeon
was always present to attend to the careful lifting of the
soldiers from ambulance to car.  Many of the men could
get along very nicely, holding one foot utp, and taking great
jumps on their crutches.  The latter were a great comfort:
we had a nice supply at the lodge, and they travelled up and
down from  the tents to the cars daily.  Only occasionally
did we dare let a pair go on with sonme very lame soldier,
who begged for them: we needed themi to helpl) the new
arrivals each day, and trusted to the'men being supplied at
the hospitals at the journey's end.  Pads and crutches are
a standing want - pads particularly.  We manufactured
them out of the rags we had, stuffed with sawdust from
brandy boxes; and with half a sheet, and some soft straw,
Mrs.       made a poor dying boy as easy as his sufferings
would pertnit.  Poor young, fellow! he was so gratefuil to
her for washing, and feeding, anld comforting him!  He
was too ill to bear the journey, and went fiom our tent to
the church hospital, and from the church to his grave, which
would have been coffinless but for the care of,   for the
quartermaster's department was  overtaxed, and for many
days our dead were simply wrapped in their blanmkets and
put into the.earth. It is a soldierly way, after all- lying
134 
VWHAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
wrapped  in the  old war-worn  blanket, the -little dust
returned to dust.
"lhen the surgeons had the wvounldedcl all placed, with as
much comfort as seemed possible undei the circumstances,
on board thle train, our detail of men would go from car to
car, with soup made of beef-stock or fresh meat, full of
potatoes, turnips, cabbage, and rice, with fresh bread and
coffee, and, when stimulants were needed, withl ale, l'mlilk
punch, or brandy.  Water pails were in great dlemand for
use inl the cars on the journey, and also empty bottles, to
take the place of canteens.  All our whiskey and brandy
bottles were wvashedl and filled up at the spring, anld the boys
went off, carefully hugtging their extemporized canteens,
from whichl they would wet their wounds, or refresh themselves, till thle journey ended.  I do not think that a manl
of the sixteen thousand, who were transported dluring' our
stay, went from Gettysburg without a good meal: rebels and
TUnionists together, they all had it, and were pleased and
satisfied.'Hlave you friends in the army, madam?' a rebel
soldier, lying, on the floor of the car, said to me, ias I gave
himn some milk.'Yes; my brother is on's staff.'   I
thoug,ht so, ma'am.  You can always tell; when people are
good to soldiers they are sure to have friends in the army.'
We are rebels, youL know, ma'am,' another said;' do you
treat rebels so?'  It was strange to see the good brotherly
feeling come over the soldiers -our own and the rebelwhen side by side they lay in our tenlts.'IHallo, boys!
this is the pleasantest way to meet- isn't it?  We  are
better friends when we are as close as this, than a little
farther off.'  And then they would go over the battles
135 
WOMEN OF TIE WAR.
together -'We were here,' and'You were there,' in the
friendliest way.
"After each train of cars, daily, for the three weeks we
were in Gettysburg, trains of ambulances arrived too late -
men who must spend the day with us until the five P. M.
cars went, and men too late for the five P. M. train, who
must spend the ni,ght till the ten A. M. cars went. All the
men who came, in this way, under our own immediate and
particular attention, were given the best we had of care and
food. The surgeon in charge of our camp, with his most
faithful dresser and attendants, looked after all their wounds,
which were often in a most shocking state, particularly
among the rebels.  Every evening and morning they were
dressed. Often the men would say,'That feels good. I
haven't had my wound so well dressed since I was hurt.'
Something cool to drink is the first thing asked for, after
the long, dusty drive, and pailfuls of tamarinds and water'a beautiful drink,' the men used to say -disappeared
rapidly among them.
"After the men's wounds were attended to, we went
round giving them clean clothes; had basins, and soap, and
towels; and followed these with socks, slippers, shirts,
drawers, and those coveted dressing gowns.  Such pride as
fley felt in them! - comparing colors, and smiling all over
as they lay in clean and comfortable rows ready for supper
ton dress parade,' they used to say.  And then the milk,
particularly if it were boiled, and had a little whiskey and
sugar, and the bread, with butter on it, and jelly on the
butter -  how good it all was, and how lucky We felt ourselves in havilng the immense satisfaction of distributing
136 
WHAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
these things, which all of you, hard at work in villages and
cities, were getting ready and sending off, in faith!
"Canandaigua sent cologne, with its other supplies, which
went' right to the noses and hearts of the men.'That is
good, now;''I'll take some of that;''worth a penny a
sniff;''that kinder gives one life;' and so on, all round
the tents, as we tipped the bottles up on the clean handkerchiefs some one had sent, and when they were gone, over
squares of cotton, on which the perfume took the place of
hem, -'just as good, ma'am.' We varied our dinners with
custard and baked rice puddings, scrambled eggs, codfish
hash, corn starch, and always as much soft bread, tea,
coffee, or milk as they wanted.  Two Massachusetts boys
I especially remember, for the satisfaction with which they
ate their pudding. I carried a second plateful up to the
cars, after they had been put in, and fed one of them till he
was sure he had had enough.  Young fellows they were,
lying side by side, one with a right and one with a left
arm gone.
"The Gettysburg women were kind and faithful to the
wounded and their friends, and the town was full to overflowing of both.  The first day, when Mrs.            and I
reached the place, we literally begged our breadcl from door
to door; but the kind woman who at last gave us dinner,
would take no pay for it.'No, ma'am, I should't wish to
have that sin on mny soul when the war is over.' She, as
well as others, had fed the strangers flocking into town
daily; sometimes over fifty of them for each meal, and all
for love, and nothing for reward; and one night we forced
a reluctant confession from our hostess that she was mean
137 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
ing to sleep on the floor that we might have a bed- her
whole house being full. Of course wve couldn't allow this
self-sacrifice, and hunted up some other place to stay in.
We did her no good, however, for wve afterwards found that
the bed was given up that night to some other stranger who
arrived late and tired:'An old lady, you know, and I
couldn't let all old lady sleep on the floor.'  Such acts of
y
kindness and self-denial were almost entirely confined to
the - women.
"Few good things can be said of the Gettysburg farmers
and I only use Scripture language in calling them'evil
beasts.'  One of this kind came creeping into our camp
three weeks after the battle.  Ile lived five miles only from
the town, and had'never seen a rebel.'  He heard we had
some of them, and came down to see them.'Boys,' we
said, marching him into the tent, which happened to be full
of rebels that day waiting for the train, -'boys, here's a
man who never saw a rebel in his life, and wants to look at
you;' and there he stood with his mouth wide open, and
there they lay in rows, laughing at him, stupid old Dutchmanl.'And why haven't you  seen a rebel?' Mrs.
said;'why  didn't you take your gun and help to drive
them out of your town?'   A feller iigiht'er got hit;'which reply was quite too much for the rebels; they roared
with laughter at him, up and down the tent.  One woman
we saw, who was by no means Dutch, and whose pluck
helped to redeem the other sex. She lived in a little
house close up by the field where the hardest fighting was
done- a red-cheeked, strong, country girl.'Were you
frightened when the shells began flying?'  Well, no; you
138 
WHAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
see we was all a baking bread round here for the soldiers,
and hadl our dough a-rising.  The neighbors they ran into
their cellars, but I couldn't leave my bread.   Whenl the
first shell came inl at the window, and crashed through the
room, an offlcer came and said, <You had better get out of
this; "' but I told him I could not leave my bread, and I
stood working it till the third shell came through; and then
I went downll cellar, but (triumphantly) I left my bread in
the oven.''And why didn't you go before?''0, you
see, if I had, the rebels would have come in andcl daubed
the dough all over the place.'  And here she had stood, at
the risk of unwelcome plums in her loaves, while great
holes, which we saw, were made by shot and shell through
and through the room in which she was working.
The streets of Gettysburg were filled with the battle.
People thought and talked of nothing else; even the childrenl showed their little spites, by calling to each other,
'Here, you rebel!' and mnere scraps of boys amused themselves with percussion caps and hammers.  I-Itundreds of
old muskets were piled on the pavements, the men who
shouldered them a week before lying under ground no-w,
or helping to fill the long trains of ambulances on their way
from the field.  The private houses of the town were, many
of them, hospitals; the little red flags hung fromi the upper
windows.
Besides our own men at the lodge, we all had soldiers
scattered about whom we could help from our supplies;
and nice little puddings and jellies, or an occasional chicken,
were a great treat to men condemned by their wounds to
stay in Gettysburg, and obliged to live on what the empty
139 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
town could provide. There was a colonel in a shoe shop,
a captain just up the street, and a private round the corner
(whose young sister had possessed herself of him, over coming the military rules in some way, and carrying him
off to a little room, all by himself, where I found her doing
her best with very little). She came afterwards to our
tent, and got for him clean clothes and good food, and all
he wanted, and was perfectly happy in being his cook,
washerwoman, medical cadet, and nurse.  Besides such as
these, we occasionally carried from our supplies something
to the churches, which were filled with sick and wounded,
and where men were dying,- men whose strong patience it
was very hard to bear, -dying with thoughts of the old
home far away, saying, as last words for the woman watchilg there, and waiting with a patience equal in its strength,
Tell her I love her'
Late one afternoon - too late for the cars - a train of
ambulances arrived at our lodge with over one hundred
wounded rebels to be cared for through the night.  Only
one among them seemed too weak and faint to take anything.  He was badly hurt and failing.  I went to him after
his wound was dressed, and found him lying, on his blanket,
stretched over the straw -a fair-haired, blue-eyed youngt
lieutenant - a face innocent enough for one of our own
New Eingland boys.  I could not think of him ash a rebel.
He was too near heaven for that.  Hie wanted niothinghad not been willing to eat for days, his comrades said; but
I coaxed him to try a little milk gruel, flavored nicely with
lemon and brandy; and one of the satisfactions of our three
weeks is the remembrance of the empty cup I took away
140 
WHIAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
afterwards, and his perfect enjoyment of that supper.'It
was so good —the best thing he had had since he was
wounded;' and he thanked me so much, and talked about
his'goodl supper' for hours.  Poor creature! he had had
no care, and it was a surprise and pleasure to find himself
thought of; so, in a pleased, child-like way, he talked
about it till midnight, the attendant told me,- as long as
he spoke of anything; for at midnight the change came,
and from that time he only thought of the old dclays before
he was a soldier, when he sang hymns in his falther's church.
He sang them now again, in a clear, sweet voice:'Lord,
have mercy upon me;' and then songs without words - -a
sort of low intonilng.  His father was a Lutheran clergyman in South Carolina, one of the rebels told us in the
mlortiung, when we went into the tent to find him slid(ling
out of our care.  All day long we watched him -sometimes fighting his battles over- oftener singing his Lutheran chants; till in at the tent door, close to which he
lay, looked a rebel soldier, just arrived with other prisoners.
HIe started when he saw the lieutenant, and, quickly lkneeling  down by him, called,'hIenry! Henry!' but IhIcnry
was looking at some one a great way off, and could not
hear himn.
'Do you know thlis soldier?' we said.
"'0, yes, ma'am! and his brother is wounded, and a
prisoner, too, in the cars now.'
"Two or three men started after him, found him, and
half carried him from the cars to our tent.'Henry' did
not know him, though, and he threw himself dclown by his
side onil the straw, and for the rest of the day lay in a sort
141 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
of apathy, wvithlout speaking, except to assure himself that
he could stay with his brother without the risk of being
separated from his fellow-prisoners.
And there the brothers lay, and there we, strangers, sat
watching, and listening to the strong, clear voice, singing,
'Lord, have mercy uponll me.' The Lord had mercy; and
at sunset I put my hand on the lieutenant's heart to find
it still!
"All night the brother lay close against the coffin, and in
the morningr he went with his comrades, leaving us to bury
Helenry, having' confidence,' but first thanking us for what
we had done, and giving us all that he had to show his
gratitude- the palmetto ornament fir om his brother's cap,
and a button from his coat.
Dr. A V     read the burial service that morning at the
grave, and      Wrote his name on the little head-board:
Lieutenant Rauch, Fourteenth Regiment'South Carolina
Volunteers.'
Iln the field where we buried him, a number of colored
freedmen, working for government onl the railroad, had
their calmp; and every night they took their recreation, after
the heavy work of the day was over, in prayer meetings.
Such an'inferior race,' you know!  We went over one
nigiht and listened for an hour, while they sang, collected
under the fly of a tent, a table in the middle, where tlhe
leader sat, and benches all' round the sides for the congregation, - men  only, - all very black and very earnest.
They prayed with all their souls, as only black men and
slaves can, for themselves and for the dear white people,
who had come over to the mneeting, and for'Massa Lincoln,'
142 
WHIAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
for whom they seemed to have a reverential affection, some
of them a sort of worship, which confused Father Abraham
and Massa Abraham  in one general call for blessings.
WVhatever else they asked for, they must have strength and
comfort, and blessing for'Massa Lincoln.'  Very little care
was taken of these poor men. Those who were ill during
our stay were looked after by one of the officers of the
Commission. They were grateful for every little thing.
Mrs.       went into the town and hunted ul) several dozen
bright handkerchiefs, hemmed them, and sent them over to
be distributed the next night after meeting.  They were put
on the table in the tent, and one by one the men came up
to get them.  Purple, and blue, and yellow, the handkerchiefs were, and the desire of every man's heart fastened
itself on a yellow one: they politely made way for each
other, though, one man standing back to let another pass
up first, although he ran the risk of seeing the particular
pumpkin color that riveted his eyes taken from before
them.  When the distribution was over, each m,an tied his
head up in his handkerchief, and sang one more hymn,
keeping time all round, with blue, and purple, and yellow
nods, and thanking and blessing the white people, in'their
basket and in their store,' as much  as if the cotton handkerchiefs had all been gold leaf. One man came over to
our tent next day to say,'Missus, was it you wlto sent me
that present?  I never had anything so beautiful in all my
life before;' and he only had a blue one, too.
Among our wounded soldiers, one night, came an elderly
man, sick, wounded, and crazy, singing and talking about
home.   We did what we could for him, and pleased him
143 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
greatly with a present of a red flannel shirt, drawers, and
red calico dressing gown, all of which he needed, and in
which he dressed himself up, and then wrote a letter to his
wife, made it into a little book with gingham covers, and
gave it to one of the gentlemen to mail for him. The next
morning he was sent on with the company from the Lodge,
and that evening two tired women came into our camphis wife and sister, who hurried on from their home to meet
him, arriving just too late.  Fortunately we had the queer
little gingham hook to identify him by, and when some one
said,'It is the man, you know, who screamed so,' the poor
wife was certain about him. He had been crazy before the
war, but not for two years, now, she said. He had been
fretting for home since he was hurt, and when the doctor
told him there was no chance of being sent there, he lost
heart, and wrote to his wife to come and carry him away.
It seemed almost hopeless for two -lone women, who had
never been out of their own little town, to succeed inll finding a soldier among so many, sent in so many different
directions; but we helped them as we could, and started
them on their journey the next morning, back on their
track, to use their common sense and Yankee privilege of
questioninig.
A week after, Mrs.        had a letter, full of gratitude,
and saying that the husband was found and secured for
home. That same night we had in our tents two fathers,
with their wounded sons, and a nice old German mother
with her boy.  She had come  in from Wisconsin,  and
brought with her a patch-work bed-quilt for her sonl, thinking he might have lost his blanket; and there he lay, all
144 
WHAT WE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
covered up in his quilt, looking so home-like, and feeling
so too, no doubt, with his good old mother close at his side.
She seemed bright and happy - had three sons in the army
- one had been killed, this one wounded -yet she was so
pleased with the tents, and the care she saw taken there of
the soldiers, that while taking, her tea from a barrel-head
as table, she said,'Indeed, if she was a man, she'd be a
soldier too, right off.'
"For this temporary sheltering and feeding of all these
wounded men government could make no provision.
There was  nothing for them, if too late for the cars,
except the open field and hunger, in preparation for their
fatiguing journey. It is expected, when the cars are ready,
that the men will be promptly sent to meet them; and government cannot provide for mistakes and delays; so that,
but for the Sanitary Commission's Lodge and comfortable
supplies, for which the wounded are'indebted to the hard
workers at home, men badly hurt must have suffered nlight
and day while waiting for the' next train.'  We had, on an
average, sixty of such men each night, for three weeks,
under our care; sometimes one hundred, sometimes only
thirty; and with the'deleg,,ationll,' and the help of other
gentlemen volunteers, who all worked devotedly for the
men, the whole thing was a great success; and you, ainl
all of us, can't help being thankful that we ha( a share,
however small, in making it so.  Sixteen thousand gooae
meals were given, hundreds of men kept through the daty,
and  twelve  hundred  sheltered at night, their wounds
dressed, their supper and breakfast secured, rebels and all.
You will not, I am sure, regret that these most wretched
10
145 
WOMEN OF THE WAr.
men, these'enemies,''sick and in prison,' were helped and
cared for through your supplies, though certainly they
were not in your minds when you packed your barrels and
boxes.  The clothing we reserved for our own men, except,
now and then, when a shivering rebel needed it; but in
feeding them,  we  could make  no distinction.  It was
curious to see, among our workers at the Lodge, the
disgust and horror felt for rebels giving place to the
kindest feeling for woundcled men.
Our three weeks were comiing to an end; the work of
transporting thle wounded was nearly over; twice daily we
had filled and emptied our tents, and twice fed the trains
before the long journey. The men came in slowly at the
last, a lieutenant, all the way from Oregon, being among
the very latest.  He came down from the corps hospitals
(now greatly improved), having, lost one foot, poor fellow,
dressed in a full suit of the Commnlission's cotton clothes,
just as bright and as cheerful as the first man, and all the men
that we received, had been. We never heard a complaint.
' Would he like a little nice soup?'' Well, no, thank you,
ma'am;' hesitating and polite.'You have a long ride
before you, and had better take a little; I'll just bring it,
and you can try.' So the good. thick soup came. He took
a very little in the spoon to please me, and afterwards the
whole cupful to please himself. He'did not think it was
this kind of soup I meant.  Hie had some in camp, and did
not think he cared for any more; his " cook" was a very
small boy, though, who just put some meat in a little water,
and stirred it round.''Would you like a handkerchief?'
and I produced our last one, with a hem and cologne too.
146 
WVHAT VWE DID AT GETTYSBURG.
'0, yes; that is what I need; I have lost mine, and was
just borrowing this gentleman's.'  So the lieutenant, the
last man, was made comfortable, thanks to all of you,
though he had but one foot to carry him on his long journey
home.
"Four thousand soldiers, too badly hurt to be moved,
were still left in Gettysburg, cared for kindly and well at
the large, new government hospital, with a Sanitary Coinmission attachment.  Our work was over, our tents were
struck, and we came away, after a flourish of trumpets
from two military bands, who filed down to our door, and
gave us a farewell -'Red, white, and blue."'
147 
AIRS. MIARY W. LEE.
HIS  name will recall to the minds of ten thousands
of our brave soldiers who fought in the army of the
Potomac the face and the figure of a cheerful, active,
efficient, yet tender-hearted woman, herself the mother of
a soldier boy, who for month after month, and year after
year, while the war continued, moved about the hospitals
of the army a blessing, a comfort, and a hope to thousands
of weary sufferers.
She came to America from Great Britain when a mere
child, and grew up with intense national pride and loyalty
to the government which has given an asylum and opportunity to so many millions.
Her first efforts in behalf of the soldiers in our great
war were in the hospital of the Union Refreshment Saloon,
in Philadelphia. Ilere she labored with constancy and zeal
during the greater part of the first year of hostilities; but
when the conflict assumed the serious and bloody proportions that we saw in the summer of 1862, Mrs. Lee felt
that she could do more good nearer the field of action. In
Aug,ust opportunity favored her, and she went down to
Harrison's Landing on the Spaulding, a hospital transport,
and there, with others, she found that enterprising and
indefatigable army worker, Mirs. Harris, with whom she
(148) 
MRS. MARY W. LEE.
gladly cooperated in the arduous duties and melancholy
scenes that attended the disastrous finale of the Peninsular
campaign.
No sooner was the mutilated wreck of that grand army
brought away from the sickly bottoms of James River,
than all fit for service, and thousands of new recruits, were
pushed forward in the relentless and deadly campaign
which ended in disaster and repulse for the rebels at
Antietam. In this great battle Mrs. Lee was one of the
first on the field; and her labors, commencing among the
first wounded, continued, without weariness or abatement,
till the last poor, mutilated hero of the "crutch brigade"
was moved from the general hospital late in December. 
Although it was her first experience in a great battle,
Mrs. Lee prepared for the awful scenes that were to follow
with the coolness and judgment of a veteran. She had two
large buckets filled with water, one for washing wounds,
the other for queiching thirst.  As the action grew hot,
the first tub grew of a deeper and deeper crimson, till it
seemed almost as red as blood itself; and the other was
again and again replenished, as the men came in with faces
black with powder, and clothes stiff with gore. The hunger,
too, in many cases, was clamorous. Many of the men had
eaten nothing for more than twenty-four hours.  Mrs. Lee
found a sutler, who, with enterprise that would have been
becoming in anything less purely selfish, had urged his
wagon well to the front, and was selling at exorbitant
rates to the exhausted men. She took money from her
private purse, and again and again bought his bread and
soft crackers at his army rates.  At  last such repeated
I
i
149 
WOMEN OF TVE WAR.
proofs of generosity touched the heart of the army Shylock,
and he was determined not to be'outdone so entirely by a
woman. About the third or fourth time she pulled out her
purse he exclaimed, "Great God, I can't stand this any
longer.  Give that woman the bread!"  The ice was now
broken, and from giving to her, he began to give away,
himself, till his last cracker had gone down the throat of a
half-famished hero, and he drove away with his wagon
lighter and his heart softer for having met a noble-hearted
woman.
While she was thus working just in the rear of the awful
thunder, Sedgwick was brought to the rear, with his severe
wound, and then Hooker, with his bleeding limb.
Mrs. Lee was probably nearer the front than any other
woman on the day of. the battle, and certainly much nearer
than the commander-in-chief himself.
Among the fatally wounded was one named Adams, from
the Nineteenth Massachusetts, whose brother brought him
to MIrs. Lee, and said, My good lady, my brother here
will die, I think; the regiment is ordered to IHarper's
Ferry.  Will you promise to look after him, and when he
dies, to see that he is decently buried, and mark the spot,
so I can find his body and take it on to our home in Massachusetts?" Mrs. Lee promised the heavy-hearted soldier
that all his wishes should be respected; and he buckled on
his sword and marched back to the front. A few days
after, he sought out Mrs. Lee, and she gave him a full
account of the last hours of his brother and his dying
words; and then taking him out among the thick and freshheaped mounds, pointed out a grave better rounded than
I
150 
MRS. MARY W. LEE.
the rest, and distinctly marked, and told him his brother
was buried there; and so he found it. Such was her
fidelity and perfect reliability at all times and ill all trusts
committed to her.
Immediately after the battle there was that confusion
and delay in the supply trains inevitable ill the best-conducted army at the time of a great action. At one of
the field hospitals where Mrs. Lee was doiing the best she
could for the crowd of sufferers, there was found nothing
in the way of commissary supplies but a barrel of flour, a
barrel of apples, and a keg of lard. To a practical housekeeper, as she is, this combination seemed to point to
apple dumplings as the dish in which they could all be
employed to the best advantage; and the good-natured
astonishment of the poor fellows, who looked for nothing
but black coffee and hard-tack, was merged in admiration for the accomplished cook who could there, almost
on the battle-field, serve them with hot dumplings.
While the battle was still raging, and orderlies were
gallopilng, past where Mrs. Lee was at work, she asked one
of them if Sumler's corps were yet engaged.  "Yes," was
the reply; "they have just been double-quicked into the
fight."  For a few moments her heart sank within her, and
she grew sick, for her son was in that corps, and all her
acquaintances in the army. Her anguish found relief in
prayer; after which she grew so calm and cheerful that
a wounded boy, who lay there on the grass beside her, said,
Madam, I suppose you haven't any one in the battle, or
you couldn't be so calm."
The nighlt after the battle she went to Sedgwick's division
i
151 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
hospital, and while preparing some food for the sufferers,
was greatly annoyed by some worthless camp-followers,
who would not carry food to the wounded, and when she
left to carry it, they stole everything she had cooked.  She
-went up stairs, where most of the wounded were, and asked
if any one was there who had sufficient authority to detail
her a guard.   A  pleasant voice from one of the cots,
where an officer lay bleeding, said, "I believe I have.
Just take the first man you can find, and put a gunl in his
hand."  It was General John Sedgwick; and she had no
more annoyance from camp thieves.
In a day or two after the battle she went, with Mrs.
General Barlow, in an ambulance, to see if some poor fellow
had not been overlooked on the field.  They found two
boys in a deserted cabin, who had never had their wounds
dressed, and had been living onl a few crackers and water.
They were, of course, brought in, and tenderly cared for.
MIrs. Lee was very much interested ill a very brave little
fellow, from Company B,Seventy-second Pennsylvania volunteers, named Willie Morrow.  IHe had fought all day
with uncommon bravery, acting as a sharpshooter.  I-Ie
and his companion, at one time, came marching in six rebel
prisoners, captured by only those two, and Willie was the
smallest boy in the regiment.  As he was going back to the
front, a cannon ball hit him, and carried off both his legs.
When brought to the rear, he asked the surgeon if there
was any hope of his getting over it. " No, Willie, there is
no hope," said the doctor.  Turning to his companions, he
said, "Tell them at home that I died happy,- that I was
glad to give my life for my country."  The blood continued
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MRS. MARY W. LEE.
to run from the severed arteries, and he grew weaker.
"Tell them I died happy," were his last words; and in death
his pale young face wore a smile.
Not long after the battle, all the field and regimental
hospitals were merged into one general hospital at Smoketown; and here Mrs. Lee was aided by a noble and efficient
corps of army workers -Miss Maria Hall, Mrs. Barlow,
Mrs. Husband, Mrs. Harris, and others, most of whom
labored through the war, and enjoyed the utmost confidence
of the surgeons and all who observed the superior character and spirit of their work.
During the fall many touching instances of noble youths
dying of their wounds, and making the last sacrifice for
their country, occurred among those daily visited by Mrs.
Lee. Among others was the case of Henry Cole, of the
Nineteenth Massachusetts. Hie had been wounded in the
leg, and strong hopes were entertained that he might recover. His mother came on from Massachusetts to nurse
him. Hie was her only child. As she bent over his cot,
and saw him gradually becoming weaker and more pallid,
tears fell fast on the coverlet, and she would exclaim, " 0,
if money could restore you, I'd gladly give all I have ill
this world."
He was a Christian, and a well-educated young gentleman; everything that a mother's heart, in its prde and its
unfathomable love could hope for in a son.  "O Henry,
my son," she would say, amid her tears, "when you are
gone, my light is gone out. I've nothing to live for."
"Mother," he would answer, "I am only going a little
while before you; we shall meet again-" Then, just before
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WO.IEN OF THE WAR.
he died, repeating these farewells, he added, "Tell all the
boys good-by for me, and tell them never to give up our
noble cause."
This hospital was blessed with the attendance and service
of a superior surg,eon-genleral in Dr. Vanderkieft, and a
most excellent and praiseworthy chaplain in Rev. Mr.
Sloan.  Hardly a soldier in the Smoketown Hospital but
loved him as a brother. Many a face tortured with pain
grew smooth when his cheerful countenance entered
the tent.
When the hospital was fully established, the tents were
divided between Mrs. Husband, Miss Hall, and Mrs. Lee;
and their labors, thus systematic and persistent, continued till some time in December, when the wounded at
Fredericksburg demanded attention.
Among Mrs. Lee's patients was one poor fellow who was
so weak and reduced that no food would remain in his
stomach. She tried every dish for which the hospital supplies afforded materials, but without reaching his case.
One day, in overhauling some stores, she discovered a bag
of Indian meal. " 0, I've found a prize!" she exclaimed.
"What is it?" asked the little fellow, who had been detailed
to act as her orderly.  "Indian meal, to be sure." "Pshaw!
I thought you had found a bag of dollars." "Better than
dollars now," was her reply, as she hurried away to the
tent where her poor patient lay.
"Sandburn," said she, "could you eat some mush?"
Don't know what that is - don't like any of your fancy
dishes." A boy on the next cot said, " Why, it's pudding
and milk."
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MRS. MARY W. LEE.
"0, yes," said the starving soldier, "I could eat a
bucketful of that!"  She made him some, and brought it
to him in a cup with milk, sweet milk, and it agreed with
him. Then he ate it three times a day, and soon could
take with it a little broiled squab, and began to gain
strength very fast. The discovery of that little sack of
corn meal had saved his life.
The religious exercises at this hospital were often deeply
interesting. Mr. Sloan was as much respected for piety as
he was beloved for his kindness.  Miss Hall commonly led
the singing; and many a touching, fervent, and wholesouled prayer for the Union and the army was offered by
men who would hobble in on crutches.  The more they
suffered ill the cause, the more they loved it.
While thus occupied at Antietam, Mrs. Lee heard with
alarm of the great explosion of powder at Harper's Ferry,
by which so many of the Seventy-seyond Pennsylvania were
killed or wounded. Her son was in that regiment. She
hurried up there, and labored some time among those sufferers, compounding for their burns a salve that was found
very grateful and healing. Her boy was fortunately not
injured hi the explosion.
From Antietam the hospital workers next went to Falmouth, on the Rappahannock, where the army was encamped,
after Burnside's unfortunate attack at Fredericksbprg. Upon
leaving Antietam, Dr. Vanderkieft expressed his opinion of
the character and worth of Mrs. Lee, and her labors there,
in the following terms:   It is with great pleasure that I bear witness to the invaluable services of Mrs. Lee in this hospital. She knew
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WOMEN OF THE WAR.
no rest while there were any who needed her assistance.
Her unwearied activity was a subject of universal comment,
among officers and men, and her untiring efforts in behalf
of patriots have won the love and esteem of all to whom
she has ministered. I commend Mrs. Lee to the highest
position that a noble and Christian woman call fill."
Chaplain Sloan, also, in a letter from Antietam, in which
he speaks of the workers there, says of Mrs. Lee: " None
of the newspaper notices tell half the story of her good
works.  Many a poor boy, that suffered here, will long
remember her kindness.   She labored harder,  and did
more to alleviate the pains and sufferings of the wounded
at Antietam than any three others."
This describes her labors at the Falmouth hospitals, and
all the others with which she was connected during the
three years of her army life. She was regular, persistent,
thorough, and obedient to the surgeons in all she did, and
all she gave to the soldiers. Her wards were always found
in perfect order, and well supplied.  For a great part of
the time she was placed in charge of the light diet and
special diet department, where her duties were laborious,
and often vexatious.
The rickety old stove upon which she prepared her food
for the sick was often in a wretched condition. When set
up in a tent it generally smoked, and fuel was not always
abundant, or of a good quality. Notwithstanding all these
discouragements, her  temper was always  cheerful, her
health perfect, and her duty performed with thoroughness
and punctuality.
After a temporary absence from Falmouth, with her sick
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MRS. MARY W. LEE.
son, in March, she returned, and was on duty among the
wounded at Chancellorsville.
She was at the Lacey House Hospital, and had a full view
of the storming of Mayre's Heights, by Sedgwick's corps,
on the 2d of May.
When that fierce engagement was at its height, the men
that had been wounded in the skirmishes of the dclays
previous all dragged themselves to the galleries and terraces of the house, Mrs. Lee helping them, and watched
the conflict with eager forgetfulness of their own sufferings.
When at length Sedgwick, and the brave Sixth corps, after
two repulses, made the final and triumphant charge, sweeping over the battlements from which Burnside had been so
terribly repulsed in December, everybody that had a well
arm raised it, with ringing cheers, over his head, and
shouted, till their brave companions on the other side heard
and answered back their triumph.  Mrs. Lee stood by her
little cooking tent, wiping dishes, and joined in the general
delight by waving her towel, as a flag, and shouting with
the rest.  She did more than this.  She fell upon her
knees, and thanked God that those formidable lines, from
which the Union forces had been so often repulsed with
frightful carnage, were at last carried, and the national flag
waved in triumph over them.
But the eight thousand wounded that came pouring
across the Rappahannock soon engrossed the attention of
every one who could do anything for their relief, and Mrs.
Lee, with the other ladies, labored all day, and a considerable part of each night, striving to mitigate some of the
accumulated suffering and pain.
157 
WOMEN OF I   WAR.
Some of her patients at the "Lacey House" interested
MIrs. Lee very deeply. One, Frederick Allen, from IKendall's Mills, was very sick with typhoid pneumonia, and the
doctor ordered stimulants. Frederick refused to take anything containing alcohol, saying he had given his mother a
solemn promise that he would not take any while in the
army. No inducement could prevail, until his father came
down, and told him his mother released him from his
promise, as she knew it was to save his life. He recovered
health, and was in all the battles with his regiment. At
Bristow Station he was color guard, and the regiment captured several guns. In the battle of the Wilderness he
was wounded slightly in the arm, and went to the rear, but
returned very soon, and received a severe wound in the
head, and was disabled for several weeks. Returning to
his regiment, he  fought around Petersburg, till again
attacked by typhoid pneumonia, of which he died only a
few days before Lee's surrender -a brave and noble youth
as ever shouldered arms; a soldier of the Cross no less
than of the starry flag.
Mr. Allen and his family became greatly attached to Mrs.
Lee on account of her kindness to Frederick and other
soldiers.   Upon his return home,  he begged of Miss
Amanda Lee the photograph of her mother, and acknowledged the receipt of it in the following terms: —.
I can think of no better title thanfriend to address you
by, for it seems to me that one having so good a mother as
you have must be a friend to God and humanity.
"But to the question of your mother's picture: we received it the next day after it was mailed; it did not stop in
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MRS. MARY W. LEE.
Massachusetts at all. The postmaster had written under
Mass.,'Troy, Maine,' and it came right along; and a beautiful picture it is, too. We have got a nice oval frame for
it, and then we had her name and residence printed at the
bottom of the picture; and I tell you it is a splendid thing.
Then we have hung it in the centre of the mantel piece, with
a soldier boy on each side, and our own dear son, Fred,
in the middle; and, as they are arranged, your mother
seems to be watching over them, as I have seen her in the
hospital, on the Rappahannock. I wish you could step in
and see them thus arranged: you might well feel proud of
your mother."
Mrs. Lee was at Gettysburg as soon as the cannon smoke
had cleared away from the blood-stained hillside, and
labored in the Second corps hospital, and also at Letterman General Hospital, for three months following the
great battle.
One of the patients who died here, on her hands, was
Aaron Wills, color corporal in the Sevenlty-second Pennlsylvania volunteers, the regiment in which her son was serving.
A ball struck the flag,staff, and shattered it. Aaron wrapped
the flag, around his arm, and shouted, "Don't let the colors
fall, boys!"  The next moment a ball struck him in a vital
part, and he fell, yet held the flag up so that it would not
touch the ground, till it was taken from his faithful hands,
and carried on at the head of the regiment.
A year after, on the anniversary of his son's death, the
father of Aaron Wills wrote an affecting letter to Mrs.
Lee.  "To-day," he says, "I walked out to the cemetery,
to look at the little mound that covers the remains of my
159 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
beloved boy. As I looked, the words of his last letter,
those blessed words, came into my mind:'Father, do not
worry at my being in a dangerous position. I believe, as
you say, I can die in no nobler cause; and, to tell you the
truth, I would as soon die on the battle-field as I would a
natural death.' He need not have said,'to tell you the
truth,' for he never told a lie."
One of her most valued reminiscences of Gettysburg is a
letter of thanks, drawn up and numerously signed by the
boys in whose ward she had acted as nurse.  They say,
MRS. LEE.
Dear Madam: We now hasten to express to you our
thanks for the numerous luxuries and kind services we
have received from you, as from the hands of our own
kind mothers, for which we shall ever feel grateful to you.
While endeavoring  to meet the, urgent  calls of our
wronged country, we had the misfortune to be wounded far
from home, and, as we thought, firom friends. Here we
have found your kind hand to care for us, and alleviate our
wants as much as possible. We shall ever feel grateful to
you for such motherly care as can never be forgotten; and
besides the thousand thanks bestowed on you, the God of
our country will ever bless you with a special blessing —if
not now, surely you will receive it hereafter. 
This testimonial was signed by a large number in Ward
B, Sixth division, General Hospital, Gettysburg.
Sickness in the family of Mrs. Lee detained her at home
during a part of the winter of 1863-64; but she went
160 
MRS. MARY W. LEE.
down to Brandy Station, which was the hospital centre of
Meade's army, in January, February, and March, 1864.
Here she was connected with the hospital of the Second
division, Second corps, where were the wounded at the
action of Morton's Ford.
Here she found Dr. Sawyer and Dr. Aiken, two physicians, who, for kindness and self-sacrificing devotion to the
health, cheerfulness, and comfort of the soldier, had no
superiors in the army of the Potomac.  With such efficient
aid in the nursing department as was rendered by such
ladies as Mrs. Husband and Mrs. Lee, this General Hospital
soon became the model for all the army. For cleanliness,
order, cheerfulness, and the home-like air which surrounded
it, no corps hospital was equal to it.
One of the boys, under Mrs. Lee's care, received a letter
from his mother, saying that she was coming to see him, and
asking what supplies and luxuries she had better bring with
her. " Bring nothing but yourself, mother," was his reply:
this is not a hospital; it is a home."
About the middle of April, just before Grant's advance,
Mrs. Lee returned home for a few days. But no sooner had
he moved in the first days of May, than he found obstinate
resistance from the rebel leader, and the great battles
of the Wilderness and Spottsylvania were fought. The
engagement commenced on the 5th, and was continued till
the 12th of May, Grant being "determined to fight it out
on that line, if it took all summer."
There was, of course, a vast number of wounded, and
the demand for hospital workers was never more urgent
than during the months of May and June, 1864. Mrs.
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161 
WOOIEN OF TIE WAR.
Lee made her way to Fredericksburg, and found that warbattered old town one vast hospital. The first and great
clamor was for food. Transportation from Belle Plain was
slow, on account of the fearful condition of the roads; and
though the enemy was crippled and falling slowly back to
Richmond, and Fredericksburg is only a day's ride from
Washington, thousands and thousands of our men suffered
constantly from hunger. Upon Mrs. Lee's arrival, Dr. Bannister gave her the charge of the special diet of the Second
corps.  The kitchen furniture with which she was supplied
consisted of one small tin cup, and there was no source
from which the proper utensils could be obtained. Mrs.
Lee remembered, however, that the year before, Mrs.
Harris, at the Lacey House, on the other side of the Rappahannock, had left a cooking stove, which might be there
yet. Obtaining an ambulance, and going over on the pontoon, she found the old stove, dilapidated, indeed, and
rusty; but she could make gruel and panllada on it. She
found some old kettles, too, which she took over, and
scoured up, so that in a few hours a kitchen had been extemporized. The boys broke up clapboards and pickets
for fuel, and soon the buckets of gruel, tea, and coffee, and
bowls of chicken soup, began to circulate among, the famishing heroes. As long as she remained in Fredericksburg,
nmid, in fact, all that summer, from daylight till long after
the nine o'clock drum-taps, she did little but cook, cook,
cook. Sometimes, just as the hospital had become composed for the night, and the old campaign stove had grown
cool for the first time in eighteen hours, an immense train
of ambulances would come rolling in from the front, all
162 
MRLS. MAPRY W. LEE.
loaded down with men, sick, wounded, dusty, and famishimg.   There was no other way but to rise, and work,
perhaps, till long past midnight. It was fortunate that
with such willingness of heart and such skill, nay, such
genius, as she displayed for cooking under all the disadvantag,es of camp life, Mrs. Lee had also a robust constitution and excellent health; otherwise she must have
broken down under the long-continued labors and sleeplessness of that last grand campaign against Richmond.
From Fredericksburg she went, over land, to White
House; and there Miss Cornelia Hancock, of New Jersey,
and Mrs. Lee assisted Dr. Aiken to dress the wounds and
give nourishment to a long train of the wounded that were
placed on transports and carried to northern hospitals.
Remaining here some days, she proceeded next to City
Point, which Grant had now made his base of supplies and
his hospital centre.
For some time the accumulation of wounded here was far
greater than could in any small degree be made comfortable. Many a night Mrs. Lee stood by the fly of her little
kitchen tent, and looked upon long rows of helpless and
bleeding men lying on the ground, sometimes with a little
straw beneath and a blanket over them, all waiting, in mute
and touching patience, for their turn to come to be taken up
and cared for.  At night such rows of silent sufferers2 lying
there in the moonlight, looked so much like graves, and
summoned up, in a heart as sympathetic as hers, such
troops of melancholy thoughts, that she could not look at
them without shedding tears.
At City Point, among the wounded from Petersburg, Mrs.
163 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Lee had some noble-minded and heroic men as her hospital
patients. One was Major William F. Smith, of the First
Delaware. Wounded severely in the leg, he suffered
amputation, and death followed. He had been severely
wounded at Fredericksburg, and again at  Gettysburg.
When urged by his friends to expose his life less freely,
"No," he would reply, "I am  no better than any other
soldier." They urged him to remember how much it would
grieve his mother. "I know it," said he; "but I am no
better than any other mother's son." When informed that
he could not live, he thanked the doctors for the pains.they
had taken with his case: "You have done all that you
could for me, but Providence has some wise end in view ill
overruling your efforts." His last words to his young
brother were, "Kiss mother for me, Lee."
Another, who sealed his devotion with his blood, was
Lieutenant-Colonel  John  A.  Crosby, of  the Sixty-first
Pennsylvania volunteers. He had entered the service as
orderly sergeant, was badly wounded in both hips at Fredericksburg, and afterwards lost an  arm  fighting before
WVashington, in Early's last invasion.  When his friends
remonstrated with him for keeping the field thus mutilated,
he said, "My country has had my arm. She is welcome to
my life." Before leaving home for the last time, he bade his
wife and family good by, telling them he should never see
them again on earth. Those who knew him best, say that
no better man or braver soldier ever died for his country.
He fell in the last great battle of the war before Petersburg,
in April, 1865.
A poor German boy was killed at the same time, and his
heart-broken mother went on from Baltimore to get his
164 
MIRS. MARY W. LEE.
body. Mrs. Lee gave the poor woman all the assistance
in her power, saw the dead soldier in his cofinu, and sympathized with the mother.
Upon her return, and after the burial, Mrs. Lee received
from the mother the following letter, which is all the
more interesting for its honest simplicity as well as its
broken English:          -
BALTIMORE, April 19, 1865.
HONORABLE MRS. M. LEE:
After I left City Point for Baltimore wish my dear son,
I arrifet safe home, only wish a broken hart, on the 11th in
the morning. We cept him till the 12th in the evening,
and took him up to Pansilvaniae, to hes broter and sisters.
The 15th, in the morningo, he arrifet saf at hes stat of rest.
Rev. D. Izenbury atent the funerl, and Bregt, hes text John
11th and 11th, and a great many tears has being shatt for
hem. I arrifet at My home the 17th in the morning. I
am so troubelt in my Mint and Week that I could not rite,
and ask for barten me and excus me for not ansern zuner.
My humbel dank to your Virtues and faver which you
showed to me.  I would ask your Kindness, if you ples.
I wase so trobelt to see to every ting, namely my Soln hat
a very good Watch, and I would lik to have that for Membery, ples, and ask Mr. Geo. W. Low, Company F. 190th
Penn. Vols. Fifth Core Hospital City PointVa. My Love and
best Respect to Mrs. Hart and Mrs. Polk and Mrs. Ashe.
My Love and best Respect to you
from your obedien servent,
PAULINE BusH.
P. S.  Ef et should be not mutch to your trobel and you
can com tru here, gif me a call.
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WO,MEN OF THE WAR.
Among many such letters received by Mrs. Lee during
her three years of army life, the following? from a bereaved
mother in New Hampshire, cannot be read by any mother
who lost a boy in the army without unsealing the fountains
of old grief.
Forever precious are such letters - consecrated by the
sacred baptism of tears that ooze like life-blood from
broken hearts!
WINDHAM, May 8, 1864.
MY DR  MRs. LEE:
I had not received the painful intelligence of my beloved
son's death until Friday afternoon. My heart is filled with
sorrow; my grief I cannot express. You have a beloved
son in the army. Dear Thomas told me of you and of your
son in one of his letters. He told me there was a woman
in the hospital by the name of Mrs. Lee; he said you were
as kind to the soldiers as a mother, and that they all loved
you as a mother.  He said you were an angel.  I wrote to
him that I was happy to hear him say that there was an
angel in his tent; for I never ceased to pray to God, my
heavenly Father, that he would send his holy angels into
his tent, to guide him by day and guard him by night.
He wrote me, the day he went into the hospital, that he had
the rheumatism in his arms and legs, but thought he should
be able to go back to his regiment.  I did pot feel much
alarmed about him.  He then wrote to me he had  the
measles very lightly, but the cough hung on, as it always
does.
His last letter was written to me March 29. He said
he thought he was about rid of the measles, but the lame
166 
MRS. DLARY W. LEE.
ness was no better. Dear Mrs. Lee, I beg you to write
me, and give all the particulars about my darling son.
Were you with him in his last sickness?  I suppose he
was a great sufferer. Will you write when he was first
taken with the fever, and if he was conscious of the
approach of death. Did he speak of his mother or sister,
or father or brother? Lieutenant Milton wrote me that
he died the 9th of April. You will please to tell me
at what hour, and when he was buried. Tell me if he
lost his flesh.
0, I shall never, never again see my darling boy in this
world! never again hear his joyous laugh!  O  Mrs. Lee,
can you sympathize with me?  I am thinking of your own
darling son.  May  be now  the battle rages!  May our
heavenly Father protect your dear son, and return him
safe to you.
Will you please to ascertain the place where Thomas K.
Ripley is buried.  We shall bring his body home as soon as
we can have permission.  I have sent three letters to my
son; two the last week in March; one had a five-dollar bill
in it. Do you know if he received the money?
I pray that you will write to me as soon as you can, and
I will satisfy you for it. If there is a pocket-book or letters
left behind, you will please save them for his poor, afflicted
mother.
My dear friend, I hope you will write to me; it will be
a great consolation to my bereaved heart. I am much
afflicted, and can hardly write. This is terrible!
MRS. MARY D. RIPLEY,
(Wife of Nathaniel Ripley.)
e
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WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Having thus sympathized in the sufferings and disasters
of our soldiers, and in the agony that their death occasioned
at so many firesides, it was fit that Mrs. Lee should be
present at the happy consummation, and join in that grand
paean of victory, that, commencing at Richmond, in the
first days of April, went swelling, in a glorious chorus,
from the Atlantic to the Pacific shores.
In the hospital where Mrs. Lee then was, the exultations
of the poor, languishing soldiers were full of almost
frantic joy.
"Such a time!" she writes; "the people nearly went
crazy. Hospital help, ladies, wounded and all, were beside themselves. Processions were formed, kettles improvised for drums; all kinds of noises were made to manifest
our joy.  Bells were rungs,, cannon fired, steam whistles
blown; men cheered and shouted themselves hoarse.
President Lincoln visited the hospital while I was there.
He went round to every man, and said he wanted to shake
the hand of every man who had helped to gain so glorious
a victory; and he had a kind word for all."
In the hospitals of Petersburg and Richmond Mrs.
Lee continued for a month  after Lee's surrender;  for,
though the war was ended, there remained a great multitude of the sick, and those wounded in the last engagements..
Then, when there were no more homeless and suffering
patriots;  no  more wounds  to be stanched;  no  more
long trains of ambulances, with their groaning and bleeding freightage; no more  caldrons of gruel and mutton
soup to be cooked for great wards full of half-famished
*;.,...-p.  A<._._
168 
MRS. MARY W. LEE.
boys, Mrs. Lee  went home,  and  slipped back into the
happy routine of domestic usefulness.
Into those womanly duties she carries the rich coinsciousness of having given herself up entirely, for three
laborious but happy years, to the exercise of heavenly
charities, and to the practice of that mercy that is twice
blessed.
169
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MISS MAJOR PAULINE CUSHMAN.
TH IS brilliant and impulsive being, whose life, if it
could be fully written, would sound like some tale of
romance, is of French and Spanish descent, and was born
in New Orleans, in 1833. As she grew to womanhood,
the charms of her person and the impressiveness of her
manners drew her irresistibly to the stage, where she has
had a brilliant career.
When tLx war commenced, in 1861, she was playing an
engagement in Cleveland, Ohio, and soon after went to
Louisville, where her histrionic success continued, and was
even greater than ever before. Early in the year 1863,
while playing in WVood's Theatre, she received many attentions from paroled rebel officers, who were then in Louisville; and, with the desire of making that foolish and illtimed parade of secession sentiment, which was so often
considered true bravery among them, one of these officers
proposed to her to offer, in the midst of one of her parts, a
toast to Jeff Davis and the Southern Confederacy.  She
consented to do so; and, upon reflection, it occurred to
liss Cushman that here was afforded her an admirable
opportunity of serving her country, and at the same time
gratifying her own love of romance and wild adventure.
She at once sought and obtained an interview with Colonel
(170) 
MISS PAULINE CUSHMAN.
Moore, the provost marshal, who, after serious consultation,
and becoming convinced of her genuine loyalty, received
her proposition to enter the secret service of the United
States.
She took the formal and solemn oath administered before
entering that hazardous branch of the service; and the following night, in the midst of her part, and while the
crowded theatre had all eyes riveted upon her graceful
acting, proposed this astounding toast:  "Here's to Jeff
Davis and the Southern Confederacy. May the South
always maintain her honor and her rights."
The sentiment fell upon the audience like the explosion
of a shell. All the loyal persons present were at once mortified and indignant, while the southern sympathizers were
delighted. Very prompt action was taken. Miss Cushman
was formally expelled from the theatrical corps, and sent
south, in the direction of her " sympathies," to be lionized
as a victim of Yankee tyranny. She went to Nashville,
and sought an interview with Colonel Truesdale, the chief
of army police, who gave her the most minute instructions
and details as to the information which she must endeavor
to obtain in the rebel lines.  Thus equipped, and with full
confidence in luck and her mimetic talent, she started out
on the Hardin Pike, as the people there call the road
which leads from Nashville in the direction of Shelbyville.
Within a few days, and amid a variety of adventures, she
was able to collect many important items of information,
with which she was about to return to Nashville, when for a
time the run of good fortune was changed; and one night,
while stopping at the house of a quiet farmer, by the name
4
171
I 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
of Baum, she found herself under arrest, and was ushered
into the presence of that renowned guerrilla and marauder,
Jack Morgan. Jack had too much chivalry to be anything
but civil to a prisoner so fair, young, and fascinating, and
was truly profuse in his generosity as he was conducting
her to Forrest's headquarters, offering the beautiful Pauline
all his friendship, a magnificent diamond ring, and a
silver-mounted revolver, and urging her to accept a posi tion as aid-de-camp on his staff, as soon as she should be
released.
Forrest she found a rougher custodian, and much less
susceptible, than "Johnnie," as she familiarly called the
other freebooter. Her first interview with him was a fine
piece of melodrama, and would have excited applause and
admiration in any theatre in the country.
"Well," said the hero of the card-table and the bowieknife, "I'm really glad to see you; I've been looking for
you a long time; but I've got this last shuffle, and intend to
hold you. You've been here before, I take it -know all
the roads - don't you? and all the bridle paths, and even
the hog paths - don't you?"
Our heroine, drawing herself to her full height, and flashimg indignant scorn from her black eyes, exclaimed,    Sir, every word you utter is as false as your own traitorous heart! I've never been here before, and I should like
to send a bullet through the man who is mean enough to
make the charge."
The ruffian gazed on her a moment, and with the savage
gleam of the eye that he afterwards wore at Fort Pillow,
replied, " Yes, and I'd send one through you, if I could,
172 
MISS PAULINE CUSHMAN.
if you dared to repeat the assertion." Then his admiration
for pluck got the better of his temper, and he added:
Well, you've got good fighting stuff in you, if you are a
woman."
In the sharp skirmish of cross-questioning which followed, her womn's wit enabled her to spring a doubt in
the mind of the cautious desperado, and he turned her over
to Provost Marshal General McKinstry, who, he assured
her, was a humane and just man, and would investigate
the charges made against her, and decide on them with
fairness.
After a little more bandying of words, the fair Pauline
was dispatched to the headquarters of General Bragg; and
as she rode away, Johnnie Morgan bade her adieu in the
following, elegant vernacular:   Good-by; I hope we shall meet again, where we shall
have something better than corn tread baked in ashes, and
rot-gut whiskey at fifteen dollars a quart."
Some months after, she saw the great marauder under
circumstances very different. He had been captured, in
his famous raid north of the Ohio, and was confined, like
any other felon, in the Penitentiary at Columbus, in prison
stripe, and with hair dressed by the prison barber. Advancing
to him, she held out her hand, and laughingly exclaimed,
"How are you, Johnnie?"    Ah," replied the jolly rebel,
"the boot is on the other foot now."
Bragg she found a different man from either of the cavalry chieftains; and her talk with him was not so spicy, nor
so cheerful in its termination.
She saw before her a bony, angular, sharp-pointed man,
173 
WOMEN OF THiE WAR.
without kindness or humanity, or any of the milder parts
of human nature in his composition; of blunt address, impatient gestures, and heartless physiognomy.
Her colloquy with this cast-iron rebel ran somewhat as
follows:  Bragg.  Of what country are you?
Pauline. I am of French and Spanish descent.
Bragg.  Where were you born?
Pauline. In New Orleans.
Bragg. Your speech savors of the Yankee twang.
Pauline. Well, as an actress, I've been playing Yankee
parts so long that I suppose I've caught the " twang."
Bragg. But to the point: you have important papers in
your possession, and if they prove you to be a spy, nothing
can save you from a little hemp.
Pauline (carelessly). Well, go on; root the whole
thing up, if you like.
Bragg (picking up a package of letters). Without sending out any spies, I know what goes on at the Yankee headquarters better than the clerks there know.
Pauline.  Suppose I am found guilty; what will you do
with me?
Bragg. Why, you'll be hanged; that's all.
Pauline. Come, now, general, I don't think I'll be either
useful nor ornamental dangling at the end of a rope.
Won't you let me choose my method of dying?
Bragg. Well, really, I couldn't, as you might choose to
die in your bed, in the natural way.
Pauline. Come, now, won't shooting do just as well?
It wouldn't hurt quite so bad, you know.
174 
MISS PAULINE CUSHMAN.
This interview had given our light-hearted heroine an
idea. She was soon after taken very ill, and seemed in a
fair way to cheat the general out of his pleasant little
amusement of hanging a female, for she was tried (or was
so informed, at least), found guilty, and condemned.  The
execution was delayed only by-her continued sickness. At
the eleventh hour her fortune changed. As our heroine
was lying on her cot one fine morning in the last days of
June, feeling that she would soon be well enough to be
hung, there were signs at the headquarters of the rebel
general of sudden commotion; and, before she was informed what it meant, the joyous sound of the Union bugles,
playing the national airs, reached her sick room; and soon
Rosecrans' advance guard was in town.  Bragg had fled for
the mountains, and she no longer felt the terrors of her
unfortunate position.
General Garfield, in consideration of her long service,
and suffering and danger, in the Union cause, and of two
severe wounds, received while engaged in the secret service,
conferred on the heroine the rank and title of major, by
which she was afterwards commonly known.
175
I 
MRS. JOHIN HARRIS.
T the very outset of the war, before the blood had
commenced to flow in the long fratricidal strife, a
group of ladies'in Philadelphia met and organized a system
of relief for the sufferings and privations which they knew
must follow in the train of war.
They were mostly members of the church of Rev. Dr.
Boardman,  and had frequently cooperated in charitable
labors for the destitute or ignorant of their own community or in pagan lands.
Mrs. Joel Jones was made the president of this associationl, and Mrs. Stephen Colwell was its treasurer. Its
secretary was one of those delicate, fragile, and feeble-looking ladies who are apparently condemned to lives of patient
suffering and inactivity by constitutional defect of physical
vigor. She was known merely as a lady of warm personal
piety, and excellent but mild and unobtrusive sense.
Charitable and beneficent she had been in her quiet, daily
life; but any aspirations that she may have had to wide,
national, and laborious activity, were apparently quenched
in the demands for passive endurance which almost constant illness made  upon  her.   A  heroine of Christian
patience she might become, one would say; one of the uncounted sisterhood of silent pain, whose sighs are reckoned
(176) 
MIRS. JOHN HARRIS.
and whose chambers of suffering are visited by the angel
who stood beside the mute Wrestler in Gethsemane. Yet
she it was, this pallid and low-voiced lady, who, when the
brazen trumpet of war rang across the continent, glided
from her sick chamber, and entered upon a self-imposed
and self-directed career of Christian and sanitary labors,
more extended, more arduous, and more potent for good,
than any other that can be found in American annals.
If there were any such vain decorations of human approbation as a crown, or a wreath, or a star for her, who in
our late war has done the most, and labored the longest,
who visited the greatest number of hospitals, prayed with
the greatest number of sntfferilng and dying soldiers, penetrated nearest to the front, and underwent the greatest
amount of fatigue and exposure for the soldier, -that
crown or that star would be rightfully given to Mrs. John
Harris, of Philadelphia.
. Yet not one in all the noble sisterhood is more indifferent
than she to all human applause. What she did was not to
be seen or praised of men. It was other than the crown
that     human fingers can weave her that she sought,
"The perfect witness of all-judging Jove."
Very soon after the organization of the Ladies' Aid
Society, Mrs. Harris saw that work at the front and in
hospitals was imperatively demanded.
After the first battle of Manassas, hospitals were created
in Washington and along the Potomac. These rapidly increased, both in the number of their patients and in the
amount of suffering and want they contained, as the
12
177 
WOMENI OF THE WAR.
demands of the war at first far outran the sources of supply. Her first visits to the front were immediately after
the first bloodshed, and though no heavy battles were
fought in Virginia till the following summer, when we
remember that over two hundred thousand men were suddenly transferred from civil to military life, it will not
appear strange that there were full hospitals all along the
Potomac for miles above and. below Washingtonl. At that
time there was no one in America who could be said to
have a full practical knowledge of mlilitary surgery and
hygiene. The European systems needed important modifications before they could be successfully applied to our
army and our people.  In the mean time, as the ponderous
machinery was becoming adjusted, Mrs. Harris devoted
herself to alleviating suffering as she found it, and where
-she found it, bringing to the work the clear practical sense
of a person perfectly familiar with housekeeping in all
its details.
Before the army moved in the spring of 1862, Mrs.
Harris had visited more than a hundred hospitals, making
donations of such articles as she had received from the
society at home, and suggesting various simple but effective
arrangements for the preparation and distribution of food
for the sick.  When the army moved out to Manassas in
March, and soon after was transferred to the Peninsula,
her exertions and exposures were made to correspond with
those of the men.
When she entered upon these labors she seems to have
been inspired by twofold motives, both alike blessed. Her
sympathies embraced all the wants of suffering, dying men;
178 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
and in the details that follow, the full, sad, and touching
story of her labors by a thousand death-beds, on the field,
in hospital tents, in sheler tents, in transports, or in lodges
for the refugees, we are at a loss which most to admire in
Mrs. Harris - the practical good sense with which she
labored for the physical comfort of sufferers, or the abounding Christian zeal and love with which she alwvays strove to
make sacred impressions onl the minds of those she met;
the saintly spirit in which she knelt by the dying, and whispered words of celestial consolation into ears that were
growing deaf to all human voices.
To  how many  she  thus  ministered, and  with what
blessed results, no human  records  can possibly inform
us.   Hundreds, if they ever  testify of her kindness,
and of the supreme consolations received from her lips,
will speak of her in the upper kingdom, and on the
peaceful shore. 
And how many, if they could speak from the rude
soldier graves where they were buried, would say the last
they knew was the touch of her soft hand onl their clammy
forehead, her low voice at their ear whispering of the
Lamb that was slain for them, the sacrifice that atones for
all, the blood that washes away sin!
But her name is cherished and linked with the most
sacred and touching memories, on many a far-off hill-side,
and in many a lonely cottage; for from her pen came the
last record that ever reached them of the hero boy who was
wounded on the Chickahominy, or at Manassas or Antietam,
and died in a hospital; of the dying patriot, who, with
glazing eye and shortening breath, begged of her to take
179 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the ring from his finger when he was laid out, and to cut a
lock of his hair, and send them to her.
Fortunately the records of thee labors of patriotic zeal
and Christian love are more numerous and in better preservation than those of many who were her fellow-laborers.
As the secretary of the Ladies' Aid Society, she wrote
constantly and very full letters to its president in Philadelphia; and, in compiling their semi-annual reports, these
ladies very wisely published copious selections from Mrs.
Harris' admirable productions, and thus imparted, to what
would otherwise have been a mere business pamphlet,
touching interest and lasting value.
The first that we hear of Mrs. Harris, in these reports, is
at Fairfax Seminary, early in the spring of 1862, before
the enemy had moved down to the Peninsula, and when a
battle was supposed to be imminent at or near Manassas
Junction.  She took with her to the general hospitals, in
and near Alexandria, a large nunber of boxes sent to the
Ladies' Aid Society, and was engaged for some time in a
careful and judicious distribution of their contents. At one
place she found two hundred poor fellows, who had been
thrown into anl unfinished hospital, some of them lying
around on piles of shavings, and some stretched on the
work-benches.  They made few complaints, however; but
they did think some improvement might be made in
their tea, and Mrs. Harris pushed her way to the cookroom, to see if she could make a useful suggestion. Talking the matter over with the cook, she found the plant was
not in fault, nor the water; but all the pot he had for his
two hundred men was a new cast-iron caldron, in which he
180 
MRS. JOHN HIIARRIS. 
boiled his soup, vegetables, umeat, and tea in succession,
each mess waiting its turn.  Mrs. Harris at once went out,
and without troubling anybody with a requisition, succeeded
in getting, for three dollars, a very good boiler, which had
originally cost ten.  "You would all say I could not have
used three dollars more wisely, could you have heard the
poor fellows tell how much improved their tea was."
But the Potomac ceased, for a few months, to be the
principal theatre of the strife; and we find Mrs. Harris, in
May, laboring in the hospitals at Fortress Monroe, full of
those who had sickened on the Peninsula, in the first
month of picket and trench duty before Yorktown,  and
the wounded of both armies at Williamsburg,.   On the
21st of May, she writes,
" Mrs. D. in the Chesapeake and Miss S. in the Hygeia
Hospitals are noble women.   I cannot speak of all their
worth, nor can I describe the state' of things here.  No
language can give the faintest idea of the scenes of suffering and deadly anguish through which we are passing.
MIy dear friend, say to the ladies, that no sacrifice thley can
make would be felt as such could they look upon the pains,
the groans, the dyiong strife, of hundreds of the brave fellows whom we saw embark but two months since at Alexandria, then full of buoyancy, and eager for the conflict
which was to vindicate the honor of our flag, ald cover
their names with glory. Could you have visited with me,
on Saturday, the largest ward of the Hygeia Hospital, your
whole being would have thrilled with anguish. Friend and
foe are crowded together without distinction - all suffering.
The first one approached had been wounded in the thigh
181 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
and arm. The leg had been amputated, and an extraction
made of the broken bones in the arm. Surgeons had been
probing the diseased portions, not heeding the shrieks of
the sufferer, whom I found covered with cold sweat, and
nearing the dark valley; indeed, the mists of the valley
were settling over him. When the gracious words,'Come
unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will
give you rest,' were spoken, the suffering one looked up,
and exclaimed,'Rest, rest! 0, where, where?'  JIn the
bosom of Jesus, if you will but lay your sins on him, and
your suffering, throbbing heart close to his, you will be
filled with rest in all the fulness of its meaning.' He tried
to stay his faith on the'Rock;' but very soon the unseen
closed him in, and left us vainly endeavoring to follow the
departing soul.
Next him sat a boy from Carolina, who had been shot
through the body, and could not lie sown. The poor fellow
was soliloquizing, in low, tremulous tones, his eyes shut,
thus:'This poor boy was in the battle of Bull Run; left
his mother on the 12th of April; she prayed for him, and
almost broke her heart weeping. He wrote to his mother
that he was safe and well.  And then he got along, seeing
a good many hard times, till the battle of Williamsburg.
There a ball went through his body, and poor mother will
never see her boy again.   What a pity'- yes, a mighty
pity-.' I listened for a time with a bursting heart, and
then took his hand, and said,' Shall I be your mother, and
comfort you?'   Yes,' he said, in a childish way (he was
only nineteen),  I'll try and think she is here.'  After a
short talk, in which Jesus was held up to the dying boy as
182 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
better even than a mother, he begged me to write to his
mother'a very long letter, sending a lock of my hair; but
you needn't take the hair now; say everything to comfort
her; but,' he added,' I want her to know how her poor boy
suffers; yes, I do that, she would feel so for me.' He lingered till Monday; and, after a painful operation, sank
away most unexpectedly, and when I got there was in the
dead-house.   So I went into that dismal place, full of
corpses, and cut a lock from the dead boy's head, and enclosed it to the mother, adding some words of comfort for
the sorrow-stricken. He had received a religious training, and told me to tell his mother he would meet her in
heaven.
"Next him was a young man from Massachusetts - a face
full of gentleness, but wearing a painful, anxious expression.
He was not quite certain that he was on the right foundation, and shrank from death." 
Next him lay a young Alabamian.  He  was evidently
past all surgical aid, and Mrs. Harris could only do as she
had with his fellow-sufferer from Carolina - pray with him,
and whisper consolatory words of Christ, and take a lock
of his hair to send to his mother, with some account of how
and where her boy had died.  Her letters were often interrupted by calls to come to this dying man, or that suffering boy; yet all this time her practical labors were not
suspended.
She had with her ten boxes, five of which she appropriated to the Chesapeake and five to the Williamsburg
Hospital, and wrote very earnestly to Philadelphia for
eggs, butter, port wine, crackers, green tea, bandages,
183 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
lint, pickles, and shirts.  "Pads and cushions, of every
imaginable shape and form, are in demand. Oil silk
greatly, very greatly needed."
A few days later, in June, about the time the battle of Fair
Oaks was fought, we find Mrs. HIarris on the Vanderbilt,
which had just been loaded with seven hundred wounded
from that field.  Many of them had eaten nothing for three
or four days, and the first cry that met her ears was for tea
and bread.  Making her way into the cook-room, she took
hold with her own experienced hands; and she tells us how
glad she felt when the great boiler was heating with three
pounds of tea in it, and she had five or six gallons of gruel
bubbling for the boys. Meantime she bought and cut up
twenty-five loaves of bread, spreading jelly between the
slices, and soon had tea passed around in buckets.  Then she
made her way into the hold, and gave the sick some pickles,
which they said did them more good'than all the medicine.
WVine she added to the gruel, and it was relished "you cannot
tell how much." One poor wounded boy she speaks of, exhausted with the loss of blood and long fasting, who looked
up, after taking the first nourishment he could swallow
since the battle of Saturday, then four days, and exclaimed,
with face radiant with gratitude and pleasure, "0, that is
life to me; I feel as if twenty years were given me
to live."
Laboring thus all day, she was overtaken by a shower
when goiing, back to the Hygeia Hospital, and reached her
room with every garment saturated, where she lay down
"aching inl every bone, with heart and head throbbing,
unwilling to cease work while so much was to be done, but
184 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
fell asleep at last, from sheer exhaustion," the latest sounds
that fell upon her ear being groans from the operating room.
On the afternoon of the next day (or the next but one),
she describes the scenes on board another vessel, in like
mannler freighted with suffering.
"The afternoon," she writes, "found us on board the
Louisiana, where fearful sights met us.  The whole day
had been spent in operating.  In one pile lay seventeen
arms, hands, feet, and legs. A large proportion of the
wounded had undergone mutilation in some important
member. Many must die. Four lay with their faces covered, dying or dead. Many had not had their wounds
dressed since the battle, and were in a sad state already.
One brave fellow, from Maine, had lost both legs, and bore
up with wonderful firmness.  Upon my saying to him,'You
have suffered much for your country; we cannot thank you
enoug,h,' he replied,'O, well, you'hadn't ought to thank
me. I went of my own accord, in a glorious cause. God
bless McClellan.'
"And here let me say, the young lady, Miss B., whom I
brought with me, spent the wliole of Friday night on board
the Louisiana, dressing and caring for the wounded. When
I left the boat, at eleven o'clock at night, I was oblliged to
wash all my skirts, being drabbled in the mingled blood of
Federal and Confederate soldiers, which coveredmnany por tions of the floor.  I was obliged to kneel between them to
wash their faces. This is war."
During the latter part of June Mrs. Harris continued
these arduous labors nearer the front. Much of the time
she was on Dudley Farm and at Savage's Station, so near the
185 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
battle line that the balls and shells whizzed over where she
was at work. The style of labor here was much the same
as on the ships. At one time, as she was passiing a house,
the sentinel told her there was a captain of a Maine regi ment very sick within.
She describes the scene thus: "We went in, no door
obstructing, and there, upon a stretcher, in a corner of
the room, opening directly upon the road, lay an elegantlooking youth, struggling with the last great enemy. His
mind was wandering, and as we approached him, he exclaimed,'Is it not cruel to keep me here, when my mother
and sister, whom I have not seen for a year, are in the next
room?  They might let me go in.'  Only for an instant did
he seem to have a glimpse of the real, when he drew two
rings from his finger, placed there by the loved ones,
handed them to an attendant, sayingl,'Carry them home.'
Then he was amid battle scenes, sho'uting,'Deploy to the
left! keep out of that ambuscade!  Now go, my braves!
Double quick! Strike for the flag!  On, on!' he shouted,
tossing up both his arms;'you'll win the day.'  As we
looked on the beautiful face and manly form, thus wrestling with the strong enemy, and thought of the mother and
sister in their distant home, surrounded by every luxury
wealth could purchase, worlds seemed too cheap to give to
have him with them. 
Having fought through three battles, he was not willing
to admit that he was sick till the vital currents ebbed out,
and he was actually dying.  To the last he talked of his
men; and now was no time to speak of the spirit-land.
When I whispered a verse of Scripture in his ear, he smiled
186 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
and thanked me, but could not appreciate the sacred words.
Hle was a graduate of Waterville College, and twenty of
his company were graduates of the same college. An only
son, his mother and sister doted on him; but the mandate
had gone forth, and there he lay, unconscious, in the grasp
of a monster that would never relax till he had done his
work."
Mrs. Harris was at Savage's Station and Seven Pines
while the fight was raging.  Here, in the primary hospitals,
and under the trees in the rear of the carnage, she took
part in scenes, and assumed duties, which not often fall to
her sex.  Now she was soothing patients under the hands
of the operator;  now preparing the minds of "great,
noble-looking men, officers and privates," to submit to the
amputation of an arm or a leg. Her womanl's heart was
much moved for a captain from Massachusetts, who pleaded
very hard for his leg. " 0, my wife And chlildren," he would
say (and he had seven), "it will kill them to see me so mutilated."  But it was of no avail.  The ball had shattered his
knlee-joiut, and amputation was unavoidable.  So the chloroform was pressed to his mouth, and he was taken insensible to the operating table.
Her opinion of some army chaplains, notwithstanding
her earnest piety, does not seem to have been very high.
It was the night after the battle of Seven Pineg; and she
had just seated herself, after a most exhausting day, to a
cup of tea, "when a great, healthy man, there to look after
the sick and wounded, and a chaplain, too, came to me,
saying,'They have just brought in a soldier, with a leg
blown off; he is in a horrible condition; can't you wash
187 
WOM0EN OF THE WAR.
him?' I was about to reply,'Can't you perform that
sacred office yourself?' when the thought the man that acts
so would not be tender, checked me, and soon the duty was
over; but I knew I'had done it for his burial.' So a grave
was dug, and we gave himn back to earth, but not till I had
cut away a lock of his hair for his Massachusetts mother."
During the first days of July these labors continued, and
grew more tragical, before it was known in how tolerable a
condition the army was brought to Harrison's Landing.
When she reached that place - carried from the Landing to
a wagon on a sailor's back, through mud knee-deep- the
welcome she received from the crowds of poor, war-worn
soldiers, who crowded the banks, was a reward for all her
hardships.
Amnong the sick and wounded at Harrison's Landing and
the hospitals along James River and at Fortress Monroe,
Mrs. HIarris labored through the omonths of July and
August, with the same earnest devotion, the same mixture
of Christiain zeal with practical and physical kindness, that
characterized her service elsewhere.
In Augtust, her attention was directed principally to
raising the spirits and health of the great number of
the partially sick, who needed only rest, cheerful words,
and palatable food.   Ovens were built, and bread for
whole regiments mixed and moulded, and baked by her
directions. Pickles and jellies were brought from Philadelphia in large quantities, and distributed with the daily
ration. Shirts, handkerchiefs, and socks were given out.
On the 20th August, she wrote from Fortress Monroe
that she had been busy as possible getting a new hospital
188 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
under way, had six hundred patients to begin with, and
nothing to feed them with but the stores of the Ladies'
Aid Society. In two days this number was swelled to
fourteen  hundred, mostly  convalescents.   Very  opportunely, as she observed, she received sixty packages from
New York and Massachusetts.
During the last two weeks of August, she distributed
one hundred baskets, seventy-two barrels, five bags, and
five boxes of onions; eight barrels of apples,  eight of
potatoes, three of beets, three of squashes; eighteen
bushels of tomatoes; five barrels of pickles, one of molasses; two kegs of butter, six of dried rusk and crackers;
eighty pounds of cheese, and large quantities of clothing,
towels, farina, wine, milk, and cocoa.
Early in September these sanitary labors were again, for
nearly two months, suspended, and her time was almost
wholly occupied in the care of the dying and wounded, in
the swiftly-following and bloody engagements that commenced with Jackson's advance up the Shenandoah Valley,
and ended with Lee's defeat at Antietam.
The following extract, from a letter written just after
Antietam, is a picture of her labors, and the sights and
sufferings through which she moved during that battle
autumn:   Night was closing in upon us -the rain fatling fast;
the sharpshooters were threatening all who ventured near
our wounded and dying on the battle-ground;  a line of
battle in view, artillery in motion, litters and ambulances
going in all directions; wounded picking their way, now
lying down to rest, some before they were out of the range
189 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
of the enemy's guns, not a few of whom received their
severest wounds in these places of imagined safety; add to
this, marching and countermarching of troops; bearers of
dispatches hurrying to and fro; eager, anxious inquirers
after the killed and wounded; and the groans of the poor
sufferers under the surgeons' hands, - and you may form
some faint idea of our position on that eventful evening.
Reaching a hospital but a few removes from the cornfield in
which the deadliest of the strife was waged, I found the
ground literally covered with the dead and woundedbarns, hayricks, outhouses of every description, all full.
Here and there a knot of men, with a dim light near, told
of amputations;  whilst the shrieks and groans  of the
poor fellows, lying all around, made our hearts almost to
stand still.  The rain fell upon their upturned faces, but it
was not noticed; bodily pain and mental anguish-for
many were brought to meet the l4ing of terrors face to
face, and would have given worlds to evade his cold
touch- rendered them indifferent to their surroundings.
Most of the sufferers were from General Meagher's Irish
brigade, and were louder in their demonstrations of feeling
than are the Germans, or our own native born.  ~Ve could
do little that night but distribute wine and tea, and speak
comforting words. WVe were called to pray with a dying
Christian; and I feel the grasp of his hand yet, as we knelt
around in the rain, in the dark night, with only the glimmerimg lights around the operating tables, and looked up to the
Father of our Lord and Saviour for his mercy and grace to
fall upon the dying man, and all his comrades clustering
round us needing dying grace.  Then we sang,'There is rest
190 
CIRS. JOHN HARRIS.
for the weary,' Miss G.'s loud, clear voice leading. The
sound stopped the shrieks and groans of the brave men.
They listened.  They all seemed comforted.  It was then
midnight, or near it.  Before the next sun threw its rays in
upon these twelve hundred wounded soldiers, the darkness
of death had settled uponl eleven sons, husbands, and fathers,
whose hearts had throbbed healthfully with loving thotughts
of home and country but a few hours before.  We remained
at this hospital until the evening of the 19thl; we had slept a
few hours on the straw upon which our soldiers had lain,
and upon which their life-blood had been poured out.  We
prepared tea, bread and butter, milk punch, and cg,g-log;
furnished rags, lint, and banldages, as needed, and then
came on to French's Division I-Iospital, where were one
thousand of our wounded, and a number of Confederates.
The first night we slept in our ambulance; no room in the
small house, the only dwelling near, coulld be procured.
The next day was the Sabbath. The sun shone brightly;
the bees and the birds were joyous and busy; a beautiful
landscape spread out before us, and we knew the Lord of
the Sabbath looked down upon us.  But, with all these
above and around us, we could see only our suffering, uncomplaining soldiers, mutilated, bleedilng, dying.  Almost
every hour I witnessed the going out of some yoiung life.
No words can describe the wonderfill endurancee  not a
murmur, not a word of complaint or regret. Many such
expressions as the following have been heard:'Yes, I have
struck my last blow for my country; whether I have servedl
my country well others may judge. I know I love her
more than life.' The lip quivered with emotion, and the
191
0 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
face was full of meaningi, as he added,'I am done with all
this, and must meet eternity. I have thought too little of
the future. I had a praying mother. O that I might meet
her!'  Another, a mere youth, with full, round face and
mild blue eyes, said,'Hold my hand till I die.  I am
trying to think of my Saviour; but think of my mother and
father; their hearts will break.'  Another, in reply to the
remark,'Well, my brother, you have fought a good fight;
we thank you for what you have done and suffered for us;
and now we want to talk to you about One who suffered
and died for you and for us, eighteen hundred and sixtytwo years ago, and now lives to intercede for us.  I-Ie is
near us now, and knows all your wants.  Shall we ask him
to abide with you, for the day is closing?'  Putting his
hand (he had but one) to his eyes-' It is growing dark;
can it be death?' For a time emotion was too big, for utterance; but, recovering himnself, h9 said,'I came into the
army to die if nced be, but did not think it would come so
soon - my first battle. 0, my wife and children! O
God, have mercy upon them!'  As we left him, his earnest
'Mother, come soon again,' fell upon my heart.  When
next seen, I turned from him with sorrow inexpressible.
The straightened, defined form, covered over with a
blanket, told of three orphaned children and a stricken
widow.  The love of home, and thoughtful care of mothers,
sisters, and fathers, are manifested most touchingly, especially by our New England soldiers: perhaps this maybe true
of all from rural districts, in the several states. The loss
of a strong arm  or leg is a mother's loss.    Who  will
support her if I am disabled?  Who will cut her wood and
192 
MRS.  JOHNI IHARRIS.
fetch her water?' I just recall an instance of filial devotion on the part of a young boy, who sickened and died on
his way to Poolesville the last month.  He was extremely
delicate, almost childish in appearance and expression.
WVhen told that he must be very quiet, that his physician
thought he should have rested at Washington, and not come
on with his regiment, he replied,'Yes, I thought I ought to
stay there; I felt awful bad and weak like; but it seemed so
much like giving up.' Then he burst into tears, and his
delicate frame quivered with emotion, as he added,'My
mother is weakly, and is trying to educate my little brother
and sister, and I helped her; and now that I must die,
what will she do?'  After a time he grew calm, and said,
'I will try and leave her where she said she left me all the
time - in the arms of our heavenly Father. If I die, he can
and will take care of her and her children.' All this was
said with many interruptions, for he Was very weak. He
languished a few days, and slept in Jesus. This is not an
uncommon experience.
Passing over the battle-ground of the 9th, such sights as
might cause the general pulse of life to stand still met our
eves.
"Stretched out in every direction, as far as the eye could
reach, were the dead and dying. Much the larger proportion must have died instantly  their positions, some with
ramrod in hand to load, others with gun in hand as if about
to aim, others still having just discharged their murderous
load. Some were struck in the act of eating. One poor
fellow still held a potato in his grasp. Another clutched
a piece of tobacco; others held their canteens as if to
13
193 
WO3IEN OF THE WAR.
drink; one grasped a letter.  Two were  strangely poised
upon a fence, having been killed in the act of leaping it.
Htow my heart sickens at the recollection of the appearance
of these men, who had left their homes in all the pride of
manly beauty.
"'""hen they kissed their loved ones, and bade farewell,
a gush of pride, mixed with the sadness of the parting,
may have swelled the hearts of mothers, wives, and sisters,
as they gazed upon the manly forms, in their bright, new
uniforms, and for a time the perils of the soldier may have
been forgotten. Now, how changed!  Begrimed with
dust, heads and bodies bloated and blackened, a spectacle
of sickening horror, objects of loathing, the worm already
preying upon them!"
Other letters, written in October, give full accounts of
the deaths of various soldiers, whose devotion and excellence of character had interested' Mrs. Harris, whose
sufferings were soothed by her gentle and Christian consolations, and who finally died in full faith, glad to have
suffered so much for their country, and hlopefil when the
summons of rel3-so reached them.
These letters of Mrs. Harris from the Peninsula and the
Potomac, in 1862, were published and extensively read in
the loyal communities of the North, and had a great effect
in increasing her usefulness, and that of the society of
which she was secretary. She displayed remarkable fitness for hospital and sanitary labors.  Her usefulness in
the trying duties she fulfilled was abundantly evinced by
the testimony of surgeons, officers, and soldiers, in the field
and in the hospitals; and now very large supplies were sent
194
f 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
directly to'Irs. Harris,  at the front, without  passing
through the rooms of the Ladies' Aid Society of Philadelphia.
During the period from October, 1862, to May, 1863,
although but one great battle took place in Virfginia, Mrs.
Harris continued her hospital labors with unabated zeal and
devotion.  At no time in the long struggle was sanitary
service more needed; for the winter of 1862-3 was in this
war what that of 1777-8 was to the Continental army
under Washington.  The troops had been worn down by
the unexampled fatigues of the fall campaign, and when
the cold weather set in, sickness multiplied at a rate so
alarming, as to threaten, at one time, the very organization
of the armny.
Between thirty and forty thousand men were in the sick
and convalescent camps, that extended from the Rappahannock to the Potomac.  Thirty thousand more lay in the
military hospitals in and around Washington.  Mrs. Harris
was laboring, during the month of November, to direct the
attention of government to the destitution and suffering in
these convalescent camps; and finally Congress was aroused
to action, and some slow and inadequate remedies were
applied. Writing on the subject, in December, she says,
"I am at present exercised in mind and body to a fearful
degree.  Think of the cold weather of the past week, and
of hundreds of our boys, many of whom we had nursed at
Bolivar and Smoketown, who came here to join their regimenlts, being thrown into this camp to suffer and die.  So
it has been. Fifteen of those in whom I was interested have
died - shall I write it? - of starvation and exposure, within
three weeks, and that under the shadow of our Capitol."
195 
WOMEN OF T'iE WAR.
Early in January the command of the army passed into
the hands of General Hooker, and by degrees a better
spirit was infused into the whole Union force. But there
was much suffering during the winter from cold and sickness. Picket duty was very heavy, and the sick at all times
abundant.  Mrs. Harris was for many weeks established
at the Lacey House, where her self-imposed duties were
onerous and varied.
She liocured a stove, some corn-meal and ground ginger, and with wine and crackers p.epared, every day, and
often twice in a day, a large supply of hot ginger panlada
for the pickets as they came inl from the line of the RPappahannock.  The boys were extremely fond of this preparation, and were drawn up in line in front of her headquarters, each receiving in his tin cup, from her own
hands often, the wholesome and stimulating preparation.
It will never be known how many h poor fellow, coming
in from his post, where he had stood for the weary hours of
an inclement night in the mud and sleet of a Virg,inia winter, was saved from pneumonia by this simple expedient.
The following picture of Sabbath morning life at the
Lacey House will illustrate the manner in which her time
was spent during that winter and spring:
Could you have looked in upon us at breakfast time
this day of sacred rest, your eye would have' fallen on
scenes and groupings all out of harmony with its holy uses.
One cookingl-stove pushed to its utmost capacity, groaning
beneath the weight of gruel, coffee, and tea, around it clustered soldiers, shivering, drenched to the skin, here and
there a poor fellow coiled upon the floor, too full of pain and
196 
MRS. JOHIN HARRIS.
weariness to bear his own weight.  Seated along, the table,
as closely as possible, were others, whose expressions of
thanks told how grateful the simple repast was- bread,
stewed fruit, and coffee. All alike were wet and cold,
having been exposed throughout the night to the driving
snlow and rain, the most uncomfortable one of the season.
Two poor boys groan under the pressure of pain; they are
carried to the chamber, their wet stockings removed, feet
bathed with camphor, spice tea given them, and an ambulance
sent for.  Now we return to our room of all-work.  The
vapor from the clothing of the soldiers, mingled with the
steam from the coffee and gruel, condenses on my glasses;
the eye waters, too, and the lungs are oppressed with the
heavy atmosphere, and for a moment I am ready to give
up; but only for a moment.  Suddenly the word  halt' is
heard, and an instant after such a chorus of coughs smites
upon our ears, and each one seems to say,'What thy hand
findeth to do, do it with all thy might.'  Seventy-two of
our defenders stood there in the raw  March  wind, in
need of something to keep the powers of life in action.
Thoroughly wet, icicles on their blankets after a sleepless
night, a march of from three to five miles before them.
sinking every step over shoe-top in mud and slush,- could
you have seen the eager pressing forward, tin cup in hand,
to secure the coveted portion, simple as it was, you would
feel that God's own day was honored."
These labors were continued till late in April, when
the advance across the river commenced. Sometimes Mrs.
Harris acted as apothecary, sometimes as physician, conPtantly as nurse and Christian firiend.
.e
197 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
The preparation of the ginger panada, or "bully soup,"
as the soldiers called it, was kept up as long as the north
bank of the river was picketed.   She continued to visit
those who were very sick, and especially all she heard of
who could not recover, and labored, in her simple and
direct way, to fit them, if possible, for the great change.
Letters, full and graphic, descriptive of all these scenes
and labors, were constantly forwarded to the Ladies' Aid
Society, and, when published and extensively circulated,
aroused a wide-spread sympathy for thie heroic sufferers,
and admiration for the no less heroic laborers in the army
hospitals and at the front.
Early in May came the battle of Chancellorsville, and
for a few weeks the letters of Mrs. Harris were less frequent, so completely was her time absorbed by the constant
and painful demands upon her to act as nurse and Christian
comforter to the ten thousand wounded in that fearful
series of engagemluents.
The extent and degree of that suffering is best understood from an extract from a letter of May 18.
"After  seeing  Mrs.  B.  and  Mrs.  L.  off,  we  filled
two ambulances with bread and butter, prepared stewed
fruit, eg-glog,  lemons, oranges, cheese, shirts, drawers,
stockings, and handkerchiefs, and went out to meet a train
of ambulances bearing the wounded from United States
Ford. Reaching Stonleman's Station, where we expected
to meet the train, we learned we were a half hour too late,
but could overtake them; so we pressed forward, and found
ourselves in the rear of a long procession of one hundred
and two ambulances. The road being narrow, steep, and
1,98 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
most difficult, we could not pass, and so were obliged to
follow, feeling every jolt and jar for our poor suffering
ones, whose wounds had just reached that point when the
slightest motion is agony.
"When this sad procession halted near the hospital of the
Sixth army corps, we prepared to minister to the sufferers.
Some gentlemen of the Christian Commission were there to
assist us.  No pen can describe the scene.  Mlost of these
sufferers had been wounded on the 3d instant.
Amputations and dressings had been hurriedly gone
over, and then much neglected, necessarily so, for the rebel
surgeons had more than enough to occupy them in the care
of their own wounded.  You know we left most of our
wounded on the right in their hands.
By day and by night I see their poor mutilated limbs,
red with inflammation, bones protrudilng, worms rioting as
they were held over the sides of the amnbulance to catch the
cooling breeze! Those anguished faces -what untold suffering they bespoke!  Many a lip quivered, and eye filled
with tears, when approached with words of sympathy; and
not a few told how they had prayed for death to end their
sufferings, as they were dashed from side to side, often
rolling, in their helplessness, over each other, as they were
driven those twenty weary miles. We came to one poor
fellow with a ball in his breast. His companion,- who was
utterly helpless, having, been wounded in both arms, had
rolled on him, and was thrown off only by a lurch of the
ambulance.   When  we  carried him  some  egg-nog, he
drank it eagerly, and asked to be raised up, stopping at
intervals to recover breath; but before his turni came to
i99 
WOMEN OF THIE VAR.
be lifted from the ambulance, the mortal had put on immortality, and his wife and five children left to plead with
God the promises made to the fatherless and widow.
"We have sent large amounts of hospital supplies to
Mrs. Husband and Mrs. McKay, in the Third corps.  Miss
Dix asked me to attend to the distribution of a half barrel
of eggs and some oranges, and they were divided between
these ladies, who are both admirable women.
'For six mornings we have prepared five gallons of
custard, using six dozen eggs, and about eight gallons of
pudding.  The surgeons tell us to give as much  wholesome, nutritious food to the wounded as they will eat.
You may judge how completely our time is filled up. Our
evening meetings are now so largely attended that we have
been obliged to resort to the main building.  They are
temporarily disturbed, at nine o'clock, by the cry,'Fall in,
third relief,' when the heavy tread of men, the clatter of
swords, and the rustle of the old relief taking their places
are heard. WVe find it difficult to close these services, so
full of enjoyment are they to the soldiers."
These religious meetings were continued for three
months, and were very numerously attended.  IMrs. Harris
assumed the whole responsibility, occasionally calling upon
clergymen and others, whom she knew, to lead the devotions of the audience. Her hospital labors coentbued, as
described above, after the battles of the Peninsula and
Antietam, with occasional flying trips to Washington and
other points in the vicinity, to look up and forward the
boxes of the Ladies' Aid Society. Late in June and on
the first days of July, we find her, now in Harrisburg and
200
0 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
soon after in Washington, sharing the general uncertainty
as to where the struggle, that all knew to be iml)pending,
must take place, yet ready, with her sanitary stores, to
commence labors at once.
On the 3d of July she was in Washington, and besought
of the government, with tears, permission to carry forward
to Gettysburg a car-load of supplies, but was advised that
it was unsafe to go to the front. Taking some chloroform
and stimulants, she left Baltimore on the 4th, and penetrated as near as possible to the scene of the conflict,
ministering as much as in her power to the stream of
wounded that filled the cars, and was now rapidly swelling
with each arrival from Gettysburg.  Hundreds of the soldiers greeted her, she says, with the kindest expressions.
On the 9th she writes from Gettysburg these few hurried
words:  "Am  full of work  and sorrow.   The appearance of
things here beggars all description. Our dead lie unburied, and our wounded neglected. Numbers have been
drowned by the sudden rising of the waters in thle creek
bottoms, and thousands of them are still naked and starving.  God pity us!-pity us!
On the day following she gives a fuller account, saying
she has been on the field of blood since the 4th, and has
seen suffering of the most fearful character.
On the 12th Mrs. Harris and another lady, finding supplies in great abundance at Gettysburg, and a large number
of assistants arriving daily, concluded that they could do
more good by following the advance of General Meade,
and attending to the fresh cases of the wounded and sick.
201
i 
WOMEN OF TIIE WAR.
With two ambulances, one loaded with medical stores and
the other with food and clothing, they followed the army in
its rapid marches for nearly a month.  Severe skirmishing
was in progress much of the time, and great numbers were
taken sick.  At Warrenton the inhabitants refused them
their kitchens, and they prepared food for the sick soldiers
in the street, feeding the hungry and clothing the naked in
l)arns, by the wayside, in churches, in cars, wherever they
could find the suffering soldiers.
Her letters, during this month of labor, were neither long
nor frequent. Yet she says it was a real trial to her to be so
summary when so many moving incidents pressed upon her
mind, and tingled at the tips of her fingers.
Iln August we find her again at Warrenton, giving out
supplies for four hospitals recently opened there, and instructing the doctors and surgeons in the homely science of
preparing farina, corn starch, and pa~ada for the sick.
She says there was hardly a family at Warrenton but
moLurned one dead at Gettysburg.  The extreme heat, and
long-protracted and heavy service, had produced great
prostration in many who were not suffering firom acute
disease.  The water, too, was in some places very impure.
She sent to Philadelphia for at large number of empty
phials, and filling these with such stimulants as the doctors
advised, left them at the head of each of the suffering soldiers, thus saving many lives, and alleviating much misery.
Early in September she found herself one evening so
exhausted by labor, travel, discomfort, and the extreme
heat, that she was for a little time fixed in the determiniation to seek health and repose among the mountain breezes
202 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
and cool streams of the Alleghanies.  But the next morning being somewhat restored by sleep, she was actively
forming plans for further labors of relief and comfort for
"the brave boys."  After breakfasting on a piece of army
bread, and some jelly, eaten with a rusty knife and an old
tin tea-spoon, she heard that some cavalrymen, the Sixth
Michiganl, were not far distant, and greatly in need of aid.
After much difficulty and delay in crossing a swollen creek,
she was hailed with joy by all who knew the humane nature
of her errand.  She found sixty sick men, wholly without
attendance or food.  The surgeon in charge had been prostrated with camp fever- the hospital steward and the cook
were both sick. They had camped in a low, marshy i)lace;
and, as the men were exhausted by long marches, irregular
meals, and sleepless nights, they yielded ill great numbers
to the miasm of the swamp, and the glare of the sun, unbroken by any friendly shade.  They hud eaten nothing for
several days but a few mouldy pieces of hard-tack, and
ctank black coffee, boiled in their tin cups.
MIrs. Harris drives up to where a little camp kettle is
hanging over a low fire, and finds the whole cooking equipment of these sixty or seventy sick men consists of a small
sheet-iron stove, a small tea-kettle, two tin pans holding a
gallon each, one small water-bucket, a few spoons, and a
broken earthen dish.
She collects all the canteens b)elonging to the men, and
sends them with the bucket to the spring, replenishes the
fire, gets the bag of farina from the ambulance, as also the
sugar, dried rusk, nutmegs, brandy, butter, milk, and
flavoring extracts.  When the water was broug,ht she filled
up the vessels and sent them for more.
203 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Then the horse-bucket, from the ambulance, was cleaned,
and partly filled with dried rusk, a few spoonfuls of butter,
a half bottle of brandy, four nutmegs, and boiling water
poured over the whole, and the panada was made.
While this was being distributed, and, as there were but a
few tin cups, but few could be supplied at a time, the
largest kettleful of farina was boiling.
Then she adds, "If you could have seen the tears and
heard the thanks of these sick braves, you would not
wonder that I remain here day after day."
Soon after this, Mrs. Harris returned home for a few days
of rest; but on the 24th September we find her at Culpepper, spending her days in preparing food for the sick,
of which she says there were not less than four hundred in
the four hospitals. Remaining a few days at this post of
duty, she returned to Philadelphia early in October; and,
after advising with the officers of the society; it is decided
that she is to go west of the mountains, and labor for the
lives and comfort of the thousands and tens of thousands
whose hopes, health, and happiness had been crushed under
the iron wheel of war.
Two great armies had marched and countermarched, for
nearly a year, through the counties of Tennessee that are
adjacent to the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad. Rosecrans, after his great battle of Stone River, had pressed
upon his antagonist, and partly by force, but mainly by
stratagem, had driven him out of Middle Tennessee, and
thrown him across the river of that name, into Northern
Georg,ia.
There, on the 19th and 20th of September, a long and
204 
MIuS. JOlN HfARRIS. 
bloody contest had taken place on the slopes of Lookout
3-iountain, and in the valley of the Chickamauga below, for
possession of the roads leading to Chattanooga. The Union
force was overpowered, and driven back to Chattanooga,
taking, a considerable part of their wounded with them,
but leaving many in the enemy's hands.
Communication with the rear was greatly interrupted.
Supplies could not be forwarded, and horses and mules
were dying by the hundred every day in the mountain
passes, all the way from Tullahoma to Chattanooga.
Refugees, of all ages and both sexes, and every shade of
color and degree of intelligence, were crowded into Nashville, and the various towns along the road to Chattanooga.
MNost of these wretched people were poor andcl destitute to
the last degree.
The Ladies' Aid Society, of which Mrs. Harris was secretary, was not confined in its operations to one army, or
one class of sufferers. A noiseless channel for the distribution of genuine charities, its principle of action from
the time it was organized, in April, 1861, till the Proclamation of Peace, was to relieve any suffering, in any part
of the land, that arose out of the state of war, and in this
noble mission to "sow beside all waters."  A signal of distress in any quarter, whether from a provost guard at a
fort, the captive in his prison, the soldier on the ield, the
mutilated but patient hero in the hospital, the refugee
firom starvation  and death, the Cherokee  in his devastated fields, the freedmani in his destitution, even the bleeding rebel solder, alike called forth the sympathies and
shared the bounties of this association.
205 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
As transportation was slow and difficult, the Ladies' Aid
Society could not forward to the sufferers in Tennessee those
supplies which they had so freely sent to the Potomac army;
and when Mrs. Harris left for Nashville, in the middle of
October, she was supplied with money from the treasury
of the society, and a few boxes of the most portable sanitary articles, to be used according to her discretion. In two
days after her arrival she commenced her labors of love
among the Union refugees- that large class of the miserably poor who had migrated from the pine barrens of North
Carolina,          and settled on the mountain sides and in the
obscure c aves of the Alleghany and Cumberland rangies.
In the days of peace and comparative plenty, these people
were       poor. But when the whirlwind of war swept through
their secluded valleys; when the once united and harmonious communities were divided into bitter factions; -
" When the clarion's music thrills
To the heart of the lone hills;
WVhen the spear in conflict shakes,
And the strong lance, shivering, breaks;"
then want and famine overtook these people as an armed
man, and their condition became truly pitiable.
" It is a very dark picture," writes Mrs. Harris, " made up
of miserable looking women and old men,. with naked children of all ages.  Many come here to die, no provision
being made  for them other than the food and shelter
afforded by government.  After herding together  indiscriminately in some dirty walreroom, or unfinished, unfuirnished tenement, in ill-venltilated apartments, they become
206 
MRS. JOHN HARRIS.
an easy prey to that foe of all the ill-clad and ill-fedtyphus fever. It comes in the form of a chill, followed by
fever; and this is followed by jabbering idiocy, with no
great suffering, except to sympathizers. The mind of the
sick one is filled with old home scenes; ghastly smiles,
more saddening by far than tears, play over wan and haggard faces; the patient sinks, in a few days fills a government coffin, and is carried to a nameless grave.  Going
into a long, dark room, on the ground floor, in an unfinished mammoth hotel, now used as barracks, we found in
the foreground some half dozen women with a crowd of
children, crouching around a smoking stove; the women in
tattered, dirty garments, their vacant, listless expression
seeming to say,'We are only poor white trash.' The
children, dressed in hospital shirts, - no other garments,
would have looked comical had their poor little faces been
hid; these were so unlike careless childhood that we could
only look and wonder if any that surrounded our Saviour
when he took them in his arms and blessed them were like
these. In the background were beds, so close as scarcely
to admit a passage between them. On one of the beds lay
a sick old man, moaning; still farther on, a young woman
in the last stage of rapid consumption.  Two of these
homeless sick had that morning found homes from which
they will never be driven. The wretched inmates told us
they were'right smart better off then than they had
been.'  They made no complaints."
Among these unhappy people Mrs. Harris labored for
more than a month.  She watched with the sick, and
prayed with those about to die. She assembled them in
207 
8WOMEN OF THE WAP,.
some large room, or, when the weather would admit, in
the open air, and engaged some Christian speaker to hold
before them the model of Him who knows our sorrows, and
is acquainted with all human griefs; who was himself homeless, and had not where to lay his head.  Not confining
her labors to the refugees, Mrs. Harris visited various
hospitals in Nashville, and was able to do a great deal for
the comfort of those who were about to be sent forward to
Louisville, on their way homeward.
In November we find her in Louisville, communicating
with the towns in the North-Western States, and collecting
the materials for a general thanksgiving, dinner in Nashville.  Having obtained large supplies for this purpose, she
did not stay to see the soldiers enjoy their luxuries, but
pressed forward with relief to the suffering and starving
in Bridgeport and Chattanooga.   Two  weeks later she
wrote from Chattanooga, where her labors for the wounded
were similar to those for the Potomac army, of which a full
recital has been given; but she saw more horror, and agony,
and death, duriong her three months here, than she had ever
seen in her whole experience in the East.
As I write, an ambulance passes, bearing the remains
of four heroes of the late battles; all of them full of hope
when I came here, and, though wounded, talking only of
victory; one telling how vexed he felt when the bullet
struck him, half way up the hill; another rejoicing that
he got to the top; another, that he grasped the flag, and
held it aloft nearly at the top-is sure the old'Stars and
Stripes' saw the top, if he didn't. And so they talked, for
days, only of their country's triumph; but a change passed
208 
MRS. JOHN HIARRIS.
over them.  Gangrene was commencing its ravages, and
they were carried from their comrades, and put in tents,
lest the poison mi,ght be communicated to their wounded
fellow-sufferers. There, in the'gangrene ward,' the glory
of battle and victory faded away, as the fatal disease bore
them nearer and nearer to the great eternity that shuts
out all sounds of war.
Then the fearful misgivilngs that took the place of the
hopes of earthly glory were deeply engraven on their poor,
wan faces, and began to be whispered in the ears of Christian sympathy.  No words can describe the condition of
our hospitals here, and of the whole country.  Think of
Golg,otha, the Valley of Hiinnom, and all the dark places
of the earth, and you may arrive at some conception of it."
Just as MIrs. Harris was entering systematically into
measures of sanitary relief similar to those she had so
admirably conducted on the battle-fields of Virginia, the
long series of labors, exposures, and anxieties worked their
natural effect upon her constitution, and for two weeks she
was very sick. For a time, even, her life was despaired
of; but while so much was to be done for those crowded
hospitals, she could not give up her hold on life, and God,
in his mercy, restored her to health, and gave her back, to
be an unspeakable blessing and comfort to those who suffered in hope, and to those who languished without hope.
Early in January she resumed her labors and her correspondence with the society, saying, in reference to her
sickness, only these words: "I feel almost ashamed to
consume your time with any account of it, the suffering all
around me is of such an intense character."
14
209 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
During the months of January and February, 1864, she
labored incessantly in the great hospitals of Chattanooga,
still crowded with the wounded of two terrific battles. Inl
January she was rejoiced when the transportation wv.as such
as to allow all the well men to be comfortably clothed and
fed. The railroad was not opened till the middle of the
month.  The battle of Chickamauga  had  been  fought
four montlis before.  In recapitulating the events of that
time, she writes, "My experiences, since I reached Chattanooga, have been among the most painful of the three
past eventful years.  In looking back, amazement seizes
me, and the attempt to rehearse them seems futile.  War,
famine, and pestilence have made up the warp and woof of
our soldier life. As I entered one of the hospitals, early in
December, and asked,'Well, friendcls, how are you getting
along?' the response came from many a cot,'We are starving.'  A  surgeon remarked to  me, in a careless tone,'A
great many of our men have starved to death, but they did
not know it.'  He was mistaken."
As spring opened, active operations were about to be
resumed at Chattanooga. It was the commencement of
Sherman's last magnificent campaign.  Mrs. Harris accordingly returned to Nashville in March, and for two months
continued her labors among the unhappy class for whom
she had done so much in the fall.
As the Union arms became victorious in Northern Georgia, a great number of refugees from these counties came
pouring northward, and stopped at Nashville.
The following picture of sights and groups, among which
Mrs. Hlarris's daily life at Nashville was  passed, illustrates
210 
MRS. JOHN IHARRIS. 
at once the misery of these refugees, and the Christian
kindliness of her ministration:  "As I entered a house on the MIurfreesboro' Pike, a few
miles out of Nashville, which showed signs of former elegance, but was now occupied by twelve refugee families, I
was met by a ragged little child, who said,'That's our
room; my aunt is there.   I reckon she's dying.'  Upon
a bed lay a woman whose breathing told of the deathstruggle.   Stooping over the fire were the mother and
sisters, in silent grief.  They had been driven from comfortable homes in Dade County, Georgia, because their
husbands were loyal, and had months before entered the
Union army.  After untold sufferings, they found themselves among strangers, miserably lodged, and worse fed.
All of them had been sick. Two children had died; and
now the daughter, a mother, too, was dying. None of
them could read.  I stooped over the dying woman, and
repeated a part of the fourteenth chapter of John. She
turned her dying eyes on me, and with a look of glad
surprise, exclaimed,'That's my home; Jesus is there, and
he is here.  I have had a power of trouble, and been
pestered mightily; but it was worth it all to feel how
good Jesus is."'
After her return from these protracted and depressing
labors in the WVest, the health of Mrs. Harris was sQ utterly
wasted, that not even the inspiration of an heroic purpose
or the promptiings of holy zeal could sustain her in labors
equal to those she had undergone. But when the life-blood
of the army of the Potomac was poured out at so fearful a
rate in the great campaign of 1864, she went downl to Fred
211 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
ericksburg, and soon after to White Iiouse and City Point,
and labored with her customary earnestness and efficiency.
Early in the spring of 1865 she went into the department
of Virginia and North Carolina, and was in the latter state
when Sherman brought his veteran army around in that
gigantic curve to the rear of the rebel stronghold, and the
closing scenes of the lolng tragedy were rapidly hurried
across the arena. Almost her last acts of kindness to soldiers were bestowed upon the wretched victims of malignity
that had staggered alive out of the infamous prison pens at
Andclersonville and Salisbury.
It was not until the army corps were disbanded and
the primary hospitals broken up, not until the bloody
stretchers were rolled up and stowed away with the bandages and lint, to gather dust ill dim corners of government
storehouses, that MIrs. Harris could regardcl her mission
ended and  her occupation gone.  With returning and
established peace she has glided back to the life of quiet
duty and patient endurance, from which, four years before,
she had emerged, her health feebler than before, suffering
constantly from the effects of a sunstroke, received while
laboring, on the field at Savage's Station.   But if the
approving testimony of conscience is any reward; if ever
mercy is twice blessed, enriching the receiver and the giver
alike; if the affectionate admiration of the thousands who
saw her labors, and were benefited by them, is precious,
- this admiration, this blessing, this reward, she has, to
alleviate the weariness of her sick chamber, and to brighten
the pathway along which she moves to the heavenly
approval.
212 
]IISS M3ARY E. SHELTON.
HE  various scenes, movements, and charities of our
great civil struggle can be divided into two grand
enterprises, each having a widely separated, yet equally
important object. The moral objective of the war was the
capture of Richmond; the physical objective was to obtain
and secure possession of the magnificent valley and river
that occupy the centre of the revolted region.
Of course a result so important as either was not to be
accomplished without labors, and bloodshed, and sufferings,
whose sum no human method can ever express.
Though Vicksburg and the towns on the Lower Mississippi were more remote from the centres of supply than the
Virginia towns, yet the directness of water communication
nearly compensated for the difference in miles;  and the
western armies, led by Grant and Sherman, were represenilted at home by a population as warm in its loyalty, and
as generous in the spirit of sacrifice, as those who stood
behind the forces of McClellan, and Hooker, and Meade.
In the summer of 18G3 the labors of Mrs. Anne Wittenmeyer had become so extensive, the field of her operations
so wide, and her letters so numerous, that she needed a
secretary to relieve her, in a portion at least, of her selfimposed duties.
(213) 
WO14OMEN OF THE WAR.'
It was in this capacity of secretary to Mrs. Wittenmeyer,
in the fall of 1863, soon after the surrender of Vicksburg, that Miss Mary E. Shelton commenced her hospital
experience.
On the 10th of August she left Keokuk, and on the
way to St. Louis her time was fully occupied in answering
a large number of letters, which Mrs. Wittenmeyer, as
president of the Ladies' Aid Society of Iowa, had received
from various parts of that and the adjacent states. From
the number and tenor of these letters Miss Shelton was
made more fully alive to the extent and the bitter results
of the great war then at its height.  Here was one from a
heart-broken father, saying, "one of his sons had recently
died in a southern hospital, and the only one remaining was
very low with fever; would Mrs. Wittenmeyer see him,
and ascertain his wants, and let them know?" A wife, with
a family of little ones, almost destitute, wrote that her husband had consumption, and begged that he might spend his
last days at home.  A widowed mother had not heard from
her sick son for many weeks; "would Mrs. Wittenmeyer
inquire about him, and relieve the terrible suspense that
was wearing her life away?"  No other employment could
have given her so wide an acquaintance with the sorrows
by which the land was burdened.
At St. Louis they stopped a day or twQ, and visited the
rooms of the Western Sanitary Commission, where they
were cordially received, and made ample arrangements with
the president, Mr. Yeatman, for receiving future supplies
for their mission to the suffering soldiers down the river.
On the 16th of August, just at sunset, they reached Helena,
214 
MISS MARY E. SHELTON.
Arkansas, and reported immediately to the office of the
medical director, whom they found in great perplexity on
account of the lack of nurses and supplies for the sick and
wounded. He greeted them with the utmost cordiality,
telling Mrs. Wittenmeyer that he had not welcomed any
one half so gladly since the war commenced as he did her,
as he had never before been so sorely in need of help and
supplies.  A large number of regiments had been brought
up from Vicksburg and the Yazoo River,  and General
Steele's division had moved on to Little Rock, leaving their
sick men behind. So rapid had been the movement that
the sick were left in the streets, with scarcely enough convalescents to erect tents to protect them from the heat of
the day, or the damp, malarious air of the night. Thirteen
had died the first night they were there, and unless something, was done immediately the mortality would be very
great. More than two thousand were destitute of both
medical and sanitary supplies.
Mrs. NVittenmeyer immediately sent to St. Louis for the
necessary supplies; and, early on Monday mnorningi, she
and Miss Shelton began their labors of love, visiting the
hospitals, and ministering all in their power to the sufferers
there. One poor soldier they found wasted almost to a
skeleton, and wearing the same suit of clothes he had
worn all through the siege of Vicksburg and the fever that
had prostrated him. He seemed past all feeling, and said
he was going to die with no one to care for or relieve him.
But an allusion to his mother called the tears in streams to
his eyes, and convulsed his whole frame with sobs. Before
they left, the hospital steward had promised to clean every
215 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
room, and held in his hand an order for every shirt and
pair of drawers in the sanitary rooms. In the afternoon
they visited the hospital tents, speaking words of sympathy
and kindness to the brave sufferers, and from twilight to
midnight they were both busy in writing letters to their
friends at home.
The next day matters were materially- improved.  The
rooms were thoroughly scrubbed, the men attired in new
and       fresh garments, and even the poor Vicksburg soldier, in
his clean shirt and new suit of clothes, talked hopefully of
health  and       home again.  After leaving some lemons, and
suc    h         other comforts as could be procured in Helena, they
started for the convalescent camp, about a mile from
Hlelena, the way thither leading directly across the battlefield where so many brave men sealed their devotion to the
Union with their blood. As they neared the first tent they
heard the soldiers within singing,-i-,
"So, let tle cannon boom as it will,
We will be gay and happy still."
Then followed something the import of which was that the
northern girls wouldn't marry Copperheads or cowards, but
would wait till the soldiers got home.  Thinking they were
doing very well, the two ladies passed on to another tent,
where were four sick men - three on the ground, one, the
sickest of the four, on a cot. There was a pan with ice
water in it by the cot, but no one to apply it to the sick
man's burning brow.  Mrs. Wittenmeyer dipped the towel
into the water, wrung it out, and placed it onl his head.
Slowly the tears rolled from the closed eyes, and in a feeble
216 
MISS MARY E. SHELTON.
voice, the sufferer said, " 0, how like my own mother it
seemed when you put the cold cloth on my aching head!"
That day they saw and talked with hundreds of men from
Iowa and other states, and were received by them as angiels
of mercy. One man staggered from his cot to where his
knapsack lay, to give them some peaches; another insisted
on their sharing with him some ginger beer; and, as they
left, they heard a soldier remark to his comrade, "It does
my heart good to see that kind of ladies come to camp;
they care something for the soldiers." In the evening they
visited a hospital in a brick church, where were eighty men,
most of them very sick, and not one bed in the building.
But they were very patient, and praised their steward in
the highest terms - a very humane and kind-hearted man,
who neither by day nor night would allow them to suffer for
the cooling drink, or such other attention as was in his
power to bestow. They talked of himn as they would of a
mother, and seemed glad to tell some one how kind he was.
Tenderly he went from one to another, ministering to their
wants; and when a soldier introduced to them "Liberty
Hix," the ladies recognized him as a genuine Samaritan, of
the New Testament type.  One of the soldiers called Miss
Shelton to him, and said, "I have something to tell you,
that I want you to repeat when you return to Iowa. You
may have heard of our sufferings at Milliken's Bend.  WVe
were in a hospital tent, and as no supplies could reach us,
we became more and more feeble. Men that might have
grown strong and well with proper nourishment, were daily
sinking into the grave, and in each one that was carried out
we read our fate. You can have little idea how a sick
217 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
man loathes the coarse army rations. The only thing we
could eat was bean soup; and this we had morning, noon,
and night, week in and week out.  I have seen men refuse
it, saying,'I will die before I will ever eat it again.' But
a day came when unusual depression reigned throughout the
hospital.  The nurse came through with the soup; but it
was steadily refused. When he came to me I covered my
head in the bedclothes and wept. I thought of my good
wife, with an abundance about her, and how gladly she
would share with me.  When I looked up, other men were
weeping too; and, though it may seem very foolish to you,
hung,er and sickness take all the fortitude out of a man.
In my distress I cried to God, and scarcely had the prayer
passed my lips, when our nurse entered, and taking his
stand near the centre of the hospital, where every man
could hear, called out,' Mrs. Wittenmeyer is coming with
two loads of sanitary goods!'  Just then we heard the
rattle of the wagons, and my heart gave such a bound of
joy as it never had done before. The men wept aloud for
joy.  An hour afterwards, amid laughter and tears, we
greeted Mrs. Wittenmeyer, bringing us chicken, fruit, and
other sanitary supplies, without which we should have died
in a few days."
The two days following were spent in the same way,
goillng, from hospital to hospital, ascertaining.what was
needed, and supplying it as far as possible.   But one
sad feature of their situation it was beyond the power
of the ladies  to  mitigate.   None  of  the  men hoped
for speedy recovery unless they could be moved from
Helena. The town is situated in what was once a cypress
218 
MISS MARY E. SHELTON.
swamp, and in low places the stumps of the trees were
still standing. Unless the sick could be inspired with
courage and hope, it was useless to anticipate recovery.
The commander of the post said he had no authority to
send them up the river, and the medical director could do
nothing without orders.  After thoroughly canvassing the
whole affair, Mrs. Wittenmeyer decided to go to Memphis,
see General Hurlbut, and have  arrangements made  to
make them, at least, more comfortable. On the morning
of the second day she returned, and as she passed from one
hospital to another, every man that was able raised himself
on his elbow, and watched her till she was out of sight.
Some wept, others laughed,- all were in great agitation,
for she had brought with her orders for the removal of
every mall to some northern hospital.  That day supplies
came from Memphis, which were distributed among the
men, and which, together with the Jlope of a speedy removal to a more salubrious air, diffused great cheerfulness
among them all.
Their labors at Helena thus pleasantly terminated, Miss
Shelton accompanied MIrs. WVittenmeyer to Vicksburg.
Leaving Helena on the mornling of August 23, the next
day, about noon, the bluffs of Vicksburg came in sight.
They found that the city presented a much less dilapidated
and more inviting appearance than they had anticipated
there, where for weeks "Death held his carnival." The first
hospital they visited was in the Prentiss mansion, a most
beautiful place.  Though the house was large, comparatively few of the patients could be accommodated in it,
but were in tents, on the surrounding terraces, in the
219 
WOMOEN OF TIIHE WAR.
shade of the magnolia and cypress trees, hedged about with
myrtle and beautiful flowers. The sick were all well cared
for, and were never without sanitary supplies. The City
Hospital they found in the best possible condition. Dr.
Powell, of Chicago, chief surgeon, received them cordially,
as messengers of mercy from the Sanitary Commission,
and expressed himself as having more faith in the efficacy
of nourishing food for the sick soldiers than in the most
skilful practice, or the most potent medicines.
One of the most interesting places they found in the city
was the Soldiers' Hiome- a fine three-story brick structure,
surrounded by cool verandas, on one of the pleasanltest
sites in the city, built by Senator Gwin for his town residence.  This situation was selected by Mrs. WVittenmeyer,
and there the tired soldier could find food and lodging, free
of expense, furnished by the Sanitary Commission.
A few days after their arrival at Vicksburg,, Mrs. Wittenmeyer and Miss Shelton went out to Big Black River, midway between Vicksburg and Jackson, visiting a number of
hospitals located there.
In the fall of the year, returning to Iowa with Mrs. Wittenmeyer, Miss Shelton labored, with her voice and pen, in vindicating the Sanitary Commission, and arousing the people
of Iowa to renewed activity, and more abundant liberality
towards the distant and often suffering soldier.  Dmringi the
year 1864, and all the early part of 1865, for some time
after the war ended, Miss Shelton was constantly in the
field, acting a portion of the time as secretary to Mrs. Wittenmeyer; at other times taking charge of special diet
kitchens in the different hospitals.
220 
MISS MARY E. SIHELTON.
The summer of 1864 was spent mostly in the Nashville
hospitals.  Afterwards she went to Wilmington, and remained for several months. Of fine sensibilities, and well
cultivated intellect, to see such varied suffering was to sympathize with it.  And she has not allowed these vivid and
often tragic scenes to pass from her memory, and perish
from the recollection of the world.
Many of the more touching incidents she has recorded in
a series of hospital sketches, whose interest and pathos have
not been surpassed by any of the journals of the numerous
hospital nurses and lady superintendents who have made so
noble a pag,e ill American history by their heroism and
self-sacrifice.  We quote from her journal some  of the
most interesting passages.
LITTLE WILLIE.
One sultry day in June, 1865, as I. was passing through
the wards of the Berry House Hospital, in Wilmington, my
attention was attracted by a pair of bright eyes, which followed me from cot to cot with a hungry eagerness. Supposing, it was the lemonade, which I was  distributing
according to the direction of the nurses, which attracted
him, I inquired of the man who had charge of him if he
could have some. He replied in the affirmative, and I
placed the glass to his burning lips.  He was a mere boy,
only fifteen. His dark eyes and curly brown hair contrasted
fearfully with his pale cheeks, while the thin white hand,
with which he clasped the glass, told sadly of wasting
disease.
I longed to speak words of cheer to the poor boy, but
221 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
could not stop then, as there were many feverish men
waiting for the icy draught I was carrying.  The eyes
haunted me; and, as I went from one to another, I could
not help glancing back at Willie's cot; and every time I
met the same enitreating look which first attracted my
attention.
MIy duties called me to another part of the hospital; and,
as I was passing him to go out, he called out, in a faint
voice, "Lady, dear lady, please give me a kiss -just one
kiss before you go.  My mother always kissed me."  I
kissed him, with tears in my eyes -for who could refuse
such a request from a dying child, far away from every
friend and relative.  He closed his eyes, murmuring, "You
are a good woman- thank you.  If you will sit down and
hold my hand I think I can sleep; I am so tired." The
nurses were very kind, and the surgeons remarkably so;
but disease had undermined the frail structure, and we
daily watched our Willie sinking to the grave.
One day I entered the ward, and found that the nurse
had placed a chair by his cot for me, as usual; but he was
sleeping, and I requested the nurse not to awaken him.
0, miss," said the man, "he cries and takes on so dreadfully when he wakes and finds that you have passed through,
that I have promised always to wake him." To do this was
no easy matter: the eyes opened slowly, and shut again.
I leaned down, and whispered, "Willie! Willie!"   Yes,
yes," he replied, "I was afraid they would not wake me,
and I should not see you." He then began to cry like a
grieved child, and begged me not to go North until he was
well enough to go with me.  " Promise," said the nurse,
222 
MISS MARY E. SHELTON.
"for he will not live many days more."  "No, WVillie, I
will not go until you are better," I said, and with the kiss
he never failed to ask for, left him.  The next morning the
doctor came to me and said, "Willie is gone."
The coffin was placed upon two chairs, in the dispensary,
and we stood and gazed long upon the marble face and
folded white hands -white as the Cape Jasmine blossoms
which they clasped.  Then I learned his history as he had
told it. A man of wealth had been drafted, and hadl bought
the boy as a substitute of a heartless step-father. He had
never carried a gun. Once from under his mother's watchful care, the overgrown boy had sunk beneath the hardships
of camp life, and the spirit, pure as when it first entered
the clay casket, returned to God who gave it. O Willie!
those were not tears to be despised which fell upon thy
coffin -soldiers' tears for a comrade lost.  And though
upon the well-contested field you never foulght in deadly
combat, the good fight of faith has been yours; and now,
while your example lives in our hearts below, you wear an
undying wreath of victory in our Father's kingdom.
Our work in this hospital was more satisfactory than in
any other with which I was connected. There were only
three wards, and we visited and talked with each patient
every afternoon. A surgeon or the ward-master xyenlt with
us to assist in giving out the lemonade which we always
took with us.  We also carried a portfolio, and took from
the men outlines of the letters they wished us to write.
Some of these were very original and amusing, and I regret
that I did not preserve them.
223 
WOMAEN OF THE WAR.
As we had no "diet lists," we took down on a slip of
paper every afternoon what articles of food each man
thought he could eat. There was very little grumbling,
and many thanks.  While at work, the convalescents would
gather in the corners of the kitchen and at the windows, and
relate amusing anecdotes of their journeyings and fights.
I regret to say that sham marriages of the soldiers with
pretty girls belonging to the "poor white trash" were not
uncommon.
Much has been said of the ignorance of these people; but
such miserable, vile, filthy, cringing wretches I never saw.
Half has not been told of them; and truly it would require
the pens of many ready-writers to do it.  The "swamp
fever," which carried off many of our soldiers, was even
more fatal among, them. While in Wilmington, the death
of Mrs. George, of Fort Wayne, Indiana, made us more
careful of our health.  The surgeon advised us to chalnge
every article of dress, and take a thorough7i bath, before
resting after our visits to the wards.  This we did; and
although we were exposed to small pox, and fevers of all
kinds, we returned to the North in as good health as when
we went South.
Wilmington life is with the memories of the past, as is
all our hospital work.  But though we "rest from our
labors," "our works do follow us" in occasional letters from
a thankful one, to whom we administered when we and they
were strangers in a strange land.
HOSPITAL NO. 1, NASHVILLE, JUZy 14, 1864.
I have read of things terrible and heartrenlding, but
never heard anything to equal the sounds which a rebel in
224 
MISS MIAPY E. SHELTON.
the third story sends forth. I was sitting by mly table,
reading, when a sharp cry of pain startled me, followed by
earnest pleadings for mercy from our divine Father. Then,
in a few moments, shouts of praise, cursing, raving,
shrieks, fiendish laughs, growls like an enraged animal,
and every feeling it is possible to express with the voice,
followed each other in quick succession.
Our room is just across the street, and while I write
night is made terrible by the poor delirious wretch. I can
hear the sick men in the wards below wishing him removed
so they can sleep.  There! at last he is quiet.  A lady
nurse came in, and told me that it was a very wicked man
in the rebel ward, who was " frightened out of his senses'
because two men, in the most fearful agonies of death, were
lying beside him.  Finding it impossible to quiet him,,
the surgeon in charge had him gagg,ed.  It is a revolting
necessity to treat him so.  A thousand sick, wounded, andl
dying would be annoyed all night by him if they did not.
HOSPITAL No. 14, NASHVILLE, August 2..
WThen I first went through the wards of this hospital, I
found a German woman  sitting by her husband ill ward
one.  This ward contains all the worst cases, and the smell
of the wounds made me sick and faint before I was half
through.  But I learned that this woman had bell sitting
in her chair there, beside her husband, for two weeks, day
and night. For recreation, she would walk out into the
city, and buy some crackers and cheese, upon which she
subsisted. Her face was colorless, and her eyes had a
sunken, sickly look. I was carrying a bottle of excellent
15
225 
'WOMEN OF THE wVAR.
cologne and a basket of handkerchiefs.  I saturated one
with the cologne, and gave her husband, and left the bottle
with her.  She was very grateful, and told me that she was
compelled to go out and vomit three or four times every
day, so great was the nausea caused by the impure air. I
arranged for her to sleep at the Commission Rooms, which
are near here, on Spruce Street, and we gave her her meals
from the kitchen. This is against the rules of the hospital;
but the surgeon says he will shut his eyes and not know
we are doing it, if we will not do it again.  Until to-day
we have had no doubt of his recovery; but to-night she
came to me in great alarm, saying her husband had a chill.
I have never yet known a person with an amputated limb
to recover after having a chill.  This man looks so strong
and well, that I hope he may be an exception.
August 6, 1864.
On Wednlesday morlnhlim, and found, the cot
The German in ward one is dead.  On Wednesday morning I went down very early to see him, and found the cot
empty. I asked for his wife, and they said she had gone
out in town.  At the door I met her.  She threw up her
arms, and cried ill piteous tones, "He's gone! 0, he's
gone! and I'm alone - alone!" She supposed he would
be buried that day, and walked out to the cemetery - more
than a mile -and found he was not to be -buriec until the
next day. She asked me if I would not go with her on
Thursday. I complied, and accompanied her, with a delegate of the Commission and his wife.  As the coffins were
taken one by one from the ambulance, it was found that
.her husband's was not there. The chaplain kindly proposed
226 
MISS MARY E. SHELTON.
to wait until the ambulance could return to town; and
while waiting we went to a farm-house near by, and made
a bouquet for each of us. As we stood, with bowed heads,
looking into the graves while the chaplain read the funeral
service, she grasped my hand convulsively, whispering,
"It's so shallow! 0, ask them to take him out, and make
it deeper!" Our nostrils had evidence of the shallowness
of the graves every time the breeze swept over them. The
"escort" fired their farewell over the "sleeping braves,"
and as the smoke cleared away, the bereaved wife dropped
her flowers upon the coffin, and we wearily returned, - she
to take the next train for the North, and we to our sad
work.
August 10, 1864.
This evening, while busy preparing supper, we were
startled by hearing a heavy fall on the pavement, outside
of the window.  We rushed to it, and found that a man had
jumped from the third story porch.  He was sitting up,
looking about him with a bewildered look, when we reached
him.  The doctor says he has broken open an old wound in
his side, and will not recover. He says he had been thinkimng all day how long he would have to suffer if he got well,
and then thought he might suffer for weeks and months,
and then die, and he determined to end his misery at one
leap.  The nurse caught him just as he was going over, but
was not strong enough to hold him. He talks very quietly
about it, and wishes he had not done it, or had succeeded
in ending life and physical pain at once.  He died two
days afterwards.
227 
WO.LIEN OF TIE WAR.
"I wish you would take bed sixty-four, ward two, under
your especial care," said the surgeon in charge to me.
"We have just amputated his leg, and nothing but the
closest watchfulness and most nourishing food will save
him, and I doubt if they do."
I went at once to my patient.  He was a young man,
with what had once been a very strong constitution. As he
lay there, with his pale face, and lips quivering with agony,
I could not help thinking how grand he must appear in the
glory of healthy manhood.  I could see that he clinched
his nails into the palm of his hand to keep back the cry
which he deemed unsoldierly.  But it would not do; a
groan burst forth in spite of him. He turned his fiercelyblack eyes upon me, and asked, dropping the words slowly,
one at a time, " Can't - you - do - something - forme?"  I felt powerless, but prepare,d a stimulating drink
for him, and then left him to attend to others.
One day I was too busy to carry his dinner to him, and
sent it to him by the nurse, postponling my visit to that
ward until afternoon. Between three and four o'clock I
went to see him, and found him weaker than usual, and his
dinner on the stand beside himn, untasted. I carried in
my hand a pretty, delicate fan, which a friend had given
me, and I noticed his eyes follow it backward and forward, up and down, as I fanned him. At last he asked to
take it. He gave it a few feeble flourishes, and then asked
me to exchange with him. "This palm-leaf is so heavy I
can't lift it.  When I get strong I will give it to you
again." I gave it, and asked what he would have for sup per.  "Coffee! coffee, with cream in it! Nothing else!"
228 
MISS MARY E. SHELTON.
was his answer.  "But we have no cream," said I.   No
cream!  WVhy, my mother has milk pans big enough to
drown me in, and the cream is that thick "-indicating on
his fingler its thickness.  "Mother! mother! mother!"  he
cried.
Wounds and suffering, had weakened body and mind
alike; and the strong man was a child again, crying helplessly for " mother."
A few mornings later a nurse brought my  fan to me,
saying, "' Sixty-four' died last night; and when he knew he
was going, he told me to bring your fan to you, and thank
you." The ambulance, bearing him in his coffin, had
scarcely left the gate, when the mother for whom he had
yearned came to the hospital.
Poor woman!  She bowed her gray head, murmuring
beneath the chastening rod, " Tity will, not mine, be done,
0 Father."
HOSPITAL SCENES.
The  inconvenience,  suffering, and unpleasant  consequences of ignorance of military regulations, endured by
women who went to take care of sons, husbands, or brothers, sick in southern hospitals, might form an interesting,
though sad chapter in the history of our great war, and
I give you some instances. 
At the sunset of a sultry clay, I sat by my wihdow,
writing to the "friends at home," when my door was thrown
unceremoniously open, and  a lady entered, exclaiming,
"What shall I do?"  I knew from her face that she was a
quiet, respectable, though uncultivated woman,  and that
229 
IWOMEN OF THE WAR.
nothing but the desperateness of her situation could have
forced her to this abrupt entrance and question.
I gave her a chair, and listened to her story.  Her husbanld had been so severely wounded in the leg as to make
amputation necessary; and she had left home with a hundred dollars, which she had borrowed from a friend, and
had come all the way to Nashville.
She had never travelled before, and had been troubled so
much in getting passes and transportation, that her nervous
system seemed quite exhausted.
Boarding and lodging were so dear that she found it iupossible to pay for them in the city, while hospital regulations would not allow her to stay there. The surgeon said
it would be weeks before her husband would be able to go
home. "I cannot stay -and if I go back, he will die!
What shall I do? What shallt I do?" she cried, wringing
her hands, and sobbing bitterly.
I proposed to walk into the ward and see her husband,
while I thought what I could do for her.  To my surprise
she took me to the cot of one of my "special cases."  "Is
it your wife that has come?" I exclaimed.  "Yes, it's nty
uwife," he replied, while his eyes filled with a happy, peaceful
light. " 0 Hattie, I have dreamed so often of your coining,
that I am afraid I shall wake and find - But no, you are
here - ain't you, HIattie? "
"Yes, Charlie, yes;" and the tears fell fast upon the
clasped hands. The surgeon in charge consented to let
ier occupy an empty cot next to her husband, and the
nurses changed him from the centre to one corner of the
ward. For her board she helped us in the "special diet
kitchen."
230 
MISS MARY E. SHELTON.
Eternity only can reveal the good done by her in the
month she was in that large ward, containing a hundred
beds.  She remembered that Christ had said, " Inasmuch as
ye have donie it unto one of the least of these, ye have done
it unto me;" and day and night occupied her spare time in
administering to her husband's fellow-sufferers.
One day of the fifth week of her stay, I saw a cloud on
her sunny face, and inquired the cause.  She said a man had
died in the ward, and the nurses had carried him out head
foremost, and that she and her husband deemed this a bad
sign. She had tried to divert his attention from it, but he
had replied, " It is no use, Hattie; I shall go next."  And
he did. I cannot calmly recall that parting scene. You
who have laid a dear one under the sod, near your own
home, while friends and relatives wept with you, can know
a part of her grief. But you who have, like her, left the
dear dust to minglle with that of strangers, can realize the
depth of her woe. As the carriage was announced to take
her to the depot, she shrank back, exclaiming, "How
can I go home to my children! I promised I would
not return without their father; and to leave him ill the
cold ground!"  Hers was indeed a sad case.  Her trip
home would use up the last of the borrowed money, and
she would have to take in washing to support her children
and pay back the borrowed hundred dollars.
One day, a well-dressed, intelligent woman called at the
door of the diet kitchen, and asked to see one of the " Christian Commission" ladies.  The surgeon had sent her to me to
help her find her husband, and the directions were, " Bed
231
0 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
one hundred six, ward two." As we went up the steps, I
noticed that she trembled with excitement. I inquired if
she was tired, and she said, "No," though she had slept none
since leaving her home. We entered the ward, and the
nurse pointed out the bed, but it was empty.  I looked at
her, and saw she was deadly pale, and hastened to assure
her that there was some mistake, as she would not have
been sent from the office to look for her husband if he had
been dead.  While I had been ta.lking to her, the wardmaster had referred to his book, and told us her husbanld's
leg had been amputated a few days before, and he was then
moved to ward four.  Again her face was in a glow, and I
could hardly keep her from rushing in unannounced.  We
could see his face from the door, and I thought him asleep.
As I was holding her by the arm, and beckoning to one of
the men to come to us, he opened his eyes full upon her.
Such a scream as he gave!  She bounded from me, and in
a moment had her arms around his neck, both cryiing and
laug,hing at the same time.  I am sure neither of them
uttered a whole sentence for fifteen minutes, so overpowerinog was the joy of their meeting. His recovery was almost
miraculous, and one month from the time she came, she
started home with her husband. The wife remarked, as
she bade us good-by, that she was not half so happy the
morning she started on her bridal tour as she-was now,
taking her husband, though he left one leg in a southern
grave.
Persons unaccustomed to hospital life can hardly imagine
how absorbing it was. Nor can they conceive how we could
232 
MISS  ALkRY E. SHELTON.
find any enjoyment in life while surrounded by hundreds
of those poor wrecks of humanity, from whom  life had
been well nigh driven by southern bullets.  Surely God
will forgive us, if - as the long months of untold suffering
rise before us, whenl we went in and out among-the sufferers, while they wore out life in the vain hope of returning health, and finally were carried to the grave under the
folds of the dear old flag - a bitterness comes to us that no
words can express, and we cannot help rejoicing that God
has said, "Vengeanlce is mine, and I will repay."
Peace has come to us at last; and now, when almost a
year has passed since we sat in front of the White House,
and looked upon the great army, "with balnlers," marching
through tihe streets of Washington, - and the tears came
more freely than the smiles, as we  gazedcl at the bronzed
faces, torn banners, and thinned ranks,- still those scenes
are too vivid for us to realize that the work of the war is
over, and that the dclear, blessed hospital days shall come
back to us no ioreeforever.  We call them  blessed dclays,"
because the joy of ministering to the suffering filled our
hearts with a melody before unknown.   But, as  the darkest day has gleams of light," so our usually dark dclays were
often  illumed with gleams  of brightness.   One gleam,
especially bright, came to us November 4, 1864. It was a
dull, rainy day; such a day as, glancing at the *hospital
windows, you would not fail to see pale faces, full of weary
longing, looking forth.  We  had been all the morning in
the "diet kitchen," and the dinner for our large family of
over three hundred, on special diet, was well under way.
A rustle at the door, and looking up, we greeted Mrs. E.
0
233 
W-OMEN OF THIE wVAR.
P. Smith, the wife of the Christian  Commission agent.
She was always the bringer of good tidings, and this time
especially so.
We have eight boxes of grapes for you," she said; "the
nicest Catawba, Isabella, &c.; and as it is a gloomy day, it
will be pleasant to distribute them at once, and show the
men that they are not forgotten by the friends at home."
We acted upon the suggestion immediately, and, accompanied by the officer of the day, to tell us who could have grapes,
we were soon passing from cot to cot. It was wonderful
how the men brightened up. They could scarcely have expressed more gratitude had we given them clusters of gold
instead of grapes.  One elderly man sat on the side of his
cot, and seemed very impatient as we paused to say a word
to others near him. He had been long prostrated with a
fever, and we were surprised to find him sitting, up; for
only a few days before we had takeia him a few grapes, and
they were the first thing he had eaten for days.  We  knew
nothing would cheer the old man more than a little pleasantry. So, as I came up, I said, with much solemnity,
laying the grapes on his stand, "To thy shrine, O hero of
the war, I bring my humble offering"- but stopped short
at that, for I discovered that his eyes were full of tears.
He then went on to tell me, that one week before he had
felt sure he must die. He could eat nothing, and felt himself sinking slowly into the grave.  Then the grapes were
brought him. In all his life he had never tasted anything
half so refreshing.  The first thing he did was to pray God
to bless the good women that sent them. He took no
more medicine,- and his recovery was rapid, dating from the
234 
MISS MARY E. SHELTON.
first grape he ate. "There is a good wife up in Wisconsin, and a house full of little children, that will bless
the Commission while life lasts," said the old man, with
fervency; and I turned away, lest my own tears should
mingle with the grateful soldier's.
In one corner of one of the wards lay a man thin and pale,
and with eyes sufficiently glittering to represent the Ancient
Mariner. As we came near, we saw he was looking almost
fiercely at the dish piled high with grapes. As we laid an
unusually generous amount on the stand, he smiled grimly,
and began crowding them into his mouth. The officer of
the day came up in haste, and said that man must not ha,e
any; they would injure him. He was not to be so treated,
and clutched them in both hands. The doctor, finding remonstrance in vain, took the grapes from him by force, as
he was too weak to cope with a strong man. A disappointed child could not have wept more bitterly than he
did, to be deprived of the only thing he had wanted for
months. My heart ached for him; but the doctor's word
was law, and we could only tell him how sorry we were. We
were very careful, afterwards, to have the doctor go ahead,
and point out any that could not have grapes, so as to avoid
such disappointments in future. Here and there we found
a man that would look longingly at the grapes, but shake
his head, and say there were others so much worse than he
that they should have them. How glad we were to be able
to say, we have enough for every man in the hospital!
We had one case of a soldier that had been wounded,shot through the breast, - and were thinking how much he
would enjoy the grapes. To the surprise of all, he shook
235
T 
WOIMEN OF TlIE VAR.
his head, and then told us that the discharge from his
w-ound produced such nausea that he had not been able to
eat anything for some time.  lIe would enjoy the grapes so
much but for that! There came to me a bright thoughtjust arrived from the young ladies of Mounlt Pleasant,
Iowa- one box hospital stores, handkerchiefs, slippers,
pillow-cases, and a few bottles of perfumery.  It took but
a moment  to go to our room, return, and the soldier
found himself surrounded by far more savory odors than
ever floatedl from
"Araby the Blest."
e
In a short time our soldier was elnjoying the grapes, and
that evening ate his supper.
Not a great while after, as we entered the hospital gates
with a basket of flowers- the last of the season -to
brighten for a few days the wards~ we were surprised to see
the same soldier walking slowly towards us. He bowed
politely, and to our "What!  you able to be out?" he
replied, -
"Yes, miss, the grapes and cologne saved me."
But it would be impossible to write out one half of the
interesting occurrences connected with that one day's distributionl of grapes.
One bright day in July, as we passed through the wards,
many of the men told us, that they thought if they could
get out into the sunshine, and see the trees and flowers
growing, it would almost cure them. They were worn out
with staring at the bare walls of the Gun Factory Hospital,
ani would so like to see something green.
236 
MISS MARY E. SIHELTON.
According,ly there was a "council of war" held in the
diet kitchen, and the result was, that two very dclemurelooking women, wearing the badge of the Christian Commission, started out to steal.  With covered hanid-baskets
they went directly to the cemetery.  But they surely could
not intend making any depredations there, for every few
steps were signs - "Five dollars fine for breaking,, or in
any way injuring, the shrubbery."  They went all round the
grounds, and soon ascertained that there was only one
grave-digger in the inclosure, and he in a remote part of
the grounds. Whether the Nashville people ever discovered that day's work this deponent saith not; but one thing
is sure: a table in Number One Hospital was soon covered with flowers, from two well-filld baskets.  The next
question was, What would be done for vases? That question was soon answered.  The cans from which the condensed milk had been taken for the puUdillng were just the
thing,.  Soon every ward was bright and fragrant with
flowers.  If the perpetrators of the crime had had any
compunctions of conscience before, they all vanished as
the thanks of the men camne to them from every ward.
While the summer lasted, the flowers did their good
work, but no one could tell where they came from.
237 
CARRIE SHEAIDS.
ETTYSBURG  will be ranked in history as one of the
few great, decisive battles of the world; and, in
consequence, every hero who fell, and a great many of
those who figured there, will eijoy a prominence not
accorded to those who fought and bled on the other
fields. So of those who were casually connected with
those three momentous days, so big with the destiny of
the republic.
The name of Carrie Sheads, besides its association with
that great battle-field, will be remembered as of one who,
being summoned, by the terrible boom of hostile cannon,
from a life of quiet and scholastic seclusion, met the terrible demands of the hour with the calmness of a heroine,
and, amid the roar and crash of battle, and the fierce
hate of the fiery belligerents, acted with a discretion and
genuine courage which entitle her name  and her  act to
be held in perpetual remembrance  by the daughters of
America.
When Lee's army advanced to the invasion of Peunsyl
v       anai a, Miss Sheads  was principal of Oakridge  Seminary, a
s    h     o    r     t      distance west of the villa ge. A s    many idle and
gro            u    ndless rumors of the rebel advance had  reached the
village, she had  at length dismissed anxiety,   become indif                                              (238) 
CARRIE SHEADS.
ferent to the reports, and kept on in the even tenor of her
way; little dreaming how soon or how fiercely the stormn
would burst around her.  The evening, of the 30th of June
came, and with it Buford's cavalry, the van of the army of
the Potomac. The first brigade of this division camped on
the Chambersburg Pike, not more than two hundred yards
from the seminalry.
Closing, the usual routine of the day, she promised her
scholars a holiday on the morrow, to enable them to visit
the camp, and contribute to the comfort of the weary and
hungiry soldier boys.
The next morning was ushered in by the heavy boom of
artillery, soon followed by sharp volleys of carbine and
musket shots.  So suddenly and unexpectedly had war
unfurled its gorgeous but bloody panorama around her and
the cluster of girls in her care, that no timne was left to
withdraw to a place of safety, and the battle was now
actually raging a few hundred yards from her door.
So near the line of battle, and situated on the turnpike,
the buildings of Oakridge Seminary were soon used as a
hospital;  and, with that amazing suddenness which can
happen only in a time of active and invasive warfare,
Miss Sheads found herself converted from the principal of
a young ladies' seminary into the lady superintendent of an
army hospital. The world is familiar with the story-of this
great battle, of which this cavalry engag,ement on the
morning of the 1st of July was the opening; how Buford,
with his handful of cavalry, checked the advance of the rebel
masses, till Reynolds, with the First corps, came to their
relief, and, by the assistance of the Eleventh and part of
239 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the Third, seized upon the key point of the position, -the
Cemetery Riidge, -which was strengthened by the enltire
Ulnion force as it came up, -and which, at the end of three
days of awful carnage, remained secure in the iron grasp
of the Federal army.  The issue of the first day's fight
was the fallinl  back of I-Ioward -who commanded after
Reynolds fell-from Seminary Ridgce, where the action
began, to Cemetery Pidge, on the other side of the town.
Slowly and sadly the veterans of the First corps turned to
obey the order.  And, although the rebels pressed them
hard, and sought by desperate charges and wild huzzas to
rout them in confusion, still they maintained their discipline, and obstinately contested every inch of ground.
Reynolds had fallen, but the dead hero had left his own
gallant and self-devoting spirit in the breasts of his men.
They were fighting on their own soil, by their own  hearthstones, on hills that had been famniliar to many of them
from boyhood; and this had made heroes of them all.
Among the last to leave the field were the Ninety-seventh
New  York  infantry, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel
Charles Wheelock,  who, after fighting hand-to-hand as
long as there was a shadow of hope, undertook to lead his
broken column through the only opening in the enemy's
lines, which were fast closing around him.
Arriving on the grounds of Oakridcge Seminary, the gallanlt colonel foulndl his only avenue of escape effectually
closed, and, standing in a vortex of fire, from front, rear,
and both flanks, encouraged his men to fight with the naked
bayonet, hoping to force a passage through the walls of
steel which surrounded him. Finding all his efforts vain,
240 
CARRIE  SIIHEADS.
he asenlded the steps of the seminary, and waved a white
pocket handkerchief in token of surrender.  The rebels,
not seeing it, or taking no notice of it, continued to pour
their murderous volleys into the helpless ranks.  The colo nel then opened the door, and called for a large white cloth.
Carrie Sheads stood there, and readily supplied him with
one.  When the rebels saw his token of surrender they
ceased firing, and the colonel went into the basement to
rest himself, for he was thoroughly exhausted.
Soon a rebel officer came in, with a detail of men, and,
on entering, declared, with an oath, that he would show
them "southern grit."  He then began taking the officers'
side arms. Seeing, Colonel Wheelock vainly endeavoring
to break his sword, which was of trusty metal, and resisted
all his efforts, the rebel demanded the weapon; but the
colonel was of the same temper as his sword, and turning
to the rebel soldier, declared he would iever surrender his
sword to a traitor while he lived. The rebel then drew a
revolver, and told him if he did not surrender his sword he
would shoot him. But the colonel was a veteran, and had
been in close places before. Drawing himself up proudly,
he tore open his uniform, and still grasping his well-tried
blade, bared his bosom, and bade the rebel "shoot," but he
would guard his sword with his life. At this moment,
Elias Sheads, Carrie's father, stepped between the two, and
begged them not to be rash; but he was soon pushed aside,
and the rebel repeated his threat. Seeing the danger to
which the colonel was exposed, Miss Sheads, true to the
instincts of her sex, rushed between them, and besought
the rebel not to kill a man so completely in his power;
16
241 
WOMEN OF TIlE WVAR.
there was already enough blood shed, and why add another
defenceless victim to the list? Then turning to the colonel,
she pleaded with him not to be so rash, but to surrender
his sword, and save his life; that by refusing he would lose
both, and the government would lose a valuable officer.
But the colonel still refused, saying, "This sword was
given me  by my friends for meritorious conduct, and I
promised to guard it sacredly, and never surrender or disgrace it; and I never will while I live." Fortunately, at
this moment the attention of the rebel officer was drawn
away for the time by the entrance of other prisoners, and
while he was thus occupied Miss Sheads, seizing the favorable opportunity, with admirable presence of mind unclasped
the colonel's sword from his belt, and hid it in the folds of
her dress. When the rebel officer returned, the colonel
told him he was willing to surrender, and that one of his men
had taken his sword and passed out., This artifice succeeded, and the colonel "fell in" with the other prisoners, who
were drawn up in line to march to the rear, and thence to
some one of the loathsome southern prison pens, many of
them to meet a terrible death, and fill an unknown grave.
When the prisoners had all been collected, and were
about starting, Miss Sheads, remembering the wounded men
in the house, turned to the rebel officer, and told him that
there were seventy-two wounded men in the building, and
asked him if he would not leave some of the prisoners to
help take care of them.   The officer replied that he had
already left three.  "But," said Miss Sheads, "three are not
sufficient."   "Then keep five, and select those you want,
except commissioned officers," was the rebel's unexpected
242 
CARRIE SHEADS.
reply.  On the fifth day after the battle, Colonel Wheelock
unexpectedly made his appearance, and received his sword
from the hands of its noble guardian, with those profound
emotions which only the soldier can feel and understand,
and, with the sacred blade again in his possession, started
at once to the front, where he won for himself new laurels,
and was promoted to the rank of a brigadier-general. He
had managed to effect his escape from the rebels while
crossing, South Mountain, and, after considerable difficulty
and suffering, succeeded in reaching Gettysburg ill safety.
General Wheelock finally died of camp fever, in Washington City, near the close of the war, in January, 1865.
As the battle raged, Miss Sheads and her little flock continued unterrified in the midst of the awful cannonade, she
soothing and cheering the girls, and they learniing from
her that noble calmness in danger which, under all circumstances, and in either sex, stamps the character with an air
of true nobility, and indicates genuine heroism.
The seminary was hit in more than sixty places, and two
shells passedl entirely throtugh it.  At length Miss Sheads
and her young ladies became accustomed, as it were, to the
situation, and in the intervals of the uproar would walk
out in the grounds, and watch the magnificent yet fearful
sight, that the slopes of Cemetery Hill presented.
All devoted themselves to the great number of wounded
with whom their halls and large rooms were crowded.  For
many days after the fighting ceased, and Lee had withdrawn
his mutilated army south of the mountain, these poor fellows remained there, and were most kindly cared for, till
all whose illjuries were serious had been removed to the
243
to 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
general hospitals that had been fitted up on the hills at the
other side of the town.
The annoyance suffered by having the battle at their
threshold was not the only trial which the war laid upon the
family of Miss Sheads.  There were four brothers, who,
imbibing the spirit of patriotism which animated so many
thousands in all the loyal states at the outbreak of the
rebellion, thought
"The time had come when brothers must fight,
And sisters must pray at home."''
The two eldest joined the army at the first call for
troops, and by reenlistment remained in service until one
was discharged for disability, and the other fell while
bravely fighting at the battle of Monocacy.
The other two joined the army later; one of whom
entered the hospital at City Point, while the other received,
at White Oak Swamp, wounds which have made him an
invalid for life. All four have proved their loyalty on the
bloody field, and, while two of them
"Sleep their last sleep,
And have fought their last battle,"
another, by her exertions in providing for the sufferers and.
for the family, at the time of the great battlQ, has rendered herself a chronic invalid. Thus five of this interesting and deeply loyal family have laid the most precious of
earthly gifts - life and health- as free-will offerings on the
altar of their country.
244
so
I 
AIRS. STEPHEN BARKER.
AYS an old Greek thinker, "War is the father of
all things."  For it is only in the strife of strollng
passions, and amid the sudden and pressing demands which
arise in a state of war, that fine qualities and superior
abilities find a theatre for their action, and come to the light
of day and the admiration of men.  In all former wars
opportunity was given to man only.  He could distinguish
himself. He could assert his manhood, prove his courage,
and win his laurels.
For woman it only remained to sit i'solitary and anxious
sadness, to follow her hero in thoughts and dreams, and to
await the conflict that should bring him back, shattered and.
bleeding, to receive the ministries of domestic kindness.
Our war  has changed all this.   The history of our
armies, and especially of our hospitals; the great number
of those who recovered from fearful wounds and went back
to their regiments; the still greater number of those who
rose from the beds where they had languished withylingering and painful diseases, - all show that a wonderful advance
has been made in the sanitary condition of armies in active
service.  And this advance is due mainly to the efficiency,
the warmth of devotion, and the systematized sanitary and
hospital labor of unsalaried lady superintendents and lady
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4 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
nurses. In the broad field thus opened for woman, in the
day of national trial and disaster, there is scope and verge
for every style of female character; there is employment
for every sort of feminine skill; there is good to be done,
pain to be soothed, life to be saved, and armies to be kept
up in numbers and in morale, by every class of talent,
by every gift and grace which decorate the character of
the sex.
As, among the men, some can organize an army, but cannot plan a campaiign; some can lead a gallant charge, who
could not restore a broken line; some can animate the flagging courage of a brigade, who could not take the same
brigade across a rapid river, or over a rugged mountain,
so, among the women, one was found exactly adapted to the
management of a large diet kitchen; another could do
most good by sitting beside the cots of the sufferers, and
speaking pleasant words of cheer and sympathy, or singing
old songs in a low tone, or suggesting divine consolations
to those who were passing beyond the reach of all human
medicine.
Others, again, were found to possess a genius for organization. They could select agents and committees with
unerring sagacity and insight. They knew whom to send on
this errand, and who could not discharge this or that office
with success.
Others again -and this number was not large -were found
specially useful as superintendents and occasional visitors,
who should see that no neglect or abuse sprang up amid the
general profusion of fine qualities and generous acts; that
kindness should not be wasted on the unworthy, or chari
246
i 
MRS. STEPHEN BARKER.
ties lavished on those who were hopelessly depraved; that
the machinery of beneficence should not be employed to
serve base or unworthy ends; that funds raised for the
benefit of the soldier should redound only to his good; that
luxuries should not be consumed by nurses and wardmasters; and that the gifts of the people should not supersede, but only make more complete and effective, the
provision that government makes for her suffering sons.
It is in this latter class, of the kind, wise, and judicious
hospital superintendents, that Mrs. Barker belongs.
The period of her active service was the whole time of
the duration of hostilities. She began her work in the
summer of 1861, and did not cease her labors for the
soldier till the armies were disbanded, and the hospitals
dismantled, in the summer of 1865.
Her husband was appointed chaplain of the Fourteenth
Massachusetts infantry- afterwards the First heavy artillery - in July, 1861; and Mrs. Barker, having resolved to
share the fortunes of this regiment, in the service of its
sick and wounded, went to Washington in August, and
commenced at once her hospital labors.
Few of the army workers seem to have brought to their
self-imposed tasks such an earnest desire to ascertain the
precise line of duty and the sphere of greatest usefulness
for a nurse in a military hospital.
In speaking on this subject, Mrs. Barker uses the following language, whose clear good sense at once recommends
itself to those who may desire to learn the best malnner of
making themselves effective among soldiers: -
"Of course no useful work can be accomplished without
247 
~ WOMIEN OF THE WAR.
the consent and confidence of the surgeons. These can be
deserved and won only by strict and honorable obedience to
orders. The first duty is to learn what government supplies can properly be expected in a hospital; next, to be
sure that when they are wanting they are not withheld
through the ignorance or carelessness of sub-officials; and
lastly, that the soldier is sincere and reliable in the statement of his wants.
" The discretionary powers granted by the surgeons was
more than I had even hoped for, and the generous confidence shown by the officers of the Sanitary Commission, in
furnishing the supplies I asked for, soon gave me all the
facilities I needed for an engrossing and useful work."
Mrs. Barker was a general though constant hospital
visitor in Washington  during the winter of 1861  and
1862.
In March, 1862, and from that tiihe on for two years,
till the spring of 1864, she was located at Fort Albany,
one of the defences of the capital, where theFirst heavy
artillery was stationed.  Here she was mainly occupied as
special nurse of the sick and wounded of this regiment.
She depended on the Sanitary Commission for most of her
hospital supplies, and became thoroughly identified with
the regiment, so that she was frequently asked, in jest,
what were her rank and pay. On Sundays, while'the chaplain was about his regular duties, she read aloud in the
hospital, generally a sermon of Henry Ward Beecher, to
which she always found a ready and attentive audience.
The hospital tents were very near the quarters occupied by
,Chaplain Barker and his wife, and they visited the patients
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I 
MRS. STEPHEN BARKER.
at all hours of the day and night; and the poor fellows who
lay suffering there were constantly on her mind.  "Even
when absent from them," she says, "and engaged in other
duties, I still gave to them the warmest offerings of my
heart."
Early in 1864, the United States Sanitary Commission
had determined to employ "hospital visitors," in order to
secure a more thorough and faithful distribution of articles
intended for soldiers, and Mrs. Barker was the first lady
detailed to this special and important branch of service.
The plan upon which she proceeded was to make daily
an inspection tour, visit each bedside, note the wants of
each individual, inquire into any cases of neglect, omission,
or inattention on the part of ward-masters or hired nurses,
provide reading matter, stationery, and other needed comforts.
She found a surprising misconceptio'i in the minds of a
great number of the men as to the real source of their
comforts. Many supposed it was simply good Ulncle Sam
who was looking so closely and so kindly after the wants of
his wounded boys. Others, again, were lavish, and even
touching, in their thanks to her, as though this profusion,
of which she was the only appointed almoner, came from
her own  supplies, or was  purchased with her private
purse. 
In all this I found," she writes, " a wider range of
action, more varied calls for sympathy, greater demands for
aid to both mind and body, all of which were enough to
keep one on the keenest strain of active life, so that there
was no gift, or knowledge, or graceful accomplishment,
249 
VWOIMEN OF THE WAR.
which  did not come in play to complete the circle of
woman's work in hospitals."
The hospitals assigned to her for this kind of visitation
were the Harewood, the Engineers' Corps, the East Capi tol, the Sherburn and Clifton Barracks, the Circle, Camp
Barry, and the Deserters' Hospital.
Harewood contained as many as all the other six, and
she regularly began at the first ward of Ilarewood every
Monday  morning, doing all she thought needful as she
went along, going throLugh as many wards as possible
before dinner at two o'clock. After dinner she took some
one of the smaller hospitals, devoting the entire afternoon
to its wards.
Next morning she began among, the Harewood patients
where she left off, proceeding  as before till dinner time,
and in the afternoon took another small hospital.  Thus,
by constant and systematic labor, she made the round of all
the patients who were in this general way assigned to her
supervision. It was not possible that she should visit and
talk with every patient in so many thousands. But her
powers and duties were soon well understood.   She was
known as "the hospital visitor," and every marked or peculiar case, instance of neglect, privation, or uncommon
suffering or destitution,  was at once called to her attention. An attendant accompanied her, who was loaded with
a great variety of articles. He spoke most of the common
German dialects, so that she could thus understand the
wants of those who spoke poor or broken English, and particularly many from the interior counties of Pennsylvania.
Meantime the First heavy artillery had gone out with
250 
MRS. STEPHEN BARKER.
Grant, and was plunged into one after another of those
bloody battles, which were the hard conditions on which
alone the stubborn rebel chief was forced back to the
lines before  Richmond.   Every  few  days  she would
find one of her  boys  coming  back, in banldages  and
bloody uniform, from Spottsylvania, or Cold Harbor, or
Petersburg.
Certainly the partiality was venial if she lingered a little
longer by their cots, or ordered a special disbursement from
the supply basket, or gave an extra word of direction to
the ward-master and the special nurse. In addition to this
regular and daily round of visitation, her leisure moments
and the evenings were almost wholly engrossed with the
labors of a steadily increasing correspondence.
Sceptical as the soldier had become of army agents and
post-office clerks, he felt certain that any matter intrusted
to her care would be thoroughly and Ilromptly attended to.
Thus she became a special forwarding agent for the soldiers
of money, and various mementos and keepsakes, sent from
the front to her, to be forwarded to their friends in Massachusetts, and other northern states. A letter was mailed at
the same time the package was expressed.  Thus, within a
few weeks, several thousand dollars passed through her
hands in small sums, and all safely reached their proper
destination.  
These labors continued till the latter part of the year
1864, when the New York Woman's Central Relief Association sent for Mr. and Mrs. Barker to engage in a special
home service. Its president, Louisa Lee Schuyler,- than
251 
WOMEN OF TIIE WAR.
whom the war developed no organizing and directing talent
more admirable among all the daughters of America, - had
planned a tour and marked out a programme for them.
They were to go to the various aid societies in New York,
Brooklyn, Astoria, Harlem,  IIastings, Irvington, Rhinebeck, Albany, Troy, Syracuse, Auburn, and Buffalo; and,
while he gave one or more public lectures, she mingled
socially with the various members, talked of her hospital
life, and narrated many scenes and incidents; thus assuring themni that their labors were not underrated, misconceived, or lightly valued in the army, and that by far the
greater part of their supplies was faithfully applied to
promoting the soldier's comfort, and  hastening his convalescenlce.
This service continued till the spring of 1865, when she
returned to the hospitals. At the time of Lee's surrender
there was a call for a special relief system, in preparing the
armies of war-worn veterans, who had suffered so much and
accomplished so much for the nation, to return home in
clothes less ragged and soiled than those in which they had
chased Lee.  Many too, poor fellows! notwithstanding the
universal joy of the hour, were sick and worn down with
protracted fatigues, and needed peculiar, and deserved the
most gratefiul, attention from the citizens of the republic
which they had saved.  MIrs. Barker was engaged directing andcl aiding in a rapid, generous, and thorough distribution of sanitary supplies for the benefit of these noble
fellows. Hospital work was for a time suspended, and the
whole sanitary force was applied to this field of labor,
252 
MRS. STEPHEN BARKER.
which in twenty days was so thoroughly accomplished, that
even the scattered men on detached duty were all visited,
and their wants supplied.
With this service culminated the hospital labors of
Mrs. Barker. Now she sought again home and its sacred
privacy, carrying with her the abundant consolation of
having passed four years of laborious usefulness  in the
most active and wisely directed beneficence.
253 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
THE tocsin of war, when it penetrates to the cottage
where young, married life and love are nestled in the
happiness of secure enjoyment, starts questions as difficult
and as painful in their solution as any that life presents.
Where lies the path of duty?  What shall I do?  Which
horn of this fearful dilemma shall I grasp? I have a duty
to my country, and also a duty, most tender and sacred,
to my wife. Which is paramount? In how many cases,
during our great national crisis, has this question been met
and decided in a spirit that gave the army another hero,
hoping, to live, having everything to live for, yet ready to
die for his country when that sacrifice should be demanded!
On the wife's part, too, how painful and embarrassing are
the questions that arise!  If she remains at home, there are
the constant suspense, the ceaseless anxiety, the abiding
apprehension of evil tidings which may reach her in every
newspaper, or from the cries of news-boys on the streets.
These fill every waking hour, and even in sleep her dreams
are haunted with visions of terror and coming sorrow. If,
free from ties that retain her at home, she accompanies
him, she must share all the rudeness and all the hardships of camp life, and the delicacy and refinement of her
sfex must, for a time, be laid aside; the earth must be her
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I
I 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
couch, an army wagon her carriage, her carpet the greensward, and her boudoir the thin and often dirty expanse of
a triangular tenlt; black coffee, hard-tack, and a slice of fat
bacon, fried on the end of a ramrod, must frequently be her
bill of fare; and with all these she cannot really accompany
her husband.  His duties will keep him by the side of his
men, where she cannot go, unless she should don the
uniform and shoulder the musket; and this would not be
permitted. But it is possible for the devoted wife, without
sacrificing the delicacy of her sex, to be, for a great part of
the time, within short distance of her husband in active
service.  When the forces are in garrison, she can be with
him constantly; and when he is wounded, she may be near
enough to dress his wounds; and when he falls, she may
secure for him a careful and Christian burial. This course
of life was the one Mrs. Reynolds chose in the summer of
1861, when her husband enlisted in th6 Seventeenth regiment of Illinois volunteers.  She is a native of Shelburne
Falls, Massachusetts, and had been married to Lieutenant
Reynolds, a resident of Peoria, Illinois, but a few months
when the war broke out.  The regiment to which her husband belonged was the most popular in the western army,
being one of the earliest in the field, and during the whole
war in active service.
On the night of August 10, 1861, she landed at-Cairo,
Illinois, and the next morning joined her husband at Bird's
Point, Missouri, his regiment being encamped at that place.
From this time till near the close of the war, Mrs. Reynolds kept a journal of her army life and adventures.   Of
her first experience in camp she writes as follows: -
255
L 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
"How could I stay in such a cheerless place? No floors,
no chairs, the narrow cot my seat, my feet imbedded in
the hot sand, the confusion of camp close around me, with
but the thickness of cloth between me and the eyes of all,
the scorching August sun streaming through the low-roofed
covering, - it seemed almost too much to endure; but I
resolved to make the trial. On the evening of the third
day after my arrival, while visiting the ruins of the railroad, our attention was arrested by a shouting in camp,
which, on our return, we found was caused by the receipt
of'marching orders.'   The steamer Chancellor was  to
convey us to Herculaneum, Missouri.  Tents were struck
immediately, but day dawned before the steamer left the
landing. MAy husband was anxious to have me accompany
him, if the colonel's permission could be obtained; but I
feared to make the request, lest it should be denied.
Wrapped in my husband's military overcoat, I sat on my
trunk to await events and witness the embarkation. The
confusion and excitement of the scene were so novel, that
the hours glided by unnoticed. The grotesque figures
standing out in bold relief against the high-piled fires
of barrels, boxes, and other accumulated property,-the
effigies, that seemed writhing in agony  as the curling
flames reached them, -had, mingled with the shouts of the
confused and surging throng, made me forgetful of the
lapse of time, of my exposed condition, and even unconscious that a heavy fog, rising from the river, had saturated
my thick wrappings, when I was aroused from my reveries
by the voice of our colonel, who said,'Are you here, Mrs.
Reynolds? You will be more comfortable on the boat.'
256 
IRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
MIy unexpressed wishes thus granted, I went as soon as my
husband, who was then on duty, returned."
She remained with the regiment, following it in all its
campaigning in Southern Missouri, and on the Mississippi River during the fall and winter of 1861 and 1862.
Sometimes she rode in an army wagon, sometimes in an
ambulance, and sometimes on a mule.   At others she
marched in the dust beside the soldiers, with a musketoon
upon her shoulder. The command was in active, though
not in dangerous service; and this period of her army life
is crowded with many charming reminiscences of out-door
life in the romantic wilderness through which they were
moving. Sometimes, behind her tent, Iron Mountain was
towering in its bald simplicity; sometimes they encamped
in a charming deer park; and at others were wending their
way along the banks of the Mississippi, where the giants
of the aboriginal woods were festooned with a beautiful
tracery of wild vines, and the notes of the bugle could be
heard echoing through the dim aisles of the forest.  There
was one period of quite painful suspense at the time of the
battle of Belmont. She did not know whether her husband
had survived that bloody engagement. "I dared not look
too closely," she writes, "lest some shall be missing; and
while the regiment is closing up in line to receive the
thanks and praise due them from our gallant colonel, I
ventured to ask if all had returned. One replies,'WVe
have lost our lieutenant;' another,'I helped to bury my
messmate.' Brief words! but some mother's heart will be
wrung with agony as she reads of the victory, followed. by
the list of killed and wounded."
17
257 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
The winter was passed in military reviews and in the
gayeties of camp, the Seventeenth Illinois being stationed
at Cape Girardeau.  In the early part of February, General Grant, then commanding the active force in that
region, commenced that brilliant and ever-memorable series
of movements which terminated in the capture of Corinth
and Memphis, and the opening of the upper part of the
Mississippi Valley. Mrs. Reynolds was present amid all
these rude scenes, and in some of them took quite an active
and prominent part. Her journal during this period is
rich ill incident and description, and contains one of the
truest accounts of the first day's action at Pittsburg Landing that has been written.
On reaching Fort Henry," she writes, "I found that the
regiment had that day left for Savannah, Tennessee.  I
had but to remain on board, and we should soon overtake
them. The sight of that fleet, steaming up the Tennessee
River, was one never to be forgotten,- the gunboats, with
their dark, frowning sides, leading the way for nearly two
hundred transports, with their freight of human life.  The
little stream was swollen to a mighty river, and the banks
were clothed in the fresh garb of spring.  The few towns
on the river seemed deserted of all but women and children,
and they showed little rejoicing at the sight of Uncle Sam's
legions.  On the second day out, Captain D. was ordered
on board the Dunleith, a stern-wheeler, as despatch boat;
and as lIrs. D. would accompany him, I should be left
alone. So I concluded to go with them on board the Dunleith. WThile steaming along, noting the peculiar appearance of the dwellings, and contrasting our situation with
258 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
what it was one year ago, we heard a splash, and the boat
seemed turning round and going down the stream.  Soon
the trouble was explained: the wheel had dropped off, and
gone to the bottom.  After drifting about for a short time,
another boat came alongside, and commenced towing us up
the river; but the current was so strong another boat was
required, and we were three days in reaching Savannah.
A dreary town we found here, - a scene of perfect desolation,- and but for the lovely dress of spring, in which all
nature was clothed, the sight would have been deplorable.
"M2arch 21, 1862. - We embark to-night in steamer
D. A. January for Pittsburg Landing.  Ten miles above we
disembark, and camp about three miles from the river, on
a most romantic spot-high bluffs and deep ravines, little
brooks carelessly creeping through the ferns, then rushing
down over a rocky precipice, and bounding along to join the
river. Blooming orchards meet the eye, and tiny flowers
peep out from their green beds.  Deserted cabins are scattered here and there, which seem to have been built for
ages, and tenantless for years. Shiloh meeting-house and
that cool spring are all that make the place look as if ever
having been trodden by the foot of man.
"April 4.- The long roll has called the regiment out,
and we know not what an hour may bring forth.  Pickets
have been driven in, and skirmishing is going Oif at the
front. Distant musketry and the rumbling of artillery past
my tent give the situation a look of reality which I had not
dreamed of an hour ago.  Although so near the enemy's
lines, we feel no fear. Mrs. N. and myself are the only
ladies in camp, and our tents are adjoining.
259 
VWOMEN OF THE WAR.
".April 17.- It seems years since I wrote the last lines
in my diary, such have been the suspense and torture of
mind, and the variety and horror of the scenes through
which I have passed. On Sunday morning, two days after
the last date of writing, at sunrise we heard the roll of
distant musketry; but supposing it to be the pickets discharging their pieces, we paid no attention to it. Ill about
an hour after, while preparing breakfast over the camp fire,
which Mrs. N. and I used ill common, we were startled
by cannlon balls howling over our heads. Immediately the
long roll was beaten, and orders came from the commanding officer of the brigade to fall in.  Knowing my husband
must go, I kept my place before the fire, that he might
have his breakfast before leaving; but there was no time for
eating, and though shells were flying faster, and musketry
coming nearer, compelling me involuntarily to dodge as the
missiles shrieked through the air, I still fried my cakes,
and rolling them in a napkin, placed them in his haversack,
and gave it to him just as he was mounting his horse to
assist in forming the regiment.  His last words to me, as
he rode away, were,'What will you do, Belle?'  I little
knew then what I should do; but there was no time to
hesitate, for shells were bursting in every direction about
us. Tenlts were torn in shreds, and the enemy, in solid
column, was seen coming over the hill in the distance.
MUrs. N. and I, thinking we might have time to pack our
trunks, were doing so, when the wagon-master told us we
must run for our lives; so, snatching our travelling baskets, bonnets in hand, we left the now deserted camp. We
passed the large parade ground, close by our camp, where
J
260 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
the cavalry was forming. Balls were flying and shells
bursting among the terrified horses and fearless riders.
On reaching General Ross'  headquarters, supposing ourselves at a perfectly safe distance from the rebels, we took
possession of a deserted tent, and sat resting ourselves,
when Lieutenant Williams, acting quartermaster, passing
by, saw us sitting there, apparently regardless of the flying
missiles.'For God's sake,' exclaimed he,'run for the
river; the rebels are coming!'  We were by this time
convinced of their close proximity; for we had scarcely left
when a shell exploded close by, the pieces tearing through
the tent, and a solid shot passed through headquarters.  The
troops were now moving up firom the river, pouring along
by thousands, fresh and hopeful, and sanguine as to the
result of the conflict in which they were hastening to engage.  Others were going towards the river, many sick, and
scarcely able to drag themselves along through the almost
impassable roads; and we, while hurrying along, were constantly asked,'What's the matter back here, ladies?'  But
soon enough they ascertained, for the enemy were pressing
closer and closer, and the musketry coming nearer and nearer
each moment.   When within about half a mile from the
river, we came upon a number of ambulances, from which
the wounded were being taken and laid upon the ground
for the surgeons' attention. We stopped, took -off our
bonnets, and prepared to assist in dressing their wounds;
but in less than ten minutes an orderly came dashing up,
with orders to move the wounded immediately to the river,
as the rebels were pressing so closely, they were not safe
where they were. The surgeon said we had better go to
261 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
some of the boats, as we should find plenty to do.  So We
made our way to the steamer Emerald, Captain Norton's
headquarters; and, just as we were going aboard, General
Grant and staff came up from Savannah. Anxious faces
they all wore, though they little knew what lay before
them.  We were rejoiced to find that Mrs. C., one of our
nurses, had arrived from Illinois, with quite a large supply
of hospital stores, for they came not an hour too soon.  A
few moments after our arrival (about ten o'clock A. M.),
Sergeant Autcliff, company A, was brought on board, supported by two comrades.  Both arms were broken.  His
greeting to Captain Norton was,'Well, captain, they have
winged me.'  To see that strong man, now utterly helpless,
and almost fainting from loss of blood, and exhausted from
a walk of nearly two miles, was a piteous sight indeed.
Soon the wounded came pouring in upon us, and for
thirty-six hours we found no rest.'At night we had three
hundred and fifty wounded on board our boat. I dared not
ask the boys if my husband was unharmed, and feared
each mbnient to see him among the almost lifeless forms
that were being brought on board the boat.
"Throug,h the day the thunder of artillery had almost
deafened us; the air seemed filled with leaden hail, and the
spent balls would patter upon the deck like a summer
shower.  Solid shot, directed at the ammuiition boat,
which was close by us, would pass over our heads and
drop into the water. As the sun went down our army
was gradually nearing the river: resistance to the infiuriated masses opposed to them had been impossible. The
rebels now occupied all the camps of the Federal army, and
262 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
the alternative to perish beneath the waves of the Tennessee, or surrender to the exultant foe, was before them.
Never had the fate of an army been more desperate, or its
ruin more inevitable.  Panic seized the half-crazed men,
and rushing down the steep declivity, they came pouring
along by hundreds, each intent on securing his own safety,
regardless of others.   Many attempted to crowd upon the
hospital boats; others swam to the opposite shore. Captain
N. guarded the gang-plank with a revolver in each hand,
and giving me another, I stationed myself upon the hurricane deck, prepared to execute any orders he mnight give
me. But deliverance came to the disheartened army; the
gunboats Lexington and Tyler arrived from below, and
steaming up to the mouth of a little stream, called Licking
Creek, they opened a deadly fire upon the rebel army.
Broadside after broadside of sixty-four pounders was discharged into the midst of the now terrified foe. Fresh
courage seemed infused into our dispirited ranks, for now
across the river we could see the long-expected troops hurrying forward at double-quick to our rescue. HIow we
cheered them! All the transports were put in requisition
to ferry them across, that they might add to the waning
strength of the almost defeated army. Every effort was
made to inspire the panic-stricken hundreds with fresh
courage, but without effect. At the Landing it was-a scene
of terror. Rations, forage, and ammunition were trampled into the mud by an excited and infuriated crowd.
Officers were rushing around, vainly endeavoring to collect
the stragglers from their commands, and lead them once
more to the  scene of conflict.   Trains  were  huddled
263 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
together on the brow of the hill and in sheltered places.
Ambulances were conveying their bleeding loads to the
different boats, and joined to form a Babel of confusion
indescribable. None were calm, and free from distracting
anxiety and pain, save the long ranks of dead, ranged for
recognition or burial, at the hospital on the hill-side. Night
closed the scene. The two armies rested for the morrow's
conflict; ours sad and disheartened, theirs hopeful and
almost victorious. The gunboats were doing a great work;
one after the other would send a broadside; and we, watching from the deck, would listen until the explosion, and
then shout for joy. They were tokens of remembrance sent
to our beleaguered friends. Soon the rain came pouring
down.  What a blessing to the wounded on the battle-field!
Hour after hour passed, and the storm increased; but above
all was the solemn thunder of the gunboat cannon. Towards
morning we dropped down to Savanhah, and unloaded the
wounded; and morning found us again at work, dressing
the wounds of others, who had but just been brought from
the field.
In all this time I heard nothing of my husband.  I
dared not ask those who had come from the field. I would
wait until I should hear that all was well with him, or see
him face to face. The mud and rain made it impossible to
extend our labors beyond the boat; and reports-were continually coming to us that the rebels were retreating, and
that our army, strengthened and encouraged by the arrival
of Buell's command, would probably push them to Corinth.
They had passed beyond our camps, and the way was
strewn with dead and dying. Lieutenant-Colonel Smith
264 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
came from the regiment about dark, with a message to me
from my husband. He had passed through that terrible
battle unharmed, though his horse had been shot under
him. How thankful I was none can know but those who
have endured like suspense and anxiety. There had been
no preparation made for a two days' battle when the army
left their comfortable quarters on Sunday morning, and no
rations had been provided. I knew there was a large supply of bread on hand, and making arrangements with the
cook for a dozen loaves, I supplied the colonel with some
impromptu saddle-bags, and filling them to the brim,'and
tying each end, he threw them across his horse, and started
off. Fortunately for him, darkness enveloped him, or he
might not have arrived with his precious freight. That
night  we rested, though  the storm  was  still raging.
Wednesday morning the sun came forth upon a scene of
blood and carnage such as our fair laid had never known.
The roads were almost impassable; yet we felt it our duty
to go out, and do all we could for those who were in the
hospital. At nine o'clock we left the boat - Mrs. C., Mrs.
N., and myself.  VWe climbed the steep hill opposite the
Landing, picked our way through the corrals of horses,
past the long lines of trenches which were to receive the
dead, and came to an old cabin, where the wounded were
being brought. Outside lay the bodies of more than a hundred, brought in for recognition and burial- a sight so
ghastly that it haunts me now. We passed on, and entered
the house, which contained three rooms. In one were some
fifty wounded; in another (smaller) the surgeons were
amputating. The ladies left me there, and went to the
265 
'WOMEN OF THE WAR.
tents, which were also filled. The sight of a woman
seemed to cheer the poor fellows, for many a'God bless
you!' greeted me before I had done them a single act of
kindness. The first call was for water; and none could be
obtained nearer than the river. I stepped to the door, and
called for volunteers to go with me to the river for water.
Fifteen offered their services. Captain Norton furnished
each with a pail, which they filled, and supplied the wants
of the poor sufferers.  After bathing and bandagilng their
burning wounds, I gave each some jelly, and distributed
among them the little bread we had brought with us; but
the supply was small for hungry men, and I found a sutler's stand, and emptied the contents of my  purse  for
gingerbread -singular food for sick men, but very acceptable. An Irishman, though badly wounded, did much to
keep up the spirits of the disheartened, as he was still in
possession of his native wit, and anxious to make the best
of everything.  I was well repaid for my  exertions in
seeing thenm all more comfortable. How thankful a soldier
is for a little attention!  One old man, whose last days
should have been passed in a quiet home, lay dying; at
every breath his life-blood gushed from the wound in his
breast. At his side lay a rebel soldier, both of whose
limbs had been taken off below the knee by a cannon ball;
his hours were few. HIere lay another; a musket ball had
pierced his cheek near the eye, and reached the lower part
of the brain. The surgeon had probed in vain to find the
deadly missile; his face and the front parts of his clothing
were covered with blood, and his breathing was of that horrible sort which once heard is never forgotten. He, too,
266 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
was past all cure.  Another had a ball lodged deep in the
upper part of his thigh. The surgeons had been unable to
afford him any relief. Hie was very calm, and said he
did not suffer much; but something about his face,
when I looked at it, showed that he would soon be
mustered out.'
"And that operating table! These scenes come up before
me now with all the vividness of reality. Sometimes I
hope it is only a fever-dream that haunts me, but too well
I know it was no dream; for, one by one, they would take
from different parts of the hospital a poor fellow, lay him
out on those bloody boards, and administer chloroform;
but before insensibility, the operation would begin, and in
the midst of shrieks, curses, and wild laughs, the surgeon
would wield over his wretched victim the glittering knife
and saw; and soon the severed and ghastly limb, white as
snow and spattered with blood, would,fall upon the floor
one more added to the terrible pile.
"Until three o'clock I had no idle moments;  then,
having done all in my power to minister to so much
wretchedness, I found my long-taxed nerves could endure
no more.  One of the surgeons brought me a spoonful of
brandy, which revived me. Feeling that my labors were
at an end, I prepared to leave, and had just turned to go in
the direction of the boat, when a hand was laid upon my
shoulder. The shock was so sudden I nearly fainted.
There stood my husband! I hardly knew him-  blackened
with powder, begrimed with dust, his clothes in disorder,
and his face pale. We thought it must have been years
since we parted. It was no time for many words; he told
267 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
me I must go. There was a silent pressure of hands. I
passed on to the boat.  I found Mrs. N. and C. hard at
work, and apparently as fresh as when the day commenced
At night I lived over the horrors of the field hospital and
the amputating table. If I but closed my eyes, I saw such
horrible sights that I would spring from my bed; and not
until fairly awakened could I be convinced of my remoteness from the sickening scene. Those groans were in my
ears; I saw again the quivering limbs, the spouting arteries, and the pinched and ghastly faces of the sufferers.
The following day we visited the boats near us. On
one the surgeon objected to our coming on board, as he
'wallted no women around.' But nothing daunted, we went
in search of any who might belong to our regiment. We
found some of the boys with their wnmds undressed,
many of them having been wounded on Sunday; and,
though there were three or four hundred wounded men on
the boat, there were but two or three surgeons, and they
unwilling to have us relieve what suffering we could. No
hospital stores were allowed us; so, drawing from the small
supply on the Emerald, and from the boat of the United
States Sanitary Commission, in charge of Dr. WVarriner,
we removed the heavy flannels, stiff with blood, bathed
their burning wounds and powder-stained faces, gave them
food, and they sank to sleep like weary children. Mrs.
N., while passing through the cabin, noticed a cot on which
lay a man, his face covered with the coarse woollen blanket.
Supposing it to be one who had died, she went up to it,
raised the blanket, and, to her horror, discovered a man in
the last stages of small pox! She immediately found the
268 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
surgeon in command;, and asked him if he knew of such a
case being on board; when he insultingly informed her
that he would attend to his business, and she might leave
if she were not pleased.  The surgeon's name I have forgotten, but his disregard and inhumanity to the wounded
under his care was reported at headquarters; and, though
his name may not have been branded before the world, it
lives in the memories of those who suffered through his
neglect.
On Saturday night, we were happily surprised at seeing
Drs. Guth and Colburn, of Peoria, they being members
of the delegation from Illinois. Sorely needing rest and
change of scene, my husband obtained permission for my
return to Peoria when the Black Hawk should be loaded.
There were about twenty of our regiment who would go.
Sunday night found all in readiness, and my husband left
me in comfortable quarters on board' the Black Hawk, he
to resume his duties in camp, and I to go to my friends.
Each parting seemed harder than the last, for I knew now
the dangers and uncertainties to which he was exposed.
But my health had been failing since my first month in
camp, and I felt I must recruit now, or I might not be able
to spend the summer with him. There were but two ladies
on board, their husbands being of the party.  The conversation naturally turning upon the battle, many-questions
were asked; and as I had been an eye-witness, all eyes
were directed to me. The terrible scenes were still before
and seemed to be a dreadful part of me, which I was glad
to have removed, if relating them might have that effect. I
told my story to quite an audience of ladies and gentlemen,
269 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Governor Yates being of the number:  As I was one of the
very few ladies who were present at the battle, and had
witnessed so large a portion of its scenes, the story seemed
to interest all who heard, and some one suggested,'She
deserves a commission more than half the officers.''Let's
make one,' said another. No sooner said, than a blank
commission was brought, and the governor directed his
secretary to fill it out, giving me the rank of a major. This
was done: the name of the governor, of Adjutant Fuller,
and the secretary of state were added, the seal of the State
of Illinois was appended, and the parchment handed me,
with many congratulations. I received it, not so much
as an honor which I really deserved, but simply as an
acknowledgment of merit for having done what I could.
I regained my health slowly, making my round three times
a day, to see if all our boys were cared for. On board I
found an old friend, not seen for years, who has since died
from the effects of his wound; another captain, whom we
had met on the morning of the battle, was suffering firom a
severe wound.
"At Cairo we took Captain Swain, of Tiskilwa, Illinois.
Arriving at St. Louis, the most severely wounded were
taken to Quincy, Illinois; and some twenty, who were to
go up the Illinois River, were transferred to a stern-wheel
boat, Captain Swain among the number.   The  journey,
under the most favorable circumstances, is a tedious one;
but to the wounded sufferers it seemed more than they
could endure. Time passed slowly indeed, and to Captain
Swain, who was suffering intense agony, the motion of the
boat was exquisite torture.  One by one the boys were
270 
MRS. BELLE REYNhOLDS.
carried from the boat as we reached the little towns along
the river, and I gave each his descriptive list, and bade
them good-by, some of them forever. Captain Swain was
failing rapidly, and the surgeons thought it impossible for
him to reach Peoria alive. His faithful attendant was always
by him, but his oft-repeated words were,'My poor wife
and little ones!'  They held him to earth by strong bands,
and he only prayed that he might live to see them once
more, and then he was ready to die;'for it was a glorious
cause to give a life to.' But his prayer was not answered.
Conscious that his last hour was at hand, he gave a word
of encouragement to each soldier who stood by him,
beseeching them to give their life, if need be, for their
country's freedom; then thanking those who had ministered to his comfort, and imploring God's blessing upon
them in their arduous duties, he closed his eyes, and died
without a struggle, just as we landed at Peoria.
"The next week, having an opportunity to return to
Pittsburg Landing, though my health was not much restored, I concluded to accompany them. At the appointed
time we left Springfield, and, when we arrived at St. Louis
a boat was chartered for us, and the nurses, - fifteen in
number;- with the delegation of surgeons, embarked for
the Tennessee River, which we reached in safety, and I once
more rejoined my husband."
The months passed in the usual variety of soldier life.
Now the regiment was in Jackson, Tennessee, and then removed to Bolivar, where they were encamped four months.
"In September orders were received for the regiment to
move immediately to Corinth. We were to go by railroad,
271 
WOMEN OF oTHE WAR.
thus escaping the tediousness of a march. General Grant
and staff occupied the car I was in, and then I observed the
trait, so much commented upon, which distinguishes him
from most other men.  He must have been planning his fall
campaign, for from the time we left Jackson until we arrived
at Corinth, a lighted cigar was in his mouth, one serving as
a match for its successor; yet if his reverie was broken
by a question, he answered it pointedly, as though his
thoughts were all centred on that question. We arrived
at Corinth just before nightfall.  The regiment was  to
camp about three miles from town. The road thither lay
through swamps, and was mostly corduroy, very badly
broken by the passage of heavy army wagons; but at last,
rising from the swamp to a high bluff, we came upon the
regiment preparing for the night.  No tents had arrived,
the clouds were threatening rain, and a cold wind was blowing over the bleak hill-side. I had but my travelling cloak
for covering. No trees were near to afford us shelter, and
we saw we should have to pass a dreary and comfortless
night.  MIy husband spread his poncho on the ground, and
I lay down, not to pleasant dreams or sweet sleep, but to
be pelted by cold rain until drenched through and through,
and then to lie and long for morning to come.  But never
were hours so lengthened; and just at daylight, though the
storm was at its height, orders came for the regiment to
move to Iuka. Colonel N.'s tent had just come, and he
insisted on my occupying it, as he was so soon to leave.
With the greatest difficulty I made my way to the tent, and
throwing myself on the cot, was soon insensible to all that
was passing.  When I awoke, all had left but my husband,
272 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
who remained for a short time, to make provision for my
removal to Corinth. At five o'clock he left me in as dreary
a place as I ever found - myself in; but I must not coin plain.  It vas my deterrnbliation to share with him  tlhe
dang,ers and privations of soldier life that had brought me
to such a pass, and I must endure it or leave him. The
pitiless rain was pouring in torrents from a leaden sky, and
a cold wind driving under the tent, with little streams trickling through the thin coverilng, made my quarters anythinga
but comfortable, though, in contrast with the night I had
passed, they were luxurious.  Many of the boys, on leaving, had put their knapsacks in my care, and taking, from
one a blanket, I wrapped myself in it, and sat down to meditate on my forlorn condition.  The fates seemed all against
me, for the wind increased, and I saw, to my dismay, that
the tent was loosened on one side, and that before many
minutes it must go over. Soon a gust dame, flapping the
loosened side, and teariong up the fewv remaining pegs, liftimg the tent from the poles, and laying it upon the ground,
leaving me sitting in the open air, pelted by the merciless
rain.  I took refuge in an adjoining tent, whose inmates
were gone, and soon succeeded ill sending some of the
boys to the rescue of the capsized tent and its contents.
They righted it, and brought me a pair of military boots,
which had been left in my charge; and though it was too
late to save my feet from becoming wet, I donned them,
and made my way back to my quarters,- a dreary place,and sitting down in my wet clothes, to wait, as resignedly
as possible, the arrival of the ambulance which was to conduct me to more desirable accommodations, I was startled
18
273 
VWOMIEN OF THE WAIR.
by a knock at my tent door; and who should stand before
me but my brother, whom I had not seen for two years?
His lieutenant was with him.  Being at Corinthl, they had
heard that our regiment was camped here, and notwithstanding the storm, had found their way to see me.   My
appearance was so ludicrous, that both laughed outright;
lboots and blalnket being the chief features in my apparel.
I was unable to move, and hardly able to sit up.  There
was nothing to offer them, as I had eatell nothing since my
dinner the day previous.  They saw the necessity of procuriing better quarters, and returned at once to Corinth, to
obtain a horse and saddle.  At five o'clock I mounted my
steed for Corinth, and thought my best friend would fail to
recognize me in the ludicrous and forlorn appearance I
presented; but while crossing a swamp, where every momlent I expected to be thrown firom my saddle, as my horse
was plungiing and leaping from one bog to another, I saw
approaching a genleral and his staff, whom I had met many
times.  They immediately recognized me, and after a few
moments' pleasant conversation we passed on."
A short time after, Lieutenant Reynolds received orders
to report to Major-General MeClernand as aid-de-camp on
his staff, and MIrs. Reynolds, after some unavoidable delay,
joined him in Marchl, 1863.  The house occupied by General MIcClerlnanld as his headquarters at Milliken's Bend,
near Vicksburg, had been deserted by its owner.   "Our
tent," she says, "was pitched under the trees on the lawna charming spot, with its long- sweep of green, dotted with
lbowers of roses of every variety. There were climbing
vines, with their gorgeous bloom, and stately magnolias,
2'i74 
MRS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
whose heavy perfume filled the morning air, and suggested
all tropical luxuriance. But our stay in this charming,
spot was of brief duration, General McClernand receiving
orders, on the 29th of March, to move with his corps to
Hard Times Landing, below Vicksburg, Mrs. McClernland
and I remaining behind, with the promise of joining them
when headquarters should be established.
"In the mean time the gunboats and transports were
preparing to run the blockade  at Vicksburg,  and  we
received invitations to witness, from the steamer Von
Phul, this fiery trial.  At first eight gunboats and three
transports were to be sent, with large river steamers,
their boilers well protected with cotton bales. The transports were laden with commissary stores, and the barges
and flat-boats with forage and coal for the army below.
The night was clear and calm.  At eleven P. M. they left
their moorings at the mouth of the Yazoo. All was intense
excitement. The Von Phul was crowded with spectators,
frs. Grant, Mrs. McClernand, and myself being the only
ladies. Our boat was darkened, and with head up stream,
we quietly floated down with the current, until I feared
that we, too, were to join in the daring adventure.  The
smoke, in dense, black volumes, mounted high, clearly
defining their course, though their dark sides were with
difficulty distinguished from the foliage lining the banks.
At last one approached the batteries, closely hugging the
Louisiana shore; another, and yet another, and still no sound
or lightning flash. All had passed the upper batteries, and
come in range of the city's guns. Could it be possible they
would pass by unnoticed? There was breathless silence,
275 
WO.OMEN OF TIHE WAR,
then a flash, another, and soon the heavy boomning of the
cannon reached us. Other batteries opened on them as they
came in range.  As time passed, the batteries lower down
came into action, indicating to us that some, if not all, the
boats had escaped destruction, and were passing on towards
Warrenton.    While anxiously noting their progress, as
chronicled by the reports of the enemy's cannon, we were
horrified by observing that the rebels had lighted an immense beacon-fire on one of the highest bluffs of the city,
which threw a clear and brilliant light over the river, and
brought into bold relief every object passing on its surface.
Guided by the light, the gunners at the rebel batteries now
redoubled their fire, and along the whole line there blazed
a constant sheet of flame. The light had also revealed to
the gunboats the exact position of the rebel batteries, and
soon the fierce screech of the Parrott shells from our gunboats mingled with the din, and -lore than one carried
destruction into the batteries on shore. The upper batteries
finally slackened their fire, and it was evident that nearly all,
if not the entire fleet, had passed the most dangerous part
of their journey; when suddenly a new light creeps up the
sky, and soon we saw that one of the transports was on
fire, and the dense white smoke arising was from burning
cotton.  General Grant, with field-glass in hand, stationed
himself upon the hurricane deck, to watch the progress of
his daring venture. He alone was calm. The whole city
was now aroused, for lights were gleaming in every quarter.
The transport burned was the Henry Clay, the cotton taking
fire from the explosion of shells.  Nothing more would be
276 
MrS. BELLE REYNOLDS.
known that night, and we reluctantly returned to Milliken's
Bend as daylight was breaking in the east."
After the fall of Vicksburg, Mrs. Reynolds remained
with her husband at headquarters, near the city, for a number of months, her time passing very pleasantly in the
customary gayeties of the camp, and in visits to neighboring, places of interest or beauty.  She broke off a bough of
the famous "Truce Tree," under which Vicksburg was surrendered, which she preserves as an interesting memento
of the great scene enacted there. The period for which
Lieutenant Reynolds enlisted expired in the spring of
1864, and his military career and the long series of adventures in which " Major" Reynolds had figured came to
a close, and they both turned again, with inexpressible
relief and delight, to the blessings of privacy and the
delights of home, grateful that God had seen fit to spare
their lives through so many vicissitudes and amid such
fearful dangers.
277 
MIRS. CHARLOTTE E. MlcKAY.
T   IIE facts of personal history that led to the enlist  ment of the soldier were as various as the circumstances of human life; and the same variety and blending
of motive were found among those who  devoted their
whole time to hospital service in the care of the sick and
suffering.
A pure and mere desire to be useful to the country was
the simple but powerful and all-sufficient motive with
some.   Others had sons, or husbands, or lovers in the
army, and entered upon hospital lile with a view of being
near the objects of their love when sickness or wounds
should overtake them in the line of duty.
Others, again, were impelled by religious zeal.  They
thought that among so many young men, homeless and
suffering, in a life of colnstant change and perpetual danger,
opportunities would be frequent for making moral and
religious suggestions with happy effect; that when they
saw Death in so many forms, and faced him every day, the
propriety of being fitted for that change would be obvious
to all. They hoped, too, amid so many dying, to do
untold good by whispering the words of supreme hope and
consolation in ears that were growing dull to all human
sounds.
(278) 
MIRS. CHARLOTTE E. MIcKAY.
Others, again, sought the activity and self-forgetfulness
of army life and army labor to soothe the pain of bitter
bereavement, to give to the suffering patriot those attentions which had now no domestic object uLpon which they
could be lavished. They might use - the words of that
Hebrew widow, who  was also childless: "Call me not
Naomi- call me Mara, for the Almighty hath dealt very
bitterly with me."
"Death," writes Lord Bacon, "arrives gracious only to
such as sit in darkness, to despairful widows, pensive prisoners, and deposed kings; to them whose fortune runs
back, and whose spirits mutiny: unto such Death is a
redeemer."
But the interval between the blasting of earthly hopes
and the arrival of death can be passed in no activity so
wholesome or congenial as in labors of public charity.
Thinking thus, inll the spring of 1862, when her pleasant
home in Massachusetts had been utterly desolated by the
successive deaths of her husband and her only child, Mrs.
IcIKay turned the key in the door of the house which was
dear to her now only for the memory of what had been,
and sought oblivion, and it the same time usefulness, in
the army of the Potomac.  Her army life begall at Frederick City, in Maryland, on the 24th of March, 1862, where
she arrived and commenced her labors just in time to assist
in the care of a great number of wounded from the battle
of Winchester, which had been fought between Banks and
Stonewall Jackson the day before.
The hospital consisted of two old stone buildings, with
some modern barracks attached, all quite unexceptionable
279 
WO0IEN OF THE ~VAR.
in their external arrangements, and the inmates she found
much the same as in army hospitals everywhere.
I find," she writes, "much suffering, both physical and
mental, depression, and discontent. In other cases there are
patience, endurance, and gratitude, and the whole is often
mingled and relieved by touches of the grotesque and
ludicrous." The first care was to administer — sometimes
before they were taken from the ambulances- food and some
slightly stimulating drink.  Then all those whose wounds
were not very deep and painful, after they had been washed
and combed, and their wounds dressed, their torn and
bloody battle clothes replaced by those which were clean
and wholesome, would sit up in their beds, or walk around
the wards, cheerful, sometimes jolly, and always grateful
that it was no worse with them.
The cases of many of these wounded soldiers became
very interesting to MIrs. MIcKay, and the hospital diary
which she kept, during the whole time of her labor in the
army, is rich in incidents and recitals, which are written
with uncommon taste and skill.  One poor German boy she
speaks of, who interested her as much by his misfortunes
as by the noble spirit in which he bore his sufferings.
hIis wound had not been dangerous originally. A ball had
pierced his arm; but the hurt had been carefully attended
to, and he was getting on admirably, when, as he was
crossing the ward one day, his foot caught, and as he was
large, he fell with the whole of his heavy weight upon the
wounded arm.  The consequence was a terrible fracture,
which was found by the surgeons to be incurable, and the
shattered arm was cut off.  For eleven weeks he lingered,
280 
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. McKAY.
at first improving  quite rapidly, but afterwards sinking,
hopelessly. Hie received the most careful attention from
both physicians and nurses, for he  was  a noble-lookiing
fellow, a member of one of the Ohio regiments, and everything, was done to save his life.
Mrs. McKay was his nurse, and her devotion was assiduous; but the care and skill were bestowed in vain.  iHe
was sinkiing into a soldier's grave, and as earthly scenes
failed, he desired to have the supreme rites of his church
performed over his dclyiing, pillow. i He was always glad to
hear portions of the Bible, or any good book, read to him.
Just before he died she saw that he was making an effort to
speak. She bent over him, to catch, if possible, his parting words.  Slowly and with pain he whispered them, one
by one, in her ear: "I want - I want-" said he.   " What
do you want, Russell?"  "I want to tell you -whatwhat I will do-  for you- when I get to - another place."
One Sunday, while Mrs. McKay was superintending the
distribution of dinner in her ward, she heard footsteps at
the farther end of the long ward, and, looking up, saw the
chief medical director, and with him, a few steps in advance,
a gentleman in civil dress, whose bearing at once riveted
her attention.
There was  nothing peculiar in his brown suit, white
cravat, sallow  complexion,  heavy gray  beard,:and the
anxious expression of his face.  Yet in all combined there
was something to arrest and fix the attention in the manner
of the quiet and courteous, yet earnest stranger; and she
stood looking at him, as he passed down the long row of
hospital cots, his keen eye seeming to take in everything,
281 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
and especially the amount and quality of the food that was
being served out to the patients.
Do you know who visited our hospital to-day?" asked
Mrs. McKay of a lady friend, whom she met in the grounds
soon after. " 0, yes, he is a doctor; he was in the Crimean
war, is very rich, lives in Louisiana, is a good Union man,
and owns a large sugar plantation.  He introduced himself
to Dr. W., and asked to look through the hospital."
Not long after she asked the same question of a rebel
soldier in the hospital, and he informed her that this man
was Stonewall Jackson, and that he often penetrated the
Union lines to acquaint himself with positions and movements, sometimes ill one disguise, and sometimes in
another.
The summer of 1862 passed without much novelty at the
hospital in Frederick City, where Mrs. McKay was laboring.  The wounded were mostly from ]Banks's force, who,
during the greater part of that campaign, was pitted against
ktonewall Jackson.   But early in September came the
astounding intelligence that the whole Union force had
been engaged by the combined forces of Lee and Jackson,
at Manassas, and driven in defeat across the Potomac into
IVashington City; and that the rebel army, victorious, but
raggedl and hungry, was advancing on Frederick City.
MIrs. IMcKay, notwithstanding the panic that prevailed in
the neighborhood, determined to remain at her self-assigned
post of duty, and take care of those who were too feeble
to flee before the advancing, foe.  M\Ieanwhile her pen was
not idle, and she has preserved a connected and graphic
account of the rebel occupation.
282 
MRS. CHIARLOTTE E. McKAY.
"As the town could not be defended," she writes, " the
citizens prepared to give Lee as silent a reception as possible.  The Home Guard was sent off, and every patient in
the hospital who could walk hurried to the outskirts of the
town, where  teams  were seized to carry them to a safe
distance.   Immense  quantities  of government  clothling,
blankets, and  other stores, were  heaped  in piles  and
burned.
"Blinds were closed on the houses, and anon the streets
became silent and deserted.  We waited anxiously for their
coming, quite ignorant as to what policy they might pursue,
and uncertain to what fate they might consign us.  At
length, at about ten o'clock, on the morningi of the Gth of
September, the glitter of long rows of polished bayonets
was flashing on the top of the hill east of the town, and
soon after the long column began to pour rather lazily
throu,gh Main Street. A miserable band, with a few cracked
and battered instruments, atteminpted' to play'Maryland,
mny Maryland!' but the effort seemed soon to exhaust itself.
Presently a squad of horsemen from the vanguardl dashed
into the hospital yard, and presenticng drawn sabres to the
few medical officers who stood leaning on the balcony of
one of the old stone buildings, delllanded, in the name of
the Confederate States, the surrender of the post.
"The summons was immediately obeyed, and forthwith
mounted guards were stationed at the door of every wa.rd.
'Our  men  must have  been asleep to let you come into
Maryland,' said one of our hospital stewards to a sternlooking rebel.'Yes,' replied the haughty Southron,'a
good many of them are sleeping at Bull Run.'  Soon a
283 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
brigade of Virginia troops marched up and encamped on
the hospital ground. As they filed in, we could see that
nearly every soldier had on his shoulder a watermelon,
captured from the neighboring field. They quickly seated
themselves in squads on the ground, and began to eat,
throwing the refuse about our nlicely-policed grotunds.  It
was but the beginning of sorrows in that line; for, before
the week was out, the place, which had been a model of
neatness, was turned into a pen of filth.  When I went to
my quarters that night, just outside the hospital  inclosure,
I could enter the door only by stepping over the body of a
rebel soldier, who was lying there insensible, either from
fatigue or liquor.  Another, in the same  condition, was
stowved along on the brick pavement under my window, in
front of which a third stood guard. I passed the night
without fear, though sleep was driven away by the continual tramp  of troops passing alo,ng the streets, and
the  rutmbling  of artillery and  bag,gag,e  wagons.   This
continued, with little cessation, for the next two or three
days, until the whole rebel army had passed through the
town;  and as I sat at my window, watching them hour
after hour, I could almost imagine that all the beggars in
the world had congregated in that mighty host, so ragged
were they, so filthy and squalid in appearance. Yet these
men were by no means ruffians.  Seeing, me at the window,
they would sometimes stop, and ask politely for food; and
when I gave whatever I had at hand, they received it with
gratitude.
When I went among them in the wards which they occupied, they promptly made way for me, and thanked me with
284 
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. McKAY. 
fervor for whatever I could supply for the relief of hunger,
sickness, or wounds. Inl my own ward, which was colnstantly thronged with them, we held long conversations on
the origin, progress, and probable termination of the war;
and many of them I found to be intelligent, thoughtful,
even Christian men, having implicit faith in their cause, in
God as its especial leader, and, next to him, in Stonewall
Jackson.
,On parting with our soldiers, they shook hands cordially, and hoped it inight never be their fortune to meet
on the battle-field.  Some of the officers manifested a more
haughty temper.' Are you tired, soldier, after your long,
march?' I asked of one.'No; I shall not be tired till I
get to Philadelphia.'' But do you know that many of you
poor fellows will find a grave before you get to Philadelphia?'   We expected nothing else, madam, when we came
out, and our homes and our little chillren are as dear to us
as to any others.'' But you are all caught in a nice trap,
and we shall soon see you rushing out of this town much
faster than you came in.''Perhaps you haven't heard,
madam, how we fight the Yankees down in Virginia.''No.
How is that?'   We fight with our muskets till the powder
is all gone; then we break our gunstocks over their heads;
then we take the fence rails, and break them all up; and
then fling rocks at them.'' Very well,' I said;'our soldiers
can fighlt with fence rails and rocks as well as you, andl by
the tilme you get to Philadelphia, you'll have plenty of that
sort of work."'
A few days wvroug,ht an entire change.  The rebel force
vacated Frederick City. The Union army pressed forward
285 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
to engage them, and then followed the great battles at South
MIountain and Antietam, by which the hospitals at Frederick City, and all others in the vicinity, were crowded with
the bleeding and malngled remnants of the great hosts who
contended on those ever-memorable fields.
For many days the inmates of this hospital were surrounded by the roar and intense excitement of great
military events.
Perched upon the highest point of the hospital buildings,
Mrs. MIcKay, and the few who remained in the midst of
scenes so rude, watched the swaying and changing lines.
Nowv a party of skirmishers are making, their way across a
cornfield.  "Soon they tear away the fence, and are in the
hospital grounds.  Vre rush to meet them, take them by
the hand, lead them into the house, and set before them
food, whatever we can find.  They eat hastily, and hurry
back to their places in the ranks, for there is no time or
place for rest now."
Mrs. McKay remained on duty in this hospital for some
time after Lee, with his decimated army, had fallen back
into Virginia, and established his lines along the south bank
of the Rappahannock.
At the time of Burnside's unfortunate advance and illplanned attack at Fredericksburg, she went to Washington
City, and in the hospitals there nursed many-of those
who had been brought directly from that disastrous field to
Washington.
Early in January, 1863, she was, after much difficulty,
furnished with a pass which admitted her within the army
lines at Falmouth, where the army was encamped. She
286 
MRS. CHARILOTTE E. McKAY.
spent  several days  in visiting her  brother  and other
friends in the Seventeenth Maine volunteers, and then
sought active employment as a nurse in Third Corps Hospital, which had just been established.  She was so fortunate as to find quarters in a house near by, and received
permission from the surgeon in charge to work for the
patients.  There was need enough of work, and of hospital supplies for the poor fellows, many of whom, very
sick, were lying, in tents, on the cold, wet ground, with no
other bed or covering than an army blanket, and no other
diet than salt pork, navy beans, and hard-tack. For the
establishment of a special diet kitchen there was literally
nothing on hand.  She had brought a few utensils from
WVashington, and with these and the cans in which preserved
meats and fruits had been brought, and a little iron boiler,
occasionally borrowed from an old negro woman, she was
soon able to send out into the different wards puddings of
corn starch and farina, beef tea, chocolate, tea, soup, and
jelly, which, with good fresh bread and butter, were indeed
luxurious fare for the poor fellows, as compared with army
rations.
By degrees the hospital improved, and assumed a comfortable and even cheerful appearance.   General Birney
sent daily details of men to cut poles in the woods and
make bunks, which, with the help of straw and blankets,
made beds that were quite comfortable.  And Mrs. Birney,
who frequently visited the patients, encouraged and cheered
them by her charming presence, and by the gifts of delicacies, with which she always came abundant]y supplied.
Other stores were drawn from the United States Sanitary
287 
WVWOM[EN OF THIE WAR.
Commission, and various other sources, until the diet table
showed quite an extensive variety.
About the middle of April the First division, Third corps,
moved to Potomac Creek, about ten'miles from Falmouth,
and a new hospital was established there.  A  few days
after, the whole army crossed the Rappahainnock, and the
long, bloody, yet  indecisive  battle of  Chanlcellorsville
ensued.  Here Mrs. McIKay's wish of being close in the
rear of a great battle was fuilly realized. With an ambulance well loaded with supplies, she was able to follow the
army across the pontoon bridge, and established herself at
a large brick house, two or three miles from the front line
of battle.  In a few hours, this house, and all the surrounding grounds, were crowded with men wounded and dying,
and there were exhibited all those various and ghastly
spectacles which are the terrible, though inevitable, consequenices of war.  These scenes were, soon made still more
distressing for her by terrible reports that came from  the
front. She was told that her dear brother had fallen in the
conflict, shot through the heart, and that many other friends
had shared the same fate. After the army - baffled, though
never fully engaged -was withdrawn to the north side of
the river, immense trains of ambulances were busy, day and
night, drawing  their loads of wounded over roads indescribably wretched, while thousands were left suffering and
dying on the field.
" We have lost too much to give up now; we have something to revenge," said Captain F., her brother's friend and
tent-mate, as he stood one evening in front of her tent, just
ready to mount his horse and ride away. He was very
288 
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. McKAY.
pale, and there was a gravity in his manner quite unnatural, for he was usually gay, and apparently lig,ht-hearted.
A few weeks later, and he lay writhing in pain, and dying
on the bloody field of Gettysburg.
When the Union army left its base at Falmouth and
Acquia Creek, and moved forward to confront the haughty
rebel force on northern soil, the hospitals were broken up,
and the patients sent to WVashington, where also Mrs.
McKay went, to remain until it should be known where,
along or within the border, the great blow had been struck.
On the 4th of July the Wlashington journals contained
accounts of the great engagement on the 1st, 2d, and 3d, at
Gettysburg.  On the 6th Mrs. McKay went to Baltimore,
and thence to the point nearest the field accessible by rail.
After some delay and difficulty, travelling the last twentyfive miles in a huge army wagon, on a pile of forage, she
reached the hospital of her division, about five miles from
Gettysburg; and here, for the remainder of July and the
greater part of August, her labors were such as the vast
accumulation of suffering around her seemed to demand.
Her labors and annoyances in conducting the special diet
department were greatly increased by the absurd and vexatious red tape-ism of some army officials, who not only
objected to volunteer lady nurses, but threw all obstacles
and impediments in their way.
For almost the whole time of her labor at Gettysburg
she had no facilities for cooking for a thousand or fifteen
hundred sick men but a row of camp kettles, suspended
from a long pole. Her requisition for a stove was brought
back disapproved by the medical director of the post, on
19
289 
',VOMEN OF THIE WAR.
the ground that he had stoves in Baltimore, which, when
they came, were found entirely unfit for field use.
In the fall of 1863, when those who remained of the
Gettysburg sufferers had been collected in one great hospital, Mrs. McIKay again sought the front.  Warrenton, iii
Virginia, was now headquarters, and there were much suffering and destitution in the numerous regimental hospitals.
These, especially those of the Third division, she visited
regularly, dispensing such comforts as she could draw from
the Sanitary Commission and other sources.
Very late in that year came the fight at  {inle Run, in
which this division suffered severe losses; and soon after
the Army of the Potomac went into winter quarters, and
Brandy Station here became the hospital cenitre.  The
usual routine of well-organized hospital labor filled the
time during that winter and spring, till the order of March
26th removed  all ladies colnnected,with the various associations, commissions, and agencies, operating within the
army lines."
Imposing as was the sound of this order, its effect was to
banish good and faithful army nurses from the lines barely
for a month. Inl the early days of May camne the great
battles of the Wilderness and Spottsylvania.
All the hospital workers agree that at no time during, the
war was there such an accumulation of suffering as during
the months of May and June, 1864.  Great battle followed
great battle with appalling frequency. The contest seemed
to have changed its principles. It was now a question
which army could survive the most copious blood-letting.
Hospital accommodations were large, yet sadly inadequate.
290 
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. McKAY.
Transportation was at times so embarrassed and delayed
that vast numbers suffered from hunger, and many of the
sick and wounded perished for want of suitable and
sufficient food.
In all these fearful scenes and constant labors, Mrs.
McKay took an active and efficient part.
Iln the hospitals at Fredericksburg, White House, and
City Point, she labored for the sick of the division with
which she had been so long connected.  But about the first
of June the army organization was considerably changed.
The old Third corps was so reduced by sickness and battle
that it was now made the Third division of the Second corps.
Most of the old surgeons were dead, or had left the service,
and Genera] Birney, who had long been her friend, was
now transferred; and Mrs. McKay accepted an invitation
from the surgeon-in-chief of the Cavalry Corps Hospital to
attend there and take charge of the spcial diet department.
Here she labored for nearly a year, till just before the fall
of Richmond, and the close of the war.
Many incidents occurred during her stay which illustrate
the swift vicissitudes and tragic scenery of war, as well as
the kindness and fidelity of Mrs.  McKay's labor.  One
evening, as she was sitting in her tent, the flap was drawn
aside, and a pleasaut-looking soldier boy inquired for Mrs.
S. "She has gone out just now; can I do anything for
you?"  "I am her son," was the reply, full of repressed
emotion.  She directed him to the place whither his mother
had gone, and soon after saw them united in a tearful embrace. Mrs. S. had given four sons to the Union army,
and they had enlisted from the noblest and most patriotic
291 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
motives.  One, reduced to a skeleton by sickness following
exposure, had gone home to die. Just a year from the day
of his death a second son had died in the hospital.  Hiearing of his illness, ill her home in the northern part of
Mlaine, she had hastened to his bedside, to minister the last
offices of maternal affection; but when she reached the
Cavalry Corps Hospital he had been lying five days in tile
grave.  Her grief was very great; but seeing so many
suffering, whose kindred were  far away,  she restrained
her emotion, and devoted herself to caring for the sick,
becoming so much interested in the work that she begged to
be put onl permanent duty in the hospital.  The men were
always glad to see her ill the wards, because, as they said to
her, "you seem so much like my mother; your hand feels
so much like my mother's hand."  A third son was in service in Florida; and, after two years of separation, suffering much from hunger, weariness, and hardship, the fourth
was for a few hours with her again. They speak tearfully
of the past, and not without anxiety of the future. lie
tells her of comrades - some of them old playfellows from
the same town- -killed in battle; especially of one poor
fellow who was shot on picket after his term of service had
expired, and says of him, "Tell his mother he was a good
soldier." They speak of him who has just passed away to
his eternal home, and after a while go out to visit his grave.
He lies in the little cemetery of the hospital, just in the
edge of the woods, near the bank of the Appomattox.
There sleep more than a hundred soldiers of the cavalry
corps who have cdied in the hospital. They lie, each one
with his little head-board, giving his name, regiment, and
292 
MIRS. CHARLOTTE E. McKAY.
the date of his death, in rows as regular as those in which
they lately stood on dress parade, or drawn out in line of
battle. But time is precious, and they cannot stay long, to
weep at his grave, for the few hours of the son's furlough
soon pass, and he bids his mother good-by, saying, "Do
not fear for me, mother; if I die in battle or in camp I will
surely meet you in heaven."  lie carries under his arm a
little bundle, which it had been a pleasure to prepare for
him: shirt, drawers, socks, handkerchief, towel, and some
little dainties to tempt his appetite, tied inll a large, colored
handkerchief, which he will find it pleasant some cold night
on picket to tie around his throat - little gifts, promptings
of a mother's love, how invaluable to the soldier boy!
One afternoon one of the ward-masters came  to MIrs.
McKay, and said, " Jimn is dead! "  Ile was a man to whom
her attention was called, when he came to the hospital, as a
brave soldier, and worthy of special attention.  It was hoped
that something might be done for him; but all efforts for
his restoration were unavailing,  and he sank gradually
away.  On the morning before his death, he said, in reply
to Mrs. McKay's inquiries concerning his health, that he
felt quite well, and could eat anythiing; but his lips were
then stiffening with the frosts of death, and his limbs nearly
cold, and in a few hours he was gone.  Ie was respectably
connected, and the possessor of quite a large property.
While absent in the three months' service, at the comimencement of the war, the young girl to whomn  he was en,aged
to be married was lost to him through the treachery of one
who had supplanted him in her affections.  Fromn the time
he arrived home and learned the facts, his sole object in
293 
WOMIEN OF THiE WAR
life had been to punish her seducer. The latter, being made
aware of his intention, immediately left the place, and went
to AVashington. Thither he followed, and learning that he
had enlisted in a Pennsylvania regiment, hesitated not to do
the same. Before he could reach the regiment, intelligence
came that the object of his pursuit had been captured while
on picket.  AVhether,this wvas true, or vwhether, learning
that the avenger was at hand, he had deserted to the
enemy, was never known;  but it is certain that, after
three years of baffled efforts, worn out with hard service
and exposure inll camp and field, added to the burden of
mental anguish which he always bore, poor  Jim" came to
the hospital to die, the wreck of a once noble and generoushearted man.  A few days before his death he transmitted
to his friends a large sum of money, to be used for the poor
girl's benefit, whom, with her child, hle had  maintained
during his absence, though he had entirely relinquished the
idea of marrying her.
The vigilance required to prevent sanitary stores in
transit from falling into unprincipled hands is fully illustrated in a mishap which occurred to Mrs. McKay in
the summer of 1863.  At ITashington she had packed a
I-)ox containing a large number of articles, useful for her
own  mess and for preparing special diet, and some choice
liquors.  Havingl obtained transportation, it was put on the
same train of cars onl which she herself took passage.  At
the last station before reaching Sulphur Springs, Virginia,
her destination, she inquired for her box, and was told that
the baggage train had stopped several miles back, at Warrenton Junction; it had not come, but would be there the
294 
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. McKAY.
next day.  She went on to General Birney's headquarters,
at Sulphur Springs, nine miles from the station, that evening,, in a mail wagon, and soon made herself acquainted
with the wants of the sick in the division; but without her
box- the contents of which would be a complete outfit for
hospital operations -she could do nothing for them. The
need was so great that one of the surg,,eons rode twelve
miles for a paper of corn starch, and she herself rode sixteen to procure half a bottle of brandy.  After repeated
orders having been sent to have it brought up ill a headquarters wagon, without effect, she started in her ambulance
to hunt it up. She first went to Germantown, where were
the headquarters of the army, thinking it might have gone
to Dr. Letterman, it being consigned to his care.  Not
findingl it there, she went to Bealton, thence to AVarrenton
Junction, andl finally to Warrenton, where she had the sat isfaction of finding her box, and bringing, it back with her
in the ambulance.  After a laborious and vexatious trip of
thirty-five miles, what was her dismay and chagrin, upon
opening it next morning, to find it filled with old chains,
halters, broken harness, and one old horse blanket! The
teamsters at Warrenton, where she found it, had "con fiscatecl " its contents, and filled it with old trash from their
wagonl boxes.
At the time of the battle of Hiatcher's Run she was still
engaged in this hospital, and speaks thus of the scenes that
followed that action:
"Hearing that several had been brought in dead, I went
this morning to the tent used as a receptacle for such, to
see if any of my acquaintances were among them.  They
295 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
were lyiong stiff and cold, in their uniforms, just as they
fell ill battle. As I drew aside the blue overcoat capes
which had been turned over their faces, what was my sur prise and pain to recognize among these frozen sleepers two
young officers who were in the hospital with wounds only a
few months ago! One had been a special friend, Captain
Harper, of the fourth Pennsylvania cavalry.  Only a few
days ago he called at my quarters.  Ile had just returned
from a leave of absence, during which he had visited his
home.  Full of life and energy, in splendid uniform, and
mounted on a powerful horse, he was the picture of a gallant soldier.  Now, as I write, he lies stretched in his
rou,gh coffin, his manly features rigid in d eath, awaiting
burial."
The labors of Mrs. MicKay at the Cavalry Corps Hospital did not fail of being fully appreciated by the gallant
menll whose sufferings in wounds and sickness she was able
to palliate. As a Christmas present, on the 25th December,
1864, they had given her a very handsome gold badge and
chain, of exquisite manufacture, with the inscription, -
"Presented to Mrs. Charlotte E. McKay by the soldiers
of the Cavalry Corps Hospital.  Army of Potomac,  in
front of Petersburg. December 25, 1864."
So, also, a few months before, when nursing the wounded
of the Seventeenth Maine volunteers, at Chancellorsville,
she had received a magnificent Kearny Cross, with the front
inscription, " Dulce el decorum2 est _pro patria v)ori; " and
on the reverse, "Presented to MIrs. C. E. McKay, by the
officers of the Seventeenth reg,iment Maine volunteers.
May, 1863."
296 
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. McKAY.
Although her labors as nurse did not continue after
March, 1865, she remained in Virginia for more than a
year, engaged with the freedmen; nursing the sick, taking
care of those who were unable to care for themselves, listeningc to many a weird tale of cruelty and injustice in the
old days of bondage, and giving the rudiments of education to minds that were sittilng in darkness.
Althoug,h as constant and laborious in hospital labors as
any, she yet found time to record scenes, conversations, and
incidents,  m any of which are of uncommon interest, and
recited in graphic language, as the following, that are
subjoined to this sketch of her labors, will show:
TilE SOLDIER'S GRAVE.
On the 28thi day of October, 1863, the headquarters of
the Army of the Potomac broke camp at Auburn, aind
moved to Colonel Murray's farm, abput two miles fi'om
WVarrenton Junction.
The headquarters moving, though not so grand or striking
a spectacle as you will often see in military life, is still
quite imposing, and by no means destitute of the "pomp
and circumstance of war."  Altogether it is about as long a
procession as the eye can take in at once, consisting, of the
bag,gage wagons and private carriages of the generals and
other officers filling the various departments of the army,
accompanied by their battle-flags, a heavy escort of calvalry,
a regiment of infantry, wagons belonging to the subsistence
department, and at this time a large number of rebel
prisoners marching under guard.
We moved along slowly over the hills, through the
297 
WOAOMEN OF THE WAR.
wooded country, but soon emerged upon the plain of
Bristow,where had recently been fought the battle which
gave to Meade, instead of Lee, the coveted heights of Centreville, and to General Warren the laurels which have
designated him "Hero of Bristow."
It is a desolate region, and, especially at this season of
the year, affording little to attract or satisfy the eye.  Yet,
as we passed along, my attention was arrested by a little
scene, which forms a picture in memory never to be effaced.
Just off to the right, a short distance over the plain, was a
soldier's grave, newly  made; and ranged along, side by
side, bowed on reversed muskets over the grave of their
comrade, were four soldiers, apparently engaged in prayer.
They had turned aside from the weary march, and there,
unmiindful of the gay procession passilng by, with heads
bowed low, and solemn countenances, gave a few moments
to communion with Heaven, and a few tears to the sleeper
below.  Did they think, in those moments, of breaking
hearts, far away, yearning with vain desire to kneel by that
lonely grave?  Were they recalling the many fearful engagements in which they and the fallen hero had fotught,
side by side, and crying out in their hearts, "Such is the
price we pay for human freedom; so much it costs to
secure to our children the blessings of a good government "?
Or were they anticipating, other battles speedily approaching,, and wondering if they would be the next to fall, and
who would }e left to pray over their graves?  I know not
what were their thoughts; but these and many others
rushed upon my mind, and I, too, gave a tear to the solitary
grave.  Yes, this was a solitary grave;  but on many
298 
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. IMcKAY.
hill sides, and in many valleys of Virginia, you will find
them strewn, "thick as autumn leaves in Vallambrosa's
brooks."  There sleep our brothers and our solns - the best
we had to give; the costliest sacrifice we could ofler on the
altar of our country. Their last battle is fought, their last
march ended; their last bivouac is made.  They sleep well,
in that deep slumber from which no bugle call, or sound of
any kind, shall awake them, until the loud reveille, which
shall "shake, not the earth only, but also heaven."  But
who can number the tears that flow, or the hearts that
break with longing for the sight of those who shall return
no more?  WVhat eye, save that which comprehends  immensity, can measure a nation's grief, as, like the foot-worn
soldier, she bows over the graves of her fallen sons, and
from the depth of her anguish, cries out, "Such is the price
we pay for human freedom "?
ON A STRETCHER.
Wlhen our colonel's wife came to camp last winter, she
expected to have a good time of it, Our colonel had had
his quarters arranged in the best camp style.  A nice plank
pavement all around, wherever she might choose to walk;
trees planted so thickly about the tent that you would think
you were entering a natural forest; a pretty archway, made
of green boughs, at the entrance, with the red badge of the
division in the cenltre, and everything about the premises
quite at fctt.  AVithin all was cosy and comfortable; the
walls splendidly illuminated with pictures from Harpers'
WVeekly and Frank Leslie's Magazine; good board floor;
plenty of chairs and boxes, on which the colonel's numerous
299 
WOMEN OF TIE WAR.
friends could sit around the capacious fireplace, and gaze
upon the ever consuming, but never consumed secesh logs;
or, if of an inquisitive turn, look into the little inner sanctuary, just big enough for a bed, and to turn around in.
So we were all glad when the colonel's wife came among us,
for the presence of a lady in camp is always welcome; and
though we cannot all have our wives to winter with us, the
sight of one seems to bring home nearer.  Camp life is not
always destitute of amusements, and last winter everybody
said it was very gay. There were lots of balls and receptions, and visiting from one camp to another, riding on
horseback or in ambulances, - for many other officers
besides our colonel had their wives with them; and,
although we were not within the charmed circle, we could
see, as we paced our beat, or stood on guard, or lingered
at the door of our hut, a good deal of what was going, on.
We knew when our colonel's wife got her new riding-dress
and hat from Washington, and saw her when she first
mounted her horse for a ride, and often afterwards watched
the gay cavalcade, of which she was one, galloping over
the hills, and vowed that if ever "this cruel w-ar is over,"
our nice little wife should have just such a ri(-;ng-dress and
hlat, and we would have a ride, if two hor:-e~s v.rcre to be
found in the country.  So the winter was nearly over, and
our colonel's wife had enjoyed her share of whatever amusemnlent the Army of the Potomac had to offe(r.  But there
was one experience she little thought to encounter still in
reserve for her, and that was, being carried " on a stretcher."
It was brought about on this wise: she had taken several
rather hard rides on horseback, to which she was not much
Soo 
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. McKAY.
accustomed, sometimes on cold, windy days, and on a fast
horse; and being, rather ambitious, and not willing to give
up when prudence might have dictated rest, she all at once,
and quite contrary to her plans, found herself on the sick
list.  Being sick in camp is no joke, and least like one to
the lady in question; but pains in the back and head, and
sleepless nights and days, and constant nausea, are stubborn
facts, to which the stoutest heart must cry, "I surrender!"
So, with all the colonel's good nursing, and the doctor's
prescriptions, and visits from sympathizing friends, " she
was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse." And right
upon this, an order came for our division to move camp.
Military orders make no exceptions; and hard as it might
seem in this state of things, the cosy quarters must be
evacuated, and new ones sought in a camp three miles
distant. The lady's illness had reached a point where,
indeed, it might be said, "the spider's most attenuated
thread is cord, is cable, to the slender hold she had on life,"
and the slightest jar might snap the thread, and then all
would be over.  Riding in an ambulance over the rough
roads and corduroy bridges was an experiment not in the
least desirable, and the only resort which camp afforded was
a stretcher. Our stretcher-bearers are sufficiently accustomed to bearinng wounded and dead men from the field,
or sick men to and from the hospital; but a lacy on a
stretcher is something quite unique.  Eight men, making
four reliefs, were detailed to accomplish the delicate task;
and with infinite care and tenderness, our colonel's wife
was laid on the ominous little vehicle, to commence her
new method of transportation. The colonel accompanied
301 
WVOMEN OF THE WAR.
the party on horseback, and six of the men took their turns
in going ahead as pioneers, to select the smoothest places.
Is that a dead man?" "0, that is a woman. Is she dead, or
what's the matter with her?"  These questions being asked
by stragglers, in the hearing of the lady, were not much
calculated to raise her spirits and facilitate her conva
lescence.
The removal, however, was accomplished with much less
disadvantage than was feared; and now that she is restored
to health, she looks back upon it as rather a gay adventure,
and declares that she outdoes the colonel in military experience, since he, in all his three years' term of service, has
never been carried on a stretcher.
LIFE IN THE TENTED FIELD.
They have gone - they have all passed by." Nothing
can be seen of them now but a long line of flashing bayonets, passing close under the brow of yonder hill. First
went a few miles of cavalry (interspersed with batteries
of artillery), the rattling of whose sabres always announces
their approach before you hear the tramp of their horses.
If you happen to be near them as they pass, you will hear
them jesting in merry tones, or singing snatches of rollicking songs.  They go out ready to do and die; and, whatever else happens, we may be pretty sure that the cavalry
will not disgrace us.
Next to them went their ambulances, painfulily suggestive
of broken limbs, fearful sabre gashes, and bullet holes
through the lungs; worse things than those sometimes,
but we must not think of them now.  Then their train of
302 
MRS. CIIARLOTTE E. McKAY.
baggage and supply wagons, winding along for a mile or
two, and this is the last we see of the cavalry.
A  few hours pass on, and looking far away, over the
hills, we see a long, dark line in motion; and experience
tells us that it is a body of infantry. As they come out of
the shadow of the hill, their bayonets begin to gleam, so
that now, in the sunshine, they look like a line of blazing
light, and come pouring on, officers riding at the head of
their various commands, colors and battle-flags waving on
the air, some of them pierced and torn in many places, but
)borne all the more proudly, and guarded the more sacredly,
for that. Presently other columns, from other camps, and
winding, around other hills, come  on; but they are all
moving inl one direction. Where they are going, or what
for, nobody knows at present.  As they come nearer, you
see that many of them have attached to their knapsack
straps tin cups, frying pans, tin pails,,coffee pots, and also
a loaf of bread on their bayonets. They seem in good
spirits, and, like the cavalry, are amusing themselves with
singing and joking.
"Glorious fellows!" exclaimed an officer of high rank, as
a part of his command was marching by. Hle was thinking
how gallantly they had behaved on many a hardly-contested
field, and how well he might rely on them to follow
wherever he should lead in future.
"Poor fellows!" said, in the same moment, a woman, in
sympathizing tones.  She was thinking of fearful sights in
crowded hospitals, cruel wounds, amputated limbs, pale
faces, and brave, faithful hearts, worn out with excess of
anguish. So they pass along for many hours; and after
303 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
them come their trains of ambulances, baggage and supply
wagons, and lastly a drove of beeves, proportioned in numbers to the rations they are to serve. Now, at last, they
are all gone.  The camps are like deserted cities, foi they
have left their huts and tents standing, hoping to come back
to them in a short time.  A few soldiers, unfit for t march,
are walking around, or lying in their tents; here andl there
you may see a smoke lazily ascending, but the atmosphere
is relieved of that dense body of smoke which usually
hang,s over camp.  The stillness is painful.  We sit down
mournfully, and wonder where our friends are going, and
what is on the tapis now; for dear and noble souls have
gone out to-day, and many such we have seen go out to
return no more.  In our hearts we pray for them, and then
look out to see what signs of the weather, and hope it will
not rain.  At night we think of guerrillas.  We know that
our picket line is thin, and that a treacherous and unscrupulous foe is always goilng about like a roaring lion, seeking
what he may "gobble."  Our sleep - if we get any- is
light, and often broken by anxiety.  We dream of battlefields, rebel cavalry, and journeys to Richmond. In the
morning we hear a distant cannonading; but our ears have
become accustomed to the sound, so that we are not startled
by it: it may be fighting,, or it may be only shellinj the
woods as they advance.  We  judge of its distan(e and
direction by the sound.  Sometimes it seems to come from
the right, sometimes from the left, and sometimes from
both directions at once. It continues, at intervals, through
the day, though growing more distant. As the day wears
on, a messenger comes in from the front, and reports our
304 
r
MRS. CHARLOTTE E. MlcKAY.
friends.  We are relieved to know that they have had no
fighting, yet, and are doing better than we anticipated.  But
now a new cause of anxiety arises; for the weather, which
was fine when they marched out, is changing, and ominous
gusts of wind, and rain-bearing clouds, force themselves on
our observation.  We  try to think we are mistaken, and
look earnestly for patches of blue sky, and gleams of sunshine; but they are not there.  Soon a starless, dismal
night sets in, with drizzling rain. 0, the pitiless storm!
What can our friends do, with no shelter but their blankets,
and no bed but the soft soil under them?  The rain seems
to beat on our naked hearts, and we abandon ourselves to
fearful anxiety; for there is not only the exposure to the
weather, but the danger that, the ground being softened
into mud, their progress will be obstructed, and their plans
defeated, or that the enemy will gain advantage of them.
But all our fears, we know, cannot helpl them; so we strive
to commit them to the care of that Providence which rules
over all, and to hope for the best.
The next morning, going to the hospital, we observe a
new patient, and are pained to see that it is a case of
extreme suffering. The eyes are partly closed, an expression of mortal anguish is on his face, and the symptoms
of dissolution already appear. "Whom have you here,
nurse?"  "He is a man of our division, ma'am, who went
on the march, but fell out by the way, and they sent him
back in an ambulance. He was very bad when he came in,
and has been growing worse ever since."
The next day, the fourth since the march, is clear and
fine. Our friends return without fighting, and we learn
20
305 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
it was only a reconnoissance.  The poor soldier in the
hospital is dead, and we join the little escort that follows
him to his long home, there on the hill-side, along with
many who went before, and whose graves are marked by
simple head-boards, bearing the inscription of their names
and regiments. HIis grave is prepared, and the brown
coffin lowered in.  "I am the resurrection and the life" is
read over it, a prayer is said, a salute fired, and he adds
one more to the buried soldiers with whom the soil of
Virginia is so thickly strewn.  Poor fellow! he  was  a
recruit, andcl this was his first and last march.
110
306 
THE BLOODY FLAG OF FORT PILLOW.
ARK  and damnilng was the act perfornmedl by the
fierce partisan leader of rebels on the 14th of April,
1864. The names of Fort Pillow and Andersonlville stand
out in lurid relief from the stormy background of a great
civil war, and stamp with perpetual infamy the authors of
these great crimes against humanity.
Fort Pillow is a strong fieldwork, erected under the
superintendence of Polk, and afterwards of Beauregard, on
the east bank of the Mississippi River, about fifty miles
above Memphis. It was designed as one of the defences
of the Upper Mississippi Valley, and in the spring of 1862
was virtually evacuated by the rebels, in consequence of
the Union victories at Donelsonl and Shiloh, the effect
of which was to flank all the rebel positions north of the
Memphis and Charleston Railroad, and concentrate all the
forces of that department at Corinth, in front of Grant.
For two years the fort had remained quietly in possession
of the Union forces; but in the winter and spring of 1864
the rebel partisan leader and cavalry general, Forrest, led
a force of some six or seven thousand into West Tennessee.
For some time he had his headquarters at Jackson, recruiting and remounting his force. This was always with him
a favorite ranging ground.  Before the war he had lived
(307)
. 
VWOME~ OF THE WVAR.
at ineml)phis and on the river, following the cognate and
equally infamous branches of business, negro-tradiing, aind
river gambling.  Ile was the last and most revolting specimen of that style of man which is the combined effect of
a roviing border life and of slavcry-a man of powerfuil
frame and iunflinching nlerve, insensible to fatitigue, incapable
alike of fear or of tenderness, an unequalled hlorsemanl, a
fatal shot, a successful speculator, and a lucky gail)ler.
To such a man the opportunity afforded b:)y the outbreak
of the rebellion in 1861i was unlimiited.  A fierce champion
of slavery, a desperado, and a ruffian, war had charms for
him far b)eyocnd the milder horrors of the slave-yatrd andcl
the smaller risks of the gaming-table.  I-e plutnged into
the seething gulf of civil strife with a joy that only the
bold and the depraved can know, and by a series of almost
unbroken successes, rose from  a private to the highest
position which it was possible for a'cavalry oflicer to hold.
The men he had drawn around him were similar to him
in depravity, only not equal in strength and capacity for
command.
Such was the general, and such the force, that, on the
morling of the 14th of April, appeared before Fort Pillow.
Soon after daylight the fight began.  The garrison consisted of not quite six hundred, about two thirds of whom
were negroes, and one half the balance were loyal southerners,  or, as the  rebels  contempltuously called them,
"home-made Yankees."  Major Booth, of the Sixth United
States heavy artillery, was in command.
About nine o'clock in the morning, while at the breastwork aud directing the battle, Major Booth received a ball
308 
THE BLOODY FLAG OF FORT I'LLOWV.
directly through the heart, and fell dead.  There was continluous firing all day, but no charges, and the lnumber of
the garrison who fell was not over twenty.
About three in the afternoon Forrest sent a flag of truce,
by which hostilities were  stispended for near  an hour.
The demand which was sent Wvith the truce wvas for iuncolnditional surrender.  Major Bradford, upon whomi the comnmand hadcl devolved after Ma-jor Booth fell, replied that he
could not surrender unconditionally.  Forrest replied that
he would give him twenty minutes to leave the fort or
surrender.
Meantime the rebel force had been advanced furtively so
as now to surround the works onl three sides; and the linles
awaitilig the order for assault were but a feiw feet from
the parapet when the twenty minutes last givenl by Forrest
expired.
At this moment  three thousand fiqrce ruffians  sprang
forward, and, raising the hideous cry of "No  quarter,"
climbed over the parapet, and rutished upon the garrisoln.
There was no more fighting, properly speaking.  On the
river side there was a steep bluff, that rose directly from
the water,  and  the  whole garrison  rushed down this
hill towards the river, many plunging  into the stream.
Then followed a relentless and indiscriminate butchery
of all ages, both sexes, andl without reference to rank or
color.
The heart sickens, and we turn away in loathing from
the horrid recital. Of the negro troops hardly one escaped.
They were shot down like hogs.  They were stabbed and
beatenl when wounded.  The sabre was often plunged into
309 
WOMIEN OF THE WAR.
the hole made by the pistol ball. Some were piinned to
the ground and burned.  Some were buried alive.
Turn we now from this fearful scene of butchery to
another that followed a few days after, by no means cheerful, but relieved by the play of nobler sentiments, and
by the presence and heroic words of a brave,  though
heart-broken woman.
We enter Fort Pickering, situated on a high bluff, that
for miles commands a view of the mnlighty river that rolls,
broad, turbid, and swift, below.  The ramparts all around
bristle with heavy gullS.  A  regiment of United States
artillery is drawn up in perfect order.  Every face is sober.
A high and firm resolve is burning ill many a dark eye.  Six
paces in firont of the line are stanlding fouieecn stronlg-built,
hardy-looking, brave-hearted men.  They have  no  commander.  What wreck of war is this?  What waif floating
on the stormy ocean of civil strife?  We shall see in a
moment.  A lady, clad in the deepest mourning, steps forward in front of these fourteen survivors.  The silence is
now full of solemnity and deep emotion.   Many a brave
face  shows, by the quivering lip and the moistening eye,
how the sight of that bereaved woman affects them; for she
is the widow of Major Booth, and these fourteen are all
that are left alive of the battalion he commanded at Fort
Pillow.
In her hand she bears a regimental flag, torn with balls,
stained with smoke, and clotted with human blood.  Amid
a silence that is broken only by the hoarse roar of the river
chafing against the banks below, she commences to address
them in a voice low and sometiinmes broken with the heav
310 
THE BLLO()DY FLAG OF FORIT PILLOW.
ings of her mighty sorrow, but whose slightest cadence
reaches their hearts.
"Boys," she says, "I have just come from a visit to the
hospital at Mound City. There I saw your comrades
wounded at the bloody struggle at Fort Pillow.  There I
found this flag,- you recognize it. One of your comrades
saved it from the insulting touch of traitors at Fort Pillow.
I have given to my country all I had to give -my husband.
Such a gift!  Yet I have freely given him for freedom and
my country. Next my husband's cold remains, the dearest
object left me in the world is tais flag-the flag that once
waved in proud defiance over the works of Fort Pillow.
Soldiers, this flag, I give you, knlowing, that you will ever
remember the last words of my noble husband-' Never
surrender the flag to traitors.'"
Colonel Jackson received from her hand the war-worn
and blood-stained flag,.  Ile called upon the regiment to
receive it as such a gift ought to be received.  Then he and
the whole line fell upon their knees, and solemnly appealing
to the God of battles, each one swore to avenge their brave
and fallen comrades, and never, " never to surrender the
flag to traitors."
The scene was one the memory of which can never pass
from before the eyes of those who witnessed it.  It was no
holiday presentation, no crowning of a May-quleen. -There
stood the widow of their former commander, fresh from the
grave of her hero-husband. Above them waved the old
flag, enriched by a thousand memories, and now consecrated by the baptism of blood, while beside the spot where
they stood rolled the grand continental river, whose waters
311 
WOMEN OF THIE WAR.
a few days before had been reddened with the blood of
their comrades.
WVhile that river rolls thus grandly to the far-off ocean
shall the deed of savage bloodshed that was enacted on its
banks be perpetuated in the memory of men, and stamp
infamy upon the name of the ruffianu chief who thus dis
honored our common nature.
312 
"I 
~~L ~ ~~_;~;~ ~!~~i~~~~ J~~~~~;~~ 
MRS. AIARY MORRIS HUSBAND.
T HE  personal history and character of many, of both
sexes, who distinguished themselves during our war,
have proved that loyalty and unselfish patriotism are frequently hereditary. Devotion and loyalty to country are
as often seen transmitted from sire to son as the height of
the figure or the color of the hair. In a great number of
instances the heroes and heroines of the war for the Union
prove to be the direct descendants of those who distinguished themselves by their zeal, their courage, or their
public spirit, in the war of the Revolution.
This remark applies with peculiar force to the person
whose name stands at the head of this sketch. One of the
many hundreds whom she nursed and blessed during her
long career as a hospital matron and nurse, in speaking of
the thorough and unostentatious heartiness of her work,
said the soldiers could account for such unselfishness only
from the fact that she is the granddaughter of RIobert
MIorris, of revolutionary fame.
Many, like Mrs. Husband, have looked upon a noble
lineage as only a circumstance that committed them to
lives of uncommon labor for the public, and constant selfsacrifice, as proving that the blood of which they are
justly proud has not grown ignoble while the republic
(313) 
WOMEN OF THE I~AR.
has been rolling forward in its magnificent career of
development.
In the noble group of patriotic nurses who moved about
on their blessed errands among the great throng of bleeding heroes on the hills of Gettysburg, the granddaughter
of Robert Morris and the granddaughter of President
Dwight worked side by side.
Supplies collected by the descendants of General Philip
Schuyler and of Benjamin Franklin were forwarded at the
same time from different cities. WVhen the little army of
Washington had marked its path over the frozen roads to
its winter quarters by blood from the naked feet of our
revolutionary sires, the gralndmother of  Mrs. Husband
labored untiringly in public for their relief.
Feeling that she was in a manner committed to a life of
patriotic self-sacrifice by the example of her ancestors, and
prompted by the natural kindness of her heart and the
loyalty of her soul, Mrs. iHusband was one of the earliest
to devote herself to the good of the soldier.
In 1861 she was the librarian and a tri-weekly visitor of
the hospital at the corner of Twenty-second and Wood
Streets, in Philadelphia. The character and excellence of
that work are fully described in the memoir of Mrs. Mary
Brady, who at the same time was engaged in a similar work
in the great hospital in West Philadelphia.
In the summer of 1862 our national affairs assumed a
darker phase than ever before, and the demands of a bleeding and endangered country were brought home as earnestly
to the self-sacrificing spirit of women as to the courage and
patriotism of men. About the first of July, Dr. Hiexon
314 
MRS. MARY MORRIS HUSBAND.
was sent oil a hospital transport, from Philadelphia, to
bring away a load of the sick from Harrison's Landing,
and Mrs. Husband went with him. From this time till
the close of the war, and the disbanding, of the regiments,
in June, 1865, - a period of three years, -Mrs. Husband
was constantly in service, and, for a larg,er portion of the
time, laboriously occupied'in a great number of different
hospitals, wvorking very quietly, not for the praise of men,
but for the love of God, and in earnest sympathy with
suffering patriotism.
She made three trips to Harrison's Landing, and labored
in the manner elsewhere fully described in all account of
the hospital transport service.  In the latter part of August
she took temporary charge of the National Hospital at
Baltimore, while the matron, who was sick, was recovering,
and saw its wards filled and overflowing with the groaning
and mutilated results of the second battle of Bull Run, and
the fights of Chantilly and South Mountain.  After two or
three weeks thus spent in scenes of horror and agony,
striving by constant labors to assuage a part of such immense suffering, and to rob the amputationl-room of some
of its terrors, the matron whose place she was filling resunled her former duties, and Mrs. Husband proceeded at
once to Smoketown Hospital, where some of the sufferers
firom the great field of Antietam were collected. Here she
remained two months, and labored, not ill any position
of command or superiority, but doing the very things that
others had left undone, and given over to some utterly
unselfish and truly noble character, like Mrs. Husband.
The actual sufferers,, who were in the. wards, which she
315 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
mostly visited, who felt her soothing presence by their
bedsides, and heard her voice speaking cheer to the desponding, or reading the words of the Saviour to those
who  had only his arm beneath them,  all human skill
having failed them, they can give the most appropriate and
valuable testimonials as to the character and spirit of her
work, and the deep impression it made oon those who were
so fortunate as to enjoy her attentions. The following is
what a Massachusetts soldier says of her: -
'I arrived at the Smoketown General Hospital on the
day the army moved into Virginia under McClellan for the
last time.  The larger part of the hospital was just established, and a great number of the sick of the army were
sent there that day and night.
"When I saw Mrs. Husband for the first time, I was impressed by the very capable manner in which she labored.
All the patients that could speak were loud in her praises,
and those who were too sick to talk looked their gratitude
and appreciation. For weeks and months she labored from
an early hour in the morning till late at night, going from
tent to tent, with always a cheerful word for all, never
losing for a moment that perfect evenness of temper, and
that admirable knowledge of the wants of the sick, with
which only a woman is endowed. It was my good fortune
to witness on her part several acts of heroism, one of which
I will mention.
"A New York soldier, a mere boy, sick with fever, was
discovered also to have diphtheria ill its most malignant
form. Hie was at once removed to a tent, put up for the
purpose, in a distant part of the grove, away from all
316 
MIRS. MARY MORRIS HIUSBAND.
others, and a soldier detailed as nurse, who, however,
fearing the disease, nieglected him.  Knowing this, Mrs.
Husband took charge of the patient, staying every moment
that could be spared from the rest of the sick, for several
days and nights, tenderly caring for him like a saint,
reading to him from the Testament, and taking his dying
message for his mother, that'she must not miourn for
him, for he was willing and ready to die.'
"Hundreds of men, scattered all over the states, will
always remember and  revere  her.   In her labors she
always sought such places as were farthest from ready
help, and where they would be of the most use, never
seeming to care for her own comfort, disregarding the requirements of her ownI health, never leaving her selfimposed duties till sickness and exhaustion drove her
home for rest and quiet, and while so resting, preparing
supplies to be taken to tile army as so' onl as she was again
able to resume her duties."
Another of the Antietam sufferers, who was so fortunate
as to be under MIrs. Husband's care, expresses his admiration and gratitude in the lines transcribed below. What
star or badge, given by a monarch to a subject, what order
of nobility, is so true and rich a testimonial of personal
worth as letters like these!
"I was sick with the typhoid fever in the fall of 1862.
As soon as I could be moved I was taken to the Antietam
Field Hospital, where I met Mrs. Husband. Before I was
taken to the hospital I was insane for a week, so that when
I arrived there I was so completely exhausted, so near my
grave, that I have only an indistinct recollection of much
317 
WOMIEN OF THE WAR.
that transpired. I was under her care for six weeks, when
I was removed to another hospital. I was confined to my
bed nearly all the time I was under her care, so that I had
no opportunity of knowing much personally with regard to
her, outside of my own tent.  As I owe my recovery to
her exertions, I am happy to be able to testify to her nevertiring zeal in the care of the sick and wounded soldiers,
thousands of whom would, I know, gladly acknowledge the
kindness they met while under her  care.   She always
seemed to me to be happy only when engaged in alleviating
the sufferings of tihe soldiers, over whom she watched with
all the tenderness and love of a mother, many of whom
called her by no other name. Her presence always seemed
to bring sunshine even to the most disheartened.  Her face
always wore a smile so sweet that I forgot my pain when in
her presence. She had ever a kind word for every one,
and was always pleased to lend A listening ear and a
sympathizing heart to the thousand and one little troubles
and complaints which the sick man's brain  continually
conjures up. She seenmed to consider the soldiers as her
children, and I know not how a mother could watch over
her own sons with more tender solicitude.   She never
appeared to thillnk of herself- her thoughts all eentred
on the sick or wounded soldier. I have known her, on
many a winter's night, when the storms were raging, to
go around two or three times to the bedsides of those
whose lives seemed hanging by a thread, to watch the
progress of the disease, and see that no sleepy nurse had
neglected to properly care for them. She has told me
many times of sleepless nights she has passed, thinking of
318 
MRS. MARY MORRIS HUSBAND.
some sick one, whom she did not expect would live from
hour to hour. She was only too happy to be of service to
anyone in trouble.  When the army was encamped at Brandy
Station, in the winter of 1863-'64, she was the matron of a
division hospital, and when not elngaged in the care of the
sick, she used to visit the various guard-houses in the corps
(the Third), and interest herself in the cases of those confined there, many of them unjustly, for the soldiers well
know there is but little justice in a military court-martial.
I visited her frequently, and on one of those occasions I
learned the following. She found a soldier sentenced to be
shot. Satisfied, from what she could learn concerning his
case, that he was innocent of the charges brought against
him, she set herself to work to save his life. Failing to
make any impression at brigade, division, and corps headquarters, she, nothing daunted, carried her case to army
headquarters, where she met only with a repulse, even
from the kind-hearted Meade. Not yet discouraged, she
resolved to make one more attempt, determined to save
that young man's life.   She went to Washington, and
finally carried her point.  This is but one instance of many
similar acts; but I cannot recollect the facts of others with
sufficient accuracy to mention them."
The winter of 1862-'63 was to our army what the winter
at Valley Forge was to Washington's army. It was a time of
uncertainty and disaster, of suffering and deep anxiety.  Active operations were kept up by Burnside, though with no
fortunate results, till January. So much exposure and hard
service, and the bloody conflict of Fredericksburg, threw
upon the hands of the nurses a large number of sick and
319 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
wounded. The army lay at Falmouth, on the north side
of the Rappahannock.   Hlere AMrs. Husband  went, and
labored constantly all winter.  She took charge, as matron
or lady superintendent, of the General Hospital of the
Third division in General Sykes's corps.
One very important use of such a person as Mrs. Husband at a field hospital is the moral cheer, the hopefulness
and refinement, that her presence inspires.  After the
patient is able to leave his bed, a long interval occurs
before his health is confirmed so as to render him fit for
the field. During this time he is naturally low in spirits,
unoccupied, and liable to fall a prey to melancholy, and
become permanently demoralized. This is particularly the
case in an army like ours, where every mail thinkls for himself, and the mistake or incompetence of a comnmanding
general is understood and commented onl over every camp
fire, in every hospital, and by evmery soldier, from the
major-general to the drummer boy.  The great demand at
such a time is for wholesome  and suitable amusement.
Mrs. Husband was unusually apt and skilful in meeting
the want.
At all times, and in the whole of her hospital experience,
she was attentive to her convalescents, as well as to the
very sick, and to those who must die.  She fitted up her
tent or her office with books and pictures, so as to make it
cheerful and home-like. She had facilities for innocent
games, writing materials, and amusing books, so that the
soldier forgot about himself and the home for which he
had so constantly longed. In the enjoyment of the hour
he gained strength, and was soon fit to take up his sword
or musket.
320 
3IRS. MARY MORRIS HIIUSBAND.
Spring came at length, and Hooker moved across the
river, while everybody connected with hospitals had enough
to do in taking care of the eight thousand wounded at
Chancellorsville.   This  labor continued  throughout  the
month  of May and for a part of June, and was  very
arduous. Nearly two thousand of our wounded had been
left on the field, in the hands of the enemy, who, having
eight or ten thousand himself to care for, neglected ours.
W~hen these poor fellows were brought in, under a flag of
truce, from the 18th to the 21st of May, the accumulation
of misery and suffering was such as was hardly equalled
during the whole war. Some died in the ambulances.
Others could be seen tearing off the dressing of their
wounds, and holding the mutilated stumps over the side
of the conveyance, to assuage the burning pain by the contact of fresh air.  Mortification and gangrene were common.
But medical and sanitary supplies were quite abundant.
The organization was excellent, and before many weeks the
groves on the hill-sides, above Potomac Creek, began to
look cheerful, to resound with the familiar songs of the
camp, and the talk of cheerful and hopeful convalescents.
Her duties here were principally in the field hospital of the
Third division, Third corps, where she labored with the
constancy, devotion, and kindness which distinguished her
service everywhere.  By the middle of June these Hospitals
were all broken up, and the whole army was in eager pursuit
of Lee, who was now in the full tide of his invasion,
scouring the fields of Pennsylvania, and threatening the
national capital and the border cities. For a few days
MIrs. Husband lingered in the hospitals of Alexandria and.
21
321 
WOMEN OF THE WVAR.
WVashington, awaiting news from the front, where events
were now culminating, daily to the grand national tragedy,
which, on the first days of July, made  Gettysburg one
of the great names in Americanli history, one of the great
names in the annals of the world.
On the 4th she was on the bloody field, and labored constantly till all the field hospitals were broken up, and the
more serious cases were removed to the cities near by, or
to the General Hospital, which was established near the
town, alnd which was in operation till in December, when
the last ambulance of mutilated men started for Pittsburg.
She remained at home for a few weeks after all the worst
cases were made comfortable, but returned to the General
Hospital in response to numerous and urgent letters from
"her boys" who were there, and lolnged for her kindly
presence and cheerful voice.
In the fall of 1863 her attention was aroused by a very
painful and alarming instance occurring in the circle of her
most intimate associates, to the gross and terrible injustice
that may be done by courts martial acting with undue haste,
and having their mandates promptly executed.
From that time till the war ended, Mrs. Husband had no
equal in the noble corps of volunteer army workers in that
peculiar anld difficult line of usefulness.
Of fine presence, accustomed from girlhood tothe quiet,
but polished and impressive manners of the best circles of
Philadelphia, aind with much practical familiarity with the
forms and documents of legal proceeding, she had important advantages in her favor.  Case after case came to
her knowledgeiof youlng men who liad been found guilty
322 
MRS. MARY MORRIS IHUSBAND.
of desertion and sentenced to be shot, under circumstances
that would have made their sentence, if executed, a palpable murder. She undertook these cases, one after another,
going to the various brigade, division, corps, and departmenlt commanders, and, if unsuccessful here, seeking and
gaining an interview with the Secretary of War, and finally,
having the ear of that great, patient, kind-hearted president, who was never too tired, never too busy, and never
too firmly resolved to be unable to give a full and thoughtful hearing to any woman begging him to spare life.
Once, and only once, she was met with a little coldness
on the part of the executive.  In her disinterested zeal,
she had undertaken several cases at the same time, and
having all the proofs and affidavits in file, awaited her turn
to speak with Mr. Lincoln.  She began by mentioning the
first case on her docket. iMr. Lincoln glanced at the package in her hand, and asked if all those Papers were suits for
pardon. She said they were. He replied that it was too
much of a good thing, and denied her a hearing.  But,
changing her tactics, and approaching him differently, she
drew his attention to each case, and in most of them
secured the exercise of his clemency.
IVhenever she went to the army, one of the first places
to which she sought access was the guard-house.  The
condition of many she found there awaiting senltence, or
awaiting, trial, was sometimes  most pitiful.  They had,
perhaps, been arrested months before, when the weather
was hot, and summer clothing appropriate; now they were
shivering on the damp ground, without a fire, and clothed
with perhaps a thin cotton shirt, under a ragged and thread                                              t.,..~ hsst*, s
323 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
bare coat. One poor youth she found thus wretched and
shivering, whom she had known in Philadelphia.  He was
under sentence of death for desertion, and would have been
taken out and shot upon his coffin within a few days, unless
some one had become interested in his case. She at once
sought an interview with the corps commander, and asked
him, before that boy was executed, to talk with him for five
minutes, and see whether he had any clear knowledge of
the duty of a soldier, or what constitutes desertion. The
general did so, and inll three or four questions to the unfortunate youth found him of such mental capacity that
execution would have been a judicial murder, and at once
ordered his release.
By acts like this, repeated again and again during the
three years of her army life, she did much to relieve the
iron severity of martial law, and literally drew upon her
head the blessings of many who were ready to perish.
In the month of December, 1863, about the time of
\Ieade's campaign of MIine Run, Mrs. Husband went down
to Brandy Station, where the principal hospitals were situated, and there labored, with untiring assiduity, until April,
1864, when, by General Grant's order, all females were
removed from the army.  Here she saw a great variety of
service, some of which was exceedingly laborious, and connected with great hardships.
In her correspondence with the Ladies' Aid Society, from
whom she received constant supplies, we find numerous
interesting paragraphs.
February 15, 1864, she writes, "It is very difficult for
me to write; my tent is most uncomfortable. For two
324 
AIRS. MARY MORRIS HUSBAND.
days I could not have a fire in consequence of smoke. This
morning early was very pleasant, but I had not more than
commenced writing, when a wind springs up, my tent fills
with smoke and ashes, and fairly drives me out. Wrind
increases. I venture back, and find my smoke-pipe down,
and smoke unendurable. After vain efforts to keep it ill
place, I remove the fire, open and air the tent, and again
essay to write; but it is a perfect hurricane: tin cups, nutlmeg graters, clothing, and papers are driven about, and the
tent threatens to follow suit; so I forsake it again, and go to
take some tapioca jelly- Which I made, fortunately, when
my fire would burn -to a sick lieutenant, one of General
Carr's staff, who is threatened with diphtheria.  I had intended it for two regimental hospitals, but cannot reach
them to-day."
Again, on February 18, she writes,  All hour since I
was seated comfortably in my tent,, writing you a full
account of visits I have been paying regimental hospitals,
when I heard a cry, and I saw through my tent a bright
light.  I rushed out to behold the adjoining one in flames.
Mine was smoking as the ropes were cut, and it lowered,
trunk, bed, &c., removed, and everything scattered. I
believe that nothing is lost; but my papers, letters, journal,
and memoraila were blowing. about."
A few days later she writes, "I have been much interested in G. B., in the Fourteenth New Jersey Hospital.  My
attention was called to him by the surgeon, who told me
he was sinking rapidly from chronic diarrheea and depression of spirits, in consequence of his arrest for desertion.
He was brought from the guard-house to the hospital. I
I A
325 
WOMEN OF TIlE WvAR.
visited there again last Saturday,  and the surgeon and
chaplain besought me to try for furlough or discharge for
him, as nothing but the hope of reaching home could save
him.  They had been to some of the authorities unsuccessfully, and feared the immediate effect when he should be
told that they could give him  no hope.  I formed my
plans; visited him, and cheered him so much that there
was a visible improvement next morning,, when I walked a
mile and a half to tell him all was going on well, and in
train.  The poor boy's eyes brightened.  Said he,'HLow
can I ever pay you?  IHow can I ever thank you?"'
,larch 3, she writes, "I will give you an account of
to-day's work, and each day is much the same.  Rise at
six o'clock; make my fire; whilst dressing, boil chocolate,
make tea.  My toast for the patients is brought me from
the kitchen; I butter and soften it; poach eggs for some,
and stew potatoes for the rest; arraige on plates, and send
to the wards.  Make milk punch and egg-log, a tapioca
pudding, corn starch, and blalnc-mange; visit each patient,
the surgeon, and kitchen; give directions for beef tea,
soup, &c.; stew tomatoes on my own stove; mash  and
prepare potatoes for dinner.  Afternoon, go to thle station
to market; buy oysters, eggs, and butter; stop at headquarters and see medical director of division about a cow
which was promised us,- hope we may get it; returned
and amlused and entertained a couple of convalescents in my
tent for an hour; then buttered toast, soaked crackers, and
arrangedl the plates to suit the cases, with peaches, jelly,
and corn starch; visited the wards; found R., our most
dangerous case, suffering; heated whiskey,  and applied
11
326 
MRS. MIARY MORRIS IIUSBAND.
flannels, also a bottle of hot water to his feet; wrote a letter
for him to his family, and finish my day's work by writing
to you, stopping now and then to stir fruit which I am
stewing.  Day before yesterday I visited the first division
guard-house. Some new ones have been brought inthirty-two there in all —most of them in want of stockings.  I distributed some, and will see them again in a few
days. How the poor fellows gathered around mle, clad to
receive a few words of sympathy!"
Mlarch 5. "Poor R. is gone to a better world. Hie was
a Christian, and leaves neither wife nor parent to mourn
him."
The heart that prompts such labor as this, day after day,
for months, can have no common interest in the suffering
soldier, and deserves all the aid she could have in her selfdenying work, and all the praise that such large-hearted
charity so abundantly merits.
The order of Grant expelling all females from the army
lines was issued on the 15th of April, and Mrs. Husband
enjoyed a brief visit to her home in Philadelphia.
Two weeks after, Grant advanced across the Rappahannock and the Rapidan, and from the 5th to the 12th of
May had hard fighting every day on some part of his line,
and most of the time what amounted to a general engagement. His force was large, but it suffered fearful losses.
It was during those battles of the Wilderness that John
Sed,gwick, that soldier, true and brave, met his fate, and
somewhere in those gloomy and intricate pine forests, that
the noble old hero and patriot General Wadsworth fell,
and was buried by stranger hands in an unknown grave.
327 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Mrs. Husband was among the first to offer her services in
behalf of the great number of wounded, that made the
war-worn old town of Fredericksburg one great hospital.
As she went forward to labor there, she met the funeral
cortege that was bringing the body of Sedgwick to the rear.
Remaining there till about the first of June, she went
around to the Peninsula, where her army labors began two
years before, and, touching at Port Royal, went on, and
was actively engag,ed in the great hospitals established at
White House and City Point.
At White House she had charge of the low diet for the
whole of the Sixth corps, which had suffered very heavily
in the battle of Cold Harbor. At City Point she was for
some time in charge of the diet of the Second division of
Hancock's corps, and made a visit to the front, to the Third
Corps Hospital, where the boys, who had so many of them
been under her care when sick, gave her a hearty welcome.
At City Point she eventually resumed her old and favorite
line of usefulness, and took wards to visit. At times,
between three and four hundred patients lay, for hour after
hour, on their narrow cots, awaiting, as the one bright event
of each weary day, her arrival at their bedside, in her
regular and blessed round of mercy. She modified her
dress so as to move without inconvenience up the narrow
alleys that divided the rows of cots, and made'ierself a
great apron, with a row of deep pockets, which were
several times each day filled as she made her round.
Almost every patient received some little thing or other
from those deep and roomy receptacles.   For one she had
an apple, for another a newspaper, for another a pair of
328 
MRS. MARY MORRIS HUSBAND.
stockings. At this cot she left a Testament, at the next a
handkerchief, and smiles, pleasant words, and hopefulness
everywhere.
One of the soldiers, who lay very sick, and felt his hopes
rise whenever she approached his cot in her daily rounds,
thus describes her service, and the effect of her visits:   I can never forget her kindness to me. Her untiring
devotion to the sick and wounded soldier won the hearts of
all. She was indeed a mother to us. Night and day she
was always at her post, ever ready to relieve the sufferings
of our brave boys.
"I have no doubt she saved the lives of many by her
skill in dressing wounds, and her unceasing attention. No
wife or mother could have been more devoted. The daily
visit of that good woman to our tent was the one pleasant
feature of my hospital life. She was always cheerful, and
had a kind word for us all. Few women sacrificed so much
for the good cause as Mrs. Husband did in leaving her
family and home, and undergoing all the hardships of a
camp life."
This life in the hospitals was continued till May, 1865,
when, Richmond having been evacuated, and Lee captured,
,the hospitals grew thin, and began to be dismantled, and
the heroines as well as the heroes of the war could receive
honorable discharges.
In the early part of May, as the army came through
Richmond, on its way to Washington and home,  Mrs.
Husband went up from City Point with a quantity of
supplies which had been sent to hospitals, but which fortunately were no longer needed there. Stopping at Man
329 
W0OMEN OF THE WAR.
chester, on the opposite side of the river from PRichmond,
she bad the pleasure of distributing, with her own hands,
the bounties which a generous people had sent her, to
the foot-sore, weary, and voracious boys of Hancock's
corps.
On the 6th, in Richmond, she had the supreme satisfaction of seeing almost the whole army, with whom she had
labored so constantly from  its  organization, march  in
triumph through the rebel capital.
Nor was she an obscure witness of the grand pageant.
The soldiers of the Second, Third, and Sixth army corps
were almost as familiar with her faice and figure as they
were with IHancock or Sickles, or Meade himself. As the
regiments passed the window where she stood, the boys
would pass the word down the line, "There's Mother Husband!"  And cheer after cheer, and shout after shout,
ascended from the ranks of stalwart and brawny fellows,
beside whose hospital cots her form had so often stood.
It was an ovation in which she might justly feel a genuine
and honest pride.
That popularity was not the reflection of another's fame.
It was an outburst of unfeigned gratitude and real admiration, which so many of them had long, felt for a noble and
accomplished woman, whose patriotism and humanity alone
had impelled her, for year after year, to follow up the march
of our armies, on her ministry of love; to devote herself
to the welfare of suffering patriots with as much tenderness
as though they had been in fact all her boys; to know
nothing of home and its sacred comforts as long as one
lonely or desponding soldier was languishing in a hospital
ward.
330 
MRS. MARY MORRIS HUSBAND.
Touched with this involuntary tribute, and full of generous admiration for those who had suffered so much and
accomplished so much, she was determined that they should
not disperse and be disbanded without having had, in
health and in victory, some taste of luxuries which had
been long richly deserved.  Going home to Philadelphia,
she sent word to her friends, - those same friends who had
kept a cornucopia of comforts for soldiers at her side all
through the war,- and she soon had abundant supplies of
all kinds prepared. Mrs. Husband took them to Washington, and found her soldier boys at Bailey's Cross-Roads.
Six successive days she took an ambulance, loaded with
bounties and comforts of every sort, over to the encampment, and gave them out to the returning heroes.  These
closing acts of rejoicing, and of generous appreciation,
consumed the greater part of the month of May, and were
the last that she could do for soldiers in the field.
The wvarm personal relations that grew up between the
soldiers and their benefactress, and the frequency with
which her acts and virtues were mentioned over the camp
fires of the army of the Potomac, have caused her to be
extensively known and honored as the soldier's friend.
HIer cabinet abounds in trophies, rings, bullets, shells,
guns, swords, pistols, mementos, pictures, photographs,
and keepsakes, presented by her grateful armypatients;
and now, if any of the boys in blue fall sick, or in any
way become helpless or distressed in the city of her home,
she is at once thought of and referred to. No case of real
merit and genuine distress ever comes to her in vain.
Judicious, as well as generous, her friends rely upon her
331 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
opinion, and when she says, " Give," a hundred purses are
opened.
But, above all, she has the supreme and all-sufficient
approval of her own spirit; the rich memories of those
years crowded with great events in which she took a part;
great battles which she witnessed, and great crowds of
suffering men to whom she brought relief and comfort,
when she was the almoner of the generous gifts of the
large circle of home workers, who ever followed her with
their prayers and their sympathies; when she constantly
delighted in relieving the wants of her fellow-creatures,
and cultivated that divine pleasure by the most liberal and
unpretending methods, and daily thanked her Creator for
being permitted to do good.
332 
MRS. E. E. GEORGE.
W    "ILE  there were none of the loyal states that did
not furnish nurses and heroines who displayed an
enthusiasm as genuine as any of the volunteers, and a
devotion as deep as any who fell in battle, some were conspicuous, and deserve honorable mention in history, for the
thoroughness and energy with which all their sanitary
enterprises were conducted.
In the East, Maine seems to have done more for her
soldiers than any other state. There was in Portland a
regular and well-conducted organizatiton of army nurses, to
which those ladies made application who desired to make
themselves useful in the hospitals. In the WVest, Indiana
seems to have been the most active, the most systematic
and profuse, in her labors for the comfort and health of the
volunteers.  The Military Agency at Indianapolis, among
its various duties, assumed the general direction of the
-volunteer lady nurses who went out from that state. By
an active correspondence with various medical directors,
and with the general agents of the Sanitary and Christian
Commissions, the Agency was constantly informed in regard
to the positions of great destitution, where the largest
number of suffering soldiers were assembled, where the
wounded of a bloody battle were principally concentrated,
(.K3) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
and at what point a particular nurse or corps of Christian
women could be of the most effective service. During the
last three years of the war this Military Agency sent out
from Indianapolis two hundred and fifty ladies as nurses.
They were in all parts of the field, and ministered to the
sufferers in every great battle from Fort Donelson to the
Five Forks. They were at Memphis, at Helena, at Young,'s
Point, at Vicksburg, and at New Orleans. They went with
Rosecrans through Tennessee, and with Sherman through
Georgia. They dressed wounds that were received in the
charge over the rugged heights of Lookout Mountain, they
nursed patients that were languishing with mnalarious fever
caught in the Yazoo Swamp, they bound bleeding limbs at
Gettysburg, and after all the battles of the war were fought,
they received the skeleton wrecks of the armies that came
out alive from Salisbury and Andersonville, and endeavored
to restore life and cheerfulness to eyes that had so long
been familiar with famine and death in their most hideous
aspects.
Some account of one of the most earnest and laborious
of these Sisters of Charity, one who engaged in the service
from the purest motives, and sealed her loyal zeal by death
at the post of duty, may serve as a type of the heroism and
sacrifices of all.
Some time in January, 1863, Mr. Hllaniiaman, the general military agent for the State of Indiana, received a note
from correspondents at Fort Wayne, recomnmending Mrs.
E. E. George, of their city, as a lady well qualified to serve
as hospital nurse.  A few dways after, Mrs. George addressed
him in person, and tendered her services. He could not at
334 
MRS. E. E. GEORGE.
that moment assign her to a field of labor, and she went
to Chicago, hoping to find her services required by the
Sanitary Commission.  While there, Mr.  Hannaman received advices from Memphis, stating that a great demand
had suddenly arisen there for attentions to the wounded at
the first assault on the northern defences of Vicksburg.
They had been brought to Memphis on hospital transports,
and a large number of nurses could find immediate employmenit among them.  He telegraphed at once to Mrs. George,
and she presented herself at the sanitary roomns. Her age
seemed against her, for she had reached that period of life
which suggests the quiet of the fireside and the comforts of
home, rather than a rude, changeful, and wearing succession
of exhausting toils and midnight vigils.  This objection
was suggested to her.  "True," she replied, "I am old;
but my health is good, and I am very desirous to do something for those who are every day exposing their lives for
our country.  If unable to go through as much as some, I
will engage never to be at all troublesome or in the way."
The mainspring of her zeal was as much Christian devotion
as patriotic sacrifice.  To do good was the law of her life.
To assuage suffering was her greatest pleasure.
W5ith other ladies she arrived in Memphis early in the
spring of 1863, and commenced her work.  The physicians,
who know how much depends upon nursing, and bow useless are all drugs without skill and judgment at the bedside,
soon saw the value of Mrs. George, and she had full permission to visit every ward of all the hospitals in ]Memphis.
Governor Morton, of Indiana, also  sent  her a special
commission to inquire for and dispense to all the sick and
335 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
wounded of the Indiana regiments. With these credentials her means of sanitary usefulness were greatly increased.
Her excellent practical sense, and the Christian meekness
of her character, made her a suitable person to be invested
with unusual authority, while her age and the elevation of
her motives won involuntary respect and admiration from
all with whom she was connected.  During the spring and
summer of 1863 her labors in the Memphis hospitals were
unceasing.  Early in the fall of that year she gave herself
a short respite, visiting her friends in Fort Wayne, and in
October she returned to Memphis, soon after proceeding to
Corinth. She made frequent trips between those places,
with various hospital supplies and sanitary comforts for
the men; and although the cars were often fired into by
guerrillas and squads of Confederate cavalry, she acted as
though fear of death, while in the line of duty, was a
passion that had no place in her calm and well-regulated
mind.
When General Sherman's army left Corinth, and moved
up the Tennessee to ree6nforce Grant at Chattanlooga, MArs.
George returned to Memphis, and went around to Nashville. Thence she went southward to Pulaski, where she
assisted in opening a hospital.  There was  no mode of
reaching, this place by railroad, as the cars were not running,
south of Columbia.   The intervening distance- of forty
miles she travelled in a rough army wagon. At Pulaski
she remained several months, and during the time made
several trips to Indiana, where she collected hospital
supplies, and took them forward to Pulaski. The stores
intrusted to her hands were always carefully guarded, and
336 
MRS. E. E. GEORGIE.
distributed with fidelity and discretion. When the spring
campaign of 1864 opened by the advance of Sherman from
Chattanooga into the heart of Georgia, Mrs. George, with
several other ladies, accompanied the army.  She and they
shared in the dangers, the hardships, and the glory of that
ever-memorable campaign.  There were few, if any, general
hospitals south of Chattanllooga, and at Kingston, Resaca,
Kenesaw Mountain, and the other battles of that summer,
she labored in the field -sometimes at the front, often all
night as well as all day, after the battles, binding up
wounds, and giving water to cool inflammnlations and allay
thirst.  Labors of this sort were sometimes continued till
the powers of endurance were quite exhausted, and she
wrapped an army blanket around her, and fell asleep under
a tree or a wagon, to be awakened in a few hours by the
moans of the wounded, and to resume her labors till nature
was again overcome.  Upon the investment of Atlanta,
MIrs. George became connected with the Fifteenth Armly
Corps Hospital. W;hen this corps marched to Jonesboro
she had an ambulance assigned her, and, at the earnest
request of the men, went with them.  Durilng the battle of
Jonesboro, she was dressing the wounded in a tent so near
the front as to be in range of the enemy's guns.  A shell
from one of their batteries pierced the tent, and, exploding
within a few feet of where she was standing, killed two
wounded men.  When asked if the circumstance did not
somewhat alarmn her, she replied, "No, I was not alarmed,
for I looked upon it as simply the intention of Providence
to test my courage."
In the fall of 1864, when General Sherman's army re              22
337 
WOMEN OF'TTHIE WAR.
turned from Jonesboro to Atlanta, Mrs. George went
home for a brief period of rest. Returning shortly after
to Nashville, she found that Sherman's aimy had taken up
their march directly for Savannah, and as all communications with his rear were impossible, she. was unable to
rejoin the Fifteenth corps. The winter of 1864 and 1865
was therefore passed at Nashville. During the siege of
that city by Hood; and the subsequent battle, by which the
enemy was driven across the Tennessee River, Mrs. George
and two other ladies opened a hospital, and were very useful and unwearied in their attentions to the wounded.  As
soon as she ascertained that Sherman's army had reached
Savannah, she reported to the state agent of Indiana at
Indianapolis, and prepared to rejoin the corps to which she
had attached herself. While passing a few days at Fort
Wayne, she learned that some of the agents of the Indiana
Sanitary Commission were about to leave New York for
Savannah, and went immediately to that city, with a view
of joining them. By some oversight, transportation and
a pass were not provided, and the agents sailed without
her. She was then compelled to go to Washington, to
procure the necessary pass; and while waiting for her
papers to be made out at the war department, she called on
Miss Dix, who urged her to go to Wilmington, North Carolina, which had just passed into possessipn of the Unlion
force, and where there was a large amount of suffering.
Fearing that with Miss Dix her character as a representative of Indiana would be lost, she hesitated, and would not
go except upon the condition that she should devote herself especially to such Indiana volunteers as she migrht
338 
MRS. E. E. GEORGE.
find at Wilmington.  Miss Dix assented.  Hardly had the
noble woman arrived at Wilmington before there reached
that point eleven thousand Union prisoners, who had just
been released from the stockade at Salisbury. Their con  dition was in the last degree pitiable and wretched. Two
thousand of them had not a whole garment upon  their
bodies; two hundred had lost their feet by frost. To these
sufferers, and with very inadequate hospital supplies, Mrs.
George devoted herself, day and night, in labors to relieve,
as far as possible, the most acute and pressing of their
wants.
Here it was that this excellent lady finished her toils, and
crowned her long and active career of beneficence by
deliberate self-martyrdom. She literally worked herself
to death. By day she was constantly occupied in super intending the manufacture of clothing for the naked; at
night she went into the hospitals, ahd, depriving herself
of sleep, passed many of the hours of darkness in nursing the greatest sufferers. Exertions such as these could
not, from the nature of things, last long. For more than
two years, she had taken only brief periods of rest: she
was advanced in years, and the peculiar form of typhoid
fever which attacked the released prisoners for whom she
so heroically labored, was in a high degree contagious.
Suddenly her system gave way, and she was pronounced
severely ill with typhoid fever.  As soon as this was known
to the Indiana Sanitary Commission, who had always
regarded her as one of the most faithful and efficient of
their representatives in the field, they sent Dr. William H.
Wishard to her relief. When he arrived she appeared
339 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
considerably better, and expressed herself as though
she might be permitted to reach home, and see the faces
of her daughters once more. All the preparations were
made for her removal.   As she felt a little faint, Dr.
Wishard ordered a stimulating drink, and went out into
the city, to attend to some final business before starting.
Upon his return, what was his astonishment to find his
patient a corpse! The grasp of the disease had been deeper
than he supposed, and after the fatigue and excitement of
preparing to return home, she sank into a relapse which
nothing could arrest, and passed directly from the scene
of her last and greatest labors to the immediate fruition
of her abundant and heavenly reward.
340 
ANNA MARIA ROSS.
N    war was ever so sustained by the persistent devo      tion and zeal of the home population as was the great
civil contest from which we have just emerged. Aside
from the regular and enormous expenditures of government, nearly eighty millions of money were raised and expended by the loyal citizens in providing for the soldier,
and the widows and orphans of those who perished in the
strife. The great cities near the border vied with each
other in the effort to do most for the columns of warworn soldiers, who, from time to' time, filed through
their streets, or were hurried forward to the field. Philadelphia, situated as it is in the direct line of travel, - a
point through which nearly every man who at any time
belonged to the army of the Potomac must pass,- was
noted throughout the war for the devotion of its citizens,
and especially of its ladies, to the comfort and welfare of
the soldier.
Several of its wives and mothers gave up the c6mfort of
happy homes, and, while the war raged, applied themselves,
with a constancy and a spirit of self-sacrifice that were never
surpassed, for the relief of those who were suffering in the
camp or languishing in the hospital. Among the home
laborers, no daughter of that City of Brotherly Love was
(341) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
more abundant in her works, or more earnest and untiring
in her zeal, than she whose name is written above.
The Cooper's Shop Saloon, inaugurated mainly by her
exertions, and in a large measure sustained by her untiring
labors, became at once her grave and her monument. The
devotedness and the love she there manifested were witnessed and will be remembered by thousands who will
never know the benefactress to whom they were indebted
till they meet her on the shining shore.  And she passed
directly from these toils and anxieties, when the hoarse
voices of the war were loudest and most threatening, to the
crown of the just, to the kingdom of perpetual rest.
The blessed destiny of this saintly woman can be spoken
of with great certainty, for the life of beneficence in the
midst of which her days were cut short did not begin with
the demands of our civil war. By fifty years of active
usefulness, by the example and the blood of noble ancestors, some of whom had mnoulded bullets for the army of
Washington, and fought under the eye of that great chieftain, her character had been confirmed in excellence long
before the sullen roar from Charleston harbor went jarring
across the continent.
In a city famous for its public and its private charities, in
a community originally made up of philanthropists, she had
long been most favorably and widely known foil the rare
kindness of her heart, the activity of her sympathies, and
her Christ-like consecration to good works.
When the war assumed its colossal proportions, and
brought its demands to the door of every cottage in the
land, the good ladies of Philadelphia, under the lead and
342 
ANNA MARIA ROSS.
inspiring, example of Miss Ross, determined to do all in
their power for the soldiers who were temporarily brought
within  their  reach.   By  their exertions  the  Cooper's
Shop Saloon was  opened  and  sustained   a plain  but
spacious building, where every soldier that passed through
the city was welcome, where he would find prepared for
him an abundance of wholesome food, and where, if sick
or exhausted, he could remain and receive medical advice,
nursing, and necessary articles of clothiing, all the free gift
of the citizens of Philadelphia.  As early as November,
1861, there is recorded a vote of thanks from the Cooper
Shop committee to Miss Ross and her lady friends for the
able and effective manner in which they had fitted up the
new hospital attached to the eating saloon, and for their
indefatigable  exertions  in providing  all the necessary
comforts for sick and wounded soldiers.
From that time, for two years, when the curtain of
death fell upon her career of phil'anthropie devotion, she
shrank from no toil, avoided no exposure, withheld neither
time, nor money, nor life itself, from the cause in which she
had enlisted.  Yet the work grew upon her hands, and its
demands increased, rather than diminished, as the war
deepened.  As McClellan's campaign progressed to its disastrouts close; as Pope fell back to Washington, and the
Union force again advanced, and met the flushed enemy on
the hills of Antietam; as Fredericksburg, anid Chancel lorsville, and Gettysburg followed, with their great host
of wounded,- the hospital of the Cooper's Shop Saloon
was kept constantly full of soldiers, who had come, on
their way home, or to general hospitals in the North, and
343 
WOMEN OF -ITHE WAR.
were obliged to remain, sometimes to gather strength
for the remainder of their journey, sometimes on one of
these well-kept hospital cots to receive final discharge from
all earthly service.
In this hospital, with its various demands, Miss Ross
worked from the hour of its establishment, till those hands
that labored so faithfully, and were willing to do so much
more, were stiffened- by the frosts of death.
In the summer and fall of 1863 these labors were uncommonly severe and  earnest.   It was  as though her
self-forgetting heart had received some premonition of the
change that awaited her; as though some voice in her dreams
had uttered those words of solemn incitement, "What thou
doest do quickly." The sick and wounded in the hospital
demanded her care.  Tenderly and wakefully, while others
sleep, she passes from couch to couch, soothing the feverish
fancy, moistening the fever-cracked lips, giving medicine
here and cordial there. At the same time, a great fair is
in progress, and the substantial and permanent interests of
the hospital and the soldier can be secured as effectually by
labor there as among the sufferers. And thus she takes
upon herself double duty, and burns the candle at each end.
She canvasses through the city, pleading the soldiers'
cause from street to street, and from door to door. Then
her exertions take a wider range, and she travels through
many of the cities and towns of Pennsylvania on the same
noble errand. Restless and anxious, regardless of fatigue
and nervous exhaustion, forgetting herself, and imbued
with the one high aim of accomplishing a great and a
noble work for the soldier, she makes deep inroads on the
344 
ANNA MARIA ROSS.
fund of her own life, and almost literally "coins her very
blood," that the pecuniary returns of the fair may be
abundant.
Private sorrows, at the same time, make their demands upon the large sympathies of her heart. She
watches the dying hours of an aged and saintly clergyman, and after his death remains to condole with the
bereaved family. The fair, in the mean time, is held, and
the returns are large, equal to her fondest hopes; and the
Soldier's Home," the object to which these labors had
been aimed, is accomplished.
But her disposition was that which the old historian
applies to the nation of the Greeks -she thought nothing
accomplished so long as anything remained undone.  The
pleasing task of furnishing and fitting up the Home is now
hers, and abundant funds are at her disposal. In making
these purchases, and effecting the necessary arrangements,
she continued her labors one night. till past twelve o'clock,
retiring cold and benumbed, and thoroughly exhausted by a
succession of great exertions. She thought rest would restore her; but in the morning the numbness is colder and
more alarming. Medical skill is summoned, and the practised eye and hand soon pronounce the case hopeless....
In the month of December, 1863, on the very day that her
pure spirit was released from its toil-worn frame, the
Home, for which she had lived, and for which she had
also died, was dedicated, and entered upon its mission of
blessing, and restoration, and cheer to the soldier.
The memory of one who was so truly noble, alike in her
life and in her death, was justly honored. The funeral
345 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
train was immense; the eulogies were eloquent; yet none
could say too much of such a life and such a work. Resolutions were passed by the committees of the Saloon and
the Home, that had been the principal theatre of her
sacrifices and benevolence.
The incitement of so rich an example was not lost.
Others arose and labored in the same cause, with a devotion only less entire than that which had cost her life.  The
Saloon and the Home continued to flourish and bless
thousands upon thousands of weary and war-sick men,
for months andcl years after her hands were moulderilng in
the long rest of the grave.
As truly as the hero who fell, pierced with his death shot
just as his regimental flag was carried by the storming
column over the battlements of the routed foe, so she, as
true a heroine as any, fell at her post, in the heat and
depth of the conflict, just before the blessed dawnlight and
the joyful shouts of victory.
346  
~
;;;;;;;;~i;~,~;>  ~;    <~m Km ~
~LY>~Km~~s 
MPiS. A. H. HOGE.
S among the men who enlisted in the war there was
every grade of natural ability, so with the women,
who in their way enlisted also as hospital nurses and salitary laborers, every rank in life, and all stations in society,
sent their representatives into the field.
There  were  many  rude  and  uncultivated, yet kindhearted and pure-minded camp followers, like Bridget
Divers, who took naturally to the rough life of the soldier,
and followed the men in camp and on the march, with
a saddle or an ambulance cushion fot a pillow, and no
covering from the dews of heaven but a brown army
blanket.
Others became hospital nurses, and, for month  after
month, and year following year, could be found bending
over the same  cots, though  their occupants constantly
changed,  wiping  clammy  foreheads,  soothing  feverish
fancies, moistening parched lips, writing messages of love
and hope to distant homes,  singing hymns of Christian
cheer, and closing the lids over glazing eyes.
Others, again, there were, - and that number is not large,
- who brought to the altar of their country rare gifts, splendid social powers, the fascination of a noble or a winning
presence, and all the qualities that combine to make a
(347) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
woman widely known, profoundly respected, and deeply
loved.
Of the great number of persons who saw Mrs. Hoge, of
Chicago, and heard her pleading the cause of the suffering
volunteer, before so many gatherings of her own sex, who
met her in her long and frequent journeyings, the soldiers
who saw her in hospital wards, or in the trenches before
Vicksburg, and especially those who saw those generous,
unwearied, multiform, and most successful labors at the
great Sanitary Fair of Chicago, there are none who would
not assign her a high position among the queens of American
society. And those of her own sex, who saw her moving
thus brilliantly in that noble career of public usefulness,
would be the first to apply to her that culmninating eulogy
of Solomon, "Many daughters have done virtuously, but
thou excellest them all."
The native city of Mrs. Hoge is Philadelphia.  Whether
anything is due to the spirit of William Penn, and the mild
flavor of peace on earth and good will to men which has
ever breathed from the religion of the Quakers, need not
here be discussed. Certain it is that many of those of the
gentler sex who, in our great war, have distinguished themselves by the consecration of the finest social genius to the
most extensive philanthropic labors, came from the City of
Brotherly Love.
After her marriage, Mrs. Hioge, whose family name was
Blackie, removed with her husband to Pittsburg, and not
long after, in 1848, to Chicago, a city which then hardly
numbered twenty-five thousand inhabitants. Living thus
in the most vigorous and enterprising community on the
348 
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
continent, in a city that doubles its population once in four
years, and seeing the vast regions of the north-west, for
which Chicago is the commercial emporium, expanding with
imperial strides under the system of free labor, and beneath
the common flag and the matchless constitution, it was not
strange that she became, in a manner, inspired by the irresistible flood of enthusiasm which swept over that community, when it became an assured fact that eleven great states
had inaugurated a civil war, in violation of the constitution, in derision of the flag, and to make human bondage
perpetual in the nation. Her first act was freely and
promptly to give up her sons to the service. One of these
boys began in the ranks, and commanded a company
when the war closed. The other rose from captain to the
rank of brevet brigadier-general.
While the conviction was general that the war would not
be protracted, Mrs. Hioge remained -in Chicago, and occupied herself in the usual and happy routine of home duties,
and in sewing for the soldiers.   But in the winter and
spring of 1862, it became apparent to most thinking persons that the American States were committed to a long
and deadly struggle, whose duration and whose stages no
mortal could anticipate, and whose issue could be known
no flirther than that the right must eventually prevail.
At this period of the conflict, Mrs. HIoge assumed, as it
were, a new character, and commenced a life wholly in contrast with the domestic seclusion in which her days had
hitherto passed.  In company with her friend and colaborer, Mrs. Livermore, she entered upon a series of
patriotic and philanthropic labors, on a plan commensurate
349 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
with the vastness of the scale on which the war began to be
conducted, and with an earnestness and zeal not unworthy
the priceless interests which it involved.
Their operations were in. connection with the Chicago
branch of the United States Sanitary Commission. They
had worked with this organization from its inception in that
city, and now, in January, 1862, these two ladies took upon
themselves the herculean enterprise of keeping the shelves
and the treasury of the Commission filled, notwithstanding
the constant and enormous demands made upon it by over
two hundred thousand soldiers in active service.
Without asserting that the liberality of the people might
not have been developed through other agencies, the brilliant success of these admirable women appears in the fact,
that with their labors the funds increased from eighteen
thousand dollars to more than two hundred and fifty
thousand dollars, and the boxes of sanitary and hospital
supplies from five thousand to fifty thousand, during the
two years and a half that war raged west of the Alleghanies.
Their plan was to go from city to city, and from town to
town, throughout the North-west, and assemble the ladies of
each community. Mrs. Hoge often read them a narrative
of the experience she had enjoyed among, the soldiers, and
aided in the formation of a Soldier's Aid Sooiety. In
many, and, towards the close of the war, in all the places
they visited, some organization of the kind was in existence. Hiere their object was to stimulate to fresh industry
and incite to larger generosity.
These travels and organizing labors in the loyal towns
350 
MRS. A. HI. HOGE.
and cities were interrupted by a number of visits made by
Mrs. Hoge to the front, where she remained many days,
and sometimes weeks, at a time, dispensing, with her own
hands, the supplies that she had collected from the home
communities. So numerous were these trips, and so incessant were her hospital labors when at the front, that during
the war she stood at the bedside of more thani a hundred
thousand sick or wounded patriot soldiers.
To Mrs. Hioge also belongs the honor of originating, and
carrying through to a brilliant success, the first great Sanitary Fair at Chicago. In the spring of the cardinal year
of the war, the year that saw the Mississippi running, free
within Union lines from Lake Itasca to the sea, Mrs. I Hoge,
and those associated with her in Chicago, commenced their
operations on a larger plan than anything before attempted
in the country. A few hundreds, or three or four thousands,
of dollars had been the utmost that had been realized by
any previous enterprise for the soldier.  It was now proposed to inaugurate a scheme of charity on a national scale,
aiming at large financial results. By it Mrs. Hoge proposed to add at least twenty-five thousand dollars to the
treasury of the Sanitary Commission.
Her travels and lectures had made her the most widely
known of any lady in Chicago among all those communities
that look to that city as their emporium.  Circulars were
issued, and vice-presidents appointed in a great number of
towns, extending westward across Wisconsin to the city
of Iowa, and northward to St. Paul, and the vigorous
and deeply loyal communities of the Upper Mississippi
Valley.
351 
WOMEN OF THE wAR.
There were not wanting those who pronounced the plan
chimerical, and predicted its failure; but the result showed
how much more correctly Mrs. Hioge and her associates
had estimated the strength of the general sympathy with
the suffering soldier.  The sum originally proposed sinks
almost into insignificance when compared with the splendid
result, and is well nigh lost when contrasted with the millions that were afterwards poured into the same treasury
from those similar enterprises that took their rise and found
their model in the Chicago Fair.*
It had proposed twenlty-five thousand dollars. It realized
eighty thousand. From other fairs, held in other cities,
after the plan of this at Chicago, not less than ten million
dollars were contributed towards the sanitary well-being of
the Union armies.
After this noble enterprise had been carried to success so
triumphant, MIrs. Hoge resumed her visits to the hospitals.
She also visited various other cities as an experienced
adviser in all matters connected with sanitary labor. Several times, in eastern cities, she recounted her experience
among the soldiers, with the happiest effects in the communities where the influence of her example and of her
eloquence were alike made to bear upon the cause.
In the spring of 1865, just before the war was ended,
she read an address at a meeting of ladies held at Packer
Institute, in Brooklyn, which was greatly admired, and
immediately published by the Sanitary Commission, as one
* For a sketch of the fair, and an account of its plan, management, and
success, see North American Review, January, 1864; also the History of the
Philadelphia Sanitary Fair.
352 
MRS. A. IH. HOGE.
of its regular documents. As a narrative of sanitary labor
and experience in hospitals and at the front, nothing could
be more interesting or satisfactory. It is a graphic and
touching compendium of the field labors of Mrs. Hoge,
from the commencement of active hostilities in the West,
till the surrender of Vicksburg.  After this time she was
chiefly absorbed in home labors, in connection with the
Chicago and other great sanitary fairs.
"The first great hospital I visited," said Mrs. Hioge to
the Brooklyn ladies, "was Mound City, twelve miles from
Cairo. It contained twelve hundred beds, furnished with
dainty sheets and pillows, and shirts from the Sanitary
Commission, and ornamented with boughs of fresh apple
blossoms, placed there by tender female nurses, to refresh
the languid frames of their mangled inmates.  As I took
my slow and solemn walk through this congregation of
suffering humanity, I was arrested by the bright blue eyes,
and pale, but dimpled cheeks, of a boy of nineteen summers. I perceived he was bandaged like a mummy, and
could not move a limb; yet still he smiled. The nurse
who accompanied me said,'We call this boy our miracle.
Five weeks ago, he was shot down at Donelson; both legs
and arms where shattered. To-day, with great care, he
has been turned for the first time; and never a murmur has
escaped his lips, but grateful words and pleasant looks have
cheered us.' Said I to the smiling boy,- some absent
mother's pride, -' How long, did you lie on the field after
being shot?''From Saturday morning till Sunday evening,' he replied;'and then I was chopped out, for I had
frozen feet.'' How did it happen that you were left so
23
353 
WOMEN OF THE WVAR.
long?''Why, you see,' said he,'they couldn't stop to
bother with us, because they had to take the fort.''But,'
said I,'did you not feel'twas cruel to leave you to suffer
so long?''Of course not! How  could they help it?
T/tey had to take tlhe fort; and when they did, we forgot
our sufferings, and all over the battle-field went up cheers
from the wounded, even from the dying.  Men that had
but one arm raised that, and voices so weak, that they
sounded like children's, helped to swell the sound.''Did
you suffer much?' His brow contracted as he said,'I
don't like to think of that; but never mindl; the doctor tells
me I won't lose an arm or a leg, and I'm going back to
have another chance at them. There's one thing I can't
forget, though,' said he, as his sunny brow grew dark;
'Jem and I- nodding at the boy in the adjoining cotlived on our fathers' neighboring farms inl Illinois; we stood
beside each other, and fell together. As he knows, we saw
fearful sights that day. We saw poor, wounded boys
stripped of their clothing. They cut ours off, when every
movement was torture.   When some resisted, they were
pinned to the earth with bayonets, and left writhing like
worms, to die by inches. I can't forgive the devils for
that.''I fear you've got more than you bargained for.'
'Not a bit of it; we went in for better or worse, and if we
got worse, we must not complain.' Thus talked the beardless boy, nine months only from his mother's wing.  As I
spoke, a moan - a rare sound in a hospital - fell on my
ear. I turned, and saw a French boy, quivering with agony,
and crying for help. Alas! he had been wounded, driven
several miles in an ambulance with his feet projecting, had
354 
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
them frightfully frozen, and the surgeon had just decided
that the discolored, useless members must be amputated,
and the poor boy was begging for the operation.  Beside
him lay a stalwart man, with a fine face, the fresh blood
staining his bandages, his dark, damp hair clustering round
his marble forehead. He extended his hand feebly, and
essayed to speak, as I bent over him, but speech had failed
him.  He was just brought in from a gunboat, where he
had been struck by a piece of shell, and was slipping
silently, but surely, into eternity.
"Two days afterwards I visited Jefferson Barracks Hospital.  In passing through the wards, I noticed a woman
seated beside the cot of a youth apparently dying. He
was insensible to all around; she seemed no less so. Her
face was bronzed, and deeply lined with-care and suffering.
Her eyes were bent on the ground, her arms folded, her
features rigid as marble. I stood beside her, but she did
not notice me.  I laid my hand upon her shoulder, but she
heeded me not.  I said,  Is this young man a relative of
yours?'  No answer came.' Can't I help you?'  VWTith a
sudden impulse, that electrified me, her dry eyes almost
starting from the sockets, and her voice husky with agony,
she said, pointing her attenuated finger at the senseless boy,
'He is the last of seven solns:  six have died in the army,
and the doctor says he must die to-night.' The -flash of
life passed from her face as suddenly as it came; her arms
folded over her breast; she sank in her chair, and became,
as before, the rigid impersonation of agony.
"As I passed through another hospital ward, I noticed a
man whose dejected figure said plainly, I he had turned his
355 
0
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
face to the wall to die.' His limb had been amputated, and
he had just been told his doom. Human nature rebelled.
He cried out,'I am  willing to die, if I could but see my
wife and children once more.' In the silence that followed
this burst of agony, the low voice of a noble woman, who
gave her time and abundant means to the sick and wounded
soldiers, was heard in prayer for him. The divine influence
overcame his struggling heart, and as she concluded, he
said,'Thy will, O  God, be done!'Tis a privilege, even
thus, to die for one's country.' Before the midnight hour
he was at rest. The vacant bed told the story on the next
morning.
At one time I spent six weeks with the army on the
move, having in charge a large amount of hospital stores,
and having the privilege of personally dispensing them to
those who so greatly needed them. As the steamer on
which we had our headquarters was tied up for the night, I
was sent for by the colonel of a Wisconsin regiment, in
great haste, to see a young man who was very ill on board
the steamer Express. As we entered the boat we were met
by the colonel, who said,'Ladies, I am in great distress; I
have in my regiment a young man who had graduated,
studied law, and was about to enter into partnership with
his father, when my regiment was forming. He was an
only child, and a young man of rare promise.  Hle enlisted
in my regiment. The day we left-Wisconsin his father and
mother were with us. The mother, forgetting all but her
only child, threw her arms around me, and said,' O, colonel,
for God's sake, guard my treasure, for it is my all; and
now I'm afraid he's going to die.'  W'e threaded our way
356 
MRS. A. HI. HIOGE.
through the long cabin, on which lay rows of sick soldiers,
with no pillow but a hard knapsack, no bed but the bare
floor, and no clothing but that in which they had marched
and picketed for many weary weeks. The young man
referred to had been placed in a state-room. As we
entered, he drew the soiled blanket over his once neat
collar and neck-tie, that had not been removed, and said,
'Ladies, don't come in; I'm too filthy to be seen.' As he
lay there, I thought I had seldom seen a finer face; a broad
forehead, clearly-cut features, and dark, expressive eyes,
betokened intellect and refinement. We talked with him
cheerfully, told him the colonel had granted him a furlough, to be removed to our boat, to be carefully nursed
till we could place him in his mother's care. He looked so
bright, and spoke so cheerfully, that we cherished hopes of
his early recovery.  We promised to send a stretcher for
him early in the morning, and after,making, all arrangements for his comfort, and giving him a cup of tea, we left
him.  After leaving the room, I thought, What if he should
die? Who will receive his last words, or know his last
thoughts?  I turned back, and said,'We shall send for you
in the morning, if we live; but life is so uncertain, especially ill the army on the move! Suppose we never meet on
earth again,- what would you say?' Looking serenely up,
he said,'I understand you. Should I die, tell my mother,
as I have lain here these weary days, all her early teachings
have come back, and I trust have done their work. iMy
Sabbath school lessons, that she struggled to teach me, are
now remembered and prized.  Tell her I hope to meet her
in that heaven where she is sure to go; and tell her I never
357 
WOMEN OF THE VWA.
regretted the step I have taken.  She must not mourn for
me as without hope, for if I die'twill be in a glorious cause,
and our separation will be short.'  I said,'Thank God!  I
hope you may be spared long to comfort your parents and
serve your country and your Maker.'   He thanked  me
earnestly for returning, and, as I was told, talked cheerfulily for an hour about going home. The next morning we
sent a stretcher, but the answer came back, that William
had gone home, not to his mother, but to his Father's arms.
Three weeks later, on my route to Vicksburg, I met a friend
of the family in search of William's body.  He said the
parents were longing for the precious casket of their jewel
to lay it to rest, under the old willow tree at the homestead.
They had well nigh sunk under the crushing blow, but were
upheld by his parting words of love, and faith, and heroism,
which I had transmitted to them.
After the first repulse of our army from Vicksburg, sad
stories of sickness and suffering reached the ears of the
Sanitary Commission. I was intrusted by the Commission
with a choice supply of stores, and, accompanied by two
gentlemen, started for Vicksburg. The river was high, the
weather miserably rainy and depressing; guerrillas constantly threatening our boat - everything portentous and
gloomy.  After a painful but rapid journey, we reached
Young,'s Point, when I was immediately transferred, with
my stores, to the Silver Wave, the Sanitary boat of the
United States Sanitary Commission.  For ten days I stood
in the little storehouse of the Commission, dealing out life,
and health, and happiness to our emaciated soldiers.  As I
stood at the rude counter, I had beside me a barrel of soft
358 
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
crackers, a bag of onlions, a sack of potatoes, a box of herring, a box of pepper, and a box of home-made gingerbread.
Green tea, lemons, codfish, and white sugar completed the
assortment. The news spread quickly that a lady was on
the Sanitary boat with comforts for the sick.  Requisitions
poured in rapidly, for, alas! the need was great.  The
number of the hospital, the exact number of sick men, the
character of supplies  needed, were  carefully designated,
signed by the surgeon, as well as a solemn pledge given
that not one jot or tittle should be used but for the sick
soldiers. I believe, with rare exceptions, it was kept.
Careful subsequent examinations of all the hospitals supplied provedcl it. As I stood at my post, convalescent
soldiers, that we should call skeletons at home, by dint of
canes and crutches, and friendly hands, came in solemn
procession to receive for themselves these treasures.  I
rejoice to be able to say I did not turn one away emptyhanded; and also to remark, to the honor of the bravo
soldiers, that not one applied whose appearance was not a
complete certificate of his necessity. I said to one of these
emaciated men,'Will you have a few soft crackers?'  The
only answer was an outstretched hand and a tearful eye.
'Shall I give you an onion?'   0, how I've longed for that,
and wished I had ten cents to buy one from the sutler!'
To another I said,'Perhaps you would like a lemon.''A
lemon! just let me look at and smell one; I believe'twould
cure me.'  iHow about some home-made  gingerbreadcl?'
That always brought the gushing tears, and was, without
fail, just likewife's or mother's. One poor fellow, who was
obliged to seize both railings to support himself up the
359
4 
WOMOEN OF THE WAR.
narrow stairway, opened his battered haversack, and drew
forth a small paper of coffee. Said he,'I know you don't
sell anything here; but I thought, if I could changre this
coffee I've saved from my rations for a little green tea, I'd
get an appetite. If I could only get a cup of tea like
mother made, I believe I should get well.' I motioned
back the parcel, for I could not speak, and gave him a little
package containing white sugar, and a lemon, some green
tea, two herrings, two onions, and some pepper. He looked
at the parcel a moment, and said,' Is that all for me?'  I
bowed assent. He covered his pinched face with his thin
hands, and burst into a low, sobbing cry.  I laid my hand
upon his shoulder, and said,  Why do you weep?'' God
bless the women!' he sobbed out;'what should we do but
for them? I came from father's farm, where all knew plenty;
I've lain sick these three months; I've seen no woman's
face, nor heard her voice, nor felt her warm hand till
to-day, and it unmans me; but don't think I rue my bargain, for I don't. I've suffered much and long, but don't
let them know at home. May be I'll never have a chance
to tell them how much; but I'd go through it all for the old
flag.''Who knows,' I said,'but the very luxuries I've
given you have been sent from the Aid Society to which
your mother belongs?''I shouldn't wonder,' hlie replied,
'for my mother writes me she never lets anythiin keep her
away from the meetings. I'm glad of it, for I don't know
what would become of us poor fellows but for the Sanitary
Commission.' HIe wiped away his tears with the back of
his hand, gave me his' Good-by! God bless you!' and said,
Ifeel that I've turned the corner; I haven't felt as strong
360 
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
for months as I am now.' With the help of onte railing he
descended the stairs, and called out from  the  landing,
'Farewell! God bless you!'
"In one of my frequent trips to the army, I was detained
for some time at Columbus, Kentucky, on the Mississippi
River, and improved the time in moving about among the
waiting regiments, and talking with the different soldiers.
I passed from group to group, and said a cheering word,
and told how we loved, and honored, and labored for
them at home. It required but a moment to gather large
audiences; and 0, what listeners! The words home, wife,
mother, always brought cheers and tears, worshipful reverence, and grateful thanks. I believe there does not exist,
nor ever has existed on this earth, a more noble, brave,
honorable, tender, patient, and enduring race of men than
our Union soldiers.  As I turned from the last group to
walk up the fortifications, I heard a quick step, and, turiining,
saw a fine young man, in the uniform of an orderly sergeant.
He touched his cap, and said,' Madam, excuse me; but if
you will not consider it impertinent, I would ask the favor
of accompanying you.  I've always been accustomed to
female society, and during the nine months I have been in
the army, you are the first lady I have spoken to.' Said I,
'I consider it a great honor to be escorted by a soldier, and
as you are about the age of one of my solns, Ishould be
glad to have your strong arm to lean upon, as I ascend the
hill; and you call tell me something of your history.'' I
am the last of my mother's eight children,' he said,
solemnly,'and she is a widow. I had a fine position, was
postmaster in a flourishing town in Iowa, and could not ask
361 
W0OMEN OF THE WAR.
for brighter prospects than I had when the war broke out.
At the first call I felt that I must go, and said so to my
mother.  She faltered, saying,,'John, not yet; so many
mothers have more than one child, and some that have but
one are not widows!  I felt'twas true, especially as father
had left her to my care. The second call came. As it
happened,'twvas harder than ever to go, for I had another's
consent to ask beside my mother's then. Next door to us
lived an orphan girl, whom I had known and loved from
childhood -I never knew how much, till it appeared possible I might have to leave her. Before I knew it, I had
told her all, and found she loved me also.  We were engag,ed to be married; nevertheless, I felt I must go now,
and at once told manother. She turned pale, but said,' John,
I'll be as good as my word; go, and God bless you! but
what of Mary?' I'll see her at once, I said; and in five
minutes I was beside her in the porch, where she stood
every evening, waiting, for me, on the very spot where we
first pledged our troth.  In the dim  twilight her quick
woman's eye read something.  She said, quickly,' What's
the matter, John? Are you ill?'  Not ill, but sad, Mary.
The president has called for three hundred thousand more,
and I must be going.  Mother says yes; what says my
darling?' The color had faded from her cheek, but her eye
brightened as she said,'God forbid I should stand in your
way; as your mother said, I say, Go, and God bless you!
I've been fearing and hoping for this.  I love you better
than ever, and should have felt ashamed had you held
back. But, John, one thing must be done; I never expected to say this; but we must be married: if you are sick
362 
MRS. A. H. HIOGE.
or wounded I must go to you, and when you leave I must
live with your mother;' and as she laid her head upon my
shoulder, she whispered,' and, John, I would rather be your
widow than another man's bride.'  Next day we were married, I enlisted, and before nightfall was on my way to my
regiment.  Strange as it may seem, I have never regretted
the step. Mother and Mary live together, and write such
cheerful letters twice a week that I could not be despondent
if I would.  They say,'Keep up your courage, John.  God
takes care of us, and will of you. We expect you home at
the end of the war, loaded with honlors; and 0, what a welcome we'll give you!'  I brought my wedding coat with
me, and looked at it, with smiles and tears, night and
morning, as it hung up in my tent.  Some villain stole it
last night, and the gold of California could not have bought
it. No matter; I have their daguerrotypes. I wish it were
not too dark for you to see them.' Just at this point we
had reached the brow of the hill, crowned with its frowning battlements. The golden purple had faded from the
clouds; the dimly-defined battle-field of Belmont lay across
the stream; the heavy moan of the Father of Waters mingled with the distant hum of moving squadrons, as they
filed into the boats; the heavy tread of the sentinels, and
the booming of the evening gun, completed the warlike
character of this strange but fascinating scene. We stood
in silence; our hearts were too full for utterance.  My
young friend passed his hand across his eyes hastily, as he
said,' Don't think I would have things otherwise; I counted
the cost, and am willing to pay the price, be it what it may.'
I said,'A moment since I pitied you, but now I envy you;
363 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
you are happy in your choice; are sustained by wife and
mother; know what self-sacrificing patriotism means, and
trust in God implicitly.''You are right,' he said,'I will
write your words to mother and Mary, for I am proud of
them both.' We walked down the hill rapidly, and were
soon at John's camp.  As we parted he said,'I believe
God sent you here, madam; for the first time in nine
months I had a touch of home-sickness just before I met
you; it is all gone now - farewell! God bless and keep
you.' He vaulted lightly over the ditch around the camp,
and was soon lost among the white tents of the encampment. I know not whether John still lives to honor his
regiment, or whether he lives in a hospital, or sleeps in a
southern grave; one thing I know, living or dying, he is
one of the Lord's own, and will shine among his jewels.
In a few days after this interview I entered the Gayoso
Block Hospital, at Memphis, under the care of Mother
Bickerdyke, of great renown. My visit was unexpected,
and happened at supper time. As I entered the door I met
Mother Bickerdyke in the convalescent dining hall, where
everything on the table was nutritious and appetizing. As
she was on her way to the hospital wards, I accompanied
her. There lay six hundred freshly-wounded men from the
battle of Arkansas Post. Each man was eating such food
as we would have given them at home. The air was perfectly pure, and the snowy sheets, and shirts, and soft
pillows were refreshing.
Mrs. Bickerdyke knew every man by name, as by intuition, and, as she passed, spoke to one and another. When
we reached the centre of the room, she said,'Boys, this is
364 
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
Mrs. Iloge, from Chicago, from the North-west Sanitary
Commission.  Look at your shirts, sheets, and pillows;
they are all marked with the name of the Sanitary Commission; your good suppers to-night all came from there,
and what you get every day comes from the same place.'
As from one voice arose the cry,'Three cheers for the
Sanitary Commission I God bless the women at home!' As
we passed from cot to cot, Mrs. Bickerdyke would ask,
'William, how does your egg, suit you?''Exactly right,
mother.'' WVell, John, how goes the milk toast?'  Bully,
mother- tastes like the old cow's milk at home.' Said a
gray-headed man, with a shattered arm,'Mother, I don't
believe my wife could beat that cup of green tea you made
me, with white sugar in it; it has about cured me; I feel
as chirk as a robin.'
"At one cot knelt a bright, bronzed-faced, motherly
woman, feeding her husband cautiously. His jaw had
been shot away, the splintered fragments removed, and he
lay a woful spectacle, not able to speak intelligibly.' How
do you feel to-night, James?' said Mother Bickerdyke.
'All right, now, since she's come,' said he, laying his hand
fondly on her head. The constant woman's face beamed
with joy as she said,'I believe I can take him home next
week.'
As I was about to leave, I stood in their midst, and
said,. Boys, you look so bright and happy, and seem so
cheerful, I think you must be shamming: you are all
heroes'; but are you badly wounded?'   Why shouldn't we
be happy?' cried out a brave, manly voice;'we left all to
fight for the old flag, and put it where it belongs, and we
365 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
left it flying at Arkansas Post, if we did get hit.'  Another
cried out, cheerfully,'Madam, what do you call this?'
and drew aside the sheet, to show the stump of a leg.
Another pointed to where the strong right arm had been,
and another to his bandaged head, from which a piece of
shell had been extracted. A Wisconsin battery boy, beside
me, called out,'What do you say of me? One of my
arms was taken off nine months ago, and the doctor says
the other must go to-morrow. I've been in nine battles,
and been wounded every time; but'the Post' has used me
up. What am I to do in the world, not twenty years old,
and no arms?''My grand fellow,' said I,  the women will
take care of you. God never spared your life but for some
great purpose, and I believe you will live to bless and be
blessed.' Tears burst from his eyes, as the boys cheered,
and he said, fervently,' Thank you for that.'
The long, and weary siege of Vicksburg had continued
many months previous to the terrific assaults of our brave
army on the fortifications in the rear of that rebel stronghold. On the 19th and 22d of May were made those
furious attacks, up the steep acclivities, in the teeth of
bristling fortifications, long lines of rifle-pits, and sharpshooters, who fringed the hill-tops, and poured their murderous fire into our advancing ranks. It would seem impossible that men could stand, much less advaRce, under
such a galling fire. They were mowed down as wheat
before the sickle; but they faltered not. The vacant places
of the fallen were instantly filled, and inch by inch they
gained the heights of Vicksburg. When the precipice was
too steep for the horses to draw up the artillery, our brave
366 
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
boys did the work themselves; and then fought, and conquered. V When they had gained the topmost line of riflepits, they entered in -and took possession; and when I
made my last visit to the Army of the Mississippi, there
they were, ensconced as conies in the rock, enduring the
heat of a vertical sun, and crouching like beasts of prey,
to escape the rebel bullets from the earthworks, almost
within touching distance. The fierce and bloody struggle
had filled long lines of field hospitals with mangled victims,
whose sufferings were soothed and relieved beyond what I
could have conceived possible; and it rejoiced my heart to
see there the comforts and luxuries of the Sanitary Commission. The main body of the army lay encamped in the
valleys, at the foot of the rifle-pits, and spread its lines in a
semicircle, to a distance of fourteen miles. The health of
the army was perfect, and its spirit jubilant. They talked
of the rebels as prisoners; as though they were guarding
them; and answered questions implying doubt of success
with a scornful laugh, saying,'Why, the boys in the rear
could whip Johnston, and we know it; and we could take
Vicksburg if we chose, and not disturb them.'  Each regiment, if not each man, felt competent for the work.
"One glorious day in June, accompanied by an officer of
the Eighth Missouri, I set out for the rifle-pits.  When I
reached them, I found the heat stifling; and as I bent to
avoid the whizzing minies, and the falling branches of the
trees, cut off by an occasional shell, I felt that war was a
terrible reality. The intense excitement of the scene; the
manly, cheerful bearing of the veterans; the booming of
the cannon from the battlements, and the heavy mortars
367 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
that were ever and anon throwing their huge iron balls into
Vicksburg, and the picturesque panorama of the army encamped below, obliterated all sense of personal danger or
fatigue. After a friendly talk with the men in the extreme
front, and a peep again and again through the loopholes,
watched and fired upon continually by the wary foe, I
descended to the second ledge, where the sound of music
reached us. We followed it quickly, and in a few minutes
stood behind a rude litter of boughs, on which lay a grayhaired soldier, face downward, with a comrade on either
side. They did not perceive us, but sang on the closing
line of the verse,
'Come, humble sinner, in whose breast
A thousand thoughts revolve,
Come with your guilt and fear oppressed,
And make this last resolve.'
I joined in the second verse,
'I'll go to Jesus, though my sin
Hath like a mountain rose;
I know his courts; I'll enter in,
Whatever may oppose.'
In an instant, each man turned, and would have stopped;
but I sang on, with moistened eyes, and they continued.
At the close one burst out,'Why, madam, whee did you
come from?  Did you drop from heaven into these riflepits? You are the first lady we have seen here;' and
then the voice was choked with tears. I said,'I have come
from your friends at home, and bring messages of love and
honor. I have come to bring you the comforts we owe
368 
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
you, and love to give. I've come to see if you receive
what they send you.''Do they think as much of us as
that? Why, boys, we can fight another year on that - can't
we?''Yes! yes!' they cried; and almost every hand
was raised to brush away the tears.'Why, boys,' said I,
the women at home don't think of much besides the soldiers. If they meet to sew,'tis for you; if they have a
good time,'tis to gather money for the Sanitary Commission; if they pray,'tis for the soldiers; and even the little
children, as they kneel at their mothers' knees, to lisp their
good-night prayers, say, " God bless the soldiers."' A crowd
of eager listeners had gathered from their hiding-places, as
birds from the rocks. Instead of cheers, as usual, I could
only hear an occasional sob, and feel solemn silence.  The
gray-haired veteran drew from his breast pocket a daguerrotype, and said,'Here are my wife and daughters. I
think any man might be proud of thenm; and they all work
for the soldiers.' And then each man drew forth the irresistible daguerrotype, and held it for me to look at, with
pride and affection. There were aged mothers and sober
matrons, bright-eyed maidens and laughing cherubs, all
carried next these brave hearts, and cherished as life itself.
Blessed art! it seemed as though it were part of God's
preparation work for this long and cruel war. These mute
memorials of home and its loved ones have proved the
talisman of many a tempted heart, and the solace of
thousands of suffering, weary veterans. I had much to
do, and prepared to leave.  I said,'Brave men, farewell!
When I go home I'll tell them that men who never flinch
before a foe sing hymns of praise in the rifle-pits of
24
369 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Vicksburg. I'll tell them that eyes that never weep for
their own suffering, overflow at the name of home, and
the sight of the pictures of their wives and children.
They'll feel, more than ever, that such men cannot be
conquered, and that enough cannot be done for them.'
Three cheers for the women at home, and a grasp of
multitudes of hard, honest hands, and I turned away to
visit other regiments.  The officer who was with me grasped
my hand.'Madam,' said he,'promise me you'll visit my
regiment to-morrow -'twould be worth a victory to them.
You don't know what good a lady's visit to the army does.
These men, whom you have seen to-day, will talk of your
visit for six months to come. Around the fires, in the
rifle-pits, in the dark night, or on the march, they will
repeat your words, describe your looks, voice, size, and
dress; and all agree in one respect, that you look like
an angel, and exactly like each man's wife or mother.'
Such reverence have our soldiers for upright, tenderhearted women.
"In the valley beneath, just having escaped the front line
of rifle-pits, with the regiment now occupying it, encamped
my son's regiment.  Its ranks had been fearfully thinned
by the terrible assaults of the 19th and 21st of May, as
they had formed the right wilng of the line of battle on that
fearful day. I knew most of them personally, and as they
gathered round me, and inquired for home and friends,
I could but look in sadness for many familiar faces, to be
seen no more on earth. I said,'Boys, I was present when
your colors were presented to you by the Board of Trade.
I heard your colonel pledge himself that you would bring
370 
MRS. A. H. IIOGE.
those colors home, or cover them with your blood as well
as glory. I want to see them, if you have them still, after
your many battles.' With great alacrity, the man in charge
of them ran into an adjoining tent, and brought them forth,
carefully wrapped in an oil-silk covering. He drew it off,
and flung the folds to the breeze.'What does this mean?'
I said.'How soiled, and tattered, and rent, and faded they
look! I should not know them.'  The man who held them
said,'Why, ma'am,'twas the smoke and balls did that.'
'Ah! so it must have been,' I said.'Well, you have
covered them with glory, but how about the blood?' A
silence of a minute followed, and then a low voice said,
'Four were shot down holding them: two are dead, and
two in the hospital.''Verily, you have redeemed your
pledge,' I said, solemnly.'Now, boys, sing " Rally round
the Flag, Boys!"  And they did sing it.  As it echoed
through the valley, as we stood withih sight of the greensward that had been reddened with the blood of those who
had fought for and upheld it, methought the angels might
have paused to hear it, for it was a sacred song, - the
song of freedom to the captive, of hope to the oppressed
of all nations.  Since then, it seems almost profane to sing
it with thoughtlessness or frivolity. After a touching farewell, I stepped into the ambulance, surrounded by a crowd
of the brave fellows.
"The last sound that reached my ears was cheers for the
Sanitary Commission and the women  at home.  I soon
reached the regimental hospital, where lay the wounded
color-bearers. As I entered the tent, the surgeon met
me, and said,'I'm  so glad you've come! for R. has been
371 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
calling for you all day.' As I took his parched, feverish
hand, he said,' 0, take me home to my wife and little ones,
to die!'  There he lay, as noble A specimen of vigorous
manhood as I had ever looked upon.  His great, broad
chest heaved with emotion; his dark eyes were brilliant
with fever; his cheeks flushed with almost the hue of
health; his rich brown hair clustering in soft curls over
his massive forehead,- it was difficult to realize that he was
entering the portals of eternity. I walked across the tent
to the doctor, and asked' if he could go with me. He
shook his head, and said before midnight he would be at
rest. I shrunk from his eager gaze as I approached him.
'What does he say?' he asked, quickly.'You can't be
moved.' The broad chest rose and fell; his whole frame
quivered. There was a pause of a few moments. He
spoke first, and said,'WVill you take my message to her?'
'I will,' I said,'if I go five hundred iiles to do it.''Take
her picture from under my pillow, and my children's also.
Let me see it once more.' As I held them for him, he
looked earnestly, and then said,'Tell her not to fret about
me, for we shall meet in heaven. Tell her'twas all right
that I came. I don't regret it, and she must not. Tell her
to train these two little boys, that we loved so well, to go
to heaven to us; and tell her to bear my loss like a soldier's
wife and a Christian.'  He was exhausted by the effort.  I
sat beside him till his consciousness was gone, repeating
God's precious promises. As the sun went to rest that
night, he slept in his Father's bosom."
372 
MISS EMILY W. DANA.
ROBABLY there were none of the military hospitals
that had concentrated within their walls a greater
number of the elements of deep and touching interest than
the General Hospital established in the buildings and on
the grounds of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland.   Others were  nearer the front, and contained a
greater proportion of surgical and very serious cases. The
amputating table, with its terrible array of glittering apparatus, was little used at Annapolis.   The soldiers who
came there were those whose constitutions had been shatteredcl to the foundation by long sickness, fearful hardships,
or deep and torturing wounds. The sufferings of many
were hopeless. They would never ag,aihl shoulder arms or
draw a ramrod.  And, what was a far keener thought, the
bent and wasted figure that a few  months before had
stepped across the threshold full of the vigor and hope of
young manhood, would never enter again the far-off mountain or prairie home.  The only hope of the docter and the
nlurse was to alleviate the sufferings of the patient, and
make his slow march to the grave less gloomy and
appalling.
During the last year of the war this hospital became the
general rendezvous of the hundreds and thousands vf
(373) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
starving prisoners just released from Belle Isle, Libby,
Salisbury, and Andersonville.  No  language  can be too
graphic to depict the appearance of those miserable groups
that every few days came in special trains from Washington,
or in boats from Fortress Monroe, fresh from the long tortures of those infamous prison pens.  Moving skeletons
they were, or shrivelled mummies they seemed, half restored to the world of breathing, hopeful existence, the
minds  of many  stupefied  by  the dreary  and hopeless
monotony of suffering through which they had passed.
Others, again, were goaded almost to madness by the
thought that these enormous cruelties, and the countless
deaths they had witnessed, and which they had expected to
suffer, were the result of a system of slow torture, deliberately adopted by the rebel authorities, or of a reckless
indifference to the lives of captured enemies and the usages
of civilized warfare, equally barbarou~ and criminal.
Nonle of the sufferers by war appealed more directly or
more feelingly to the sympathizing heart and the Christian
charity of woman than the inmates of the Naval School
Hospital. And nobly was that appeal met by the corps
of nurses who devoted themselves to these hundreds and
thousands of patients.  The surgeon in charge at the Naval
School was Dr. ~anderkieft.  The lady superintendent in
charge of the nursing and special diet of the wh6le establishment was, for a time, Miss Tyler, of Baltimore; and
afterwards, that model of what is most excellent in character, and most admirable  in practical efficiency,  Miss
Maria M. C. Hall, of Washington City.
At different times there were associated with Miss Hall,
374 
MISS EMILY W. DANA.
in these labors, more than twenty ladies, from various
loyal states. The most of those who occupied this interesting field were from  Maine  and Massachusetts.   So
numerous was the deputation from the former state that
they were sometimes  called the "Maine stay" of  the
Annapolis Hospital.
In the fall of 1863 a large number of ladies came out
from Portland and its vicinity, and labored for different
periods in the various wards of the hospital.  The work
was so systematized that each person had a particular
number of patients assigned to her.   The hospital was
divided into sections, and each section into wards. Miss
Emily W. Dana came, with several others, in August, 1863,
and was assigned to wards B and C of section three.
The most of these patients were prisoners just released
from Belle Isle and Libby Prisons. Medicines were of
little avail to reach their cases. Suitable food, ill proper
quantities, seasoned with cheerful talk, sometimes a song
or a story, and, more than all, the presence of a graceful
woman, reminding them of the homes  and delights they
had so long been absent from, and suggestilng the hopes
and joys of social and refined existence, were more potent
for their recovery than any drug, or balsam, or sulphate
During the eight months that Miss Dana was ministering
to the succession of sufferers who filled the cots,atid chairs
of these wards, she saw many cases of the most profound
and touching interest.
It was never an easy matter to obey the instructions of
the physician, who ordered a special and carefully regulated diet for those whose systems had become thoroughly
375 
WOM0EN OF THE WAR.
impaired by slow starvation. Every day, and many times
each day, she was obliged to say to some of these poor
fellows, "You must not have this or that," while their
longing eyes were watching each mouthful, and devouring
every morsel of a heartier neighbor's food. So bitterly
had they suffered the pangs of hunger, that often their
latest breath was expended in the most pitiful supplica tions for something to eat.
One day Miss Dana found a new patient in one of the
cots that she was accustomed to visit. IHe was a beautiful
boy from IKentucky, and his name was Thomas Munlday.
Not even the terrible ordeal through which he had passed
had dimmed the sunny lustre of his chestnut curls, or
blurred the brightness of his eye.  She asked him what
she could do for him - the usual question upon approaching a new patient.  "Write to Kentucky, immediately, for
my father to come." She wondered, somewhat, at the
earnestness of the request, for there was nothing threatening about his symptoms; but a day or two proved that
the poor boy knew best.  The suffering from hunger had
gone too far, and though he had "gotten back"- as he
called it - to God's country," and the ample resources
of the Sanitary and Christian Commissions afforded abundant variety of the most delicate and tempting dishes,
nothing that was brought could, for a moment, satisfy or
nourish him. Day after day, for a week, his strength
wasted, until all likelihood of recovery was abandoned;
and Miss Dana could only hope to keep the vital spark
alive, so that the father might arrive from the distant state
in time to see his bright-haired boy before he died.  iHeo
376 
MISS EMILY W. DANA.
never complained, but occasionally asked, beseechingly,
"Can't you do something for me?" his great blue eyes,
with their dilated pupils, pleading even more earnestly
than words. But suddenly she saw them charged with an
expression entirely new and fearful. One morning, as she
approached his cot, the boy that had been so patient and
passive cast upon her a wistful, greedy look, as of a
hungry animal.  She was bringing him  a little brandy.
Hie raised himself with a painful and nervous energy, and
clinched the glass, exclaiming, "I'm glad you've come!
I'm so hungry! Is that all the breakfast you've brought
me?  I'm starving!  0," said he, in tones inexpressibly
plaintive, " I'm so hungry!"  He drew one deep sigh, that
seemed loaded with the agony of the long months of pain
which he had suffered, and fell back upon his cot. The
wildness died out instantly from his eyes; they became dim
and stony. The slow torture was ended. It was not until
the next day that the old Kentucky  farmer came,  and
looked down at the pinched features, and heard from his
nurse, with a heart whose heaviness none can tell, the story
of his death.
One beautiful Sunday morning in September, Miss Dana
entered ward C with a handful of flowers for one of her
patients. In the cot beside his she saw a fresh arrival, a
noble-looking soldier, with evidences of a high-order of
intellectual and spiritual manhood stamped upon his fine
features. The patient to whom she brought the flowers
introduced him as Sergeant Martin Armstrong,  and he
seemed proud to claim him as a friend, and a member of
the regiment to which he belonged.  The little hospital cot
377 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
seemed too small for his manly proportions, as he lay half
bolstered up, his grave and penetrating but kindly eyes
following every look and motion of those about him,
silently measuring and fathoming all. Though his brow
was knit from the exquisite pain he constantly suffered,
no one thought of offering to him, that august and selfcontained spirit, the sympathy which he quietly bestowed
on others. Tortured by his wound, and steadily sinking
to his grave, there was yet a something about this man that
changed the atmosphere of the whole ward; and all the
men in it were lifted above their every-day selves by the
magnetism of his noble patience, and the elevated fortitude
with which he faced death. The more she saw of him, the
more deeply was she impressed with the rare qualities of
this dying patriot. It was evident that he had entered the
army fresh from the fine and pure enthusiasms of classic
culture, and communion with the most elevated authors of
antiquity. His studies had been religious, as well as literary. Homer and David, Moses and Tacitus, Solomon
and Seneca, had been his chosen authors before the gown
of the scholar was exchanged for the sword of the dragoon,
and they had been his companions at many a solitary picket
stand, and his consolation at the camp fire. On the little
table by his side lay his books - an uncommon collection,
surely, for a soldier's knapsack. They were all well worn,
and had been collected, since he took the field, from miscellaneous sources. There were the campaigns of that
"laurelled scholar" of Rome, and all adown the margin
were notes and criticisms, that indicated how carefully he
had studied, and how thoroughly he comprehended the
378 
MISS EMILY W. DANA.
matchless military genius of Caesar. Beside it was a'iri
?omae; and all the passages where the peculiar fortitude
of the Roman character was delineated were approvingly
marked and commented upon. His books would have indicated the scholar and the moral enthusiast, even if ]is
manner had not already betrayed it.
His sickness was caused by an old wound in the left
thigh, which, from a forced march to Richmond, after
being taken prisoner at Gettysburg, a distance of a hundred and eighty-two miles, opened afresh, and with fatal
symptoms.   Two  weeks  he  suffered from  the wound,
and from a slow typhoid fever. At last gangrene set
in, and ended  the  chapter.   Once  only he wondered
what he had ever done that he should suffer so; and
then not in a spirit of complaint, but rather as a religious philosopher. Adams, the nurse in the ward, was
from the same place, Pittsburg, a member of the same
company, and a personal friend of Armstrong. It was
touching to see the tenderness with which the strong,
bearded soldier nursed his dying friend. His love was
like the love of Jonathan; it passed the love of woman.
He had neither eye nor ear for others, but sat, night and
day, with a Roman patience, watching, in painful solicitude,
the long, hard struggle between such fine physical powers
and the relentless grasp of the disease. The poer body
was fearfully racked and emaciated.  At length, after two
weeks of great agony, his reason gave way. WYild
snatches of old songs, fine passages from classic orators
and poets, were mingled with cries of distress and incoherent mutterings. Even in its chaos, and in the extremity
379 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
of death, those around him could not but say, with
Ophelia, -
"0, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, tongue, sword."
Death at length ended the melancholy scene. Early one
Sunday morning, Miss Dana, at the first bugle-call, hastened to the ward, and found the officer of the day closing
his eyes, and fitting the chin-cloth under his marble features. Close beside the manly but now rigid figure sat
poor Adams, his head bowed upon  his hands, and his
strong frame convulsed by the grief that would have way.
Never afterwards could Armstrong's name be mentioned
that quick tears did not start in his eyes.  From  him
she learned that Armstrong, was nearly fitted for the pulpit
when the war broke out; that he had enlisted in the Sixth
United States cavalry, and was noted in the regiment for
his soldierly qualities, and the grave and elevated spirit of
patriotism and manliness with which he was ever actuated.
The presence and the death of this man in the ward had a
marked effect upon the patients. They recognized in him
a strength of moral character, and a power in his reliant,
yet self-sacrificing example, that made them proud to suffer
in a cause that was consecrated by the death of victims so
noble.
During the whole of her period of attendance, from
August till the following May, Miss Dana was impressed
with the uncomplaining endurance with which all the
sufferings she witnessed were borne.   "No  matter," she
says, "what the case or cause, -I rarely heard a word of
380
0 
MISS EMILY W. DANA.
repining or regret; so rarely, indeed, that such a word was
noted, and the unfortunate complainant marked, and almost
scorned, by those of stronger will."
The whole of her experience there, though in the midst
of agony, and under the shadow of frequent deaths, was
so full of instances of what is most admirable and praiseworthy in human  character and the manly virtues, that she
regards it by far the richest and most satisfactory in life.
381 
MRS. S. BURGER STEARNS.
HIIEN the great organized charities that did so much
to bless the soldier were first instituted, the people
were, for the most part, ignorant of the system upon which
they operated, and the precise method in which they accomplished their benign results. There was, moreover,
much scepticism as to the genuineness of their charity.
Many could not be convinced that the active agents of the
Sanitary Commission were not instigated by some selfish
motive, and were, in fact, seeking wealth or promotion
under a saintly guise.
What becomes of all the mag,nificent sums of money that
are received from our Sanitary Fairs? Who are benefited
by these tons upon tons of delicacies and luxuries which
are constantly forwarded to the poor wounded soldier?
Does he receive them? Is the condition of our disabled
men as much above that of armies in all previous wars as
the unexampled generosity of our people would imply?
To answer questions like these; to explain the objects,
the origin, and the working of the Sanitary and Christian
Commissions; to illustrate the manner in which they
reached the soldier on the battle-field or in remote hospitals; to show the utility of lady nurses in military hospitals, and the good accomplished by them; to give
(382) 
MRS. S. BURGER STEARNS.
individual instances of courage, fidelity, and self-sacrifice,
thus proving the value of past contributions, and affording
warrant for new sacrifices and larger generosity, -in order
to secure all these ends there was demanded a new and
peculiar class of self-sacrificing laborers. The Commissions were too much occupied with their duties in the field
to undertake a home enterprise like this. Those ladies
whose hearts were wholly enlisted in the work could find
in the hospital and on the battle-field a life more engrossing, whose romance would in a manner compensate for its
hardships.
A few could be named, as Mrs. Hoge in the West, and
Mrs. Harris in the East, whose fine natural gifts and social
position enabled them to be singularly effective and useful
in' both lines of service. They were indefatigable at the
front, and at the same time, with their pens or in oral
addresses, stimulated fresh largesses from their friends
at home.
Mrs. Stearns's mission was somewhat different. As her
husband was a colonel in active service, she held it her
duty to be in readiness to go to attend upon him the moment he should become disabled. She accordingly devoted
herself earnestly to home labor in explaining, illustrating,
and recommending those magnificent systems of sanitary
usefulness. Her mission and her work were, during the
war, to relieve, cheer, and strengthen the brave soldier in
the field, and the anxious patriot at home, by eloquent
words. While she fully appreciated the value of all unselfish workers in all parts of the harvest-field, she felt that
the example of that noble corps of co-laborers ought to be
383 
WOMRN OF THE  WAR.
made a power to incite to blessed acts of charity those who
were taking no share in the work; and therefore she took
upon herself the task of rousing the indifferent, and employing the inactive, through the influence of lectures upon
"Our Soldiers' Aid Societies," and upon the "United States
Sanitary and Christian Commissions."  In Michigan, where
these lectures commenced, and in most of the large towns
of that state where they were delivered, Mrs. Stearns was
known as a highly accomplished and earnest young woman,
who had made special efforts to secure for herself and others
of her sex the advantages of a complete lassical course of
studies in the State University of Michigan.
..When the war broke out, and her husband went into
active service, though prompted to accompany him to the
field, she was sure she could engage in a more important
line of activity at home. She accordingly visited Washingtonll, and the hospitals in its vicinity; and becoming familiar with the system of the Commissions and the wants
of the soldier, she came before the people full of arguments
and incidents illustrative of the untold good that had been
done by Soldiers' Aid Societies and their public representatives and almoners, the two Commissions.  Her own
example was rich in the virtue of self-sacrifice. Without
pecuniary recompense were her labors, but not without
rich reward. She so fully appreciated the soldier's brave
devotion, that it was ever a joy to her to offer him her
tribute of praise, and a double joy to find her zealous and
loyal words inciting others to generous gifts and abundant
labors in his behalf.
Aside from the direct aid to the soldier thus secured,
384 
MRS. S. BURGER STEARNS 
Mrs. Stearns' success in these lectures was incidentally
beneficial in showing how much good can be effected by
any accomplished and true-hearted woman, without train scending the proprieties of her sex, or violating the decorum
of society. Referring to her lecture before a large audience
in the Representatives' Hall, an editor says, " Ier discourse
was listened to for an hour, with profound attention, by
as many persons as could find seats in the hall.  Some of
the audience came to hear Mrs. Stearns partly out of curi osity; but all went away with the conviction that it is
possible for a lady to speak effectively to a promiscuous
audience in behalf of suffering humanity without stepping
out of her true sphere, or compromising her modesty and
dignity as a woman."
The Honll. Schuyler Colfax, in an address at Washington,
alluding to the example of Mrs. Stearns and some others
who were equally zealous and earnest,'says, "We  have on
record the example of the prophetess Deborah, who, ill her
rejoicing song before the children of Israel, poured out her
praises upon those who, as she declares so strikingly,'jeoparded their lives unto the death in the high places of the
field,'and her curses upon the inhabitants of Meroz,'because
they came not to the help of the Lord -to the help of the
Lord against the mighty;' and I have not found in that
sacred record that she was regarded as unsexing herself by
public comments on the patriotism of her fellow-citizens."
In other cities, notices equally kind and complimentary
appeared after the lectures of Mrs. Stearns; and her example now remains before the American public a proof of
how much good may be effected by one loyal, accomplished,
25
885 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
and fearless woman, whose time and whose talents are
devoted, without reserve, in a holy cause.
The advantage to their sex from such instances as Mrs.
Hoge and Mrs. Stearns is very great.   The boundaries
which public opinion had placed on the legitimate activities
and the proper sphere of woman have been enlarged.  They
have shown that a wife, a mother, or a sister is never more
truly lovely than when she pleads,. even before a large and
promiscuous assembly, the sacred cause of humanity, presenting reasons that flow from the fountains of charity, and
descend from the celestial heights of religion.
386
k.. 
AIRS. HARRIET W. F. HAWLEY.
A MONG the many thousands of patriotic women of the
North, who earnestly desired, from the first moment
of the great struggle, to take such part in it as a woman
might, whose whole soul was in the issues of the conflict,
was Mrs. Harriet W. F. Hiawley, a native of Guilford,
Connecticut.  When  Sumter was fired on, her husband,
Joseph R. Hawley, was the editor of the Hartford Evening
Press. He at once laid down his penl, and enlisted for the
war, -the first one enrolled in the first volunteer company that was accepted by the state, and became its captain
before it was on its way to Washingtoln.
During the first campaign no opportunity was afforded
Mrs. Hawley to participate              directly in the glorious work
going forward, other than that given to every woman at
h    o     m    e, who labored in the work of equippi ng the soldiers
f       o        r the field, and forwarding, to the m suc h  comforts as were
indispensable to the sick and wounded. Indeed, it was not
supposed by Mrs. Hawley's friends that she would ever
be                         able to do aaythig,  more than home work in the war.
Wl     i      t      h a slight  frame, a constitution n ot stro ng, health never
f    i    rm, an organization delicate and nervous, she seemed ent i r e l y unfitted to endure hardships. B    ut an  indomitable
spirit continually urged, and in the fall of 1862 her long                                                  (387) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
hoped-for opportunity came.   Her husband was in the
Department of the South, and in November she obtained
permission to go to Beaufort, South Carolina, with the
intention of teaching the colored people, whose first cry in
freedom was for the primer.  But circumstances, and the
necessities of the sick and wounded soldiers, directed her
into another field of labor, in which she continued, with
little intermission, until the war ended.   She became a
regular visitor at the hospitals in Beaufort.  Of her services
here and the like at other places, it is not necessary to
speak in detail; the pages of this volume sufficiently show
the nature of the duties of the noble women who devoted
themselves to hospital work.
In January, 1863, she went to Fernandina,  Florida,
where her husband- then colonel, afterwards brevet
major-general, and since governor of Colnnecticut- was
placed in command.  Here, and afterwards at St. Augustinie, she was a regular visitor of the post and regimental
hospitals, remaining until November, when she rejoined her
husband on St. Helena Island, South Carolina, to which he
had returned from the siege of Charleston.  During the
winter, frequently, and as often as her strength would permnit, she visited the post hospital at St. Helena, and the
general hospitals at Beaufort and Hilton Head, especially
exerting herself when the ship-loads of wounded men
arrived, after the battle of Olustee, in February.
In April, 1864, when the Tenlth army corps went north
to join Butler's expedition up the James, greatly desirous
to be near the regiment and brigade of her husband, in the
individual welfare of the men composing which her sym
388 
MRS. HARRIET W. F. HAWLEY.
pathies were strongly enlisted, she endeavored to procure a
situation as attendant or nurse at Chesapeake Hospital,
to which the wounded of that expedition were likely to be
sent.  Failing to do so, she went to Washington, and was
placed in charge of a ward in Armory Square Hospital.
This hospital was at that time one of the most arduous places
of labor in the country, besides being, from  its low situation, subject to malarious diseases.  Standing near the
Potomac, it usually received the most severely wounded, who arrived by boats from below and could not be
moved far.
Mrs. Hawley  reached there  the  morning  after  the
wounded begaan to arrive from the battles of the Wilderness.  Her ward was in the armory itself; it was always
large, and for a time contained more patients than any
other — ninety-seven during those dreadful April days.
To add to the horrors of her ward, it ha4 no separate operating, room, and surgical operations were necessarily performed within it.  The poor fellows who arrived there, the
mutilated wrecks of that fierce campaign, were so exhaustedcl by their marching before, and by the long journey
after they were wounded, that they died very rapidly.  One
day forty-eight were carried out of the hospital, dying,
with singular regularity, about one in every half hour.
The entire hospital was calculated to accommodate about
nine hundred, but it was made to take in over fourteen
hundred for a time.
Surrounded by such scenes, a daily witness of the
results of the terrible Virginia campaign of 1864, Mrs.
Hawley lived in this hospital, in charge of the ward
389 
WOMEN OF THIE WAR.
assigned her, for four months; months of the severest labor,
taxing her utmost strength, and drawing upon her deepest sympathies, and that, too, in a climate peculiarly trying
to a Northerner. In September her overtaxed energies
gave way, and she was forced, by illness, to relinquish her
charge. She returned, however, to the same ward in November, and remained in the hospital until March, 1865.
The writer visited this hospital in the May following, and
found Mrs. Hawley's name a cherished one there, many a
poor fellow, lying on his weary bed, speaking of her kindness and devotion with beaming face and tears in his eyes.
After the capture of Wilmingtonl, Brigadier-General Hawley was assigned to the command of the south-west portion
of North Carolina, headquarters at that city. Thither Mrs.
Hawley followed him shortly, and there encountered new
horrors of the war of which she had already so much sad
experience.  When Wilmington surrendered, it was in a
shockingly filthy condition, destitute of supplies, of medicines, of comforts for the sick.  The conquering army
which entered it was stripped for marching and fighting,
and poorly supplied with what the city so shortly neededhospital stores and clothing for the destitute. When Mrs.
Hawley arrived, nine thousand Union prisoners had just
been delivered there, recently released from Andersonville
and Florence. The North remembers in what sorry plight
they were, all of them in immediate need of food and
clothing, and three thousand of them subjects of hospital
treatment. As if this were not enough, there came also a
motley crowd of refilgees, which had hung upon the skirts
of Sherman's march - old men, women, and children,white
390 
MRS. HARRIET W. F. HAWLEY.
and black, dirty, ragged, hungry, helpless. Such a colnglomeration crowded into the little city-  never a healthy
place- soon bred a pestilence, a sort of jail or typhus
fever.
The medical officers exerted themselves to the utmost;
the Union citizens and all good people contributed liberally
such clothing as they could spare, and what delicacies they
had for the sick. But what could they do to alleviate the
suffering, of so many thousands?  The fever increased in
virulence, and those attacked died rapidly. At one time
there were four thousand sick soldiers, including a few
wounded from Sherman's army, in the extemporized hospitals of the city, the large dwellings and the churches. Supplies could not be obtained, and it was some time before
even one clean garment could be given to each released
prisoner; and meantime disease increased, and deaths multiplied.  The chief of the medical stuff died, and others
were seriously sick: of five professional lady nurses fiom
the North, three sickened, and two died. One of the chaplains died, and another was  severely ill; and among the
detailed soldier nurses the pestilence was decidedly worse
than any battle- they died by scores. It is needless to say
that Mrs. Hawley exerted herself to the utmost to mitigate
the sufferings by which she was surrounded. She organized
the efforts of the women who would lend their aid, superintended the making of garments, went among the refugees and
sought out the most distressed, visited the hospitals, shunning no danger, not even the small pox. Some idea of the
condition of the town, and of the labors thrown upon the
few there who were competent to improve it, may be gained
391 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
from the following extract from a private letter, written
about this time by Mrs. Hawley, in the freedom of friendly
correspondence, with no thought of its publication.  She
wrote:  "You know that over nine thousand of our prisoners
were delivered to us here; and no human tongue or pen
can describe the horrible condition which they were in.
Starving to death, covered with vermin, with no clothing
but the filthy rags they had worn during their whole imprisoninent -a period of from five to twenty months; cramped
by long sitting in one position, so that they could not
straighten their limbs; their feet rotted off! O  God! I
cannot even nowv endure to speak of it.
"Of course they brought the jail fever with them -it
could not be otherwise; yet they must be fed, and cleansed,
and clothed, and cared for. There were no hospital accommodations here worth mentioniing.  There were not doctors
enough, and those here overworked themselves, and caught
the fever and died.  Buildings of all sorts were converted
into temporary hospitals, and the nurses (enlisted men)
fell sick at the rate of fifty a day. The chaplains worked
as only Christian men can work;  and they sickened too.
Chaplain Eaton (Seventh Connecticut volunteers) died, a
real martyr. Mr. Tiffany (Sixthi Connecticut) has barely
struggled through a most terrible attack of the fever, and
is slowly recovering. Another, whose name I cannot recall,
is still very low, and can hardly be expected to live. Three
out of the five lady nurses sent by Mrs. Dix have been
very ill, and one, Miss Kimball, died this morning, resigned
and happy, as such a womani could not fail to be, yet leav
392 
MRS. HARRIET W. F. HAWLEY.
ing many friends to mourn for her, and a place here that no
one can fill.
"Dr. Buzzell, the general medical officer, and one who
cannot be too highly spoken of, both as a man and a physician, died of the fever last week. Dr. Palmer has since
followed him; but the terrible list of those dead and still
sick of the fever is too long for me to try to write it. It is
only within the last five days that they have received any
hospital supplies: previous to that time many of the sick
men were lying on straw spread on the floor, although the
Union citizens have given and done all in their power.
WVhat could a few families de, from their private supplies,
towards furnishing three thousand nine hundred men with
beds and bedding?  Besides these, there were the convalescent ones to be clothed. Thank God! the vessel that
the Sanitary Commission sent came soon, with nine thousand
shirts and drawers, so that when I first saw them, they had
at least so much in the way of clothing.
We got possession of twelve hundred yards of cotton
cloth and a bale of cotton. I called a meeting of the
benevolent ladies of the place. The Sanitary Commission
gave us thread, and in a week's time the materials were
made up: one hundred and thirty-eight pillow-cases, one
hundred and fifty-three pillows, eighty-four bed sackls, and
as many sheets.  And now the hospitals are all tolerably
well supplied.
"Of course many have been sent North,- all who were
able to go, - and many have died on the road; yet there
are still many here.  And, as if this were not misery
enough for one poor little city, Sherman sent here six
393 
WOMEN OF TIHE WAR.
thousand refugees -black and white, old men, women,
children, and babies, with nothing but what they could
carry on their backs, or, as in a few cases, drag in a little
old mule cart.
"And these poor wretches must be housed and fed, with
the city already crowded, and the fever spreading among
the citizens. It is impossible for you to imagine the misery
which has stared me in the face at every step since I have
been here. I can find no words to describe it. Why, this
very afternoon I carried food and wine to a woman who
had been lying sick, for three days, on a little straw in an
old wagon, in an open shed, discovered accidentally by one
of our officers. Of course this is not an every-day case,
but it is a wonder that it is not. Many of these refugees
have been sent North, and many more will be; but the
mere fact of their being thus transported involves a vast
amount of labor, which must mostly fall upon the soldiers;
and the garrison here is small, as small as it can be kept,
and do the necessary work and guard duty.  And, besides
all this, the city has been shamefully neglected for many
months, and it is fearfully dirty, and there is but a small
number of teams and wagons to do so great an amount of
scavenger work.
"It did, and still does, sometimes, look very hopeless
here, on all sides. You at the North will never be able to
conceive or believe the true condition of our prisoners.
You may see all the pictures, and read all the accounts,
and believe, or think you believe, every word of them, and
then you will have but a faint idea. Men have lain on the
ground here dying, with the verImin literally swarming, in
394 
MRS. HARRIET W. F. HAWLEY.
steady paths, up and down their bodies, as ants go in lines
about their ant-hills. One poor fellow, a sergeant, died in
the house of a kind lady here, whose limbs were so cramped
by long sitting, through weakness, that they could not be
straightened, even when he died, so that his coffin had to
be made with the cover shaped like a tent, or house roof,
to accommodate his knees. Women were afraid to walk
over the plank sidewalks where some of the prisoners had
been congregated for a little time, through fear of vermin.
Men who had once been educated and cultivated, with fine
minds, were reduced to idiocy -  to utter and hopeless
imbecility.
"More than forty men, whose feet, or portions of them,
had rotted off, left on the steamer yesterday. I do not
know how many more such cases there had been among
them; but these men I saw. Think of it! feet so rotted
away that the surgeons cut them off, with the scissors above
the ankle! Has God any retribution for those who inflicted
such suffering? Has their country any rewards for the men
who suffered thus, month after month, rather than turn
traitor- rather than deny the old flag?
"To-day we have been  firing salutes and ringing the
bells for the capture of Richmond.  You should have heard
the hoarse voices of the boys in the hospitals, as they tried
to cheer when they heard the bells this noon. J stood still
in the street, and cried like a child when I heard them; and
it all rushed over my mind at once how much it meant to
them! "
By the arrival of supplies and aid from the North, the
exertions of the military authorities in cleaning the city,
395 
WOMEN OF THE WVAR.
and the shipment North of the prisoners, and many of the
sick and wounded, the disease was at length subdued, and
by the latter part of June, though the town was unhealthy,
the worst was over.
In July Mrs. Hawley accompanied her husband to Richmond, the latter being appointed chief of staff to MajorGeneral Terry, and, quartered in the spacious and comfortably furnished mansion of the filgitive chief of the
rebellion, she enjoyed a most needed rest from the
labors and turmoil of the camp and the hospital.   Thus
the summer passed, and she looked forward to a speedy
return home. But the full price of her presence among the
exciting scenes of the war was not yet paid. In October,
while returning from the battle-ground at Five Forks,
whither she had gone, with an uncle, to find the grave of
his son (Captain Parmelee, of the First Connecticut cavalry),
the ambulance in which she rode was overturned, and she
received an injury on her head, which for a long time made
her life doubtful.   Her whole nervous system sustained
an almost irreparable shock, and she continues an inlvalid.
Such is a brief sketch of one of the many noble women
of the country who have foiught the good fight, sustained
by a pure patriotism, the story of whose sacrifices will
always be sweet and sacred in our annals.
40
396 
MISS M3ARIA M. C. HALL.
T   no time since civilization commenced on this conti      nent, has so loud a call been made on the patriotism
of the people as in the spring and summer of 1861. The
government was assailed by dangers new, vast, and undefined. The people of eleven states, with a unanimity that
seelmed appalling, had discarded the old love of national
union in which Americans had been educated;  and this
languid fealty to the constitution was by no means confined
to the seceding states.
No community was more agitated, by diverse sympathies,
and distracted by fierce partisanship, than the society of the
national capital.  MIany there were, of both sexes, a nuimber amounting almost to a majority at one time, whose
southern sympathies were neither moderate nor disguised.
Others, again, felt their whole natures stirred with a pure
and holy zeal to do all things, and suffer all things, to sustain the government just as it was bequeathed to us, and
our national ensign, "with not a stripe erased or polluted,
nor a single star obscured."
Born in Washington, and reared amid the stirring and
historic associations of that political metropolis, Miss Hall
approved, with her whole soul, the efforts that the government was disposed to make for the preservation of every                                                 (397) 
WOMEN OF llE WAR.
thing most dear and sacred in American nationality.  This
patriotic sentiment took the form of an earnest desire to
make a personal consecration of herself onl the altar of
country.
Her father was too far advanced in years to take the field
as a soldier. Brother she had none of an age to shoulder
a musket.  She had read of Florence Nightinlgale, and the
noble work she did in the Crimean war; and, in the enthusiasm of a spirit naturally strong, and capable of intense
devotion to an object large enough to call out all its powers,
she planned for herself a course of action, and a career of
usefulness, that would in effect be reproducing the Crimean
heroine under our flag, and in the hospitals of our great
civil conflict.
WVho shall say how many noble aspirations and unselfish
plans have been inspired by the golden record of that
English girl?  By her it was proved that youth and grace,
education and gentleness, charming manners and winnling
person, so far from unfitting woman for a life of effective
beneficence among homeless and suffering men, only render
her presence and attentions all the more powerful for good,
by the union of loveliness with efficiency, and by combining
the graces of girlhood with the dignity of the matron.
"Day unto day her dainty hands
Make Life's soiled temples clean,
And there's a wake of glory where
Her spirit pure hath been.
"At midnight, through that shadow land,
Her living face doth gleam;
The dying kiss her shadow, and
The dead smile in their dream."
398 
MISS MARIA M. C. HALL.
Thus wrote one of Englanld's sweetest poets of the noblest
of British heroines; and the lines might have been written
with equal justice and propriety of Miss Hall's labors, from
the time she washed the blood and dust from the faces of
those who fought at Manassas, till the last of the long
procession of famished wretches from the Andersonlville
stockade had filed through the wards of the Annapolis
Hospital.
From the summer of 1861 till the summer of 1865four long,, stern years -Miss Hall thought of nothing, and
cared for nothing, but how she could be most useful to the
suffering defenders of the national Union.  No patriot who
shouldered his musket at the successive calls of our president, felt himself more thoroughly committed to the cause,
or was more determined to march and fight, so long as
marching, and fighting remained to be done. AWhile there
were wounded soldiers to be nursed,'or famished prisoners
to be fed, - while there remained a hospital that could be
made home-like by the ministry of woman, or cheered by
her song, or illuminated by her smile, -there migiht be
found for her noble work, happy usefulness, and a blessed
mission.
To her, with as great force as to any who thus devoted
themselves to lives of loyal charity, can be applied the
words which an old Elngllish author has written-of women
in general: "To the honor, to the eternal honor, of the sex
be it recorded, that in the path of duty no sacrifice is to
them too high or too dear. Nothing is with them impossible but to shrink  from  love, honor, innocence, and
religion. The voice of pleasure or of power may pass
399 
IVO.wMEI  OF THE WAR.
by unheeded; but the voice of affliction, never! The chamnber
of the sick, the pillow of the dying, the vigils of the dead,
the altars of religion, never missed the presence or the
sympathies of woman.  Timid though she be, and so deli cate that the winds of heaven may not too roughly visit her,
on such occasions she loses all sense of danger, and assumes
a preternatural courage, which knows not and fears not
consequences."
In the summer of 1861, when those who were wounded
at Bethel and Manassas were first thrown upon the hands
of the medical department, there was a disposition very
much to disparage, and practically to exclude from army
labor, all females who were not very plain, very practical,
and at least thirty years of age. Miss Dix, whose long
humanitarian labors had entitled her opinion to much weight,
was clear that army nurses should be simply kind-hearted
and efficient.  If they were sufficiently advanced in years
to have sons or grandsons in the army, that circumstance
was an advantage in their favor whenever application was
made to be permitted to labor for the soldier.
Miss Hall found all these views as to the proper character
of hospital nurses adverse to her own employment.   She
was young, cultivated, and enthusiastic; but she was resolute in her intention.
Mrs. Fales, of Washington city, was a lady who, during
the long struggle, interested herself ill the soldier, and to
her Miss Hall applied  for permission to visit the sick
and wounded.  The first request was denied.  Mrs. Fales
shared the views of Miss Dix, that youth, grace, and talent
were poor recommendations for a hospital nurse.  She
400 
MISS MIARLI'i. C. HALL.
tried to discourage the warm-hearted girl by telling, her that
the work to be done was very plain, very practical, and
sometimes repulsive; that the men were dirty, and needled
washing; and their hair was all in tangles, and must be
combed out and brushed; that they were very hungry, and
cared for nothing but to get something good to eat.  But all
these representations served rather to stimulate than to abate
her desire to go and work among them. It was only more
clear, from Mrs. Fales's account, that these poor fellows
needed nursing;  and the kind-hearted woman at length
yielded to the earnest wishes of the noble girl, and took
her to the Indiana Hospital, which was established in an
unfinished wing of the Patent Office.  "Now, girls," said
she to Miss Hall and her sister, as she opened the door of
one of the wards, "here they are, and everything to be done
for them. You will find work in plenty."
The discouragements and annoyances of hospital labor,
as Miss Hall found it, had not been overstated by Mrs.
Fales. The surgeons afforded few or no facilities for the
successful discharge of her duties; and for some time she
was rather tolerated as a young lady who had a whim to be
indulged, than appreciated as a true and earnest worker.
She labored for nearly a year at the Indiana Hospital, being
much of the time a solitary visitor, and all the year the
only regular and persistent worker.   For  a part of the
time, rather than be turned out of the hospital as a volunteer, after the general order to that effect, she was enrolled
as "nurse," and drew army pay. This service at the Indiana Hospital lasted for a year, from July, 1861, to July,
1862.  It was never pleasant, nor in any respect flattering.
26
401 
WOMEN OF THIE WAR.
She had no position of command. She was not, as afterwards, the head and centre of a platoon of hospital nurses,
all acting under her advice, and subject to her direction.
But the duties were assumed in a spirit of genuine loyalty
and self-sacrifice, and they were carried through with uncomplaining, fidelity and patience to the end.
In the summer of 1862, Miss Hall, with many other
ladies, bore a part in the fatigues and disappointments that
attended the close of the Peninsula campaign. She went
to Harrison's Landing on the hospital transport Daniel
Webster No. 2, and at one time remained there for two
weeks. In that position she met and cooperated with that
indefatigable and most admirable army worker, Mrs. Harris,
and conceived the highest admiration for a character where
the zeal of the Christian missionary seemed to be united
with the keenest insight and the most practical sense.
For a week or two after her return from Harrison's Landilmg, Miss Hall was at her home in Washington, having
made an arrangement to go out with Mrs. Harris as soon
as there should be an urgent call from the field.
In a few days the battle at Antietam Creek was fought;
and almost before the result of that long and bloody struggle was known, she received the telegram from Mrs. Harris,
Meet me at McClellan's headquarters."  In prompt obedience to the call, she hurried to the front, finding much
difficulty, unattended as she was, in penetrating the lines,
and was unsuccessful in reaching either the commanding,
general or her friend and fellow-laborer.  As nighlt was
closing over the confused and bloody field, she found herself at a hospital where most of the wounded were rebels,
402
-t 
MISS MARIA M. C. HALL.
whom the rude fortunes of war had thrown helpless upon
the hands of the Federal surgeons.  The surgeon in charge,
who very much needed assistance, begged Miss Hall to
remain and aid him. This she was reluctant to do, both
on account of her desire to find Mrs. Harris, and because
she preferred to work for the loyal sufferers.  But these
objections were soon overcome, and she entered upon her
work.
One of her first experiences in this hospital was quite
touching.  It was on the morning after her arrival.  As she
entered one of the wards the usual sight met her eye. A
long row of narrow cots, with only space enough between
to admit the passage of an attendant and surgeon; men
lying very quietly, and nothing in their dress, manner, or
language to indicate which side they had taken in the recent
bloody struggle.  She talked a little while to a wounded
Union boy, and gave him some writing materials.  She
then spoke to another sufferer, and served him in a similar
manner.  On the next cot was lying, very quietly, a man
of a settled and resolute countenance.  "Would you like
to have writing materials also?" said Miss Hall to him.
"It wouldn't be of any use, ma'am," was his quiet reply.
" Why not?" said she; "are you wounded in the arm?"
"Yes," said he, "in the right shoulder; but that's not the
only reason." "Perhaps I can write for you; tell me what
to say, and I will write it down."  "It would be of no use,"
was his reply. " Why not? Isn't there somne one that would
like very much to hear from you?"  "Yes, indeed; I have
an old mother, who would be very glad to hear from me;
but no letter would reach her now." "Yes, I think it
403 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
would," she replied.  "Uncle Sam can talke -letters anywhere, and he gives special attention to the letters that his
boys write." His face now grew more sober than before,
and the eyes were fixed directly on the ceiling.  "Uncle
Sam isn't likely to do much for me," said he, slowly; and
then, unwilling for a gir} to see a tear upon the cheek of a
soldier, he drew the sheet over his face, and added, in a
half-smotheredcl voice, "my mother lives in South Carolina."
She went at once to the surgeon in charge, and asked if
letters could not be sent to South Carolina by flag of truce?
Certainly, Miss Hall," said he; "there is no difficultv at
all about it, and I will send as many as you are willing to
write." There was, after that, no discrimination made by
her.  A wounded soldier was a suffering man, no matter
whether he had fought under Lee or McClellan. Miss Hall
remained at this hospital more than a week, and then went
to the hospital of French's corps, where Mrs. Harris was at
work. Here she continued another week.
In the early part of October, all the field hospitals that
had been established in and around Antietam were broken
up, and the wounded conveyed to the General Hospital at
Smoketown, then in charge of Dr. Vanderkieft. To this
place Miss Hall went, and labored for nearly nine months.
The special diet department had been commenced and
systematized, in a very thorough and admirable -manner,
by Miss Tyson, of Baltimore, who, however, on account
of failing health, was obliged to retire from the field.
Not long, after Miss Ha]l's arrival there, two  very excellent and efficient ladies came to her aid from Philadelphia -Mrs. Lee and Mrs. Husband. Between these
404 
MISS MARIA M. C. HALL.
three ladies the hospital was divided into sections, each
having from two to three hundred patients under her
charge. Miss Hall's duties here were at once arduous and
monotonous; but as they were noble and beneficent, she
was more than contented.  In the midwinter MIrs. Lee and
Mrs. Husband went down to the front, at Falmouth; and
from January till May, 1863, when this hospital was discontinued, Miss Hall was, for the greater part of the time,
the only lady in regular attendance. For a few weeks, in
the summer of 1863, she was at home. When Gettysburg
was fought she was very solicitous to reach the front, and
engage in field service; but not meeting with any encouragement, she yielded to the earnest solicitations of Dr.
Vanderkieft, who, having become thoroughly impressed
with the excellence of her service, and her fine administrative talent at Antietam, begged her to come to Annapolis,
where he was in charge of a General Hospital, and co6perate with him in his labors there. Although much preferring service at the front, she went to Annapolis, and for
two years- from midsummer of 1863 till midsummer of
1865 - her labors there were incessant, her vigilance unlceasing, and the executive ability which she displayed was such
as to command the admiration of every person in the corps
of hospital workers, and of all who visited the establishment.  Much of this success is to be attributed tothe entire
appreciation and hearty approval which she always einjoyed
of Dr. Vanderkieft, the surgeon in charge. Upon her first
going there, the doctor gave her, as he called it, a separate
commnand, making her superintendent of section number
five, embracing all the hospital tents in the parade ground.
405 
WOMEN OF THE'WAR.
Her immediate assistant here was Miss Helen M. Noye, of
Buffalo, N. Y.  Miss Noye was a person who fell far short
of Miss Dix's idea of a hospital nurse, being very much
under thirty years of age, enthusiastic, graceful in person,
and winning in manners. But Miss Hall found her a hearty
worker and cheerful assistant.
During the time that she was in charge of section number
five, Mrs. Tyler, of Baltimore, was lady superintendent of
the wards in the building. A very earnest laborer, thinking, nothing done while anything remained undone, her
duties wore upon her health to such an extent that
in the spring of 1864 she was  obliged to  resign her
position and retire. Miss Hall then became lady superintenldent of the entire hospital. At times there were
more than four thousand persons under her care, and
although she had from ten to twenty assistants, to whom
separate wards were assigned, her labors of visitation were
as unremitting as ever.  Her mind seemed to be in all
parts of the hospital, and she recollected the peculiarities
of almost every case. Her judgment as to the fitness of
her assistants was unerring, assigning to each such duties
or such wards as she was best fitted for. During the
latter part of the time, a great number of the patients
were those wretched victims of rebel malignity who had
come out alive from that forever infamous concentration
of horrors, the Andersonville stockade.
MIiss Hall describes the condition of these unhappy men,
when they were first received at Annapolis, as in the last
degree pitiable and appalling. Sometimes, in looking at
them, she would find herself involuntarily carrying her
406' 
MISS MARIA M. C. IIALL.
hand to her cheek, to see if it were possible that their
flesh was like hers, human and vitalized. The combined
effect of starvation, cold, sickness, and filth, had, in many
cases, parched the skin and flesh, so that they looked like
mummies, that by some strange witchery had been evoked
from the catacombs. " They seemed," she says, " to have
come from some strange outer world, some horrible land
of dimness and groans;' a land of darkness, where no light
is;' a world where the comforts, the sympathies, and the
hopes of common life are utterly excluded." The minds
of many of these poor creatures had been temporarily, at
least, crushed by the fearful ordeal. They seemed like
persons awaking from some long and horrible nightmare,
and would say, in their plain; but touching way, "Boys, does
'pear strange - don't it? - to see folks moving'bout that
are white and clean? "  "I declare, boys, it's like a streak
of daylight to see a woman moving about here." "Boys,"
said she, one day, to a group of them, " how did you live
through it? I would have supposed that the last one of
you would have died in such a place." Instantly there was
a chorus of answering voices, "Because  we were  right,
Miss Hall -because we were right, and knew we were;
that's what kept us alive." Then a grim old Tennesseealn,
with a shaggy, weather-beaten mat of yellow beard, added,
"'Twas the flag that kept us up; if we'd been rebels, we
should all have perished to death."
The effect of this life upon the bad was to make them
worse. A returned prisoner was cursing one day in the
hospital, and the surgeon reproved him, saying such language was not permitted there. "I don't care," said he,
407 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
" But I should suppose that you would respect God if you
didn't respect men."  "I'm not afraid of God, nor of hell,"
said he; "I have lived through that stockade, and I can
live through hell."
Others, again, were brought to reformation by their sufferings. Miss Hall was one day passing by a cot of a poor,
little, famished-looking boy, who turned a bright, fine eye
upon her, and seemed to wish she would speak to him.
"I think it has done me good," said he; "I think that I
shall be a better boy now that I've got out." "This is a
very good time to begin," said  she.        I have begun
already," he replied, pulling a little Testament from under
the edge of his mattress; "I promised my God, that
if ever I did get out from that horrible place, I'd never
forget him any more, and I read this every day."
408 
MRS. GOVERNOR HARVEY.
T will be a long time before the people of Wisconsin
will forget the thrill of horror which pervaded the entire
state when the sad news was flashed over the wires that
their honored and beloved governor, Lewis P. Harvey,
was drowned at Savannah, Tennessee, just after having
completed his noble labors in behalf of the Wisconsin
soldiers who had been wounded at, the battle of Pittsburg
Landing, on the 6th and 7th of April, 1862. Just in the
prime of a life much of which had been spent in honorable
public positions, trusted and honored as few men in the
state were, with a bright future before him, and without a
blemish on his past career, it seemed an inexplicable and
bitter providence that removed him, by a sudden casualty,
just as he was returning with the blessings, heartfelt and
feelingly expressed, of the sick and wounded soldiers, to
whom he had been a very angel of consolation.
Deep as the affliction was to the state, and universally
as it was expressed, there was one to whom it was almost
beyond endurance -his devoted wife, thus suddenly and
cruelly bereft.  What her trial was no one can tell; but its
result showed that she bore it as few women would, and
proved her worthy of the husband she had lost. As he
had fallen a martyr through his devotion to the welfare of
(409) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
our soldiers, so she would devote her energies to the same
noble cause.
WVithin a short time after the loss of her husband, she
asked and received the appointment of state agent, to
visit Wisconsin soldiers in the field and in the hospitals.
The state had but a few of these agents, but they were
generally very faithful laborers, and accomplished an immeuse amount of good. None of them, however, were
able to do as much as Mrs. Harvey. Among all the higher
officers of the western armies her position and the story of
her terrible affliction were known, and to her favors were
granted and privileges given which no others could obtain.
Besides her ability, her experience in public life, her manners, and her determined energy added to the influence she
otherwise possessed.
To us there is hardly a more beautiful or romantic episode of the war than the army career of this noble woman,
thus waiving her widow's right of pious mourning, leaving
all the comforts of home, and devoting herself for years to
the care of our sick and wounded defenders.  Her purpose
once made, there was no faltering till the end, and out of
the depths of her own great sorrow she gathered strength
to console thousands of afflicted ones, to whom she was
mother, guardian, and protector. Of the details of her
work we are, unfortunately, unable to speak. ~We can
only write from what we have heard and read, and that
without anything more distinct than a general knowledge
and recollection.
The story of her army life has, throughout, the same
general features.  It was a constant succession of lalbors
410 
MRS. GOVERNOR HARVEY.
involving no ordinary endurance, risks, unpleasantness, and
care.  During the last three years of the war, wherever
there was the greatest need for her services, - whether up
the Tennessee or the Cumberland, at Vicksburg,, Memphis,
or Helena, on the White River or the Arkansas, in the
field or ill the hospitals, -there Mrs. Harvey was to be
found, energetically working with her whole might for our
suffering soldiers.  A friend who knew her long before the
war, and watched her labors in the army with the greatest
interest, has told us something of the manner in which
she worked.
He says that he never saw man or woman in the army
who was more entirely inwrapped in the noble work she had
undertaken. Her earnestness was something extraordinary,
and made everything yield before it. Were there difficulties in the way of providing necessaries or comforts for
the men ill hospital, she would insist on them in such a
way that every one either became imbued with her spirit or
for the time yielded as before aln irresistible force. They
must be had, even if red-tape were cut a hundred times.
Was a boat needed to remove the sick from an unhealthy
place, the military authorities were asked for it, in the
name of humanity, in such a manner that a refusal was
well niigh-impossible.
Officers of the better class so confided in her judgment,
and so honored her philanthropic heroism, that they cheerfully gave her what to others would have been denied.
Those who were disposed to deny her requests soon came
to learn her persistence and determination, and, as well,
that she could and would appeal to the powers above them,
411 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
generally with success.  Our informant has heard of more
than one case where the sick and wounded soldiers were
rescued from the bad management of subordinate officers
in charge of hospitals through her strenuous efforts. The
same qualities which gave her such power for good in the
army were of the greatest service to the soldiers in another
way.  Her representations to the governor- a noble and
worthy successor to her husband's office - were always
heeded, and the action of the executive was based on
them, as all the Wisconsin officers well knew.
By the bedside of hundreds of dying soldiers she was a
minister of Christian consolation, her very life a most
eloquent proof of the reality of the faith she would have
them accept.  She was preacher and mother in one, and
the two sacred characters were beautifully blended. It was
her rare combination of womanly refinement and softness,
of an earnest and loving Christian -spirit, and of unusual
business and administrative qualities that enabled her to
perform a work such as we believe was accomplished by no
one else in similar circumstances in the army.   Others
were equally devoted, earnest, and enduring; but in none
was such a variety of qualifications so united.
The close of the war brought no change in her purpose.
Its close did not terminate the countless sufferings that grew
out of it, nor the need of philanthropic effort fir the sufferers. Of all these, the class that were most innocent,
most helpless, and most needing help, were "the orphans
of the war;" and in their behalf Mrs. Harvey began a new
work of love, as soon as the fighting had virtually ceased.
A  friend, who was an officer in our army, and long an
412 
MRS. GOVERNOR UIARVEY.
intimate acquaintance of Mrs. Harvey,  met her in May,
1865, at Memphis, as she was about begiinning this work,
and gives us a few interesting facts.
He writes, "I met Mrs. Harvey on board the steamer
Luminary, at Memphis, in the latter part of May, 1865.
I had not seen her since her husband's death, and was at
first sadly struck by the great change in her appearance.
I had known her as a leader of the best society at the state
capital, accomplished, full of buoyant life and spirits;
not at all gay, but always cheerful; interested in, and
thoroughly understanding, the state and national politics;
fresh, vigorous, and in the enjoyment of life's best gift.
She had, in the few years of her affliction and unceasing
labors, become almost entirely changed, as it first seemed
to me.  There was much more than the mourning suit to
show how her great loss had borne upon her. Subdued,
yet with no loss of latent energy, and, altogether indifferent
to aught but the work to which she had devoted herself,
she appeared at least a dozen years older than when I had
seen her last, in 1862; and well she might, for in the interval she had compressed the work of a lifetime. She had
with her a half dozen young  children-'orphans of the
war'- whom she had brought with her from Vicksburg,
not knowing, how she would provide for them, but trusting
that provision would in some way be made. They had
fallen into her care, and had no one else in the wide world
to look out for them. That was sufficient to establish their
claim on her protection. They were to be the first inmates
of her Home for like helpless ones, which she had then
determined to found at the state capital. There was some
413 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
thing very beautiful to me in the sight of this woman, so
bereaved by the war, taking home with her these little sufferers by its calamities, from the once stronghold of those
who brought it on. She went to Wisconsin, and appealed,
through the press and personally in behalf of her project,
with such effect, that the purpose and prayer of her heart
have become a visible and beneficent fact. The Home has
been established. Mrs. Harvey is its efficient superintendent, and is to-day as assiduous in her labors as she was in
the field. She could not be more so."
414 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
ISS BRADLEY'S work of charity and self-sacrifice
commenced on the 1st of September, 1861, a few
weeks after the first battle on Manlassas Plains. The
sufferings of our sick and wounded had not then sent their
strong appeal to the hearts of the noble and the charitable
all over the land. She went out to seek as well as to save.
Her first position in the army was as nurse in the Third
Maine volunteers. She left East Cambridge, in Massachusetts, on the 28th of August, and entered upon that long
series of labors for the soldiers - labors that varied with the
demands of the hour, and with the shifting scenes of war;
labors which took in the whole welfare of our suffering
patriots, and met their calls for aid in every form.
Her early experience in the army was by no means
repulsive.   She  was fortunate in  her associations, for
the colonel of the Third Maine was at that time 0. O.
Howard, that Christian gentleman and Christian soldier,
the Havelock of the war.  She found the jouriney over the
road, where so many of our brave men had so recently
passed, pleasant and full of interest. Arriving in Washington, she started at four in the afternoon for the scene of
her duty.
"Very pleasant," she writes, "did I find the ride along
(415) 
WOTOMEN OF TIIE WAR.
the banks of the beautiful Potomac, now studded with the
white tents of our army, and protected by forts Runyon,
Jackson, and Ellsworth, the latter being near our encampment.  Twilight found me  safe with the regimenlt, and
surrounded by old familiar faces.
It was tea time, and the band was  playing  a lively
national air. I was ushered into the tent by our worthy
surgeon, and introduced to Colonel Howard, the lieutenantcolonel, the adjutant, Mrs. Sampson the matron, and Miss
Graves, who, like myself, is a nurse in the hospital.
"When we were seated at the table Colonel Howard
meekly bowed his head and asked our Father's blessing
upon the food before Lus.  What, thought I, is this the
rough life of the camp, which has so often been pictured
to me? It reminds me more of a camp-meeting, only more
quiet."
Her work commenced almost immediately upon her arrival, on the 1st of September. "I shall not soon forget
that day," she has written in her hospital journal.  "Dr.
Paliner called at my tent in the morning,- a bright, sunshiny Sabbath morning,- and asked me if I would like to
accompany him through the hospital tents.  My hat was
quickly donned, and we started. He was intendilng, to
select some of the sickest ones, that morning,, to be sent to
the General Hospital at Alexandria.
There were four large hospital tents, filled with fever
cases, resulting from exposure at the long-to-be-remembered
battle of Bull Run. They were lying on mattresses placed on
the ground.  How sick they looked! No comfortable beds
or soft pillows.  It was terrible to see! We passed through
416 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
the first tent, the doctor prescribing for each in turn. In
the second were sufferers very delirious. These the surgeon
proposed sending to Alexandria. As we stood by the
side of one poor fellow, I spoke to him. He looked up
with a lost expression, as though he never heard that voice
before.' Would you like to have anything?' said I.  He
looked up wildly, as before, and supposing that he was to
start on some journey, said,'I would like to see my
mother and my sisters before I go home.' I burst into
tears, and said,'Please, doctor, do not send him away, but
let me take care of him for his mother and sisters until he
goes home!' for I knew by his looks he could live but a
few days. So it was decided that he should remain, the
doctor saying,'If that is what you came for, we will give
you plenty of work. I have another boy in a similar condition in another tent. I will have him brought in here,
and you may take care of him for his,mother. If he lives,
you shall have the credit of saving him.'
Thus I commenced my work.  William (whom I had
known when a boy, in Gardiner, Maine) lived; but my
first patient, young Campbell, died a few days after.
"All the worst cases of fever were brought to me; and,
from the first drum-beat in the morning till the last at
night, I was busy enough, and very happy to know that I
was able to alleviate the sufferings of many. I
,At the end of September Colonel Howard was promoted to brigadier-general, and Dr. Palmer to a brigade
surgeon.   Dr. Brickett was made surgeon of the Fifth
Maine volunteers, and I was transferred with him. I had
been two weeks with the regiment, and had got the hospital
27
417 
WOMIEN OF THIE WAR.
in a fine condition, the Maine people having sent us some
two or three dozen of bed-cots; and I, availing myself of
an offer in a note Mr. F. N. Knapp wrote me soon after I
arrived in the Third Maine, had drawn bedding, pillows,
dressing-gowns, jellies, &c., from the Sanitary Commission,
when General Slocum came to visit the hospital.'How is
this, Dr. Brickett,' said he,'that your boys are so much
more comfortable than those of the other regiments in the
brigade?'    0,' said the doctor,'we have got a Maine
woman here who understands how to take care of the sick.
She has drawn these things from the Sanitary Commission,
and has arranged the whole with some of the nurses' assistance.''I can't have any partiality in my brigade,' said the
general.'Give my compliments to Miss Bradley, doctor,
and tell her I should be happy to have her take charge of
the sick of the brigade.  I will take the Powell House and
the Octagon House, that are empty~ a short distance from
here, where we will move them all; and tell her I would
like to have her go there and make a home for my boys.'
Of course I accepted.  Did it not widen my sphere of
usefulness? How gratefuil I was to our kind-hearted general for allowing me the privilege of caring for his boys!
The surgeons immediately made requisitions for iron bedsteads, straw bed-ticks, - about seventy-five, the number
our two houses would hold, - and I made another requisition, on the United States  Sanitary Commission,  for
quilts, blankets, sheets, pillow-cases, shirts, drawers, towels, &c. As the government had made no arrangements
for brigade hospitals, supposing the sick from the various
regiments would be sent to general hospitals, these things
418 
MISS AM-IY M. BRADLEY.
could not be obtained in sufficient quantities to supply a
hospital like ours; and here I learned, as early as November, 1861, that a Commission like this was necessary as aln
auxiliary to government, and could be the means of mitigating a vast amount of suffering, and saving very many
valuable lives."
On the 15th October the sick from the various regiments
were conveyed to the places designated by the commander
of the brigade, and there Miss Bradley established her headquarters, taking with her two boys from the Fifth Maineone to act as orderly, and the other to cook. She found a
negro family living in a cabin in the rear, and old Aunt
Hagar agreed to furnish milk, and do the washing for the
hospital.  The boys from the different regiments, detailed
to carry out her wishes, commenced their work in earnest,
and soon this "Home," the first established in ally part of
the army, assumed an appearance of comfort and cheerfulness.
The Powell House was just across the road from the first
encampment of the Third Maine, and there commenced Miss
Bradley's experience as hospital nurse.  A  peculiarity of
her service from the first was the deep personal interest she
felt in her patients. Her feeling towards a sick soldier was
not that, here is suffering that I can alleviate, or, here is one
of our brave defenders to be made well as soon as possible
and sent to the front again; but, this is my boy Charley; I
think I can save him; he over there is George; he is
very sick, but if nursing can save him, he shall not die.
Of the patients in the first little hospital at the Powell
House she speaks thus:
419 
WO3IEN OF THE  VWAl.
"In the room at my right are six very ill.  Do you see
their pale faces?  Three  hitve typhoid fever: the two so
emaciated have passed the crisis, and he with the large
blue eyes has congestion of the lungs.  How my heart
aches for them! In the room opposite are four, three from
the Mozart regiment; and that shadowy form, the fourth,
has been my patient since my arrival, one month ago. He
is rapidly recovering, after having been reduced very low
with typhoid fever. Sometimes I am a little sad that I am
left behind, and surrounded by strange regiments; but it is
only momentary, for I note the light which beams in the
faces of the sick ones as I enter the room."
This hospital was in operation all winter till the 15th of
March, when the brigade was ordered to move on to Centreville, that place having been evacuated by the rebels.
During this time Miss Bradley kept a private record of all
the patients, and particularly of ea'ch death that occurred,
and she seems to have taken a personal and vivid interest
in a great number of the sick.
The first death that occurred was in November. Of
the circumstances that attended the decease she speaks thus
feelingly:    My first patient, Charles G. Nichols, died of diphtheria.
I feel very sad. I did not count on losing any of my boys;
but alas! the best of nursing cannot save them.   His
disease was too far advanced before he came into the hospital. He suffered very much, and was loath to have me
leave him for a moment. He could not lie down at all.
The night he died I talked with him about his coming dissolution. He seemed willing to depart. He had been a
420 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
professor of religion for some years.   On inquiring for
his friends, I found his mother was own cousin to my
brother-in-law, and that I visited her, with my sister and
her husband, the year before I came out. How strange that
I should be the one to minister to him, and to be able to
care for him, and make his last hours as happy as possible!
They have voted in our regiment to raise money enough to
send home the body of every one who dies. We have had
our Charley nicely packed in salt and saltpetre. There is a
hot-house near by; so I have purchased some delicate
flowers, and placed them around his pale face.  Hlow
beautiful he looks asleep in death!  We shall meet again.
I have telegraphed to his friends in Damariscotta, Maine,
as I found letters from them among his effects."
A few days after she makes the following entry in her
journal, which throws a flood of light upon the character
and the motives of the writer:  "Many are the letters I write for the dear soldiers under
my care, to their friends; and deep, earnest, heart-letters
do I receive in return, filled with thankfulness that I am
permitted to watch over them. But methinks there is not
one among them who feels more thankful than does Amy
herself.  How  happy I am  in the performance of  my
duties!  Although I suffer fearfully in losilng a patient,
still I am glad that my Father gives me    strengthfrom day
to day to administer to their wants, and cheer them ill the
absence of nearer friends. I lost several dear boys the
month I was in the Third regiment of Maine volunteers."
One of these " dear boys," whose life she labored to save
with as much assiduity as if he had been an only brother,
421 
WOMEN OF THE WVAR.
was Walter H. Davis. The account of his sickness and
death is so touching,, and so admirably illustrates the character of Miss Bradley, that we give the affecting story
entire, as she wrote it in her journal at the time.   He
belonged to company C of the Fifth Maine regiment.  "He
was sick several weeks; disease, typhoid-pneumonia. He
was a darling boy, so patient when he suffered so much!
How his great blue eyes would brighten when I opened the
door to enter his room! Once, I remember, I had been
gone all day to the Octagon House (where a large number
from the Sixteenth New York are sick).  When I returned
it was evening; I immediately went to see my sickest
patients.  When I asked him'if they had taken good care
of him in my absence,' he answered,'Yes, but not as good
care as you do.'  And when  I said,'Why  not?' he
answered, while a faint smile irradiated his heavenly countenanlce,'They don't love me as well as you do.' True,
too true is it, that after having watched and cared for them
so long, I love them as if they were my ow?  children.
Poor fellows! why shouldn't I love them? Away from
every fond heart, how they do yearn for sympathy and
kind words! A  soldier's life is a hard one, and woe be
unto me if I do not strive to alleviate their sufferings, and
make them feel that one heart is full of pity and love
towards them. I am almost sick from the loss of this dear
child; I felt that I could not give him up. For fifteen days
after the surgeons said he could not live the day out, I kept
him alive by giving him nourishment and stimulants, or,
as Dr. Burr called it,'giving him doses of stick-to-him.'
That day he was in great distress, so that his groans could
422 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
be heard all over the house; the blood was settling under
the finger-nails, and the doctors said mortification was
taking place in the bowels.  I cried bitterly, and said I
could not have him die. When he would look up with his
great eyes and say,'Don't cry for me, don't cry!' I was
almost distracted. I prepared mustard, and covered his
bowels, wrist, and feet, and gave him brandy frequently,
when, to the surprise of all, the pain subsided, his feet and
hands became warm  again, and the doctors, when they
came next morning, were astonished to find him alive and
apparently better. Fifteen days after that he lived; but
vain were my efforts!  Dr. Brickett said his lungs were
entirely broken down. Human skill or kindness could not
save him. He died! - and another link bound me to the
spirit world. Beautiful in life, in death his countenance
was almost seraphic. A more finely moulded face I have
never seen; a broad, high forehead, pose purely Grecian,
with an exquisite mouth and chin. Flowers the most rare
were thickly strewn around the body. Hie looked too
beautiful to lay away in the dust; but such is the decree.
The funeral ceremony was most affecting.  The entire company, with the band, attended the corpse to the express,
and my beautiful adopted boy was sent to his own mother.
Did she feel worse than Amy did?"
On the 10th of March the brigade was ordered to Centreville.  Five days after,the hospital was broken up and
the patients moved, some to Alexandria and some to Fairfax Seminary.
Early in April Miss Bradley went forward with the division to Warrenton Junction.  After various adv.entures,
423 
WOMEN OF THiE WAR.
some of a rather exciting character, in crossing Bull Run,
she remained about a week at Manassas, and on the 13th
the order came to return to Alexandria and proceed to
Yorktown.
During, the two weeks that followed, " long, dreary
weeks," she calls them, she was awaiting orders to proceed with the command to Yorktown, at the end of which
time she offered her services to the Sanitary Commission.
On the 2d of May she went to Washingtoll, and found Mr.
F. L. Olmstead, of the Commission, had gone to Yorktown.
She saw Dr. Jenkins, and hoped her offer would be accepted.   The  doctor  telegraphed at once, and on the
afternoon of Sunday, the 4th of May, the message came:
" Send her to Yorktown immediately."  On the day following she took the cars for Baltimore, stopped at the Eutaw
House, and embarked for Fortress Monroe, in company
with a party of surgeons and dressers. Miss Dix was on the
same boat. The day following they were at Fortress Monroe, and the next day after Miss Bradley was made lady
superintendent of the floating hospital Ocean Queen, which
had been assigned to the use of the Commission. She took
on board about a thousand patients. Several ladies were
designated to assist her in the labor of nursing and care for
so many sufferers on their way to New York, among whom,
as very efficient workers, Miss Bradley mentions Mrs.
Hyde and her lovely daughter Estelle. This cargo of suffering humanity was taken to New York; from thence the
sickest were transferred to Bedlow Island, and the others
to the General Hospital.
On the 21st of May she had returned to White House, and
424 
MISS A.MY M. BRADLEY.
was assigned to the Elm City, where she found several
ladies, among whom were Miss Gardner, Miss Wheddon,
Mrs. Strong, and Mrs. Balustier, engaged in the work of
relief. Here commenced the most strenuous and the most
painful service she had as yet seen. For the crowded and
tragic days that followed, when the magnificent army of
McClellan was being trailed through the mire of the Chickahominy, and pounded to pieces in the seven days' battles,
the journal of Miss Bradley is very full, and gives an
excellent picture of her labors, and the spirit in which they
were performed.
"For several days," she writes, " we had been working
admirably on the Elm City, when, about nine o'clock of the
26th of AMay, we received orders to transfer all our patients
and stores to the steamboats L. R. Spauldilng and Knickerbocker, as the quartermaster must have our boat immediately.  The night was dark, but orders must be obeyed:
the majority of the sick were conveyed to the Spaulding,,
some twenty of the feeblest to the Knickerbocker, and the
next day the Spauldinlg started with her freight of human
souls for New York, taking some of our best nurses with
her. Mrs. Balustier, Miss Gardner, and myself were trans ferred to the lKnickerbocker.  Here we found Mr. Olmi stead, Mr. Knapp, Mrs. Howland, Miss  Woolsey, Miss
Wormley, Miss Gilson, from Chelsea, Massachusetts, and
others. Mrs. Balustier and I had a consultation, and con cluded our services would not be needed there: so we
decided to ask permission to go ashore, and work among
the thousands left by the army as it advances. Mr. Knapp
425 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
approved the plan, and agreed to pitch a tent, and make
arrangements for us to work for the sickest ones.
" Wednesday, May 28, was ashore all day; carried some
canned chicken, some crackers, some brandy, cologne, &c.,
and distributed them amoingst the sickest. Returned to the
boat towards evening, when, as I went aboard, I met Mr.
Olmstead, who told me he wished me to take charge of the
Knickerbocker, and put her in order to receive wounded
men from the battle of Fair Oaks. I objected; he insisted,
and, of course, carried his point, as he was to decide all
things, being at the head of this enterprise.
The next morning, the 29th, Mr. Olmstead and his party
returned to the Wilson Small. The Knickerbocker was in
a very filthy condition, and there were several state-rooms
filled with soiled clothes, that were exceedingly offensive.
The surgeon in charge, Dr. Swan, requested me to arrange
matters to suit myself, furnishing me with all aid necessary.
First, then, these clothes must be counted and sent ashore
to be washed; four girls (colored) to be hired to wash on
board the boat, so that no more should accumulate. Done.
Second, see the captain of the boat, and have the crew,
with the assistance of attendants, clean the boat. Thtey
went to work with a will. Mr. Knapp promised me bedcots to fill the saloon on the main deck and lower one;
promptly they were sent. There was a large quqntity of
clothing on board: this I arranged myself, so that I could
know where to find each article needed.  Meantime Mrs.
Balustier left for home, sick, and Mrs. Annie Etheridge,
of the Third Michigan, reported for duty.  How faithfully
she labored! We divided a little saloon at the forward
426 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
part of the boat, leaving six berths on one side, and six on
the other, making two rooms, the one occupied  by the
surgeon and his staff, the other by us.
"Sunday, June 1, found us nearly ready, our boat clean,
our beds set up, and clothing arranged in order. About
four P. M. the wounded began to arrive. I shall never
forget my feelings, as, one by one, those mutilated forms
were brought in on stretchers, and carefully placed on those
comfortable cots.'What,' said I,'must I see human beings
thus mangled?  0, my God, why is it? why is it?'  For
nearly an hour I could not control my feelings. But when
the surgeon said,'Miss Bradley, you must not do so, but
prepare to assist these poor fellows,' I realized that tears
must be choked back, and the heart only know its own
suffering! Action was the watchword of the hour.  Then
Amy was herself again. We received more than three
hundred, some very badly wounded. One poor fellow,
shot through the bowels, suffered the most excruciating
torture, calling constantly for water: his thirst seemed insatiable.  He died before morning.
"It was past midnight before they were all fed and composed for rest. Weary and sick at heart, I sought my
pillow. Sunrise found us up, however, and ready to wash
and dress the wounds of the sufferers, and chalnge their
battle-stained garments for clean hospital clothing.  One
solitary rebel was among the number of our wounded. He
lay on the floor at the side of the boat; we were obliged to
place many along the side, the boat was so crowded. As I
was distributing the breakfast that morning, - my table
was but a few feet from where he was lying, -my atten
427 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
tion was attracted by a number of the attendants, who were
collected there, talking to him, and by their language, I
found their feelings were none of the kindest. About
eleven o'clock A. M. I took a turn through the boat, to
see if all had been properly attended to, and if there was
anything more they needed for the present to make them
comfortable.  All seemed satisfied, and exceedingly grateful for the attention they had received from the surgeons,
dressers, and nurses. The upper saloon had been divided
into two wards, with Miss Gilson and Mrs. Etheridge in
charge; the lower, under Miss Gardner and her attendant,
Ellen,- a noble-hearted Irish girl, who never wearied in
her labor of love, -with Mrs. Reading, assistant dresser.
When I came to the'rebel,' I stopped as I had to
others, and bade him good morning.  He was shot through
the left wrist; the arm and hand were fearfully swollen and
inflamed: his face was flushed; his breakfast lay untouched
by his side. He said, in answer to my inquiry,'My arm
pains me very badly.''Can't you eat your breakfast?'  I
have nlo appetite.'' Has your wound been dressed?''The
doctor has not been along yet.' I called a colored boy
(who assisted me), and bade him pull off the wounded
manl's boots, and bathe his feet. I brought a basin of cool
water, washed his face and hands, and poured some upon
the wound, telling him that the doctor would soon be there.
He thanked me more with his countenance than with the
words he uttered, though they expressed pain relieved and
a grateful heart. His nlame was William A. Seawall, company H, Eighth Alabama regiment; his home in Mobile,
Alabama. In the afternoon the surgeon in charge called
428 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
mte aside, and said,'Miss Bradley, are you aware that you
are subjecting yourself to severe criticism?'  I started,
surprised:'Why, what have I done, doctor?'   Don't be
alarmed,' said he, smiling to see me so excited;'it is your
attention to that reb over there. I think you had better
not do anything more for him, for many are criticising you
very severely, and I am afraid it will do you harm, holding
the position you do.''Doctor,' said I,'I profess to be a
Christian, and my Bible teaches me, if my enemy hungers, to
feed him; if he is thirsty, to gave him drink: that poor boy
is wounded, and suffering intensely; he was my enemy,
but now he needs my aid.  If I obey not the teachings of
the Saviour, I am not a true disciple. I shall certainly see
that he is cared for with the rest.''Very well,' said he,
'you have my advice, and can do as you please.''If you
wish to criticise and blame me, I cannot help it; I shall do
my duty, and take care of my enemy,' I replied. So I
attended to my Secesh boy. Once, while talking with him,
I found that, though wounded and a prisoner, his feelings
were very bitter towards the North; still I saw that his
wants were supplied with the rest, for the attendants had
neglected him from the beginning.
"Tuesday morning, the 3d, we were ordered to take our
wounded to Newport News. As I was passing where Seawall lay, he called to me -' Mother, come here a minute.'
I approached him: he put out his hand, which I took, and
said, while tears welled up to his eyes,'Mother, you have
conquered me!''What?' said I.'You have conquered
me,' he replied:'if I get well, I will never raise my hand
against the North again; for, if I should, I should raise it
429 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
against you; and that I could never do, after your kindness
to me.'  I blessed him for the good tidings, with tears running, down my cheeks, for joy that I was able to do my
duty amidst reproach, and reap the reward, not only in the
consciousness of divine approval, but in winning one rebel
by gospel measures to the side of truth and right. I related
my interview to the surgeon, and told him they might
talk on; it would do no harm; I had conquered the rebel
by obeying the golden rule."
These labors upon the hospital transports continued till
the termination of the Peninsula campaign and the removal
of the army to Acquia Creek.   During this time Miss
Bradley was lady superintendent on the Knickerbocker and
on the Louisiana, though sometimes engaged temporarily
on the Daniel Webster and other transports.
On several occasions she was on board the truce boat
which went up to receive the wounded who had fallen into
the hands of the enemy; and we find several touching incidents in her journal, none perhaps more affecting than the
following: -
"Our third trip to City Point was successfill; we filled
our boat with the poor sufferers. Howv glad they were to
see once more the old flag, and meet kind friends!  Several died soon after they were brought on board.  Our
surgeon performed a number of amputationis, which I witnessed; one, in particular, I shall not soon forget.  The
subject was a lad of some nineteen years, a delicate-looking
boy, who had been shot in the upper part of the right arm,
near the shoulder.   He was very patient, and could not
bear the thought of losing the arm. His appetite was poor,
430 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
and it was evident that he failed daily.  The doctor said
he must examine the wound.  He talked with the little fellow, and finally obtained his consent to be put under the
influence of chloroform, though not with the intention of
amputating the arm, for he was not sure that it would be
necessary to do that. But the cause of the daily decline of
boy's health was quickly made evident. The bone near the
shoulder-joint was badly fractured, and mortification was
commenciing.  The arm must come off, or he could not live
long; but the little fellow had not expected that. Should
we arouse him and tell him, or should it be done at once, as
it would have to be done anyhow?  All said,'Do it now;
it will be better for the lad in the end.' A few minutes
and the shoulder-joint had been unlocked, the arm taken
off, the skin neatly closed over the bone, every sign of
blood removed, and our hero, all unconscious of the operation, restored to consciousness ag,aih. I wish you could
have heard our lnoblle surgeon as he prepared him for the
loss of that good right arm. He told him that he had examined it, and found the bone sadly fractured; he explained
the necessity for amputation, - that he must die if it was not
done, -talking, so gently, and with the sympathy of a noble
heart, till at last he said,'Yes, you may take it off.'  The
doctor asked him if it pained him as badly as ever, and
began to call his attention to the arm; told himvNhat had
been our consultation, and at last our decision. The effect
for a moment was most distressing; he turned as pale as if
he were dead.  We thought for an instant he would die;
but the soothing words and voice of the doctor brought
the color again to his lips, and the brightness to his eye;
431 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
and, thanks to that gray-haired, whole-hearted surgeon, our
pet rallied from that moment.  In a few days there was a
visible improvement; and when we transferred him he was
in a fair way to recover.
"Many were very feeble, and I found that milk punch
worked wonders with them. I told the boys, when their
faces would brighten as I approached their bedside, that it
was no doubt the'snifters' which I brought.  Those were
days of labor and happiness! We had excellent officers
and attendants, and all enjoyed life as much as possible."
After three trips in truce boats, Miss Bradley was onl the
steamer which took the sick from Harrison's Landing to
Philadelphia. This was in the early part of August. Here
she lost the aid of one of the most efficient of her co-workers,
Mrs. Etheridge, who returned to the regiment in which
her husband was enlisted. While the boat was coaling in
Philadelphia, she met her whole-sotiled friend, Philip Eastwick, whom she had known as a noble laborer in the early
part of the campaign, went with him to see some of her
patients that had been removed some weeks before, and
writes in her journal, "How glad they were to see me
again! "
Returning now on the final trip, about the middle of
August, she saw, with melancholy, the evacuation of the last
strip of territory on the James which had been -gained at a
cost of fifty thousand men.  When this last ship-load of
the sick from the Peninsula was discharged, Miss Bradley
was for a few days unoccupied, and recruited her health,
that had been much worn by labors so strenuous and
protracted.
432 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
But, early in September, her rest was over, and we find
her transferred to another branch of the sanitary service,
not quite so painful as had been her experience on the
Peninsula, yet requiring more administrative talent and
firmer executive and business qualities. To this service she
brought the same warm heart and the same clear head that
had made her so admirable in the hospitals and on the
transports.
The Commission had found a great and growing demand
for a Soldiers' iHome in Washington - a house where the
private soldier, often moneyless and always homeless, could
go and remain a'few days while awaiting orders; where the
slightly sick and the convalescent could find the care and
comfort they needed; where old, soiled clothing could be
exchanged for new, and the old be waslhed; a place with
books, and newspapers, and music, and cheerful looks and
words, sanctified, by the presence of woman, and not unworthy of the sacred name which was applied to it.  Mr.
Knapp requested Miss Bradley to take charge of the Home,
put it in good order, act as its matron or lady superintendent, and administer its hospitalities.  She accepted the
invitation, and in a letter to her sister gives the following
account of the institution and the manner, in which she
organized and conducted it.
"The Home is for all soldiers discharged' frommthe service and awaiting the settlement of their accounts with
government; for those who fall sick on their marches, and
those of the new regiments'who are taken sick while passing through the city. A great number of those admitted
must remain each a few days, and; we, ean accommodate about
28
433 
WVOMEN OF THE wVAR.
one hundred and twenty comfortably. When these poor
veterans come in, weary and ragged, shirtless and with
soiled raiment, Amy has the privilege of giving them clean,
warm clothing for theirs, so torn and dirty; of feeding
them, and sending them on their way.  Mrs. Murray has the
charge of the culinary department, and occupies, with her
help, the first floor.  I have charge of the rest.  Mr. J. B.
Abbott, a very eflicient and just man, is the superintendent.
I have two colored girls, who do the chamber-work, and
an Irish girl for the washing and ironing. I find leisure to
visit other hospitals, and do a great deal of good, I hope."
In one of these trips of hospital visitation she found a
collection of sick and convalescent soldiers at the "Rest," and
reporting their condition to Mr. Knapp, a reprimand from
the medical director to some careless subordinate was the
result. The person thus censured said "they would move
them over the river, where these women couldn't get to
them, and they wouldn't have the privilege of reporting on
them again." Miss Bradley remembered this speech, and
a few dclays after, armed with a pass from General Wadsworth, she made her way out to "Camp Misery," near Fort
Ellsworth, and found there suffering and discomfort such
as she had not seen before. During September, October,
and December, 1862, besides her duties at the Home, which
were always admirably discharged, she madle fieicuent visits
to this camnp, and drew stores fromn the Sanitary Commission, and distributed them there with her own hands.
The energy and discretion she thus displayed, and the
interest she manifested in the soldiers there, directed the
attention of the Sanitary Commission to her as the most
434 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
proper person to be made their special relief agent at Camp
Distribution.
This was located near Alexandria, and about nine miles
from Washinoton.  Frequent inspections and reports had
failed to reform its sanitary and social condition. From
the nature of things it was eminently a place of discomfort.
Here was sent the soldier who had been discharged from
hospital, but was not quite able to shoulder his musket and
march to his regiment; the soldier whose health and spirit
were broken, and who was awaiting his discharge papers.
Others were here who had received their papers, with the
word "Deserter" branded in red ink across the back, yet
who were conscious of having discharged the duty of a soldier, and who deserved well of their country.  Some were
very poorly supplied with clothing, having but a single
cotton shirt in the cold nights of late November.
In the note from Mr. Knapp, releasing Miss Bradley
from the superintendency of the Home, in order that she
might devote herself to the alleviation of Camp Distribution, he says, " Will you please to show Mrs. E. all your
methods by which you have made, and continue to keep,
the Home so neat and well ordered?"
Miss Bradley's labors at Camp Distribution as special
relief agent of the Sanitary Commission were more difficult,
and required a better order of ability, than any to which she
had yet been called; but whatever the talent or ability
required, it was not found wanlting when the demand was
made.  Dutring thi.s period of twelve months, one hundred
and eleven thousand eight hundred and twenty-five soldiers
entered the camp in passing from the military hospitals to
435 
O'WOMIEN OF THE WAR.
their respective regiments, or to their homes, on certificates
of permanent disability.  To these soldiers Miss Bradley
distributed a vast amount of commissary stores, yet with
jucldgment, and after ascertaining, by personal knowledge,
the wants of each.
She arrived on the 17th of December. On the 21st,
when the soldiers were all assembled in line for inspection, she passed around with the officers, and supplied
seventy-five men with woollen shirts, working on the principle of supplying only the very nleedy.  She soon had a
hospital, and began to nurse such poor fellows as she had
gathered from those whom the doctors had pronounced well
men.  Others she found, whose discharge papers had been
lying in the office for some time.  But the men were too
feeble to stand iin the cold and wet and wait their turn.
She carried them to her hospital, and warmed and clothed
them, applied for their papers, and sent them into Washington, on their way home.
From May 1 to December 31, 1863, nearly all the soldiers discharged from service in the camp were conveyed
by her to the Commission  Lodg,es at Washington.   The
number thus kindly aided was over two thousand.  When
it is remembered that the majority of these men were suffering from incurable disease, prostrated in strength, and
rendered highly sensitive to all the trials and &xposures of
transportation, the value of Miss Bradley's labors may be,
to some extent, appreciated; but a few passages from her
journal at Camp Distribution will illustrate the character of
this uncommon and most admirable service.
. December 31, 1862. -  Since the establishment of my
436 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
hospital, forty have been admitted.   These have  been
washed  (we have a nice bath-tub, which I bought with
some money a lady gave me to buy crutches), alndl have
received clean clothes in place of the soiled ones which
they wore.  I have a wash-house, and a man detailed, who
washes the clothes as fast as they come out of the hospital.
My whole establishment- my; office, one cook tent, two
hospital tents, bath-room (a wedge tent), wash-room (a
wall tent) -is all in good  working order.  The officers
have been very kind, and I feel with the new year I may
begin a work which will be a blessing to the suffering in
this camp, and a credit to the Unlitedcl States Sanitary
Commission.
"Tuesday, January 20, 1863. - 4fter attending to my
patients in hospital, started, with my three discharged boys
in my ambulance, for Washington.  At Long Bridge overtook another poor fellow.  Took hinm In, and proceeded to
the Lodge.  Mr. Abbott there took charge of the two
feeblest ones, and I started for Major Pomeroy's office and
Major Hiolman's with the others. One received his pay.
The other was charged with desertion, and concluded to
return to his regiment, to clear himself of the charge.
Poor fellow! how I pitied him!  I then took them inll my
ambulance, and carried them to the Home, where I bade
them good by; thence to the medical director, Dr.Abbott,
to ascertain what a soldier must do when he loses his
discharge papers. He was very kind, and gave me the
information.  Returned, and wrote to Mrs. Jacob B. S.,
N.  Oyster Bay, Long, Island, whose husband had lost
his papers.
437 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
",d. - This morning made an appeal to the president
of one of the Examining Boards in behalf of the sick boys
in my hospital. It touched his heart, and notwithstanding
the regular labors of the day pressed upon him, he agreed
to come after examination hours.  Ile came,  and discharged several.  God bless Dr. Hunt!  I had seen him
before, and worked with him among the wounded in the
Peninsula."
From December 23, 1862, to April 1, 1863, the names
of those who entered her little sanitary hospital, with their
company, regiment, state, character of disease, and remarks on each'case, were carefully recorded by her, and
it appears that in that time she took care of one hundred
and thirty patients, ofvwhom only fifteen died.
In some of these sufferers she took a deep and touching
interest. One fine boy, from Massachusetts, interested her
very much, and she did all that care and skill could to save
his life; but it was in vain.
On the 21st of February she writes thus affectingly
about him  "Mly darling boy, Greenwood, died at four P. M.  His
father arrived about two hours prior to his death. He was
perfectly sensible, and on being told he could live but a
few hours longer, replied, "If I must die, I die in the
cause of God and my country." He was wounded in the
left cheek by a minie ball, during the battle of Antietam,
and was in hospital in Newark, New Jersey, nearly four
months, when, instead of dischlarging him, as was the surgeon's duty, he was cruelly sent to this camp. Came from
Washiington, in a tough snow-storm, January 28; stood
438 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
with a squad at the receiving office till he was thoroughly
chilled, before his name was recorded. His discharge
papers were made out the next day after he arrived; but
the cold he took coming through that storm settled on his
lungs, and in three weeks after his arrival the noble boy
passed to the spirit-land. The discharge papers came the
day before he died. Too late! Only the lifeless body was
his aged father permitted to carry to his home in Hubbardston, Massachusetts."
Labors and experiences like these consumed the whole
of that memorable year 1863. Miss Bradley had her hospital full of the sick. Almost every day she took soldiers
in her ambulance, and with them went to the different
offices in Washingtonl, aiding each one to obtain or correct
his papers, as each case differed; and, when these arduous
and vexatious labors were concluded, she passed her evenings mostly in writing to the friends bf the sick and of the
dead the most complete and satisfactory account of their
sickness and all its symptoms, and the circumstances and
last words of the death-beds.
WVhen it is remembered that such labors were wholly
gratuitous, and bestowed upon those who had no claim
upon her sympathy and love, more than being soldiers in
the cause of our common country, and bestowed in the
name and for the sake of the loved ones they ibd left in
their distant village homes, truly we may say of devotion
so uncommon, -
" Earth has angels, though their forms are moulded,
Fashioned of clay, like all things here below;
Though harps are wanted, and bright pinions folded,
We know them by the love-light on their brow."
439 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
On the last day of the year, Miss Bradley, in a report to
the special relief agent of the Sanitary Commission, gives
a review and summary of these labors, which, aside from
its intrinsic interest as an illustration of her character, is
valuable as a guide to the zeal of those who aspire to a
similar distinction in the walks of beneficence.
"The chainges in this camp," she writes, "have been
numerous and extensive since my establishment here. We
have hardly a single officer, surgeon or soldier, nlow, that
was present on my arrival. To labor systematically and
with effect, where such important changes are constantly
taking place, is difficult.  How have  I succeeded?  Let
us see.   
First, then: What was I to do?  I had devoted myself
to the general duty-of alleviating the sufferings of the soldiers of the Union.  To accomplish this most effectually, I
must work upon a system.  Now, what shall-this system
be?  Can rules be established at once?  I found, after 
few days of effort and embarrassment, that they could not.
You will ask,'Why not?'  Briefly I answer, Because
any plan of mine which proposed an established routine,
would operate, or attempt to operate, in the midst of a general anarchy.  System there was none, ins any department,
military, commissary, quartermaster, or medical.  State
agents came with their stores of clothing, and  gave them
out profusely, without any investigation as to whether the
recipient was needy or otherwise.   The Commission had
sent agents who  had poured  down their stores by the
wagon-load, and these articles of clothing had been used
once, and when soiled, thrown upon the ground, and left
to rot by the thousands.
440
4 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
"I entered upon my duties as soon as the camp was
moved to its present location, on the 17th of December,
1862. The soldiers were in tents; no barracks had been
erected.  Many I found sick, and stretched on the almost
frozen ground in midwinter, with only a suit of ragged
and fever-soiled clothes and one army blanket, with no
nourishment that they could take, or that was suitable for
sick men.  What did I do? Did I, as some others have, sit
down and prepare a fearful communication to the New
York Tribune, making bitter complaints of the Sanitary
Commission, and accusing the commanding officers of nleglect and incompetency, -that the quartermaster did not
furnish clothing, and the surgeons left their patients to
languish, and finally to die on  the bare ground?  This
was not my plan. Did I give indiscriminately from the
abundant supplies of clothing to every man that asked?
Not so. 
Making out a requisition in form, I drew a quantity of
woollen shirts, and on Sunday morning, at inspection, I
went with the officer, and found in the line of men, on that
damp and chilling day, on the banks of the Potomac, in
midwinter, seventy-five with only thin cotton shirts.  To
these I gave warm flannels at once; and ever since the
really needy have been supplied.  Then I went through the
sick tents, and immediately after sought an interiew with
the commanding officer, told him my plan, and asked for
hospital tents.  These were at once pitched and floored.
Stoves were placed in them, and the sick collected and made
as comfortable as possible. A squad of men was detailed
to assist me, and every facility placed in my power.
441 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
"Another  wretched class I found, of those who had
proved incapable of service on account of chronic ailments,
or feeble constitutions, but who had not as yet received
honorable discharges, or their arrears of pay.  Their papers
had been lying for three or four weeks in the surgeol's
office, while they were too weak and ill-clad to go out in
the cold and stand till their turn came. These I brought
to my hospital; warmed, fed, and clothed them; applied
for their papers; obtained their transportation orders, and
sent them to Washington, in my ambulance, to the stations where they could take the proper train, go home, and
die among friends.
" In January, 1863, Lieutenant-Colonel Samuel McKelvy
took command, and the organization of the divisions be
came more perfect.
"At first I placed my cards, authorizing the bearer to
draw clothing, in the hands of the surgeons, as there were
two in each division. I found, however, they did not have
leisure, or take time, to learn the actual wants of their
patients as to clothing; so I had a soldier detailed in each
divisioix, whose sole business it should be to ascertain who
wanted clothing.  Now, when a soldier brings me a clothing card, I refer him to the agent of his division, who first
examines his knapsack, to learn the actual condition of his
wardrobe, then ascertains from the quartermaster'whether
he can draw, and, if not, gives him a written order on me,
which I fill at once.
Since the 1st of May I have gone over to Washington
with nearly every discharged soldier, taken him to the
Lodge, and assisted the majority of them in obtaining a
442 
MISS AIY M11. BRADLEY.
prompt and satisfactory settlement of their account with
the government.
"I have preserved, in a book kept for the purpose, the
names, company, regiment, and state of nleariy two thousand soldiers who have for the past seven months been
thus aided by me. I took them first to the Lodge, No.
389 IH Street, where they deposited their knapsacks for safe
keeping; thence to the paymaster-genleral's office; thence
to their regimental paymaster's, when any doubt or difficulty
arose.  Finally, they went with me to the office of Major
Taylor, the paymaster for discharged soldiers, where they
settled their final account, and I then took them back to the
Lodg,e, where they resumed their knapsacks, found lodging
and meals free, and obtained tickets to return to their homes
at reduced rates.
Within the past two months I have obtained certificates
for the arrears of pay for some one, hundred and fifty soldiers, several of whose names were'dropped from the
rolls.' These I have had reinstated by proper authority,
and they then drew their pay. In nearly every case I have
preserved inll a book, kept for the purpose, the names,
company, regiment, and state of all these cases, and a
memorandum of the amount of their claim, and the time
and manner of final adjustment.   The sum  total of the
moneys thus paid in settlement to soldiers whose accounts
were placed in my hands during the year, is between seven
and eight thousand dollars.
"In conclusion, I will add, that I have always tried to
accomplish my work by peaceful measures. Though I have
made many suggestions, not one failed of being adopted;
443 
VO.IWEN OF THE WAR.
but I carried none of them by storm. Opposed at times
by state agents and by ambulance women, the Commission
officers have always sustained me against their jealousies.
For a time the agents of the Christian Commission failed to
trust me with some articles of clothing, but afterwards
concluded to leave all that to Miss Bradley.'  Two assistant surgeons tried to injure my usefulness in the camp.
The result was their dismissal from the service.  I speak it
not as a boast, but to show that my peace method has been
successful."
A warm and appreciative friend of Miss Bradley has
given the author a graphic and somewhat amusing, description of the appearance of our heroine when she came over,
day after day, from " Camp Misery," as the boys would call
it, with a forlorn-looking escort of broken-down soldiers,
and took them from one oflice to another till their papers
and accounts were all made entirely satisfactory.
A  small figure, erect, and made for activity and endurance, sitting composedly in the ambulance -a soldier
driving, and two or three cripples riding; the rest moving
in single file, as a right wing, -poor, sick soldiers, but
trying to look as trim as they can, -marching up the
avenues of the national capital, all in silence, moving after
that little woman  as though she were their  brigadiergeneral! Now the procession comes to tlie door of a government office.  She lifts one white finger of her little
hand, and they obey as quickly as though General Hancock
had roared out his "Columnl, halt!"  She points towards
the door.  That means "file right," and is just as effecttual
as the drawn sword of General Grant.
444 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
Soon the file comes out again, as obedient to the movement of that one woman's fingers as the Great Eastern to
her helm.   It is shorter than when it went in.  Two or
three of the boys start off with more elastic step, their
papers, "all right," in the side pocket of the old blue blowse,
and a wad of new greenbacks in their vest pocket.  They
don't know what to say' to Miss Bradley.  Their sensations
are a mixture of  gratitude, admiration,  and reverence.
There was no tedious waiting at a circumlocution office.
One cut of -her scissors severed the red-tape with which
their hopes and rights had been tied up fortweeks  and
months.  And so the little procession moves on from one
office to another, till she takes them'back to the Lodge,
when the heavy and greasy old knapsack, all stained with
Virg,inia- mud, is lashed on for the last time, and they start
off, in little irregular squads of twoor three, with buoyant
feelings and bright eyes, for the station of the railroad that
goes north, for now
"Johnny comes marching home."
Throughout the year 1864 Miss Bradley continued the
same persistent and systematic labors for the soldiers which
she has herself so well described in her report for 1863.
In January and February seven hundred and fifty were
discharged, and' sent in ambulances  to the Lodlge,' where
they were assisted by Mr.'Neal, of the Commission, in the
regulation of their papers, Miss Bradley being prevented
by sickness from going with them.
About this time a radical change was made. Camp Distribution was broken up, but the same locality was named
"Rendezvous of Distribution," and orders were that none
445 
WOMEN OF TIHE WAR.
should be sent there but deserters and men fit for field
service. During these changes Miss Bradley was sick for
some time from excitement and over-exertion.  WVhen her
health was partially restored (about the 17th of February),
she assumed the editorial chair of the Soldier's Journal,
"published every Wednesday, at the Rendezvous of Distribution, at the subscription price of two dollars per ainnum,
payable always in advance; single copies, five cents."
The objects of this Journal were declared to be, to give
instructions how to procure pay and clothing when entitled
to such; what are the requisites exacted by government when
furloughs are granted; how discharged soldiers can be put
in the way of securing prompt settlement of their accounts
with government, without the interference of claim agents.
Aside from this, it contained interesting original and selected reading matter. Its prospectus was dated the 17th
of February, 1864, and it gave its -valedictory eighteen
months after, when the "cruel war was over," on the 22d
of August, 1865. It began with a debt of five hundred and
fifty dollars, and wound up with a profit of twenty-one
hundred and fifty-five dollars and seventy-five cents, besides the press and type, all of which was devoted to the
relief of orphans of soldiers.
Besides these editorial duties, Miss Bradley was, during a
large part of the year, the superintendent of the special diet
at the Au,gur General Hospital; and, by records carefully
preserved by herself, it appears that during the two years
ending December 31, 1864, she received from soldiers, and
delivered to J. B. Abbott, the chief assistant of the general relief department of the Sanitary Commission, four
446 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
thousand one hundred and forty-six dollars and fifty cents,
to be forwarded to their friends, and in the same manner,
during January and February, 1865, received and forwarded
seven hundred and seventy-nine dollars.
The plan and system of her work were organized under
ten heads, which she followed, from the beginning of her
connection with this camp, in the winter of 1862, till the
war ended.  They were as follows:
1. Distributing clothing among the needy.
2. Procuring dainties for the sick, and administering to
their comfort, by furnishing gruel, stimulants, &c.
3. Accompanying discharged soldiers to Washington, and
assisting them in obtaining their pay.
4. Distributing note paper and envelopes, and writing
letters for the sick.
5. Receiving and forwarding money for soldiers to their
friends at home.
6. Obtaining  certificates of arrears of pay for soldiers,
and getting unjust charges of desertion removed.
7. Answering letters of inquiry to hospital directory.
8. Distributing reading matter in camp.
9. Telegraphing to friends of very sick soldiers.
10.  Giving meals to feeble soldiers in the barracks.
Little credit would be reflected on our brave soldiers and
officers if it should appear that services such as +hese failed
of due appreciation and the meed of just praise. By all
she was looked upon as the friend of the soldier, and by
him she was received with the kindest regard and gratitude. On the 22d of February, 1864, she was presented
447 
WOMEN OF THE WATR.
with an elegant gold watch and chain by the officers and
private soldiers of Camp Convalescent, with which she had
so long been connected. " It was about two P. M., on the
22d," she says, "that, on answering a rap at my door, I was
met by a little army of soldiers, headed by Lieutenant Colonel Samuel McKelvy commanding, and Surgeon Sanford B. Hunt, accompanied by the chaplain, William J. Potter, and the other officers of both camp and hospital.  As I
opened the door, Mr. Potter stepped forward and said,    Miss Bradley: Be not alarmed at the coming of this
army to your door. -We are not hostile, but come on a
friendly mission; and here I have the countersign that will
show that we are friends.  In this box you will find a watch
and chain, which, in behalf (f the officers and soldiers of
this camp and hospital, I have the honor to present to you.
"'I present it to you in behalf of the officers, some one
of whom, who has been longer acqua,inted with your work
here than I have been, I would have preferred to speak on
this occasion; but I know that I speak for them, for I but
repeat what I have heard from the commanding officer and
from the surgeon in charge of camp and hospital, and also
from others, when I say that they recognize the importance
of the work you are doing here, and the remarkable ability,
faithfulness, and entire self-devotion wit which you have
performed it; and they recognize this work not orfnly for its
beneficence to the soldiers, who from time to time have
been gathered here, but as an important aid towards the
good order and discipline of the camp; and by their share
in this gift they mean to testify this recognition of the
value of your services.
448 
MISS AMY MI. BRADLEY.
"'But I present this gift also ill behalf of the private soldiers; full half of its value belongs to them.  They in
various ways have felt your sympathy, and had your kind
assistance.  No words of mine can tell in how high regard
they hold your work for them.
"' By their share in this gift they have tried to tell you
a part of their gratitude; and those who have not been able
to add their mlite to increase the value of the gift, give you
their blessings and their prayers.
' Let me add, also, that we welcome you back to health,
and to the work you love so well. And now, in behalf of
these your friends, and many others who are not here,
allow me to put into your hands this token of their appreciation and friendly regard - a gift from soldiers to the
Soldiers' Friend.'"
In some form or other nearly every officer who saw her
works has given his opinion of them, sometimes in terms
that do all that can be done by words to show the deep
impression she made on the minds of those with whom she
came in contact during those four years of her conspicuous
and splendid beneficence.
Colonel Taylor, of the paymaster's department at Washington, under date of August 17, 1864, writes, "Since
March 4, 1863, I have been in charge of this office, and
from that date Miss Bradley has assisted more than two
thousand discharged soldiers in adjusting and collecting
the amounts due them. To the sick and wounded she has
ministered faithfully. Her services have been valuable to
the Commission, to the country, to the soldier, and honorable to herself."
29
449 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Mr. E. II. Brooks, chief clerk in the office of the paymaster-general, and ten of his associates, unite in preseniting
to Miss Bradley a testimonial of their esteem and their
valuation of her service, in which they say, " WVe desire to
bear testimony to the deep interest which you have always
manifested in the welfare of the sick and wounded soldier,
and the valuable services you have rendered in procuring
arrears of pay, and in removing erroneous charges of desertion, for hundreds of those who stood in need of a friend.
While we regret that the poor soldier is to be deprived of
your valuable services, we trust that in your retirement
from the busy scenes in which you have so long been
engag,ed, you may enjoy health and prosperity, and all the
blessings that flow from a well-spent life."
Dr. G. L. Sutton, surgeon in charge of the Rendezvous
of Distribution, referring to her labors there as he saw
them during the year 1864, says, ",Her notoriety as'the
soldier's friend' is wide spread, and needs no comment.
If he needs a counsellor, her advice is ever ready. If his
case needs an advocate at the heads of the departments,
she is prompt and discreet in presenting his case. The
sick she has nursed as a mother, and the well she has
incited to deeds of valor. Possessed of superior executive
ability, associated with a generous heart and honesty of
purpose, she is peculiarly well qualified to. fill the position
of special relief agent of the United States Sanitary Commission. I would in the most earnest manner recommend
her to all who appreciate true worth, and would reward
true merit."
After the close of the war, in August, 1865, the officers
450 
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
of the Commission noticed with pain how deeply these
long and arduous charitable labors of Miss Bradley had
intrenched upon her health; and the organization, acting
through their general secretary, John S. Blatchford, Esq.,
addressed her the following letter:  CYour impaired health, incurred in the performance of
your self-imposed and most arduous labors for the welfare
of our soldiers, is observed by your friends with solicitude
and regret.
"The service which you have rendered in the cause of
humanity, and the influence you have exerted, resulting in
untold alleviation and comfort to those to whom you have
ministered in many ways beyond the ordinary experience
of women, are such as to secure to you the lasting regard
and love of all who have known you in your work. That
work has been characterized by rare judgment, great
efficiency, untiring zeal and devotion. Ib is above praise.
" It will afford me, on behalf of the Commission, especial
satisfaction if I can in any manner promote your personal
comfort during the period of relaxation and rest which you
now allow yourself; and I will thank you if you will indicate any wish in this connection, and permit me the pleasure
of serving you."
In reply, Miss Bradley thanked the secretary for the
terms in which he had seen fit to speak of her services, and
suggested that, as she greatly needed rest and a change of
scene, and her limited means did not allow her to take a
trip to visit her friends in Maine, the Commission should
give her a salary for that part of the current year then
passed.
451 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
On the following day she received a note from the central office, enclosing a draft for four hundred and fifty-five
dollars; and the treasurer remarks that, " in his judgment,
the Commission had never expended a dollar more worthily,
or with more perfect returns to the good cause."
He closes his communication with a sentiment which
every reader of this sketch will heartily indorse: "Your
course as related to the soldier, Miss Bradley, is beyond
any words of mine. It has illustrated to me, more perfectly
than any other instance I have ever seen, the nobility of
woman's sacrifice to truth and right."
452 
MISS REBECCA R. USHER.
ERY early in the struggle the people of Maine en      tered warmly into the plans and labors of the Sanitaty and Christian Commissions. But in addition to these
national organizations it was generally felt that some more
special and direct system was required for reaching all the
Maine boys in the army, and making sure that the bountiful
supplies given by the people at home did not fail of their
purpose.
More effectually to accomplish this object, a society was
formed in Portland, in the fall of 1862,. called the "Maine
Camp and Hospital Association," the various members of
which held themselves in readiness to respond to any call
for hospital nurses that might reach them from the front.
Aside from Mrs. Fogg and Mrs. Eaton, who were the pioneers from the state in sanitary labor, Miss Usher was
among, the first to enter upon the work of humanity, and
devote herself to the alleviation of the untold and unmeasured sufferings produced by the great war.
Her first experience was at the General Hospital at
Chester, in Pennsylvania.  This had been opened early in
the spring of 1862, at the time of the Peninsular campaign,
and was for some weeks supplied with nurses by the ladies
from the village. As some disagreement arose between
(453) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
these occasional laborers and the surgeon in charge, he
sought to change the system of hospital service, and secured Mrs. Tyler, of Baltimore, as lady superintendent,
requesting her to call to her aid a suitable corps of skilful
and permanent assistants.
Mrs. Tyler sought volunteers exclusively as being more
intelligent, more refined, and more devoted to the welfare
of the soldier than those whose labor was salaried.
The little band she secured as aids was composed of
Miss Sarah Tucker and Miss Kendall, from Boston; Miss
Dequindre, from Michigan; Miss Hattie Southgate, daughter of Bishop Southgate, of New York; Miss Ellis, of
Bridgewater; Miss Titcomb and Miss Newhall, from Portland; and Miss Usher, from Hollis, Maine.
The large building erected for a normal school was appropriated to the use of the surgeons and the ladies of the
hospital. Most of the amputations -ere performed here,
and the building, was also used as a special ward for such
patients as were so ill as to be disturbed by the noise of
the crowded wards, and whose recovery depended on the
most watchful attention.  They had under their care nine
hundred patients in the fall, and during a considerable part
of the winter of 1862 and 1863. These were distributed in
barracks, each barrack being, divided into wards, with from
sixty to seventy men in each; every lady having a wvard in
her special charge, except Mrs. Tyler, who was lady superintendent, and visited all.  The immediate and constant
nursing was performed by soldiers detailed for the purpose.
Government supplied the ladies with a daily ration costing
fifteen cents, and a free pass on the cars; and this was all
454 
MISS REBECCA R. USHER.
they sought or desired, as remuneration, beyond the consciousness of doing good, and a conviction that their labors
directly promoted the final success of the Union arms.
Among the severely wounded, requiring special attention,
wvas a Confederate officer from South Carolina, who had
been captured in one of the great battles on the Chickahominy.   The bone of his shoulder had been terribly
crushed by a fragment of a shell, so that his right arm was
lashed to his side for eight months.  He was in Miss Newhall's ward; but Miss Usher often called to see that all his
wants were supplied, and became quite interested  in him
as the first specimen of a genuine and full-blooded Southerner that had come under her notice in the hospital. At
times he would grow strong enough to walk up and down
the halls every day for a week or two; and then, his wound
opening, afresh, he would sink almost to the verge of the
grave.  He was but twenty-one years of age, and as his
wound became worse, his suffering depressed his spirits to
the lowest point.  At such times the ladies used every
method to cheer him. They found him well educated, and
intelligent, gentlemanly and refined in his lanrguage, and
polished in his manners.  He was graceful, yet abundant, in
his expressions of gratitude for the kind treatment he re ceived.  One day, when Mrs. Tyler's name was mentioned,
he exclaimed, "She's a noble wvoman, and ought  to live
forever!"
He spoke freely of the conflict going on between the sec tions, and seemed to regret it very much, saying, if the
southern and northern people could have been brought to gether, and exchanged their real sentiments on the value of
455 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the Union to all the states, there would have been no secession and no war, and added that, if he ever lived to get
home, he should do all in his power for the Union prisoners.
One day, in the spring of 1863, he asked Miss Usher if
the North considered their currency worth anything. " 0,
yes," was the reply.  "If I had money to invest, I should
put it into United States bonds in preference to anything
else." lie looked surprised, and added, "Well, we know
ours is worthless." In another conversation that took place
soon after, the young South Carolinian gave a chapter from
his plantation reminiscences that seemed strangely in contrast with the refinement he had hitherto manifested.
" He was telling me about his father," says Miss Usher;
what a careless and indulgent master he was, and that he
wanted him to take charge of the plantation.'This,' he
went on to say,'I agreed to do on one condition -that I
should have entire control of the negroes. After some
hesitation, father consented, and I went to work and laid
dolwn the rules for them.  They early found out that I
would as soon flog father's favorite negroes as any others,
and they began to be afraid of me.
"One day I sent a boy to the grist-mill with a load of
corn. He was absent the greater part of a day, and, when
he came back, said the miller wouldn't grind it. I took him
right into the wagon and drove back to the mill, ascertained that he had been spending the day with the free
negroes in the village, had given out the better part of the
corn among them, and reached the mill too late to have the
grinding done that day.  I turned to the boy, and said,
'Jerry, you deserve a good threshing for this, and
456 
MISS REBECCA R. USHER.
you shall have it too I' Hie started to run.'Run,' said I,
' if you dare I' But when he thought about it he concluded
to stop and take the whipping. He was afraid I would
fire. I had no idea of that, but if he had taken to the
woods I would have had my hounds after him, and pulled
him down in five minutes!"' "His story shocked me," says
Miss Usher; " yet I did not argue the case, but left him to
be instructed by the logic of events. He ran through his
narrative with as much frankness and sang-froid as a
northern man might speak of dismissing a servant that
did not suit him. It had never occurred to him that setting bloodhounds after an escaping slave was improper
treatment for negroes. Yet towards white people no person could be more considerate or polite. At another time
he said,'I don't see how you northern people can stand it
to have negroes brushing by you on the sidewalk. I should
knock them down."' In May, 1863, this polished champion
of southern institutions was so far recovered as to leave
the hospital. He was taken to Baltimore and exchanged,
so that Miss Usher heard no more of him and his views of
plantation discipline.
The next incident that Miss Usher relates is entirely
different.
"One evening," she writes, "Miss Titcomb and I were
sitting in Mrs. Tyler's reception-room  when  we were
startled by the sound of loud weeping in the hall. It
seemed like the voice of an old man; and we went out to
witness one of those touching reunions that can occur only
amid the desolations and fearful uncertainties of a great war.
"An old gentleman had just arrived from Iowa to see his
457 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
son, who had been very ill. This son was nineteen years
of age, and the youngest of five brothers, all of whom
were marchilng, and fighting under the same flag. This one,
while on a visit to his older brother's family, in Illinois,
enlisted in the army of the Mississippi, while his four
brothers were in the Missouri division. The father had malnaged with much difficulty to carry on the large farm alone,
as it was found impossible to hire labor. After various experiences in the West, the youngest of these five soldier
boys had been transferred to the army of the Potomac, and
marched under Burnside to those awful and hopeless charges
on the intrenched lines at Fredericksburg.  A minie ball
pierced his breast, wounding the left lung, and coming out
near the spine. Though apparently a mortal wound, the
vigor of his constitution had carried him past the point of
greatest danger, and he was nearly well when he went out
to the water-side to see a monitor launched. The exposure
was too great; a cold fastened upon the injured lung, and
his life was despaired of.  When lowest he had sent a message to his father from ward A to come on at once.  But
before his father reached Chester his boy had been removed
to ward D.  When the old man arrived, having travelled
iight and day fifteen hundred miles, hoping and praying
that it might not be too late, he saw some soldiers, and
asked them if they were from ward A.  They'said they
were. He then asked if his son was there, describing him
and giving his name.'No; there was no such man in
ward A.'  Presently he met another squad from the same
ward, who gave the same report. Then the old man's heart
sank within him. But he came up to the hospital, and
458 
MISS REBECCA R. USHER.
inquired of several surgeons for such a patient in ward A.
They knew nothing of any such man. Finally, a surgeon
from ward D happened to be present as the father was
repeating the description, and without saying anything,
sent for the young man to come to the office.  Summoned
thus peremptorily, the poor boy crept off his cot, and came
slowly forward through the hall, supposing that a false
charge had been made against him, and he would have to
march off to the guard-house. In a moment he found himself clasped in his father's arms.  It was their first meeting
for two years. The father said it seemed to him as though
he had him back from the grave, and, like another Jacob,
he lifted up his voice and wept.
"He was so pleased with the hospital and satisfied with
the attention his boy received, that after much debate he
concluded to leave him there; and yet he would add, his
eye growing moist again,' I don't know but it will kill his
mother, when she sees me coming back without him!"'
In the early part of the summer of 1863 the Chester hospital was broken up, and for about eighteen imonths Miss
Usher was not engaged in army work.  Early in the winter
of 1864 and 1865 we find her again at the front, near Petersburg, actively laboring for the Maine boys.  The hut in
which she lived and the life of excitement and hardship
which she, with Mrs. Mayhew and Mrs. Eaton, Jed, ale de scribed in a series of letters addressed to her friends at
home. The following by Mrs. Eaton, dated City Point,
December 8, 1864, gives an account of their establishment
there, and the way in which their log hut was built:   "For a week we have been very busy.  The First Maine
459
4 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
heavy artillery detailed men to cut our timber for the stock ade. The second and third batteries sent teams to haul it;
the second battery and first battalion of Maine sharpshooters have sent their men to put it up. WTe are under great
obligations to them for their kindness, as it is against military regulations to detail men from these grounds for such
a purpose.
"Our stockade is now all up and chinked, but we have
no door or fireplace. Our roof is of canvas, and we use
rubber blankets, quilts, and bed-sacks for doors. A nice
little army stove was given me for our use on yesterday.
To-morrow we expect to build the chimney; and all this is
being done while we live within. You may imagine the
confusion, with our pile of stores in the centre, to give
room to set up the logs, and a long procession of our boys
continually coming for what is frequently at the bottom of
the pile. The stockade is forty feet by fifteen, and contains three apartments: at the entrance is a reading-room,
which we mean to make literally a Soldier's Home,' then
our own dormitory and store-room, and in the rear the
cook-house.   We wish to keep our reading-room supplied
with late Maine papers, and with stationery, that the boys
may have facilities for writing here.  Sacks, boxes, and
barrels are piled six feet high on every side."
Here these ladies staid, and devoted themselves to the
work for which they left home, for six months, until Richmond fell, Lee capitulated, and the war was over.
On the 8th of February Miss Usher writes home as
follows: -
"Our vegetables, twenty-eight barrels, came on Monday,
460
0 
MISS REBECCA R. USHER.
tea Baltimore, and yesterday the boys opened them and
picked them over, throwing away those that had been
frozen on the passage. There were twenty barrels of good
potatoes to distribute. All day the soldiers roasted them in
the ashes of the reading-room fire; and some would ask us
for a strip of salt fish, and thus made out, as they said, a
luxurious meal. Could you see how glad the men are of
them, you would feel that it pays to send them, even though
a fourth are lost by freezing. The soldiers come in and ask
for a potato, as if it were the most delicious peach, or a
bunch of Hamburg grapes. A Pennsylvania boy, sick in
one of the wards, heard Mrs. Mayhew say our potatoes had
come; but she supposed they were all frozen, they had been
so long on the way. The next day she received a note from
him, asking if she would be so kind as to let him have a
few of those frozen potatoes. Of course we sent the poor
fellow some nice ones." I
On the 7th of April, just after the great closing battles of
the war, Miss Usher writes home as follows: -
" Dear E.: The wards are filled with the wounded. It
is estimated that there are ten thousand patients in the
hospitals here, and our Maine regiments have suffered
severely.  We are very busy, doing all in our power to
alleviate suffering. Eleven hundred badly wounded were
brought ill on one day.  In the evening the wards are dismal enough-long and narrow, without floors, dimly lighted
with lanterns, and resounding with the groans of the sick
and dying.  Mrs. Mayhew and Mrs. Sampson go to the front
to-morrow. One of us will work there all the time now.
'A few days ago I saw Bridget, who came out with the
461 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
First Michigan cavalry, and has been with the regiment ever
since. She had just come in with the body of a captain
who was killed in a cavalry skirmish. She had the body
lashed to her horse, and carried him fifteen miles, where
she procured a coffin, and sent him home. She says this
is the hardest battle they have had, and the ground was
covered with the wounded. She had not slept for fortyeight hours, having worked incessantly with the wounded.
She is brave, heroic, and a perfect enthusiast in her work.
Bridget said to me, in her earnest way,'Why don't you
ladies go up there, and take care of those wounded men?
Why, it's the worst sight you ever saw. The ground is
covered with them.'' We should like to go,' I said,'but
they won't let us.'' Well, they can't hinder mae,' she said;
Sheridan won't let them.'"
Mrs. Mayhew, in speaking of her life before Petersburg,
during the winter and spring of 1865, refers to Miss Usher
ill the following language: "My labors here were shared
by Aliss Rebecca R. Usher, of Hollis, Maine.  By her warm
interest in the cause, and her highly cultivated mind, she
added much to my happiness, and lightened those days
of toil."
In a letter home, dated the 28th of May, and written
from Alexandria, Miss Usher gives the following incidents
of her hospital experiences there and at City Point:  One of our patients - a young man, twenty-two years
old - had an amputation of the thigh bone, near the body,
and we nursed him very anxiously, hoping he might recover, yet fearing the worst; but in a few days he was
seized with one of those slight chills which do not seem an
462 
MISS REBECCA R. USHER.
alarming symptom, but to the eye of an experienced surgeon indicate great danger. As he was gradually sinking,
I wrote daily to his mother, informing her of every change.
One morning, as I was standing at his bedside, he took a
package of letters from under his pillow, and handing them
to me, said,'I want you to keep these for me.' Then he
gave me a lady's ring, saying, feebly,'If I die -youwill answer these letters - won't you?-and return- the
ring.' Waiting some time, to gain a little strength, he
said, suddenly,'Bend your ear close down to my lips.' I
bent over him, and he said, in an earnest tone, as if his
whole heart was in the words,'Tell her I loved her all the
while!'   I will,' I said; when he looked into my face with
a satisfied expression, and soon fell asleep. Shortly after I
found it my duty to open the package and perform the sad
work to which the dying lover had commissioned me.
Mrs. C., a widow lady, living in  Ioulton, Maine,
had lost one son in the war, and came to our hospital in
search of her youngest boy, from whom she had received a
letter, stating that in battle before Richmond, he had lost
one leg, was wounded in the other, and was on his way to
City Point. After waiting a fortnight, and hearing nothing
more from him, she set out for Washington, and wrote to
us for information. The state agent, Mr. Hayes, searched
the hospital records through, but could find no account of
him. Then she came down to City Point, but we could
give her little encouragement. The supposition was, that
he had died on the way from one hospital to another, and
was buried as  unknown.'   Mr. Hayes, however, offered
to go up to the front, and hunt for him. Next evening he
463 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
returned with the cheering report that he was alive and
doing very well in one of the hospitals.'Now,' said I,
'Mrs. C., you'll sleep to-night -won't you?'    0, no,'
she replied;'I'm too happy. I can't sleep nlow till I'm at
his side.' And the next day she joined her boy."
464  
;;;;~;;;j 
MOTHER BYCKERDYKE.
MAONG the many noble women whose names will be
forever enshrined with those of the brave defenders
of their country, that of Mrs. Byckerdyke, of Illinois, will
be held in especial honor. From no merely romantic impulse, but acting from the dictates of her mature sense of,
duty, she entered the service of the country as a volunteer
nurse for its soldiers early in the war, and continued her
work of patriotic charity until the war closed. By all
those who remain of the armies who conquered their way
down the Mississippi, Mrs. Byckerdyke'is affectionately
and gratefully remembered, as one of the most constant,
earnest, determined, and efficienlt laborers for their health
and comfort in the hospital and in the field.
Mrs. Byckerdyke, who is a woman of middle age, commenced her labors for the soldiers in August, 1861, whenat hei own solicitation, and because her judgment was
confided in-she was sent from Galesburg, Illinois, to
Cairo, to ascertain what was needed by the troops stationed
there. After ascertaining the condition of affairs there and
reporting, her Galesburg friends advised her to remain,
which she did, exerting all her energies to remedy the
many miseries attending the establishment of a large camp
of soldiers, nearly all of whose officers were as ignorant of
30                                 (465)
4 
W3OMEN OF THE WAR.
camp discipline as themselves. When the battle of Belmont sent a large number of the wounded to the Brigade
Hospital at Mound City, she went there, and remained until
the most of them were sent to their homes.
Returning herself to her home, she barely continued
long enough to put her household in order for a more prolonged absence.  She had enlisted for the war.  At the
bloody field of Donelson - where  the sufferings of our
wounded were most distressing, from the lack of medical
attendance and the severity of the weather - she was Untiring in her efforts for the poor fellows. She took a
prominent part in shipping five boat-loads of wounded
men, her kind and motherly care doing more than aught
else to save the soldiers from neglect. Hardly through
with this severe labor of love, she was in a few days called
to Pittsburg Landing, to assist in the care of the immense
numbers of wounded men for whomi the provisions of the
medical department were not half adequate.  She stationed
herself at Savannah, ten miles below Pittsburg Landiing,
where the most of our wounded were brought.  An ilncident of her experience while there will illustrate her
character better than anything we can say. It was told
us by an officer who was at Savannah at the time.
Governor Harvey, of Wisconsin, had been visiting the
field of battle, and the hospitals there and af Savannah,
to learn what was the condition and what were the wants
of the soldiers from his state. He had a small but excellent staff of volunteer surgeons, and ten tons of the best
sanitary supplies.  He saw every sick and wounded Wisconsin soldier individually, and gave to all the medical
a66 
MIOTHER BYCKERDYKE.
attendance and sanitary supplies they needed. Our informant could not restrain the tears as he recalled the kind
acts, the cordial and sympathetic greetings of this noblehearted governor, whose life was so suddenly ended in its
prime by a distressing casualty.   After his work was
through, Governor Harvey met our friend at the Savannah
levee, perfectly satisfied that he had done all in his power,
and happy that he had been permitted to do so much good.
He had still five tons of sanitary stores left, and had been
in great doubt as to what to do with them. He distrusted
the surgeons in charge at Savannah, and finally concluded to
turn over the stores to Mrs. Byckerdyke. He had known
nothing of her antecedents, and had only seen her while at
Savannah. Still, as he told our friend, he observed how
efficient she was, with how much business-like regularity
she was performing her work, and that honesty, decision,
and judgment seemed written on her plain but good-looking
face.  He would trust her, and no one else.
After the governor's death, Mrs. Byckerdyke began to
suspect that her supplies were diverted to the private uses
of a certain surgeon's mess.   She resolved to stop that,
and did, in a very summary manner.  Going into the tent
of this surgeon just before dinner, she discovered on the
table a great variety of the jellies, wines, and other comforts belonging to her stores.  She at once made a%clean
sweep of these articles, went straight down to the levee,
took a boat to Pittsburg Landing, saw General Grant, and
within twenty-four hours had the guilty surgeon under
arrest.   The surgeons had little disposition to interfere
with her or her stores after this example, and the sick and
467 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
wounded men rejoiced to find that their faithful friend had
won so complete a victory.
Occupied all the time of the Corinth campaign with the
wounded in the rear of General Halleck's army, she was
put in charge of the Main Hospital at Corinth, when our
force entered that place. While there her indomitable
force and determination to serve the soldiers had another
trial and another victory. Learning that a brigade was to
march through the hospital grounds, and knowing that the
soldiers would be nearly exhausted from their long march
under a burning sun, she got out her barrels of water which
had been brought for the men in hospital, had a corps of
her assistants ready with pails and dippers, and gave the
soldiers water as they passed through. When the commanding officer came up, Mrs. Byckerdyke asked that the
men be halted; but he refused, and, going ahead, ordered
his men to march along.  At the same time a voice in the
rear - that of Mrs. Byckerdyke - was heard giving the
reverse order, "Halt! " in very clear tones. The woman's
order was obeyed, and the "Tin Cup Brigade" worked energetically for a few minutes, rejoicing in the triumph of
their commander.
At the siege of Vicksburg Mrs. Byckerdyke undertook
the difficult task of correcting abuses in the use and distribution of sanitary supplies. The lasting gratitude of the
sick and wounded, and the approval of the higher officers
in command, attest the fidelity and efficiency with which
she executed this trust. She was not at all times a welcome guest to the agents and officers having in charge
sanitary supplies. One of these latter applied to head
468 
MOTHER BYCKERDYKEE. 
quarters to have a woman removed from his hospital, on
the complaint of improper influence.  "Who is she?" ill.quired the general.  "A Mrs. Byckerdyke," replied the
major. " 0, well," said the general, "she ranks me,: you
must apply to President Lincoln."
After the battles of Mission Ridge and Lookout Mountain she remained in the field thirty days, till the last of the
wounded were removed to northern hospitals, working with
all her remarklable energy, and with her iuntiring determination, that the soldiers should be well cared for. On the
Atlantic campaign she followed the army with a laundry,
and hadcl daily from fifteen hundred to two thousand pieces
wsahedcl, besides the bandages and rags used in dressing
wounds.  In addition to this work, which was more than
enough for one woman to perform, she superintended the
cooking for the field hospitals, and, when the commissary
stores failed, supplied the tables from those of the Chris tiau and Sanitary Commissions.   To meet emergencies,
she has been known to take passage in an afternoon train,
ride fifteen miles, get her supplies to the hospital, and
have the bread baked and distributed to over a thousand
patients the same day, and in proper season.
Perhaps a good idea of the nature and value of the labors
of Mrs. Byckerdyke can best be given from an extract of a
letter, written from Chattanooga by Mrs. Porter, -another
noble laborer for the soldiers, -soon after the battle there.
Mrs. Porter says,    "I reached this place on New Year's Eve, making the
trip of the few miles from Bridgeport to Chattanooga in
twenty-four hours.  New Year's morning was very cold.
469
p 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
I went immediately to the field hospital, about two miles
out of town, where I found Mrs. Byckerdyke hard at work,
as usual, endeavoring to comfort the cold and suffering
sickl and wounded. The work done on that day told most
happily on the comfort of the poor wounded men.
"The wind came sweeping around Lookout Mountain,
and unliting with currents from the valleys of Missionary
Ridg,e, pressed in upon the hospital tents, overturning
some, and making the inmates of all tremble with cold and
anxious fear. The cold had been preceded by a great rain,
which added to the general discomfort. Mrs. Byckerdyke
went from tent to tent in the gale, carrying hot bricks and
hot drinks, to warm and to cheer the poor fellows.'She is
a power of good,' said one soldier.'We fared mighty
poor till she come here,' said another.'God bless the
Sanitary Commission,' said a third,'for sending women
among us!' The soldiers fully appreciate' Mother Byckerdyke,'- as they call her, - and her work. 
" MAIrs. Byckerdyke left Vicksburg at the request of General Sherman and other officers of his corps, as they wished
to secure her services for the then approaching battle. The
field hospital of the Fifteenth (Sherman's) army corps was
situated on the north bank of the Genesee River, on a
slope at the base of Missionary Ridge, where, after the
battle was over, seventeen hundred of our wounded and exhausted soldiers were brought. Mrs. Byckerdyke reached
there before the din and smoke of battle were well over,
and before all were brought from the field of blood and carnage.  There she remained the only female attendant for
four weeks.  Never has she rendered more valuable service.
470 
MOTHER BYCKERDYKE.
Dr. Newberry arrived in Chattanooga with sanitary goods,
which Mrs. Byckerdyke had the pleasure of using, as she
says,  just when and where needed;' and never were sanitary goods more deeply felt to be good goods.'What
could we do without them?' is a question I often hear
raised, and answered with a hearty'God bless the Sanitary
Commission,' which is now everywhere acknowledged as
a great power for good.'
"The field hospital was in a forest, about five miles from
Chattanooga; wood was  abundant,  and the camp  was
warmed by immense burning'log heaps,' which were the
only fireplaces or cooking-stoves of the camp or hospitals.
Men were detailed to fell the trees and pile the logs to
heat the air, which was very wintry; and beside them Mrs.
Byckerdyke made soup and toast, tea and coffee, and broiled
mutton, without a gridiron, often blistering her fingers in
the process. A house in due time was demolished to make
bunks for the worst cases, and the brick from the chimney
was converted into an oven, when Mrs. Byckerdyke made
bread, yeast having been found in the Chicago boxes, and
flour at a neighboring mill, which had furnished flour to
secessionists through the war until now. Great multitudes
were fed from these rude kitchens. Companies of hungry
soldiers were refre ed before those open fireplaces and
those ovens." 
We will merely add a few words in conclusion. Mrs.
Byckerdyke not only performed a great work in the field,
but several times visited the leading cities of the North-west,
and by her judicious advice did much to direct aright the
enthusiastic patriotism and noble charity of the ladies of
.0.
471 
WOi-iEN OF THE WAR.
that region.  They  needed  no  stimulus  to effort.  Distinguished from the outset of her efforts by her practical
good sense, firmness in maintainiing the rights of the soldiers, and an uneeasing energy, she was soon known among
all the western soldiers as one of their best and most
faithful friends. In addition to the consciousness of having
performed her whole duty, Mrs. Byckerdyke has another
reward in the undying gratitude of the thousands of gallant
fellows who have received or witnessed her motherly
ministrations. May she live long to enjoy both of these
rewards for her good deeds.
472 
AIRS. ANN IIITZ.
N  all the large cities along the border there were  a
number of ladies whose  age or whose family cares
did not allow them to leave home for sanitary enterprises,
who, notwithstanding these circumstances, performed a
large amount of very valuable hospital service. Washingtonl city, especially, furnished many of these local visitors,
and among them none, perhaps, was more active, or impelled by higher motives, than the wife of the resident
Swiss consul, Mr. John Hitz.
The circumstance that Mrs. Hitz is a foreign lady makes
her conduct the more praiseworthy.   Many of the ladies
were drawn towards the army by the strongest ties.
They had sons, brothers, husbands, and old neighbors in
the various regiments.  In hospitals they often met those
they had known all their lifetime, and when bathing a
fevered head, or banldaging a shattered arm, the thought
would often arise, "Perhaps some other woman is at this
moment doing this very kindness to my brother."  But the
charity of Mrs. IJitz could have no such incentives.  The
union of the American states was a political question in 
which she could not be expected to feel a direct interest.
The number of Swiss enlisted in the Union ranks was small;
but the fact that she spoke the languages of Central Europe,
(473) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
and could appreciate the feelings of tle Germans, and address them in their mother tongue, made her presence in
the Washington hospitals peculiarly grateful to that large
class of recruits who could speak but little Englisih.
Mly labors among the soldiers," says Mrs. Hitz, " began
with the first arrival of volunteers in Washington. The
weary, travel-worn men, thankful for a kind word, a cup of
coffee, a piece of bread, were always made welcome by my
husband and myself. It was some time before I saw the
necessity of the Aid Societies, and other organizations,
which we afterwards found so useful.
Among the arrivals of troops just before the first battle at Bull Run were the Twelfth and Twenty-fifth New
York.   They were quartered on Capitol Hill, near the
Gasparis House.  WVet and weary when they arrived, no
preparation had been made to receive them, no refreshments were at hand, and the commissary arrangements
were imperfect. Our house was near the camp, and my
husband threw open our doors, and we went to work with
a will.
"All the boilers we could find were filled with coffee,
and we collected all the bread we could either buy or beg.
Among these volunteers we  found some  little German
drummer boys, one of them so homesick for his mother!
0, madame,' he would exclaim,'may I come ar  see yon
every day?  You are so like my mother!'  Poor boy!  In
a day or two marching orders came, and they went out to
that first, disastrous battle.   When he came to bid me
good-by, he said,'Please pray for me and my comrade;
he has no mother.' The tears fell as I asked God to bless
474
m 
MRS. ANN HITZ.
them both. They were in the engagement the next day;
one was killed and the other taken prisoner, but managed
to make his escape.
"My husband, as Swiss consul, and a member of the German Aid Society, visited the hospitals almost daily, and
becoming, well known, whenever a patient was brought in
whose language could not be understood, we were sent for.
One poor man from New YorkCity, whose mind was much
affected by his sufferings, could not be induced to take any
food except such as I cooked and carried him.   In his
delirium he imagined that I was indeed his mother, and that
the nurse was trying to poison him.
On his return to the No:th, as he passed through Baltimore, he recognized the place where the regiment to which
he belonged had been attacked by the mob, and recovered
his wandering senses. From his brother I afterwards received a letter of grateful acknowledgments for what I had
been able to do for him in his suffering and helpless condition.
"One of the nurses at Armory Square Hospital sent me
word that there was a patient there whose language no one
of them could understand. On going down I found a poor
German, suffering sadly from a wounded limb, unable to
make his wants known, and apparently about to die.
"As soon as I spoke to him, the effect of a few words of
his mother tongue operated like magic. For some time I
attended him daily, and all seemed well, till one day a
sudden change came upon him. He sent a special message
to me, and I took with me a priest to his bedside, as he
was a Catholic. We saw him die in peace.
475 
WOMEN OF THE'WAR.
"After the great battle of Antietam, when even the
Capitol was crowded with the wounded, Dr. Campbell came
to me one mnorning,, and wished me to visit one of his
patients in the old House of Representatives.  I found there
a poor fellow from Pennsylvania refusing to take either
food or medicine, but begging for some one to pray for him.
I knelt by his cot, and when I arose he was calm, and
willing to do anything I advised him. He recovered, and
always insisted that it was that prayer that saved his life.
"At Mount Pleasant Hospital there was another patient
who had not found any one who could understand a word
he said,till they sent for me.
" He was delirious, and believed the nurses, and even his
own wife, who had now come to attend him, were trying
to poison him, and he would not take a mouthful of food.
After praying with him and dressing his wounds, he grew
calm, and consented to do everything I wished of him.
Several cases like this came under my care, and I found
no difficulty in managing them. My only secret was, that I
never lost patience with them, listened quietly to all their
complaints, sympathized with their hardships, and gradually
led them to do what was for the best."
Miss Hall, Mrs. Fowle, and all who were active in the
WVashingtonl hospitals, unite in their praises of Mrs. Hitz.
Hundreds of sick and dying Germans'made her their
mother confessor, and she could be seen almost every day
sitting by the cot of some sufferer, and reading blessed
words of heavenly consolation in tones that recalled the
fatherland and the home from which they were so far away.
Sho was beloved and honored by a great number of
476 
MRS. ANN HITZ.
American soldiers, whose names she never knew, and whose
faces she has forgotten.
"When travelling in the East," she writes, "I have been
at many places unexpectedly recognized by fine-looking
young men, who came forward with,' Mother Hitz,
don't you remember me?'  My experience,"  she  adds,
among the American soldiers has been altogether a most
pleasant one.  Certainly more patient, God-fearing men
could not be found in any army; and it is but a just tribute
to the young men of this country for me to say, that in all
my visits among them in camps and hospitals, as long as
the war continued, I never heard a word improper for the
ear of a lady."
477 
"AUNT LIZZIE" AND  MOTIIER."
A     MONG a great number of unostentatious, but effective
and noble-hearted hospital nurses, who labored with
the sick of Granlt's and Sherman's armies in the West, two,
who went from Peoria, Illinois, deserve special mention.
Neither matrons nor lady superintendents, they have left
a record of love, admiration, and gratitude on the hearts of
thousands whom they saw and nursed in the hospitals.
They were Miss Lizzie Aiken and Mrs. Sturgis, or,
as the soldiers always called them, "Aunt Lizzie" and
"Mother."
Although they labored at other points, it is for their work
in the Memphis Hospitals that they are principally known
and most affectionately remembered.
Their appearance, language, service, and the extent of
their usefulness will best be understood from the letters of
soldiers who were under their care, and saw most of their
life at Memphis.
Charles M. Kendall, a Wisconsin soldier, writes, " On
the 2d of February, 1863, I was sent to the Adams Hospital, in Memphis, having met with a serious accident in
breaking one of my shoulders, so as to disable me for field
service. The first word of consolation that I received was
(478) 
" AUNT LIZZIE " AND  3 MOTIIER." P
from'Aunt Lizzie.'  She came to me with these words:
' My dear boy, what can I do for you?'
"I felt sure from that moment, that, as long as she staid
in the hospital, I should not want for ainything.  After I
was able to do duty, I was put in charge of one of the
wards.  There I had an opportunity of seeing, what the
ladies were doing to alleviate the sufferings of our brave
boys.   About this time I also became acquainted with
'Mother.'  Every one called her by that lname; and for me,
it was easy to follow their example, for she seemed to have
the feelings of a mother for all of us. I do not suppose
any soldier ever asked for anything he ought to have, that
she did not procure it.  If she could not get it of the Commissions, she would buy it for him with her own money.
I saw her in the wards by night and by day for months,
preparing and giving suitable food to the sickest of the
men.
"A careful observation of over two years has taught me
that nursing is fully as important as medicine. In the
wards where there was the best nlursing, there were always
the fewest deaths.
"When the sanitary stores were nearly expended, these
ladies hit upon the idea of getting up a Soldiers' Fair, from
which they realized quite a large sum of money.  Whenever
they could find time, they would go from house to. house
asking, for donations.
Thou,gh spurned from some doors, and insulted at other
houses, they never faltered, but kept on till they were
successful. The money thus obtained was judiciously expended, and the amount of good accomplished cannot be
estimated.
479 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
"Towards the close of the war, when some  of  the
Andersonville prisoners were brought up the Mississippi
River, the boat on which they came remained several hours
at Memphis.  These ladies were soon on board, working
with a will; and many a poor, starving soldier was feelingly
refreshed in body and mind by the visit of these angels of
mercy.  Often did I hear the exclamation,'God bless that
woman! Why, she talks just like mother; and who is she,
that she takes so much interest in my welfare?'
Then, again, when that terrible disaster took place, the
explosion of the Sultana, as usual they were on hand, doing
all in their power for the sufferers. I have knlownl a great
many men ill their dying moments send for some lady to
come and talk with them.  How often have I seen'Mother'
sit by their cots and point them  to the Lamb of God!
Doubtless many a soul is happy in heaven to-day, saved
through the influence of that Christian woman ill the dying
hours of life.
"These ladies can never receive their full reward till they
hear the welcome plaudits in the blessed kingdom. Many
other ladies there were, who, for their noble course,
deserve all the praise that words call bestow. Some of
them are dead, and their names will never appear in human
histories; but the good they accomplished will never be
forgotten by us private soldiers."
Another soldier, Charles P. Hopkins, of Indiana, furnishes the following charming sketch of'Aunt Lizzie' in the
hospital, and the reputation these ladies enjoyed among
the western soldiers:  "I entered the United States army," says he, "Company
480 
" AUNT LIZZIE" AND " MOTHER."
K, 7th Kansas cavalry, John Brown, Jr., my captain, ill
September, 1861.  Nothing worth record occurred till October, 1862, when we were at Rienzi, Mississippi, and took
part in the ever-memorable battle of Corinth. There I first
saw the true heroism of our noble northern ladies, flitting
from one to another of the wounded, speaking words of
comfort, cheering  the  depressed,  binding  up  wounds,
moistening the lips of those from the front who came
nearly perishing with thirst and loss of blood.
Soon after this battle I was taken sick, and sent to
Paducah, where I heard boundless praises of'Aunt Lizzie'
and'Mother Sturgis.'
"So often did I hear them mentioned, and in terms so
warm, that I came to look upon them as angels in disguise.
In March, 1863, I was discharged, but during the following summer regained my health, and reenlisted in the 7th
Indiana cavalry.   The winter following,was very severe.
Many of our boys fell a prey to disease, myself among the
nlumber. On the 1st of March, 1864, I was sent to the
Adams Hospital, in Memphis.
"Hear I first saw'Aunt Lizzie,'of whom I had heard the
boys speak in such exalted terms.  I was very sick at the
time.  Three of my comrades had been numbered with the
dead, and I had given up all hopes of again
'Mounting barb6d steeds to fright the souls of fearful adversaries,'
but lay calmly waiting for what might come, when'Aunt
Lizzie' came through our ward. How well do I remember
that evening! Let me describe her as I saw her then.  A
little old lady, dressed in brown, with a red sontag over
31
481 
WOMEN OF TIlE WAR.
her shoulders; black hair, interlaced with silver, and neatly
brushed.  She carried a pair of silver-bowed spectacles in
her left hand, and with the right, which looked smooth and
soft, she grasped the hand or stroked the forehead of every
patient as she came to his bedside, all the while speaking
words of comfort, and throwing out her sympathies broadcast, with smiles so winning and motherly, that tears would
moisten our eyes, and great unspoken words of love and
gratitude well up from the hearts of us poor sufferers as
she passed.
" When she came to my cot with that kindly touch on my
forehead and the stereotyped inquiry, in a tone so sympathetic that it could never grow old,'Well, my boy, how do
you do to-day?  Are you better?' it was too much for me.
I cried, and could have fallen down and done homage to a
spirit so saintly. From that hour I began to get well, and
was soon strong enough to do light service around the
hospital.  So they made me baggage master, and I had
charge of all the boys' knapsacks as they were brought in.
I often visited'Aunt Lizzie' and'Mother Sturgis' in their
room, and found that they gave, not only the whole day,
but a part of the night, to these labors of charity.  The
day was spent chiefly in the different wards in nursing the
sickest patients. After the gas was lighted, there they sat,
'Mother' on one side of a table,'Aunt Lizzie' oirthe other,
mending the blue retgulationl pants or the frock of some
neglectedc soldier boy, or darning a pile of socks, and singing,'Home,  sweet home,' or,  We  are coming, Father
Abraham.'
"It was a treat to go through'Aunt Lizzie's' ward with
482 
e AUNT LIZZIE" AND' MOTI-IER."
her. She knew the state from which every one of them
enlisted, and would say, " IHow are you now, Wisconsin?'
or,'How does my Michigan boy feel this morning?' and,
'Indiana, how  is he?' and so on all through the ward.
They would smile in all their pain when she was talking
with them.  Did they ask for anything, she did all in her
power to procure it for them, frequently taking from her
own scanty allowance to purchase an article if it was not
among the stores.   Never weary, always ready; no matter
at what hour, if help was wanting, she was there.
And' Mother'- no day was  too long or night too
dreary for her. Often I found her at midnight beside the
cot of some poor boy about to enter the vastUnknown; the
tear of sympathy in her eye, putting to his lips some cooling draught, or trying to stay the fast-ebbing sands of his
life with some carefully-mixed punch  or  egg-nog,  the
materials for which she had bought frop her own slender
purse. There were others in this hospital who performed
excellent service-Mrs. Brake and Jenny Matheson in wards
B and C.   Letty Covell was to be found from early dawn
till late at night in the diet kitchen of ward B, and Mrs.
WVebb in the kitchen of ward A, while our two noble
'IMaggies,' as we called them, Miss Miller and Miss Staffer,
had charge of the linen-room."
No correct estimate can ever be had of the good ac complished by these quiet, earnest, Christian nurses during
the four years of their unceasing devotion.
When the war was almost over, " Aunt Lizzie" stated to
a friend that she had kept count of nearly all, and it was
then about three thousand soldiers to whom she had read
483 
rWOMEN OF THE WAR.
passages of the Bible, with whom she had prayed, and
whose eyes she had then closed in death.  In how many
cases these dying exercises were of unspeakable importance
to the parting soul, is known only to the recording angel.
But in reflecting upon such opportunities of Christian usefulness so admirably improved, we are permitted to suppose
that they will not fail to win for her at last the golden
sentence, "They that turn many  to righteousness shall
shine as the stars forever and ever."
484 
MISS MARY  E. DUPEE.
ISS DUPEE, of Portland, Maine, for about a year
M~~~~~~~~~~~
acted as a nurse at the Naval School Hospital, in
Annapolis, and afterwards went to the Union lines before
Richmond, as an agent of the Maine Camp and Hospital
Association, where she remained till the war ended.
She went to Annapolis, in company with Miss Susan
Newhall, of Portland, on the 3d of August, 1863. These
young ladies here found a broad and most interesting field
of labors, engaging at once the activities of the hands and
the deepest sympathies of the heart.,
Miss Dupee had thirteen wards assigned to her for regular visitation, each ward containing from six to eight cots;
and much of the time every cot was occupied.
The majority of the patients at this hospital were Union
soldiers, just released from the horrible and infamous rebel
prison pens at Andersonville, Salisbury, Belle Isle, and
the Libby. Here they came, in all their rags and squalor,
to be clothed, fed, nursed, and cheered; to be cwnsoled
into forgetfulness of the atrocious scenes they had so long
witnessed; to be reassured of the gratitude and sympathy
of their friends at home; many of them, alas! only to have
their eyes closed by Christian hallds, and their skeleton
frames laid to rest in Christian graves.
(485) 
WOMEN OF THIE WAR.
They dropped the filthy rags that hardly covered their
wasted forms outside the doors of the building, and after
being thoroughly washed and dressed in clean shirts and
drawers, were laid in comfortable beds.  Then the ladies
could commence their ministries of sympathy and kindness.
At first the poor fellows, starved as they were, did not
think much about food. They were content to lie perfectly
still, and wonder if it was really so, that they were alive
and dressed in clean clothes, and if these were real women
who came to their bedsides with cambric handkerchiefs
fragrant with cologne, giving them words of the tenderest pity, more refreshing than their perfume.
As soon as they were in some degree comfortable, the
first request was for paper and pen and ink, that they
might write home. Many were too weak to do this for
themselves, and the ladies in those cases acted as secretaries.  Nothing seemed to give more satisfaction than to
have a lady pass some time at their bedside and listen to
the fearful story of their life in the stockade - the horrors,
the sickness, the slow starvation, the uncounted deaths.
In two or three days, those whose constitutions were not
entirely sapped would commence to rally; and then such
hunger! Their diet was regulated by the surgeons, but
considerable discretion was allowed Miss Dupee and her
associates in adding to the regular fare such harmless delicacies as custards, eggs, jellies, with which they were liberally supplied by the different Commissions. Miss Hall,
the lady superintendent, says that many of them, when recovering, had apparently no other aim or thought beyond
getting enough to eat. Yet so deep had been the inroads
486 
MISS MARY E. DUPEE.
of the long succession of hardships upon those colnstitutions, which a few months before were vigorous, that it was
a long time before the most generous diet seemed to restore
health. Many would rally, and mend for some weeks, and
then in some unaccountable way be found dead in their cots
in the morning.  Some believed that rebel malignity had
added a slow and subtile poison to the little food they had
to eat in the stockade.
The ladies visited each patient once a day, and the very
sick as much oftener as possible; reading to some, writing
for others, talking with all.
We are not used to this sort of treatment," they would
say, "but rather to being spit upon, like dogs!"
The soldiers called the ladies "sunbeams," and they were
justly proud of the title. One would slowly turn his head
to find among the cots the bearded face of a fellow-sufferer,
and then call out, "I say, partner, dqn't it seem like a
streak of daylight to see these girls walking 4round our
beds here?"
Among the Belle Isle prisoners Miss Dupee found a very
interesting boy, from Durham, Maine, only eighteen years
old. When she first saw him he was lying on his cot look ing so happy and contented that she could hardly think he
had a trouble. He showed some bad-looking sores on his
feet and hands which were quite painful.  His head aid eyes
were so weary and weak, that he could not read;  and she
made it a special duty to pass an hour every day with him,
reading to him and talking. Nothing appeared to give him
so much pleasure as her visits. He seemed in a fair way to
487 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
recover, and could sit up occasionally, and go out on the
walk a little while when it was pleasant. The surgeon said
he would never be fit for line service again, as his sight
was dimmed, and he told him he would try and get him a
discharge.  This delighted him very much; and as she entered the ward he exclaimed, " 0, Miss Dupee, the doctor
has promised my discharge to-morrow. Are not you glad?"
She congratulated him, and assured him of her heartfelt
sympathy. She had brought a few lines of poetry, which
she found in a newspaper, and read to him.  Then she
bade him good night.  Two hours after he sprang suddenly from his bed in a convulsion, and expired almost
instantly.  Poor fellow! it was not the discharge he was
loolking, for.
Another of her patients lived in St. Louis.  He had
been very ill, and was promised a furlough as soon he could
bear the journey. Ile improved rapidly, and wrote home
the good hiews that he would be strong enough to start in a
few dclays. Two of his sisters had deferred their wedding
days while he was in prison, but when he was so much better,
concluded to wait no longer, and were married the same
eveningi.  All at once his disease assumed a new form, and
he entered upon his rest.  Touching and sad beyond comparisonil was the letter Miss Dupee received from his sisters
in answer to hers, giving all the details of their-brother's
death and burial.
After passing nearly a year in these wards of the Naval
School Hospital, Miss Dupee, early in the year 18G5, went
to City Point and joined Mrs. Mayhew and Miss Usher,
488 
MISS MARY E. DUPEE.
who were devoted principally to ascertaining and relieving
the wants of soldiers from Maine.
The association in Portland, though not large, was very
active, and kept these noble women abundantly supplied
with everything that could in any way add to the comfort
and happiness of the men..
The Maine agency was a wonder in the army before Petersburg, and the care taken by that state of her volunteers
a subject of remark among all the troops.  "Next time I
enlist," was a frequent saying with the boys, "it will be
in a Maine regiment."  Miany belongingo to other states
came to the Maine agency. The ladies always helped them
when they could do so without denying, their own men.
Sometimes those who claimed to be from Maine did not
know whether it was the name of a town, a city, or a state.
Some amusing revelations of geographical knowledge would
often take place when Mrs. Mayhew or,Miss Dupee would
question them about their homes in Maine.   But the rule
of conlfining the supplies to men from that state was by no
means strict, and few ever left the "log cabin" without
takiing, with them something from Maine.
After the capture of Richmond the agency was removed
to Alexandria, and there Miss Dupee and her associates
continued to search for men from their state in the hospi tals, and to supply the wants of the Maine regiments within
their reach, until the grand armies of the Union were dis banded, and the great hospitals emptied.
In reviewing her camp and hospital labors, Miss Dupee
says, "I look back upon my time passed in this work as
489
k 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
being the most satisfactory of any period in my life.  I
shall ever be thankful that I was able to contribute in any
degree to the comfort of our brave soldiers, for it is an
experience that I prize above everything else. God grant
that those who have been spared may never have cause to
feel that they are neglected or despised by those in whose
defence they gave up everything but life itself!"
490 
MRS. ELIZABETH MENDENHALL,
AND OTHER WORKERS AT CINCINNATI.
IN  most of the important cities near the border there
were a large number of those who became, during the
war, regular hospital visitors, devoting a part, and often the
whole, of each day to the sick and wounded whom they
found in the wards of the various military hospitals. In
Cincinnati, where there were suffering soldiers from the
summer of 1861 till the conclusion of the war in 1865,
among the most active and constant in these labors was
Mrs. Mendenhall.  Though reared in richmond, she was
one of those Southern women whose natural kindness of
heart and sympathy with suffering prevented her from ever
defending or sustaining the social institutions of that portion of the country; and when the rebellion broke out,
though her relatives were citizens of the South, a war for
the perpetuation of slavery seemed to her so utterly unjust
and iniquitous, that all her sympathies were enlisted on the
side of the Union and its defenders. At the firstscall to
arms she was active in suggesting and regulating the
industry of those sewing circles which were organized in all
loyal communities, and which were so useful in perfecting
and renewing the wardrobe of our volunteers.
Early in the year 1862 Cincinnati began to be a hospital
(491) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
centre for the army operating under General Grant, and in
a few weeks was filled with the blood-stained heroes of
Fort Donelson and Pittsburg Landing.  For the two years
and a half that followed, Mrs. Mendenhall was a constant
hospital visitor and nurse.   She always spent half, but
more frequently the whole, of each day among the sick and
wounded, working in any capacity that she could to increase their comfort. As her excellence in judgment and
skill as a nurse became known, the surgeons in charge gave
her great facilities and such needful authority to regulate
the affairs of each ward as she thought best. She enjoyed,
also, the entire confidence of the United States Sanitary
Commission, and had an understanding with its agents, by
virtue of which she could go to their rooms and take supplies of anythilng she found on hand  suitable  for her
patients.
Oni the recurrence of the national, holidays, as Thanksgivingo  and  Independence, she was specially active  in
securing, from a generous public, a bountiful supply of
provisions, to enable the wounded and convalescent soldiers
to forget the grim necessity that separated them from their
own homes.
Labors and charities of this character occupied her
time until the fall of 1863, when her activity took a
larger range, and was exhibited on a more conspicuous
theatre.
It was the pen of Mrs. Mendenhall that first stirred the
citizens of Cincinnati to emulate the splendid enterprise
of her sister and rival city, Chicago, in the inauguration of
the Great Western Sanitary Fair. In that noble work she
492 
MRS. ELIZABETH MENDENHALL.
took among the lady managers the position of leader, as
well by her natural force of character, as by the excellent
spirit which prompted her labors.
She prepared and sent abroad among the communities of
the great North-West an appeal to all classes and ages,
every trade and occupation, and all the professions, to
contribute whatever they could to make the Fair a magnificent success, and give it the scope of a national en
terprise.
Another and special appeal was also made by her to
Patriotic Young Ladies of the North-1,1est, and of Cincinnati in particular, interested in the welfare of the
soldiers," asking them that, "instead of laboring to make
valuable presents, on the approaching holidays, to those
who did not stand in need of comforts, that they make
such articles and donate them to the Fair, for the benefit
of those brave men whohad sacrificed home, firiends, and
all that was dear to them, to defend their homes."
During the months of November, December, and January,
Mirs. Mendenhall was wholly engrossed with the business
of the Great Fair, and she and all her co-laborers were
abundantly paid for their exertions in the unequalled success with which those splendid works were crowned. The
princely sum of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars
was realized, and paid over to the United States Sanitary
Commission, as the result of the Great WVestern Sanitary
Fair of Cincinnati.
After the excitement and labors of the Fair were ended,
Mrs. Mendenhall resumed her customary round of hospital
visits. This course of life continued till the war ended,
493 
WOMEN OF THE weA.
and the military hospitals of Cincinnati were disorganized.
Whlile the war lasted, during four years, she had not been
absent from the city, or failed of her customary hospital
visits, for five days.  Among the very great number of
different soldiers whom she saw in her visits, many interested her very much by the patience with which they bore
their sufferings, and by the spirit of unquestioning and unbounded loyalty which animated their breast, and inspired
their actions.
One, in particular, who died in the hospital, seemed to
her the most profoundly patriotic of all whose death she
had witnessed.
His name was William Starr, a man in humble life, and
a private in one of the Ohio regiments. Hie was brought
in from the front very dangerously injured by the kick of
a vicious horse. The blow had fallen upon the breast, and
he had frequent and dangerous hemorrhages from the lungs.
It did not seem possible that he could live many hours, and
his sufferings were very acute. Mrs. Mendenhall, and
other ladies in the hospital, paid him special attention, and
soon had the satisfaction of seeing him much better, and
able to walk slowly around the room. He improved
gradually, and left the hospital, returning to service, so
that his kind benefactor lost sight of him for three years.
But the wound never fully healed, and his lulngs t length
commenced to bleed worse than at first. He was brought
to the same hospital, and hearing the name of Mrs.
Mendenhall mentioned by a lady who was  standing over
him, sent for her, at the same time speaking in the warmest
terms of her former kindness. The tears started down his
494 
IRS. ELIZABETH MENDENHALL.
fine face, stamped with the noblest traits of manhood, but
now fearfully pallid, as he grasped her hand, and prayed
God to reward her in this life and the next for her kindness
to him and other suffering soldiers. He lived a number of
dclays, and each day, as long, as he could lift his hands,
wished to see the papers, that he might know how the
battles were going.  The only earnest wish that he expressed was, that he might live lolng, enough to hear of the
capture of Richmond.
One April morning the glorious news was proclaimed
through the hospital wards that Richmond was evacuated,
and Lee, with his army, in full retreat. "Now," said the
dying, soldier, "now I am ready to go."  He had but one request to make -that, when he was stiff in death, he might
have the American fla,g laid over his body, and then be
buried in Spring Grove Cemetery on the soldiers' lot. Just
before he drew his last painful breath, a little son of Mrs.
MIendenhall went to bid him farewell, and carried in his
hand a little flag, with which he was playing.
As the glazing eye of the patriot caught sight of the
colors, he stretched out his hand, and taking the little
banner from the boy, waved it several times, his eye meantime lighting up with the ardor of a soldier and the flush of
victory. This was his last act; and when his tall figure
was prepared for the grave, Mrs. Mendenhall went with a
friend, and succeeded in finding a very handsome silk flag,
which they laid over him till his coffin received the form of
the dead soldier.
Associated with Mrs. Mendenhall  in these voluntary
and unsalaried labors for the soldier were other ladies of
495 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Cincinnati, many of whom were as praiseworthy, though
less prominent than herself.
MIiss Elizabeth Morris, and her married sister, Mrs.
Ellen Thomas, commenced their hospital. visits as soon as
there was any call for such work, and gave themselves
wholly to these charities, refusing all offers of pay from the
medical department, until, in 1864, a rule was passed excluding all unpaid nurses.  Under these circumstances, they for
some months drew a nurse's pay, half of which they gave
to the hospital fund, and applied the other half towards
furnishing substantial and palatable food for the private
soldiers' table. They continued this Christian work and
charity till the hospitals were emptied and dismantled by
the culminating successes of the spring and summer of
1865.
The wife of Colonel C. I. Wright, of Cincinnati, was
also among the first to assist largely in the hospitals,
spending, the greater part of her time in alleviating the
sufferings and discomforts of the soldiers.
Her labors were not confined to the hospitals, as she was
very efficient and untiring in preparing and distributing
comforts in various ways to the soldiers of her husbanld's
regiment in the field.
Mrs. C. W.  Starbuck, Mrs. Peter Gibson, and Mrs.
Jonas, all residing in the city, gave much of their time to
the hospitals, and were extremely liberal in furnishing
large supplies of various comforts and delicacies for the
wounded.
Mrs. William Woods, Mrs. Cadwell, and Miss Eckstein
were also frequent visitors.   Miss E. C. Smith was  a
0
496 
MRS. ELIZABETH MENDENHALL.
frequent, and, much of the time, a constant hospital
visitor while the war lasted; and Mrs. Kendrick, a sister
of General Anderson, proved herself worthy the name
of that Christian patriot and soldier, by a devotion to the
sufferers, that was equal to his fidelity to the flag in farfamed Sumter, where the war began.
32
497
I 
LOYAL SOUTHERN WOMEN.
N many parts of the South the sentiment of fidelity to
the Union was cherished by both sexes with as much
warmth as by any in the loyal states who volunteered their
services for hospital duty, or gave up their sons and husbands to the call of patriotism.
Throughout the mountainous regions of Kentucky and
Tennessee this spirit was in the ascendant; and when the
rebel forces made their numerous raids through the Cumberland Mountains for plunder in the rich counties of
lMiddle and Northern Kentucky, they were sure to encounter
the most vigorous hostility from the scattered and persecuted, but unterrified, loyal men and women, whose cabins
are nestled in the lonely coves and glens of that wild
region.
In the fall of 1862, when Bragg and Kirby Smith made
their swift and inglorious retreat from Kentucky through
Cumberlaud Gap, they were sharply pursued by Rousseau.
One morning the regiment in the van,' the Twenty-third
Kentucky, when about twenty-five miles east of Wildcat
Mountain, were g-reatly surprised to see a squad of ragged
Confederates come filing slowly into camp disarmed,
and a woman walking behind them with a musket in her
hands.  There were eleven of the Confederates, and the
(498) 
LOYAL SOUTHERN WOMEN.
woman handed them over to the colonel as prisoners
of war.
She said they came to her house the ni,ghlt previous, and
finding that her husband was a volunteer in the Union
lines, proceeded to help themselves promiscuously to everything they fancied.  Some ran down the chickens, and began to kill and eat, while others cut up her carpets for horse
blankets, and committed wanton depredations about the
house.  The incensed woman remained quiet, but watched
her opportunity.  Presently they were all collected in the
largest room, and making merry over the fire, havilng,, left
their muskets in a stack near the door.  Weary, and suspecting, no mischief in a solitary woman, they relaxed
their watch, while she quietly removed all the fire-arms
but two loaded muskets, which she took in her hands,
and, standing by the door, demanlded a surrender.  One of
them, more alert than the rest, made a' spring for the muskets, but fell dead on the floor with a ball through his body.
She told them quietly that any further attempt to escape
would be met by a similar fate. As they had a resolute foe
to deal with, discretion now became  the better part of
valor: they submitted to the fortunes of war, and at day light she marched them into the Union camp as described.
NOBLE ACT OF Two TENNESSEE WOMEN.
During the same autumn, when Grant was commanding
in West  Tennessee with headquarters at Jackson, the
twenty-seventh Iowa was ordered to take the cars at Corinth
and proceed to Jackson.  It was night time and the train
was crowded, men occupying the platforms and covering
499 
5WOMiEN OF THE WAR.
the roofs of the cars. As he approached a bridge, the engineer saw two lanterns in the distance swung to and fro
wvith the greatest earnestness.  He gave the signal of danger; the breaks were instantly applied, the train stopped,
and men sent forward to ascertain the cause of the alarm.
Two women were found at the bridge, who said the coming
of the loaded train of Union soldiers was known to a gang
of guerrillas which infested the neighborhood.  In the early
part of the night the assassins had fired the bridge, and
allowed the string-pieces to burn nearly off, when they
extinguished the fire, and left the structure standing, but
so weak that it would go down as soon as a train came over
it. Hearing of this piece of dastard villany, the women
had left home in the dead of night, and travelled on foot
several miles through the woods, to give an alarm and prevent the fearful consequences that would otherwise have
ensued. 
The officers and men whose ]ives were thus saved begged
of these heroic women to accept a purse of money, which
was made up on the spot. This they refused; and all the
return they would permit was that a small squad of the
soldiers might see them safely home.
HEROISM OF THE MISSES TAYLOR.
During the same campaign a scene took place at Danville, Kentucky, which illustrates the lofty courage which
often inspires the soul of woman. This town was much
divided in allegiance, many who had long been neighbors and friends espousing opposite causes.   But there
was no doubt as to the sympathies of Mrs. Taylor and her
estimable family.
500 
LOYAL SOUTHERN WO3IEN.
Broad and beautiful floated the striped bunlting over her
cottage, which proclaimed that their hearts, and hopes, and
fears were all with the Union cause.
When Kirby Smith occupied Danville, he sent a squad of
half a dozen men to take down that piece of bunting from
3Irs. Taylor's house. They were met at the door by Mrs.
Taylor's two daughters, Maria and Mattie, who politely,
but firmly, announced their intention to resist any effort to
remove the national emblem.  The valorous squad returned,
and reported that it would require a full company to remove
the flag. The force was detailed. A captain marched a
hundred men with loaded guns to the door, drew them up
in "battle's magnificenltly stern array," and made a formal
demand for the colors.  The younig  ladies now came to
the front door, each armed with a revolver, and holding
the glorious banner between them. They replied to the
Confederate captain that they had vowed never to surrender
that flag to traitors, and declared their, intention to shoot
the first rebel that polluted it with his touch. After hesitatingi  a few mnoments, the officer withdrew his force, and
reported that in the exercise of his discretion he had not
found it advisable to remove the colors referred to.
BRAVERY OF MISS SCIHWARTZ.
A year later, in the summer of 1863, a party of guerrillas went in the nigiht to the house of Mr. Schwartz,
twelve miles from Jefferson City,* Missouri, and, on demandcling admittance, were refused by Miss Schwartz, a girl
of fifteen years.  They answered that they would come in,
and  commenced breaking down the door.   Five or six
501 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
men, who were in the house, now ran out by the back
door, taking with them, as they supposed, all the firearms. In their haste a revolver was left, which the heroic
girl seized, and pointing it at the head of the leader of
the gang,, said, " Come on, if you want to; some of
you shall fall, or I will!"  They then said they would
kill her if she did not leave the door.   She answered,
"The first man  of you that takes  a step towards this
door dies. This is the home of my parents, my brothers and sisters, and I am able to, and shall, defend it."
After a brief consultation the ruffians left.  BrigadierGeneral Brown,  commanding the district, in a general
order, after setting forth the facts of this instance of noble
courage, concludes as follows:  "It is with feelings of no common pride and pleasure
that the commanding general announces this occurrence to
the citizens and soldiers of his district.  On the other hand,
those miserable cowards who deserted this brave girl in the
hour of danger, flying from the house and leaving her to
her fate, are unworthy the name of men, deserve the scorn
of the community in which they live, and should  be
shunned by every manl  who has a spark of honor or
bravery within him."
MISS OLDOM'S ADVENTURE.
Miss Cornelia Oldom, of Kentucky, displayed courage
and address equally brilliant, in the recovery of her horse
from a band of rebel marauders.
Her father lives near Mount Sterling, in the hills of
Eastern Keiucky.  The Confederates came to the house
502 
LOYAL SOUTHERN WOMEN.
in his absence, and were about to take all his horses, includincg a large and beautiful animal belonging to the young
lady.   Notwithstanding her earnest remonstrances, they
started off with her horse, when she sprang upon the back
of another, which was standing near, and galloped to town
as swiftly as possible to give the alarm.  On her way home
she saw, on the roadside, a pair of holsters containing pistols. Quickly dis'mounting, she found the weapons loaded,
and taking them with her, hurried after the horse thieves.
One of them was riding her beautiful pet. She dashed up
to him, and ordered him to dismount, with a grace and decision worthy of Di Vernon.  Finding he was dealing with
a resolute character, and seeing something in her eye which
looked  dangerous, he  surrendered  her  favorite  steed.
WVhen she had regained his back and patted his neck, the
noble creature seemed to know how much he owed to his
fearless mistress.
SPIRITED CONDUCT OF MRS. PHELPS.
John F. Phelps, a loyal Missourian, resides near Wilsonl's Creek, where the bloody engagement took place
in which General Lyon met his untimely but heroic death.
At the time of the battle he was away from home, in command of a Union regiment of Missouri volunteers.  After
Lyon's death the Union force retreated to Springfield, leaving the body of their general in the hands of the enemy.
Mrs. Phelps determiined to rescue it, and see that it had a
Christian burial. It was reported also that some of the
secessionists had threatened to cut out the heart of the
dead soldier, and preserve it as a trophy.
503 
WOMEN OF THE WAE.
Arming herself, she went out on the field, appalling as it
was with the dead still unburied, and stood guard over the
body of the hero all night.  When ordered to give it up,
she fearlessly refused; and when they insisted, she said they
must sacrifice her before they could lay ruthless hands on
the remains of that fallen brave.
After daylight she made the proper arrangements, and
removed the corpse to her house, where it was duly laid
out.  To furnish him a funeral pall, she cut into breadths
and sewed together in a proper form a magnificent black
velvet robe, a part of her own apparel.
Though perfectly aware of her unprotected situation, the
rebels surrounded the house in which the lifeless form of a
gallant enemy was guarded by a solitary but heroic woman,
and made the night hideous by savage screams, horrible
oaths, and barbarous threats. In a short time, however, they
retreated, and the body of General Lyan was taken in charge
by the loyal army, removed to Connecticut, his native state,
and there interred with the fullest military honors.
General Price soon after returned to the vicinity of Wilson's Creek, and called on Mrs. Phelps.  Hie was about to enter the house, when she forbade his crossing her threshold.
He remonstrated with her, and tried to cajole her by flatteries and amusing talk.  When he again spolke of coming
in, she addressed him in these words: "General Pxice, you
are a man, at the head of twenty thousand troops. I am a
helpless woman. You are armed. I am not. You have
the physical power to take possession of my house. If
you ever enter here, it will be simply by reason of my
weakness, not by my consent. I ask you, as a soldier,
504 
LOYAL SOUTHERN WOMEN.
whether you will use violence in such a case." Thus appealed to, Price did not insist, and whenever he came there,
stood in the yard, and conversed with the lady of the house
through the open door.
AN INSTANCE OF SELF-SACRIFICE.
When the lines of field-works were being established
around the national capital, the military enginieers in charge
of their location came upon a lovely spot near Bladensburg,
Maryland.  A tasteful cottage home, standing on the verge
of a gentle slope, was surrounded by orchard shade trees,
grape-vines, a charming flower garden, a lawn of exquisite
smoothness, and "shrubberies that a Shenistone might have
envied."  This little paradise was the residence of a lady
and her daughters, whose husband and father was away
fighting under the Union flag.   The formation of the
country was such as to require the line of earth-works to
pass directly throngh these beautifull grounds and gardens.
The position commands the country around for miles, and is
the proper point for a battery. Yet the officers sawv at a
glance that the planting of gunls on the hill would make
terrible havoc of that charming rural home. Every tree in
the orchard must come down, the shrubbery be torn away,
a wide ditch cut through the flower garden, and the whole
place, in fact, desolated and ruined. Other lines were run
in the hope of avoiding this hill entirely, but in vain.  No
other eminence afforded such a tactical position, and to
neglect it might be to throw the advantage thus afforded
into the hands of the enemy.  It became the unpleasant
duty of the officers in charge of the survey to call on the
505 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
lady and inform her of the military necessity that demanded
the mutilation of her grounds, and the destruction of all
that was loveliest on the premises.  They stated their conclusion in as delicate a manner as possible, and told her
how they had hoped to avoid an occupation of her land.
She heard their statement in silence, arose, walked to the
window, and gazed for a few moments onl the tender lawn
and the blooming garden. Then, with tearful eyes, she
turned to the engineers and said, "If it must be so, take
it freely. I had hoped to live here in peace and quiet, and
never to leave this sweet spot, which my husband has taken
so much delight in making beautiful.  But if my country
demands it, take it freely.  You have my consent."
When the women  of Tyre cut their long hair and braided
it into bowstrings for the archers on the walls of the besieged city, their devotion was no greater than was here
shown by this patriotic lady of Bladenlsburg.
A LOYAL RICMOND GIRL.
The following story of "hair-breadth'scape," illustrates
at once the genuine loyalty of some of the citizens of the
rebel capital, and the unequalled fertility of woman's wit
in devising expedients.
S. R. McCullough, the hero of the story, is a Wisconsin
soldier, who was captured at Chickamauga, and drought as
prisoner to Richmond.
Being somewhat ill, he was sent to a hospital, and had not
been there long before a young lady of the city made him
a present in the form of a pretty bag filled with "Virg,inia
fine cut."  It occurred to young  McCullough that possibly
506 
LOYAL SOUTHERN WOOMEN.
the bag might contain something besides tobacco; and sure
enough, at the bottom he found a slip of paper with these
wvords: "AVould you be free?  Then be prepared to act.
Mleet me to-morrow at."  The meeting took place.
In a few brief words she told him her plan for his escape,
agreed upon a day for its execution, and the parties separated without being noticed by the guard. In a few days
he received another note conveyed in a similar manner,
giving further instructions, and saying that he might bring
a comrade with him.
As the day approaches he can think of no way of passing
the guard but by feigning to be dead.  The details of this
ruse were discussed with his fellow-prisoners; and on
the eventful day four of them laid him out as a corpse,
covered him with a blanket, and carried him to the dead
house, where he lay, still as a log, and nearly smothered
with his rude face-cloth, till dusk.  At,length he raised
himself, made a hasty reconnoissance barefoot, and finding
all right, sallied forth. Just at this time, as had been arrainged, a sham fight was played off in the opposite part of
the inclosure, by which the attention of all the guards was
arrested, when his comrade slipped into a hut near the dead
house, and McCullough, as had been arranged, when everything was favorable, threw a stone against the logs.  Iflis
comrade came out; the two adventurers were together and
undiscovered.  They quickly scaled the high board fence,
one standing on the other's shoulders, and then drawing his
companion up, and let themselves down on the other side
in the same manner. Once outside the prison, they went
to the place designated by the young lady, and found
507 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
her waiting.   She told them to follow her at a distance,
keeping in sight her white handkerchief.   Taking a circuitous route she led them twenty-five blocks, and waited
for them on the steps of a house, which proved to be that
of her father. Here they were kindly received by him,
though he knew  nothing of the plan of his  daughter.
In a few days he procured them passes by paying for them
between two and three thousand dollars in Confederate
money.  The  young  lady provided them  with suitable
clothes; her father sent them away in his carriage, and he
and his daughter gave them their blessing as they departed
for the Federal lines, which they reached, with but little
difficulty, on the 23d of December, 1863, just three months
after they were made prisoners.
THE GOOD WOMAN AT RoaM.
A large body of Union soldiers, that had been confined
in a distant southern prison, reached the town of Rome,
in Northern Georgia, on their way to Richmond.  Weary,
famished, and thirsty, they were halted in the middle of
the streets, under a broiling sun, and exposed to the coarse
jeers of the imbittered populace.
Handsomely dressed women came out with handfiuls of
little cotton bullets, which they threw at the poor, helpless
fellows, with such words as, " So you have come to Romehave you?  How do you like your welcome?"  Hour after
hour of this tedious waiting and insult had passed, when a
Union major, who was leaning wearily against a post, was
lightly touched on the arm, and turned around expecting
some fresh opprobrium.  He saw a fine-looking boy, about
508 
LOYAL SOUTHERN WOMEN.
twelve years of age, standing by his elbow, who, glancing
at the guard, who was then looking the other way, pulled
the major's skirt, and asked, "Are you from New England?"
"I was born in Massachusetts," was the reply. "So was
my mother," returned the boy, brightening up. " She was
a New Englaud girl, and she was what you call a schoolma'am; she married my father, and I'm their boy; but
how she does love New Englalnd and the Yankees, and the
old United States! and so do I."
The poor major was touched at finding this stray scion
of the good old stock away here by " the rivers of Babylon." There was nothing he could give the boy to strengthen his loyalty but one of the buttons on his frock. As he
was cutting this from his breast, the lad pulled a string of
them from his pocket, and said, "See, I have a dozen just
like it, gifts of other boys in blue.  My mother would like
to see you. I'll go and tell her."
What are you doing here?" growled the guard, with an
oath, as he turned upon him. But the little fellow slipped
away through the crowd, and presently returned, walking
beside a lovely lady, who moved slowly along the pavement,
near the curb-stone, and quietly thrust bank notes into the
hands of one and another of the prisoners.
As she approached the major, the bright-faced boy gave
him a look that seemed to say, "This is my Massachusetts
mother, Sir, who has taught me to love Yankees and the
Unionl."  The glances interchanged as the lady threw her
eyes upon the war-worn New England soldier were hasty,
for the suspicious guard was near, but how full of mutual
admiration and esteem!
509 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
MRs. HETTY M. McEwEN.
Nashville, Tennessee, was the only city in the seceding
states that contained a large number of genuine  Unionists
who had the courage to assert their sentimenlts openly and
in defiance of southern sympathizers.  This fearlessness
was as often manifested by women as by men.  The southern character, frank, ardent, and uncalculating, was never
more aptly illustrated than by the high-spirited defiance with
which they dared all danger and all criticism in manifesting
their fidelity to the Union.
Duriing the spring, and summer of 1861, while Isiham G.
Harris and his co-traitors were plotting dishonor and disaster for Tennessee, and a majority in the middle and western
districts sympathized with him, there were a f'ew iii Nashville who frankly characterized his conduct in no measured
terms, and advertised their sentiments by keepiing the nlational colors always flying from their house-tops.
Of these few, Mrs. Hetty M. MIcEwen was perhaps the
most conspicuous, and her conduct in the defence of the
flag upon her house is truly memorable.
She is an old lady. having been born during the Presidency of George Washington.  She had six uncles at the
battle of Iling's Mountain, four of whom wet that hardfou,ght field with their life-blood.
Her husband, Colonel Robert II. McEwen, fought under
Jackson at Horseshoe, and his father was a surg,eon inl tlhe
revolutionary army.  She could remember the time when
there was no Tennesseean that did not live in a log cabin,
510 
LOYAL SOUTHERN WOMEN.
no preacher that did not take his rifle into the pulpit with
him as regularly as his Bible, and was as familiar with one
as with the other.  When secession was talked of, with her
own fingers she stitched together the folds of bunting, and
reared the Red, W'hite, and Blue on a flag,-staff in the yard
of the residence that had been known as theirs almost from
the time when Nashville was an Indian fort.  As treason
grew less and less odious, the flag was subjected to various
insults.  Boys threw stones at it.  The papers noticed it,
and advised its removal.   Colonlel i,IcEwcnl received an
anonymous letter full of plantation venom, and threateningi
assassination unless the odious colors were removed.  When
at lenglth the machinations of Governor Harris culminated,
and Tennessee was made to appear of secession preferences
by forty thousand majority, Colonel AceEwen fastened a
pole into one of his chimneys, and nailed the national colors
-where they could float solitary, yet dauntless and defiant,
over the rel)ellion-cursedcl city.  The hostility now became
fiereer than  ever.  Hie was told that the flag must colme
down  from that roof if they had to fire the house to bringi
it down.  He asked his wife what they had better do about
the flag, adding that he would sustain her in any course she
thought best to adopt.   "Load me the shot-gunll, Colonel
gleEwen," said the heroic old lady.  And he loadecld it for
her with sixteen buckshot in each barrel. " Now'," added she,
"'I will take the responsibility of guarding that flag.  Whoever attempts to pass my door on their way to the roof for
that star-spangled banner, under which my four uncl:. s fell
at King's Mountain, must go over my dead body!"
511 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Not long after, Governor Harris issued an order for all
fire-arms to be brought to him at the state-house, and
enforced it by sending a squad of soldiers to Colonel
McEwen's house. In reply to their demand she said, " Go
tell your master, the governor, that I will not surrender
my gun to any one but himself, and, if he wants it, to come
in person and risk the consequences."
512 
ANNA  ETHERIDGE.
W ERE  our government to order a gold medal to be
given to the woman who has most distinguished
herself by heroic courage on the field, and by the most
patient and effective service in the military hospitals, there
can be little doubt that the united voices of the soldiers
and of all the army nurses would assign the honor to Anna
Etheridge, of Michigan.
In the great work of charity and self-sacrifice performed
by the women during the late conflict, some have displayed
organizing and executive talent truly w'onderful. Others
have become remarkable for the extent and duration of
their labors- others for the admirable and Christian spirit
they brought to the hospitals and the battle-field.  Genuine
courage  and hardihood have been displayed by females, but
not generally in connection with those finler characteristics
for which woman is most prized.
But in our "gentle Anna" was combined that true heroism which is the highest boast of manhood, with the mocfesty,
the quiet bearing, the deferential manners and unobtrusive
worth which are the loveliest traits of the fitirer and the
weaker sex.  Few soldiers were in the war longer, or served
with so slight intermissions, or had so little need of rest.
When the first enlistments took place, in the summer of
33                               (513) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
1861, Anna Etheridge was in Detroit, on a visit to friends.
There she enlisted in the Second Michigan volunteers, under
Colonel Richardson.  Nineteen young ladies are said to
have offered to go with the regiment in the capacity of
nurses; but inl a few months' service every one but Anna
had returned home, or lost her health, or been discharged.
She was with the regiment in the action at Blackburn's
Ford, which was preliminary to the first battle of Bull
Run, and continued with it through nearly all the great
Virginia battles.  She was furnished with a horse, sidesaddle, saddle-bags, &c., and during a battle would often
ride fearlessly to the front; and whenever she found a soldier too badly hurt to go to the rear, she would dismount,
and, regardless of shot and shell, produce her lint and
bandages, bind up his wounds, give water or stimulating.
drink, then gallop on in search of another sufferer. General Berry, who for a long time commanded the brigade to
which her regiment was attached, and who was remarkable
for his personal gallantry in all these engagemenlts, declares
that she has remained cool and self-possessed under as hot
a fire as he ever saw or was exposed to himself.  The brilliant General Kearney at one time commanded this brigade,
and, in consideration of her dauntless courage and invaluable services, commissioned her as a regimental sergeant, and
presented her the handsome cross that bears higs noble and
heroic name. When not actively engaged on the field or in
hospital, she superintended the cooking at brigade headquarters; and when the brigade moved she would mount her
horse and march with the ambulances and the surgeons,
administering to the wants of the sick and wounded. At
514 
ANNA ETHERIDGE.
the nightly bivouac she wrapped herself in her blanket, and
slept on the ground with the hardihood of a true soldier.
Her exploits at Antietam, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg,
and in the battles of Grant's closing campaign, were a
favorite  theme with  the soldiers.  On one occasion a
wounded man, to whom she was attending, was struck by a
shell and torn in pieces, almost between her hands. Generally, during an engagement, she would remain a little in
the rear with the surgeon; but often, when she saw a man
fall she would dash forward into the hottest of the fire,
lift him on her horse, and bring him safely to the rear,
where he could have prompt attention. Many times she
received balls through her dress, but was never hit. Many
and many a soldier owes his life to "gentle Anna's" inltrepidity.  More than once, when the troops showed signs of
retreating, she rushed to the front, seized the colors, and
rallied them to a charge, shaming many into doing their
duty.  At the battle of the Wilderness, when the fighting
was at its height, the balls raining like hailstones, theFifth
MIichigan and some other troops were surrounded and
nearly cut off by the rebels.  As the line of battle swung
around, the enemy took the places our men had vacated.
Anna was at that moment speaking to an orderly, a mere
boy, when a bullet pierced his heart, and he fell against
her, dead. For the first and only time during the war our
heroine became " demoralized; " and layiing the dead orderly
on the ground, she ran towards what she took to be the
Union troops. Too late she discovered her mistake, but
kept on, dashing through the rebel line, and though several
shots were sent after her, made her escape unhurt.
515 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
In demeanor "Michigan Anna" is thoroughly modest,
quiet, and retiring, while her habits and conduct are correct and exemplary. Though on the battle-field she seems
to be possessed and animated by the single desire of saving
the lives of wounded men, she seldom speaks of herself,
or refers to anlything, she has done.  With strangers she is
very reticent, and has a reserve and apparent pride of
manner. WVith the soldiers, though sharing all their hardships, she never spoke familiarly, and was held by them in
the highest veneration and esteem, as an angel of mercy.
While the contest was going on, she took the deepest
interest in the issue, eagerly reading all the newspapers
that she could find in camp, and keeping well informed
as to the progress of the war.
WVhen general orders excluded her temporarily from the
front lines, she engaged promptly in any hospital labors
where aid was needed.
During a part of the Peninsula campaign she was on a
hospital transport, and Miss Bradley speaks in warm terms
of the constant, thorough, and effectual service there performed by her. So, also, at City Point she cooperated
with Mrs. Husband and other ladies, working indefatigably,
and winning the respect and admiration of all under her
care.
No  one of the noble women  who have  distinguished
themselves during the war can furnish so rich, varied, and
romantic a series of recollections as Ainna Etheridge, more
of which might have been employed for the embellishment
of this brief sketch, were it not that the heroine is preparing a volume of her own, which is likely to prove one of
516 
ANNA ETHERIDGE. 
the most interesting recitals connected with the history of
the times.
A career so romantic has not failed to stimulate the en
thusiasm of several of our poets to celebrate her exploits
.n rhyme.
*Perhaps the lines which follow are the best tribute
which the Muses have, as yet, made to this admirable
character: -
TO MISS ANNA ETHERIDGE,
THE HEROINE OF THE WAR.
Hail, heroine of the battle-field!
Sweet angel of a zeal divine!
Hail, maiden, whose device and shield,
Sculptured in tears and prayers, will shine,
On Love's eternal column reared
In memory of the martyred dead,
To be, through coming time, revered,
And sacred to the pilgrim's tread!
Hail, dauntless maid! whose shadowy form,
Borne like a sunbeam on the air,
Swept by amid the battle-storm,
Cheering the helpless sufferers there,
Amid the cannon's smoke and flame,
The earthquake roar of shot and shell,
Winning, by deeds of love, a name
Immortal as the brave who fell.
Hail, angel! whose diviner spell
Charmed dying heroes with her prayer,
Stanching their wounds amid the knell
Of death, destruction, and despair.
517 
WOMEN OF THiE WAR.
Thy name by memory shall be wreathed
Round many desolate hearts in prayer;
By orphan lips it shall be breathed,
And float in songs upon the air.
And History's pages shall embalm
The heroine's deeds in lines of fire;
Her life shall prove a hallowed charm,
And every loyal heart inspire.
Press on, press on! in glory move!
Unfading laurels shall be thine
To gem the victor-crown of Love,
And sparkle in the realms divine!
518 
MISS A. SHELTON,
AND OTHER NURSES AT CHATTANOOGA.
F EVW  places in the country are so rich in the histor.1'ical associations of our great war as Chattanooga.
Situated at the points where the Tennessee bursts through
the barriers of the Appalachian range, romantic in its site,
and sublime in mountain scenery, it is, at the same time,
a commercial and railroad centre, and a key-point in military strategy. Its immense importance in the defence of
southern territory is proved by the fact that it is the only
point in America that has as yet been the theatre of two
protracted and bloody battles, each fought for no other
strategical object than the possession or occupation of
this town.
The battles took place in the fall of 1863, and it can
easily be seen that during the winter that followed, there
must have been an untold aggregate of suffering conlcentrated there.
M[ore than two hundred miles from Louisville, the base
of supply, with railroad and wagon communication subject
to constant interruption by raids and surprises, it was
crowded with the severely wounded of two bloody battles,
great numbers of whom died for want of sufficient  and
proper food, clothing, and the customary hospital supplies.
The heroic army-workers had done something to relieve
(519) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
this suffering early in the season.  Mrs. Harris, whom no
difficulties ever appalled, whom no labors, though they
might prostrate, seemed ever to exhaust, had, with Miss
Tyson, of Baltimore, and Mrs. Beck, of WVashington, penetrated to this point when it was at the front, and the
scene of actual hostilities. But sickness followed the exposures and hardships to which they were subject, and
they were without facilities for accomplishing much for the
relief of the suffering.   In early spring the subject was
taken up by the ladies of the Sanitary Commission of the
West, and a number of zealous workers went to Chattanoog,a, arriving there about the middle of April, 1864.
The deputation was mostly from Iowa.  There were Miss
Coggill, of Iowa City, Miss Hagan, of Muscatine, and Miss
A. Shelton, the sister of Miss Mary E. Shelton, who acted
as the secretary and hospital assistant of Mrs. Wittenmeyer.
Four others, Mrs. Conrad and her sister, and the Misses
Hanford, went to Knoxville on similar errands of mercy.
The three who remained at Chattanooga were for a few
days lodged at the rooms of the Christian Commission;
but about the 21st an ambulance drove up to the door
to take them to the hospital by the foot of Lookout Mountain, at the point where Chattanooga Creek empties into
the Tennessee.   Their quarters they found  rough and
dirty, and the strict discipline of the camp appeared severe  and arbitrary.   But these discomforts and annoyances were soon lost sight of in the absorbing and tragical
scenes of the hospital wards.
One of the first patients that Miss Hagan attended was
raving with the delirium of fever. "Send across the field
for my wife; just across the field there. She'll come as soon
520 
MISS A. SHELTON.
as you tell her; she has no idea how sick I am." When she
laid her cool hand on the hot forehead, and stroked back
the crisp, brown hair, the poor fellow thought  she" had
come, and said, in a tone of satisfaction that was inexpressibly touching, "There, I thought you would come; I knew
you would, as soon as you knew how much I needed you."
As soon as arrangements were completed, these ladies
had in charge the special diet kitchen, where they prepared food for about two hundred patients. At first, these
duties were found very exhausting; but they were steadily
persevered in, and contributed greatly to the comfort and
the rapid convalescence of the patients.
Their time was wholly engrossed with these labors of
philanthropy and patriotism; yet the Chattanooga life,
stern and exacting as it was, had its hours of romantic
interest. Above the hospital where they labored towered
the famous historic mountain peak, where the storming
columns of the victorious Union troops had crowded up
the rocky slope till the final volleys and the ringing
cheers of triumph were far above the clouds. Near them
rolled the blue waters of the Tennessee, whose banks had
for three years been echoing to the fierce thunders of the
fratricidal strife; while, from time to time, lolng columns
of troops, with immense army trains, would file past the
hospital, moving on southward at the command'of the
great  Ilarching General, to earn imperishable renown in
a series of bloody battles culminating in the most wonderful success in all history.  The scenery, also, particularly at night, often realized all they had conceived of
as the wild and romantic scenery of war. A corps or a
521 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
division would encamp on Chattanooga or Chickamauga
Creek, and their camp fires extend up the slopes of the
grand old mountain, till it seemed all ablaze with the lurid
glories of war.
In May began active operations against the enemy;
and the hospital was soon filled with wounded men from
the action at Dalton, Tunnel Hill, and numerous other
points on the line of march through Northern Georgia.
Soon it became necessary to establish other special diet
kitchens. On the 26th of May, Miss Hagan and Miss
Shelton went to Hospital No. 1; and though there was
everything to be done, and nothing to do with, by dint
of perseverance, hard work, and Miss Hagan's uncommon
executive ability, order soon came out of confusion, and
an abundance of suitable and well-cooked food was supplied to all the wards in the hospital.
This was not abated during the haonth of June, after
which Chattanooga was of less importance as a hospital
cenltre.   Then Miss Shelton went to Nashville, and cooperated with her sister in labors for the patients in
Hospital No. 1 and HIospital No. 14.  An account of
these labors, and some very touching and tragical incidents that occurred there, will be found in the narrative
and hospital sketches of Miss Mary E. Shelton.
These sisters continued their labors at NashVille, and
afterwards at Wilmington, for months after the war ended,
endeavoring to restore again to useful activity and cheerfulness the patriots who, during the last year of the
terrible warfare, had made such vast sacrifices of their
own health and life, to give vigor, unity, and permanence
to the life of the nation.
522 
k 
7~~~-  
M1ISS GEORGIANA WILLETS.
HIS accomplished and lovely young woman was one
of that large number who for many months were kept
back from serving their country in the military hospitals
and on the battle-field by a misconception of the duties that
nurses had to perform.
As soon, however, as it was apparent to her and her
fiends that very effective and important services could be
rendered without the compromise of either delicacy or
dignity, she entered heart and soul into the work.
Leaving, her home at Jersey City in' the spring of 1864,
she repaired to Washington, holding herself in readiness to
respond to any call that might be made for hospital labor.
Early in May, Grant moved his powerful army across the
Rapidan, and struck the first of those giant blows under
which the Confederacy at length reeled to its downfall.
With this campaign was inaugurated in Virginia his
peculiar mode of warfare, which consists in following up
one battle with another, and this by a forced march, giving
the exhausted enemy no time to collect, reorganize, or
recuperate. Such fighting naturally created great sufferillng,
and imposed heavy losses upon the forces of the North.
Into the midst of these unequalled and appalling scenes
of bloodshed and hardship Miss Willets found herself sud                                               (523) 
WWOMEN OF THE WAR.
denly plunged, when, on the 13th of May, she went to the
scene of active operations, and entered the old war-battered
city of Fredericksburg.
It w-as one enormous hospital; or rather it was a city of
wounded and exhausted men, who had been rapidly collectedcl firom the rear of battles that had lasted with little or
no intermission for seven days.  But at no time throughout
the war was there such a lack of adequate hospital applianices as at Fredericksburg after the  battles of the
VilcTernless.
Immediately on her arrival, Miss Willets reported to
Dr. Dalton, the Medical Director, and was assigned to
duty in the Catholic Church, known as a ward of the First
Division, Second Corpls Hospital.   Here  she found  a
hundred and fifty wounded men, with literally nothing to
make their condition comfortable, or even tolerable. Supplies could be had only by way of Belle Plain, a distance
of twenty miles, over a road that, by a constant passage
of army trains and frequent storms, had become one lolng
quagmire, through  which a horse  could hardly drag a
hundred pounds.  All the available force, and most of the
trains, had moved on towards Richmond, leaving this city
of sufferers to be relieved as best they might. There were
no beds in the ward where Miss Willets was,engaged except
such as were made by stitching two blankets together, and
stuffing the sack thus made with straw that had been used
for packing; no pillows for the dying, except such as were
rudely formed by cutting off the sleeve of some poor
soldier's shirt, and filling it with hay.  Canteens, boots,
and even bricks, were the uncouth bolsters for patients
524 
MISS GEORGIANA WILLETS.
whose condition required the most careful attention. The
only dishes were a rough and blackened tin cup for not one
man in three; the only place for cooking, an openl camp fire.
Thus rude was her introduction to army life. But the
noble girl was neither repulsed nor discouraged.   Why
should a well person repine at anything, when men by the
thousand lay suffering and dying around her, their battle
uniform yet stiff with gore, bolstering their weary and aching heads on brickbats, yet never breathing a word of complaiint?  Here for two weeks she worked assiduously, using
all a woman's wit and ingenuity to extemporize something
having a semblance of comfort for her hundred and fifty
patients.  The transportation from Belle Plain had greatly
improved, supplies were arriving every hour, and the prospect of seeing the wounded in a condition less pitiable was
quite inspiring, when all their ameliorating plans were cut
short by the progress of events and a Military order.
Grant had advanced so far as to make his land communicationl with Washington too long a line to be held.  Ite had
established a new base on the York and James Rivers; the
theatre of operations was now the close vicinity of Petersburg and Richmond, and Fredericksburg must  be evacuated.
Here was a fresh breadthl of canvas in the ever-shifting
panoramas of a great war.  Eight hundred patients were to
be transferred immediately from their rude resting-places,
and from cots, to the transports that lay by the river bank.
Slowly and painfully the poor fellows  were lifted upon
stretchers, almost every movement giving exquisite torture,
carried by two soldiers down the steep banlk, and laid side
525 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
by side along the decks of the vessels.  Night fell moonless
and stormy while the work was in progress; but the
demands of war recognized no distinction between storm
and sunshine; they made no allowance for darkness and
midnight; the embarkation must go on.  If the ladies had
not the strength to lift wounded men and carry stretchers,
they could at least hold the lights.  Accordingly Miss Willets and her two associates, Miss Hancock and Mrs. Lee,
took their positions along the path that led from the gangway to the hospitals, and stood hour after hour in the rain
and deep gloom of midnight, as the grim procession of the
wounded filed slowly past them.
All through the long, wet night, these true-hearted ladies
continued at their self-assigned posts of duty, until, as
morning, dawned, they found themselves, with their shiploads of suffering men, moving slowly down the Rappahannock.   Vhen opposite Port Royal, dn officer came aboard
with the information that a thousand of the wounded in the
last battle were lying on the ground, and in wagons, just as
they had been brought from the field. Hle asked who
would volunteer to go and do something for them.  Miss
Willets had come out from Washington in company with
\Irs. Swisshelm; but in the darkness and confusion at the
embarkation they were separated, and she was now quite
alone.  She not only had no acquaintance at Pott Royal,
but the town had very recently been evacuated by the
rebels, and there was no certainty that she might not be
subject tc insult by going so wholly unprotected into a
place full of southern sympathizers.  But considerations of
this kind could not deter our heroine from the line of use
526 
MISS GEORGIANA WILLETS.
fulness. Here were a thousand suffering soldiers, to whom
a little attention might be of inestimable importance, and
she went to work among them without hesitation.  She
found one of her own sex engaged in similar labors, Mrs.
Spencer, state agent for New York, who hailed her with a
genuine welcome.  For four days she remained here, doing
whatever she could as best she could. They were days of
toil and discomfort so great as almost to reach suffering,
when another shift in the grand kaleidoscope changed all
plan and arrangements. White House was now the base,
and thither Miss Willets went on the supply steamer
Planter.  Working here for two weeks, the next advance
was to City Point, where she was permanently connected
with the Hospital of the Second Division of the Second
Corps.  The wounded in the engagements of the 16th, 17th,
and 18th June were brought in just as she commenced her
labors; and for some time she had charge of eleven wards,
and also of a low-diet kitchen, where food for the most
dangerous cases was prepared. The arduous labors in which
she was engaged through the summer were varied, not
relieved, by a trip to Washington, on a hospital transport,
in July. Two hundred and fifty men, wounded in the
assault of the rebel lines before Petersburg, were onl board,
just as they were removed from that disastrous field.
One lady, Mrs. Price, was with Miss Willets to-assist;
but for all that number of patients they had but two basins
with which to wash and dress wounds, almost no supplies,
one small stove in charge of a testy and slatternly old
negress down in the hold.  With such desires as she had to
do something for the poor men, and such inadequate means
527 
WO0IEN OF THE WAR.
to operate with, well may she describe that trip from James
River to Washington as "thirty-six hours of torture."
Excepting a short interval in September, when overexertion had produced sickness, Miss Willets remained at
the hospital of the Second Division, Second Corps, till late
in the fall of 1864, wvhen, the number of patients having
greatly diminished, she went home for a short interval of
rest, intending to return at the opening of the spring campaign. How soon that campaign closed, and with it the
whole war, all the world knows.
Though some labored for a longer period than Miss Willets, few, from any part of the country, brought to the
service more pleasing manners, more graceful accomplishments, or a kinder heart.   She was one of those whose
presence by their cots the soldiers gratefully recognized by
calling them "sunbeams." The wounded who were so
fortunate as to be under her care, as well as Mrs. Husband,
and others who cooperated with her, conspire in their
praises of her winning gentleness, the loveliness of her
person, and the sweetness of her character.
528
-16 
WOMEN AS SOLDIERS.
URING all periods of the war, instances occurred of
women being found in the ranks, fighting as conmmon
soldiers, their sex remaining unsuspected, and the particular
motive in each case often unknown.
Some went to avoid separation from those who were
dearer to them than ease, or life itself; others, from a pure
love of romance and adventure; and others, from a mental
hallucination that victory and deliverance would conme to
the war-burdened land only by the sacrifice of their lives.
As an instance of the latter kind, we cite the story of the
young lady of Brooklyn, New York, who was killed at the
battle of Chickamauga.
In the early part of the year 1863, when the national
fortunes were darkest, and victory perched continually on
the standards of rebellion, this young lady, then fresh from
school, and scarce nineteen years of age, conceived the idea
that Providence had destined her, as an American Joan of
Arc, to marshal our discouraged forces, rally thereto new
efforts, and inspire them with a fresh and glowing enthusiasm.
Probably she had lingered too fondly over that most
thru-illing chapter of French history, where, as by a miracle,
the obscure shepl,dess leaps to the van of the demoralized
34v                            (529) 
WOMEN OF TIIE W~AR.
but fiery Gallic army, and towers at once into the rarest
heroism with the courage of an Amazon, the bearing of a
queen, and the purity of a saint.
Her parents at first treated this fancy of hers as a harmless day-dream, produced by excessive study, and by hearing, of the constant reverses of the Union arms.   At length
more active means were employed to disabuse her mind of
an impression so idle, and to dissuade her from a plan of
action so utterly impracticable; but in vain.
An eminent physician was consulted, her pastor called
to converse with her, and her former associates at school
brought to her, that by their united influence she might see
the folly of her dream; but none of their representations
could dissuade her from a determination that was every day
becoming more fixed.  Finally, in a family meeting, it was
held the most judicious course to take her to Michigan; and
a maiden aunt became the companion and custodian of the
enthusiastic girl. But she was not improved by the change,
for only the positive command of her aunt prevented her
from going to Washington to seek an interview with the
good president, and ask the command of the national forces.
At length it was found necessary to deprive her to some
extent of her liberty; but this made her quite unmanageable,
and she determined to enlist at.all hazards.
Escaping from her aunt, she disguised herself as a boy,
and joined the drum corps of a Michigan regiment.
All efforts to trace her were unavailing; and after some
weeks of search, she was mourned by her parents as dead,
and was believed to have committed suicide.
The regiment to which she was attached being ordered
530 
WOMEN AS SOLDIERS.
to reenforce General Rosecrans, she went with it to Tennessee, and marched under that accomplished strategist in all
those skilful movements by which the rebel general Bragg
was forced across the Cumberland Mountains and beyond
the Tennessee River, at the sacrifice of hardly a man in the
Union lines. Then followed the hard struggle for Chattanooga.  Her regiment was in Van Cleve's division, and in
the sharp but indecisive engagements of Saturday she was
unhurt. But on the disastrous day which followed, as the
fair young soldier was standing unterrified under a deadly
fire, a minie ball pierced her side, and she fell.  On being
carried to the surgeon's tent, an examination of her wound
revealed her sex. The surgeon told her that she could not
live, and advised her to disclose her real name. This she
was unwilling to do. But the colonel of the regiment,
though suffering from a painful wound, at length prevailed
upon her to inform her family of her situation; and just before she died she dictated the following telegraphic despatch
which was sent to her father: "M Ir.    —, No. -  Willoughby Street, Brooklyn.  Forgive your dying daughter.
I have but a few moments to live. My native soil drinks
my blood. I expected to deliver my country, but the Fates
would not have it so. I am content to die. Pray, pa, forgive me.  Tell ma to kiss my daguerrotype.       EMILY.
P. S. Give my old watch to little Eph."  
The gentle enthusiast was buried under the shadow of the
cloud - capped mountain, which a few weeks after echoed
from base to summit with the victorious cheers of our triumphant host, and the broad blue Tennessee murmurs for
531 
WOMEN OF TIIE WAR.
her a requiem soft and sad.  Grave more glorious or more
fitting she could not have chosen.
Equally romantic, and more sad if possible, is the story
of the Wisconsin girl, who, with a devotion of which only
woman is capable, followed her soldier-lover through four
years of active service, and at last closed his eyes in death
in a Washington hospital a few days after Lee's surrender.
Her name is Ellen Goodridge, and the brave boy she
loved so truly was James Hendrick. He volunteered for
three months when the war broke out in 1861, and was at
the first battle of Bull Run.  Receiving a lieutenant's commission, he enlisted for three years, and wrote to that effect
to his parents, and also to Ellen. When she told her parents
that she had made up her mind to go with her lover and
share the fortunes of war by his side, they were so incensed
at what they considered her folly, that they turned her from
their doors, and bade her never return. Going to Washington, she found young Hendrick's regiment, and obtained
permission to remain at the colonel's headquarters and look
after the cooking.
They were in every great battle that was fought in
Virg,inia, and in the intervals she often went with him in
skirmishes and raids, on one such occasion receiving a
painful wound in her arm from a minie ball.  His health
remained good till after the fall of Richmond. Then he
became very sick, and was taken to Washington, where she
watched over his couch, bathed his hot forehead, read to
him, wrote for him, and showed the most painful anxiety
for his recovery; but all in vain.  A day or two before he
532 
WOMEN AS SOLDIERS.
died, their marriage was solemnized by an Episcopal clergyman. The occasion was inexpressibly sad, he writhing in
the grasp of a fatal disease, having survived all the great
battles of the war only to die, and leave the noble girl, who
had been so true to him, broken-hearted and a widow, and
she almost wild with the terrible thought that, after giving
up so much, and suffering so much, to be near him, death
would leave her only his name and a bleeding heart.
The hardihood of "Irish Biddy" was probably not surpassed by any camp-follower during the war.
She sometimes went out with the men on picket, and
remained all night on watch. At times, when sickness or
hard service had thinned the ranks of the regiment, she
would take the place of a soldier, and go out on a scouting
or a raiding expedition, doing the full duty of a soldier.
At other times the part she acted was more fearless and
sublime, taking then the place of an officer, and acting the
commander rather than the companion.
One occasion of the latter class shows that "Irish Biddy"
possessed the courage, if not the grace and poetry, of Joan
of Arc.
The brigade was in Virginia, near Dinwiddie Court
HIouse, engaged in a series of skirmishes and actions with
the enemy, the general object of which was to c9mplete
the investment and isolation of Richmond.
One of the captains in the regiment to which she was
attached had fallen in a skirmish with a party of Confederate
cavalry.  The regiment was repulsed at the end of the action, and the body of the fallen officer left in the lines of
533 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the enemy.  Bridget was near by during the fight, and
knew that his body was abandoned by the men in their
retreat.
She rode boldly in, and was not challenged or disturbed
by the enemy, who may not have seen her, or who respected
her sex and the sacred character of her errand too much to
fire upon or capture the heroine. The lifeless body of the
captain she lifted and laid over he; horse, and with this
double, and to most persons fearful, load, she rode alone
for twelve miles before she found the majority of the regiment, and could deliver the corpse to those who would give
it Christian burial.
During this ride of twelve miles she came upon a small
wagon train, and rode along with it for some distance.
WVhen some hostile demonstration was made, the teamsters,
who were few in number and poorly armed, were on the
point of making a sudden and what would have been a dishonorable escape and abandonment of their train to the
enemy, when Bridget rode among them, rallied them, told
them there was no real danger, and, in language less polite
than forcible, called upon them " for God's sake not to run
off and leave their wagons before the rebs were within a
mile of the nearest of them."
Her efforts were successful, and the men were actually
recalled to a sense of soldierly duty by a woman, who was
then in the act of rescuing the dead body of an officer who
had fallen in a skirmish, and had been abandoned by his
men, who sought safety in retreat.
The  battle of Fair Oaks commenced  by a vigorous
charge of an overwhelming rebel force upon a single divis
534 
WOMEN AS SOLDIERS.
ion of McClellan's army, which had advanced across the
Chickahominiy.  As Casey's division, thus attacked, gave
way, there was danger that the panic might spread and infect the troops that were hastening to the support. Among
these was the Seventh Massachusetts, that, having advanced
to within range of the rebel artillery, had just received the
order, "Forward," that would in a few moments plunge
them into the heat of the contest. They obeyed the command but slowly, for the enemy's fire was growing every
moment more terrific. Just then "Irish Biddy" came along,
supporting her husband, who had a ball through his le,g.
Swinging her soldier's cap over her head, she shouted,
"Arrah! go in, boys, and bate the bloody spalpeens, and
revinge me husband, and God be wid ye."
The effect was instantaneous and decisive.  The regiment
gave three cheers for " Irish Biddy," and three for the Sev enth.  Then joining the Tenth Massachusetts, and other
troops, they made a gallant and successful charge on the
enemy's centre.
Browned by exposure, and with sensibilities somewhat
hardened by years of constant service in camp, a character
like that of "Irish Biddy"may fail to interest us for its femi nine characteristics, but it must, nevertheless, command our
admiration for its strength, its fortitude, its dauntless cour ag,e, and the genuine and inextinguishable kindness of heart
which led her ever to place the good and the comfort of the
men above all demands of safety, and all considerations of
personal ease.
535 
NELLY M. CHASE.
A SOLDIER, who, though fearfully wounded, has sur   vived that disastrous attempt to storm the enemy's
intrenched lines at Fredericksburg in December, 1862,
gives an admirable account of his sensations when marching
" into the jaws of death," his sufferings on the field, and the
touching kindness with which he was cared for and his life
saved by one of those angels of mercy, a volunteer army
nurse. Inquiry has hitherto failed to reveal more concerning the character and services of Miss Chase than has been
given to the world in the story of this one-armed volunteer;
but this alone is enough to enshrine her in the grateful
hearts of every soldier, and win for her the blessings of all
who love virtue and their country.
After describing the sensations with which he awoke from
his sleep in the streets of Fredericksburg, at the sound of
heavy cannonade, and the manner in which the division
was marched out and pushed forward in the attack, "OneArmed" continues his narrative as follows:- 
"Steady, men -  forward!' rang out the voice of our
commander; and disentangling from the retreating fugitives, we steadily bore on till we neared the batteries, and
with a cheer sprang forward. That instant a line of fire
leaped from behind a stone wall close in our front, and - I
(536) 
NELLY M. CHASE.
don't remember anything more about it. My next recollections were of a confused and contradictory character; one
instant I was fully conscious; the moment following, utterly
lost.
"Then I would imagine I was at home and half asleep,
while all the house was astir with some past or anticipated
catastrophe with which I was in some way connected. Then
all was dark, and a great load seemed to press me down
and glue me to the ground in spite of all my efforts to rise.
Then I heard voices, all strange and heartless but one; this
had chords of human sympathy in it. I could feel something force open my jaws, and a fluid trickle into my throat,
which I managed to swallow to prevent strangling: still it
trickled down, and still I painfully swallowed, hoping,
praying that it would stop; but it did not, until I recognized
that it was some powerful stimulant that I was taking, and
that I was becoming more able to swallow it. All this time
I could hear the kind voice encopraging me; also some cold,
unsympathizing voices. I could not distinguish what they
said: only by the tone could I tell the sympathetic from
the unsympathetic. At last I heard the words in part of
one who said,'It's no use working over him; he's dying
now.' Quietly, but 0, so earnestly and tenderly, the kind
voice replied,'No, doctor, he's not dying; he's coming to
life; he will live if we don't give him up. This wolind on
his head won't amount to anything if we can get him
warmed up. Don't you see he's been nearly frozen to death
while faint from loss of blood? But he's comiing on finely,
and by and by you can take off his arm, and the manl may
get well. Who knows but he has a mother or a sister to
537 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
love him, and thank you or me some day for a son or
brother saved?'
Yes, I was saved;  I understood it all now:  I remembered the battle, and that my present condition was in
some way the result of it; and, for the sake of that dear
mother and sister so strangely invoked, I made an effort to
unclasp my eyelids, and opened my eyes once more to the
light of the sun. At first the glare confused me, but soon
I could distinguish three surgeons beside me, watching my
symptoms with curiosity, if not with interest. On the other
side of me, as I lay on the ground under a large hospital
tent, there was kneeling a woman: her left hand was under
my head; in her right she was holding a spoon, with which,
at short intervals, she dipped some warm fluid from a cup held
by a boy soldier, her attendant.  I tried to speak, but could
not; she merely shook her head, to discourage my efforts,
and turning to the lad, said,' Now, J,ohinny, the beef soup.'
In a moment the soup was substituted for the toddy, and I
gradually felt life, and the love of life, coming back to me.
Looking around, I saw near me a basin of water, with a
sponge, and the lady's hands covered with blood.  I inferred, what I afterwards learned to be the case, that she
had been washing the clotted gore from my hair and face,
and had discovered that what looked like a fatal wound on
the head was merely a scalp cut, which had bled profusely,
and looked hopeless, but was not so in reality.
" Gradually I recovered sufficient strength to undergo the
amputation of my shattered right arm, and then recovered
entirely. I had been struck both onl the head and armn at
the same time, and lay senseless on the field till late in the
538 
NEILLY M. CHASE.
night, when the stretcher-carriers found me, and bore me
to the city, where I was thrown into an ambulance and
taken  across  the river.  After  waiting  my turn with
hundreds of others, I thank God that, when that turn came,
I fell into good hands - the blessed hands of a kind-hearted
woman! Even here, amid the roar and carnilage, was found
a woman with the soul to dare danger; the heart to sympathize with the battle-stricken; sense, skill, and experience,
to make her a treasure beyond all price. The choicest
blessings of Heaven be hers in all time to come! Since my
recovery I have observed her in her ministrations, and I see
she is gifted in a wonderful degree for scenes like these.
She has been in the army ever since the war broke out, and
ever at the front. Rear hospitals are no place for this
noble girl. Though not twenty-four when I first saw her
on that memorable day, I do not believe, as an army nurse,
she has an equal any where. The surgeon of the Seventyninth New York, stationed in the hospital from which this
is written, has placed her in charge of our supplies and
stores, and most efficiently does she deal them out.
"Many a poor wounded soldier would lack his tinlely
stimulant, or food proper for his condition, if she did not
pass through the tents at all hours of the day and night; for
they say she seldom sleeps. For many months she was con nected with the One Hundredth Pennsylvania, known as the
Roundhead RPegiment, and went with it to South Carolina.
At the time of Benham's defeat on James Island, Dr.
McDonald, who was there, says she performed incredible
labors, as she does here. Among the many developments
of character produced by this war, I have seen none that I
539 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
consider more admirable than Miss Nelly M. Chase.  She
has never been a paid nurse, but considers herself a member of the regiment, and works for others only when she
cannot accompany it. For all the labors, privations, and
hardships of her campaigning life, her only reward is the
consciousness of being so largely useful, and the unbounded
admiration and gratitude of the private soldiers, who almost'worship her."
540 
WOMAN'S SACRIFICES.
IN one of the great battles of the war, among thousands
of similar sacrifices, there fell a noble young man from
Philadelphia. His body was taken up, embalmed, and forwarded to the house of his grandmother, Mrs. Ellet. Soon
after its arrival two sympathetic and warm-hearted gentlemen, Mr. George H. Stuart, president of the Christian
Commission, with the Rev. Robert Patterson, D. D., of
Chicago, called upon her to condole with her upon the loss,
and to offer the consolations of religion.  Dr. Patterson
expressed the hope that the Lord would sustain her under
her bereavement. " I regret," answered the noble-spirited
woman, "that I cannot give as largely of my means to this
war as I might have done in other and better days. But I
shall be happy to place in your hands, Mr. Stuart, two beautiful and very valuable shawls, the proceeds of their sale to
be distributed among the widows and orphans of soldiers
fallen in battle. Two sons I have already given, Commodore Ellet, of the Ram Fleet, and Brigadier-Genera Ellet,
of the Marine Brigade, and four grandsons; nor do I regret
the gift. Had I twenty sons, I would devote them all to
the cause. Were I twenty years younger, I would go and
fight myself to the last, for the country must and shall be
preserved."
(541) 
WOMEN OF THiE WAR.
Shortly after the first call of President Lincoln, a regi ment of volunteers was standing in the streets of one of the
cities of Pennsylvania) nearly ready to take up their line of
march for the national capital.
The troops were very gay and light-hearted.  Many of
them were boys, and thought it was only a ninety days'
frolic they were starting on. In the midst of a small squad
of hardy-looking, men stood a tall, raw-boned youth, whose
animal spirits seemed to be inexhaustible. He had been
making fun for them all the afternoon.  "Well, boys," said
he, "we're going off  ar'ln't we? "  "Yes, we are," replied
half a dozen voices.    When we get there, may be we won't
give'em fits, eh?"    May be we won't," was the response.
Just then an old woman in a thin, faded,woollen shawl,
came elbowing her way among the men, and turning up a
searching look to one after another of the tallest fellows, as
though very anxious to find some one. In a moment she
stood before this lighthearted young volunteer. His eyes
dropped instantly; his face was covered with a flush; and as
he turned his head, he lifted his finger to his eye, and shook
it with a twirl as he said, "Now, mother, mother! you
promised me that you wouldn't come out —didn't ye? Now
you promised me.  When I said'Good -by' to ye, mother,
I told ye I didn't want ye to come out here and unman me,
and here ye've done it.  Now I wish ye hadn't."
The old woman lifted up her wrinkled, labor-knotted
hands, and laid them on the great, broad shoulders of her
stalwart boy.  The tears ran down her face as she said,
0, Jack, don't scold me; don't scold your poor old mother,
Jack; you know you're all I have, Jack; and I didn't come
542 
WOMAN'S SACRIFICES.
out to unman ye; I didn't come out to unman ye, Jack  I
have come to say, God bless ye, Jack; God bless ye;"
and folding the little faded shawl over her breast, she
slipped away between the men, and walked rapidly down
the street. The big, soldier boy drew his sleeve rudely over
his face, and bringing down his arm with a sort of vexed
emphasis, as though defying the emotion he could not colntrol, blurted out, as a sort of apology for his wet cheek,
"Hang it, boys, she's mother, you know."
In a few moments the band struck up a lively air, and
thle order, " Column, forward, march! " came down the long
line from the mounted colonel.
"Just then," says a bystander, "I saw a little girl standing on a doorstep. She was ten or twelve years of age, I
should judge.  As I looked in her face, my attention was
arrested.  A deep cloud of sorrow came over and rested
upon that young brow.   She stood with her little hands
clasped tightly, and the childish face seemed pinched with
very agony.  And I thought,'Well, now, what can be the
matter with that child?'  I determined to watch her.  So I
took my stand near by. The sound of the music grew
nearer and nearer. By and by the heavy tramp of the men
was heard. As they approached us, I saw that little form
becoming more fixed. and rigid; the hands began to quiver;
her neck was stretched with eager intensity, and her eyes
were fairly riveted upon the men as they came marching
slowly by the door. A moment after, I was startled by a
penetrating little voice, as she cried out, " 0, that's him!
that's him!. It's pa! it's pa! He's going! he's going! he's
gone!" and with loud sobbings, as though she knew she
543 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
would never see that sober-faced, broad-shouldered patriot
again, she turned away and entered the house.
A  MOTrER's SAcRIFICE.
The records and desolations of our great war do not
appear alone in the empty sleeves which we see in every
village, nor in the blackened ruins that mark the pathway
of our great armies.  The most incurable wounds, and the
losses hardest to be supported, were suffered by the mothers
who gave up darling and only sons to the sacrifice.
What mother can read the followiing story of the enlistment and death of "Little Eddie, the drummer boy," without feeling that neither glory nor public honors can ever
malke up her loss or heal her lacerated heart?  We give the
story as the soldiers tell it.
"A few days before our regiment received orders to join
General Lyon, on his march to Wilson's Creek, the drummer of our company was taken sick and conveyed to the
hospital, and on the evening preceding the day that we were
to march, a negro was arrested within the lines of the camp,
and brought before our captain, who asked him'what business he had within the lines!'  He replied,'I know a
drummer that you would like to enlist in your company,
and I have come to tell you of it.' He was immediately
requested to inform the drummer that if he would enlist
for our short term of service, he would be allowed extra
pay; and to do this, he must be on the ground early in the
morning.  The negro was then passed beyond the guard.
On the following morning there appeared before the
captain's quarters, during the beating of the reveille, a good
544 
I 
~                                     ~                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~l~I 
WOMAN'S SACRIFICES.
looking, middle-aged woman, dressed in deep mwourning,
leading by the hand a sharp, sprig,htly-looking boy, apparently about twelve or thirteen years of age.  HIer story was
soon told.  She was from East Tennessee, where her husband had been killed by the rebels, and all their property
destroyed.   She had come to St. Louis in search of her
sister; but not finding her, and being destitute of money,
she thought if she could procure a situation for her boy as
a drummer for the short time that we had to remain in
the service, she could find employment for herself, and perhaps find her sister by the time we were discharged.
"During the rehearsal of her story the little fellow kept
his eyes intently fixed upon the countenance of the captain,
who was about to express a determination not to take so
small a boy, when he spoke out,'Don't be afraid, captain;
I can drum.'  This was spoken with so much confidence,
that the captain immediately observed, with a smile,'Well,
well, sergeant, bring the drum, and order our fifer to come
forward.' In a few moments the drum was produced, and
our fifer, a tall, round-shouldered, good-natured fellow, from
the Dubuque mines, who stood, when erect, something over
six feet in height, soon made his appearance.
"Upon being introduced to his new comrade, he stooped
down, with his hands resting upon his knees, that were
thrown forward into an acute angle, and after peeri',g into
the little fellow's face a moment, he observed,'My little
man, can you drum?' Yes, sir,' he replied,' I drummed
for Captain Hill, in Tennessee.' Our fifer immediately commenced straightening himself upward until all the angles in
his person had disappeared, when he placed his fife at his
35
543 
WOMEN OF THE WVAR.
mouth, and played the'Flowers of Edinboro"- -one of the
most difficult things to follow with the drum that could
have been selected; and nobly did the little fellow follow
him, showing himself to be a master of the drum.  When
the music ceased, our captain turned to the mother and
observed,'Madam, I will take your boy.  WVhat is his
name?''Edward Lee,' she replied; then placing her hand
upon the captain's arm, she continued,' Captain, if he is not
killed'- here her maternal feelings overcame her utteranlce, and she bent down over her boy and kissed him upon
the forehead. As she arose, she observed,'Captain, you
will bring him back with you- won't you?'
"Yes, yes,' he replied,'we will be certain to bringT him
back with us. 5WVe shall be discharged in six weeks.'
"In an hour after, our company led the Iowa First out
of camp, our drum and fife playing'The girl I left behind
me., Eddie, as we called him, soon became a great favorite
with all the men in the company.  When any of the boys
had returned from a horticultural excursion, Eddie's share
of the peaches and melons was the first apportioned out.
During, our heavy and fatiguing march from Rolla to Springfield, it was often amusing to see our long-legged fifer
wading through the mud with our little drummer mounted
upon his back, and always in that position when fording
streams.
Duriing the fight at WVilson's Creek I was stationed with
a part of our company on the right of Totten's battery, while
the balance of our company, with a part of the Illinois regiment, was ordered down into a deep ravine upon our
left, in which it was known a portion of the enemy was
546 
'WOMIAN'S SACRIFICES.
concealed, with whom they were soon engaged. The contest
in the ravine continuilng some time, Totten suddenly wheeled
his battery upon the enemy in that quarter, when they soon
retreated to the high ground behind their lines.  In less
than twenty minutes after Totten had driven the enemy
from the ravine, the word passed from man to manl throughout the army,'Lyon is killed!' and soon after, hostilities
having ceased upon both sides, the order came for our main
force to fall back upon Springfield, while a part of the Iowa
First and two companies of the Missouri regiment were to
camp upon the ground and cover the retreat next morning.
That night I was detailed for guard duty, my turn of guard
closing with the morning call.  Vhen I went out with the
officer as a relief, I found that my post was upon a high
eminence that overlooked the deep ravine in which our men
had e,ngaged the enemy, until Totten's battery came to their
assistance.   It was a dreary, lonesorme beat.  The moon
had gone down in the early part of the night, while the
stars twinkled dimly through a hazy atmosphere, lighting
up imperfectly the surrounding objects.   Occasionally I
would place my ear near the ground and listen for the
sound of footsteps; but all was silent, save the far-off howling of the wolf, that seemed to scent upon the evening air
the banquet that we had been preparing for him.  The
hours passed slowly away, when at length the morning light
beganl to streak along the eastern sky, mnaking, surrounding
objects more plainly visible.  Presently I heard a drum
beat up the morning call. At first I thought it came from
the camp of the enemy across the creek; but as I listened,
I found that it came up from the deep ravine; for a few
547 
WOMEN OF TiHE WAR,.
minutes it was silent, and then, as it became more light I
heard it again.  I listened, the sound of the drum was
familiar to me, and I knew that it was
'Our drummer boy from Tennessee,
Beating for help the reveille.'
" I was about to desert my post to go to his assistance,
when I discovered the officer of the guard approaching with
two men.  We all listened to the sound, and were satisfied
that it was Eddie's drum. I asked permission to go to his
assistance. The officer hesitated, saying that the orders
were to march in twenty minutes.  I promised to be back
in that time, and he consented. I immediately started
down the hill, through the thick undergrowth, and upon
reaching the valley, I followed the sound of the drum, and
soon found him seated upon the ground, his back leaning
against the trunk of a fallen tree, chile his drum hung
upon a bush in front of him, reaching nearly to the ground.
As soon as he discovered me he dropped his drumsticks
and exclaimed,'O corporal, I am so glad to see you!
Give me a drink,' reaching out his hand for my canteen,
which was empty. I immediately turned to bring him some
water from the brook that I could hear rippling through
the bushes near by, when, thinking that I was about to
-leave him, he commenced crying, saying:' Don't lave me,
corporal - I can't walk.' I was soon back with the water,
when I discovered that both of his feet had been shot away
by a cannon ball. After satisfying his thirst, he looked up
into my face and said,'You don't think I will die, corporal, do you? This man said I would not -he said the
548 
WOMBN'S SACRIFICES.
surgeon could cure my feet.'  I flow discovered a manl
lying in the grass near him.  By his dress I recognized
him as belonging to the enemy. It appeared that he had
been shot through the bowels, and fallen near where Eddie
lay.  IKnowing that he could not live, and seeing the condition of the boy, he had crawled to him, taken off his
buckskin suspenders, and corded the little fellow's legs
below the knee, and then laid down and died.  While he
was telling me these particulars, I heard the tramp of cavalry coming down the ravine, and in a moment a scout of
the enemy was upon us, and I was taken prisoner. I requested the officer to take Eddie up in front of him, and
he did so, carrying him with great tenderness and care.
WVhen we reached the camp of the enemy the little fellow was dead."
" TIIAT FEELS LIKE MOTHEr'S HAND."
During, the last year of the conflict a young officer in a
Rhode Island battery received a fearful wound in his right
leg from a fragment of a shell.  A week of dreadful pain
and hardship ensued, during which he was transported from
the front, near Richmond, to Washington.  The surgeons
here, upon consultation, advised anl amputation.  He telegraphed home that all was well, and composed himself to
bear whatever mig,ht be in the future, with the fortitude of
a true soldier. The operation was performed; but the
condition of the patient was critical.  His constitution did
not rally after the shock, and he was carefully nlursed by
one of those angels of mercy whose presence illuminated
so many of our military hospitals.
549 
VWOMIEN OF THE WAR.
His mother, in Rhode Island, who, with the intuition of a
woman, had apprehended the extent of the danger, left
home on the receipt of the telegraph, and reached Washington at midnight.  As the surgeon had enjoined the utmost
calmness and quiet as indispensable to the wounded hero,
the mother was not allowed to see her suffering, boy at
once, but sat in an adcljoining room patiently waiting for
daylight and the permission of the surgeon to enter the
ward where he lay.
As the nurse sat there fanningil  the patient and resting
her fingiers on the fluttering and feverish pulse, she was
thinking every moment of that heavy-hearted mother in
the next room, every fibre of whose heart was yearniing
to come and sit where she was sittiing, and lay her hand on
her boy.  At length, when the ward was still and dark, slhe
glided out, and told his mother that she might go in very
!
softly and take her place; that he seemed to be sleeping, and
probably would not know the difference. Gently and without uttering a word, she moved to his bedside, and ].aid her
fingers on the wrist, as the nurse had directed; but the
patient, though apparently asleep, perceived a change in the
character of the touch. Nature was too strong to be deceived: opening his eyes, he said, "That feels like my
mother's hand.  Who is this beside me?  It is my mother I
Turn up the gas, and let me see mother!"
The gas was turned up.  The true-hearted boy saw that
he was right, and their faces now met in a long, joyful,
sobbing embrace.
He rallied a little after she came, and seemed to try very
hard, on her account, to feel strolnger. But the stump
550 
WOM-AN'S SACRIFICES.
showed bad symptoms, and another amputation, nearer the
body, was decided upon, after which he sank.
As the end approached, weeping friends told him that it
only remained to make his condition comfortable. He said
he had looked death in the face too many times to be afraid
now.'He had just completed his twenty-first year, and the
third of his service in the United States army, when the
final bugle-call reached his ears, and the mother laid away
the mutilated form of her soldier boy in a sleep from which
no electrical touch of maternal love can ever waken him.
THE W OMEN OF THE PRAIRIES.
A great number of the most genuine instances of heroism
and self-sacrifice occurred under circumstances that render
it impossible for the historian and the annalist to preserve
any distinct record of them. The soldier, no matter what
his regiment, or in which branch of the service he has ellnlisted, whether on land or on sea, moves in the eye of the
world, and can hardly fail of due praise if he exhibits conspicuous gallantry on the field, or uncommon bravery on
the deck of the man-of-war. But the wife and the mother,
the sister and the daughter, who have been left without protection and without aid in the solitary cabin, in the lonesome cottage, -what "general order" can praise their selfsacrifice? what bulletin can herald their acts of dcwotion?
During, the four years while  the struggle continued,
two millions of men in the loyal states were subtracted
from the productive labor of the country, and for longler or
shorter periods engaged in military service. Inl the manufacturing, communities this deficiency could be supplied
551 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
with little perceptible derangement. Machinery could do
the work that had been performed by muscle, and the millions of Europe were separated from our shores by an ocean
that seems ever to grow narrower. But in the West it was
otherwise, for that part of our country is agricultural.
Nothing could have enabled those magnificent  regions to
respond so promptly and enthusiastically to the successive
calls for men as they did, had not the "lamp of sacrifice"
burned on all those hearth-stones; had not the spirit of
Christian heroism inspired the hearts of those women of
the prairies.
In the absence of so large a number of farmers and farm
laborers, agricultural production would in many sections
have been cut short, in others almost suspended, had not the
women, with a promptness and patriotism rarely equalled
in history, volunteered to add field labor to their home
employments.  " Go," said they, as from time to time the
Good President, his heart burdened with the woes of his
people, felt the necessity of calling for fresh relays of
men, "go at the country's call.  We  cannot, for we are
women; but our sex does not prevent us from assuming
your labors.  Go, but your plough shall not rust in the
furrow where you have left it; weeds shall not choke the
corn; the potatoes will not be left to rot in the ground;
the ripened wheat shall not be abandoned in tie golden
fields.  WTith the hands that God has given us, and this
fertile soil on which we walk, though none remain with us
but boys and graybeards, neither we nor you inll the army
shall suffer for lack of bread." How nobly that pledge
was redeemed is shown by the wonderfully prosperous con
552 
WVOMA'S SACRIFICES.
dition of the loyal states at the end of four years of
,ioantic warfare.
When the scarred and swarthy veterans, the lines of
whose marches had woven a network over the entire face
of the Southern States, returned to their homes amid the
green savannas of the broad North-west, there were  no
marks of lneglect to be erased, no evidences of dilapidation and decay.  They found their farms in as good a colndition as when they enlisted.  Enhanced prices had balanced diminished production.  Crops  had  been planted,
tended, and gathered, by hands that before had been all
unused to the hoe and the rake. The sadness lasted only
in those households - alas! too numerous - where no disbandiing of armies could restore the soldier to the loving
arms and the blessed industries of home.
But even these desolated families were not without those
consolations that for the noble-hearted, can rob widowhood
of half its bitterness. Had they not fallen bravely? Were
not their names forever linked with great battle-fields?
And had not the cause for which they had shouldered arms,
and for which they had poured out their lives, been carried
by the united labors and sacrifices of all to a triumphant
issue and a glorious peace?
553 
MISS JANE BOSWELL MOORE.
OME who gave themselves to the toils and excitements
of army life, and did much for the relief of suffering in
camp and hospital, were incited by the recollection of
brilliant achievements and shining record of ancestors and
kinsmen who figured conspicuously in the Revolution and
in the old English wars.  This was especially true of a
young lady of Baltimore, Miss -Jane Boswell Moore, who
commenced her army labors in the early part of the war,
and continued them, with but brief interruptions from sickness, until midsummer of 1865, after the capture of Rich
mollnd.
Her grandfather was a colonel under Wellington in the
early part of his splendid military career, when he
"in far Assaye
Clashed with his fiery few and won."
Her ancestors on both sides fought at the siege of Derry,
and distinguished themselves. Colonel Andrew{ Boyd, a
maternal kinsman, was an officer who served with repute in
the war of theRevolution.  These family honors and traditions had so wrought upon a temperament naturally enthusiastic, that when our civil war began to mutter its
thunders, and to rock the nation with the shock of arms,
(4) 
MISS JANE BOS5VELL MOORE.
Miss Moore regarded this as a summons to her to show by
her self-imposed labors, by zeal and devotion, by courage
in danger, and by patience in hardships, that she was not
unworthy of the martial blood she inherited.   The first
service she performed was developed in the loyal press of
the city to which she belonged, in a series of pungent and
unanswerable rebukes to treason. When she entered upon
her duties in the sanitary field of the war, her mother
became her inseparable companion, and the story of their
experiences, most of which is from their own lips, will be
found in the words which follow: -
" Who can do justice to the heroism and endurance of our
soldiers in this war?  The patriotism of a true private
seems to excel all others- it is so pure, so free from
hope or expectation of gain or renown, so unselfish and
real.  Of the tens of thousands who have fallen, unknown,
save to a few dear ones of the home circle, it may be truthfully be said, Their only record is on high, and in the eye
of Him to whom all thoughts and motives are open, surely
no sight can be more pleasing, than the steady performance
of noble, faithful deeds, without thought of, or reference to,
earthly reward. No noble or heroic action can ever be
without its measure of influence: to rescue, then, a few of
these from forgetfulness, is no unworthy endeavor.
It is not often I allow myself to dwell oil the fearful
realities of the past, as they now rise before me; -from
the first hospital, or barracks thrown open in Baltimore,
after the battles of Bull Run and Williamsburg, to the
closing scenes of the great struggle. A simple incident
led us to one of these,-  even as we heard convalescing
555 
WOMEN OF THE WAT.
patients allude to the battle-fields-I fainted. But they said
our sympathy cheered them, and after a determined stru,ggle our visits were constant. How little my mother or self
then thought of the scenes awaiting us!  Among returned
prisoners at McKim's, we saw Samuel E. Smith, a Penllsylvania lad, the fragrant memorial of whose early death has
since gonle forth to many thousands of souls.  By the light
of a dimly-risilng, moon we rode over the burial trenches
of Antietam to Smoketownl Hospital, through whose scattered grove of trees the roaring of the December wind
sounded like the notes of some great funeral organ.  Our
tent was daily visited by an ever coming and going, throng
of the maimed and sick.  How humble their thanks for
paper, ink, books, and little delicacies made us!  We had
no more welcome guest than the then boy-hero, James O.
Ladd, of Massachusetts, whose right arm was gone.'But
0,' said he with gathering tears, "'it can't be that my days
of helping the cause are over. I want to do more, 0, so
much more!'  What  a history was that of this gifted
youth, who has been inll the service ever since passing
six months in southern prisons! A  picture of desolate
grandeur was Harper's Ferry, with its rude hospitals, its
dead on the hill-side, whose march was over, and its tens
of thousands of the living thronging every winding path
on their way to Fredericksburg, Martinsburg, and Cumberland, in whose old mill, on a wild March evening, we
watched the failing breath of Dutton, a New York soldier,
dying  away from'an ever-loving and almost forsaken
mother'; from Grafton and Wheeling to the old ruined
town of Winchester, by whose desolate churches so many
556 
MISS JANE BOSWELL MOORE.
of our dead are sleeping, and our little room in Taylor
Hospital then (under General Milroy) crowded with fever
patients.
We hurried away from here to the wounded of Chancellorsville, those of a single corps covering a large plain at
Brook Station. Our tents (for store-room, kitchen, and
sleeping) were in a secluded ravine, overhung with laurel.
We had sad music- the bands on the hill-side with their
mournful'dead march,' by open graves, and the plaintive
cry of the whippoorwill, when our busy day was done.
The hurried falling back, and Gettysburg with all its horrors,
among whose dead and dying we passed a month, and
then found ourselves encamped along, the Rappalhamnnock.
In the midst of spring's early blossoms we watched Sigel's
march up the Valley, visiting his forces just before they
left Winchester, with stationery, pickles, &c., andl hurried
back over deserted roads, with our precious mnail-bags
bearing thirteen hundred letters, many of them the last
messages to friends, and a large flag intrusted to us, and
recaptured from the rebels, who took it from us at the time
of Milroy's disaster. A deserted cabin formed our next
quarters at Point of Rocks, close to the swamps of the
Appomattox, where we saw the opening bombardment of
Petersburg.  The New Hampshire youth, Leonard Wiggan,
fell asleep here as the guns were firing, with whispered
words of his widowed mother, the shade of green trees,
and the babbling brook at home.
" How distinctly memory recalls the night of his deaththe doors, windows, and walls of our rude dwelling shook
and rattled so under every gun, that we willingly left it,
557 
WO'MEN OF THE wVAR.
and stood by the stile in the light of a full moon, watching
the exploding shells.  We then made Leonard the lemonade he had enjoyed so much, for the last time.  Before the
morning broke, he heard the guns no more.  His prayer,
'Lord, take me home from all my sufferings,' was answered.
"HIalf an hour after they were wounded, many of the victims of the fatal mine explosion were under our care, for,
by a special order from General Grant, we were allowed
to remove to  the'front,' something over a mile  and
a half from Petersburg.   Our tent, which stood in the
mlidst of a group of pines, was shaded with boughs, and the
earth strewn with a carpet of pine needles, the dull, monlotonous, awful sound of continued musketry firing being ever
in our ears.  The soul sickens with the horror of the scenes
in those woods on and after July 30.  What noble letters those brave, crippled, colored soldiers dictated, through
us, to friends they were never to see!
"-Amid the booming of guns from the neighboring battlefield of Cedar Creek, on all October morning, we entered
our little room  on Braddock Street, Winchester.   How
many times were the barrels and boxes of that crowded
spot replenished by the Sanitary and Christian Commissions during the six lolng, busy months of labor among
the regimental hospitals, as well as in the snowy tents of
Sheridan, covering so many suffering and dying souls!
0, the sad heart-rending letters written nightly to kindred  far away, by that blazing fire of  Virginia rails.
Twenty messengers sometimes in a day, some to stricken
parents, telling of the death of a first or youngest born;
some wvife would learn from another that strangers cared
558 
MISS JANE BOSWELL MOORE.
for and closed the eyes of a dying husband; while to
others tidings of safety were gladly sent.  That long; cold
winter, with its varied and constant cares, passed away, and
with tearful eyes, on a Sabbath morning in spring, we heard
the church windows rattle amid the booming of great guns,
and rejoiced, though in an enemy's country, that victory
long delayed was ours. But the brave men who had earned
it for us were weary; so we passed under Fort Drury's now
silent gunls, with our stores, into Richmond, for ten weeks'
labor among worn-out troops. This seemed the hardest of
all our camnpaigns; but the end was near: we saw it when the
several armies passed through that city, bearing the tattered
remnants of what had once been banners, intrusted to them
by a redeemed people.  Many were so worn out that we
found it harder to cheer them than during the war.  Are
you weary, reader, even of the hasty record of these campaigls? Think, then, of the debt we owe to those who endured them for us.... Among the wounded at Brook
Station, were many who were mere boys.  I remember the
names of three from far-off states, WTilliam Lauer, Hugh McDonald, and Edward Goodman.  They had lost limbs, and I
shall never forget their simple, childish joy, when I put
aside their coarse hospital fare, and gave them instead, Qn
their tin plates, soft crackers, butter, and nourishing food.
They were too shy to speak but little. Hugli wiped his
moist eyes with his one remaining hand. Edward was a
little German boy.   On my way to a dying soldier who
thought I couldcl make him tea, and custard, such as he had
had at home, a nurse ran out to ask me to stop on my return at his tent, where a little boy, who had lost a leg,
559 
WOM3vEN OF THE WAR.
was anxious to see me.  I went to his cot and offered him
some delicacy, when he remarked, with great earnestness,
It is not for the things you bring, though they are very
nice, that I want to see you; but the sight of your face
does me so much good! and here I haven't seen you in four
days!' A burst of laughter greeted this speech, and I was
obliged to explain that my absence had been through no
neglect, but from the fact that there were hundreds in that
corps to whom my visits were exceedingly desirable; but
from that time, whenever it was at all possible, I went in
and for a few minutes let him look at me, which he always
did steadily, and with an expression of sincere childish
satisfaction.  The last time I saw him was on the morning
of that hurried abandonment of Acquia Creek, as I distributed lemons, boiled eggs, and other articles among those
waiting removal.  He lay on a stretcher in the sun, by the
rude freight cars, and I trembled, as I filled his canteen,
for the poor mainmed member, after its secondary amputation, having that rough ride in prospect.' Are yotu going
with us?' he asked.'No,' I replied,'we shall not leave
until all the wounded are away.'' Will you come and see
me in Washington?''I am afraid not; there will probably be another battle, and other poor boys will need me.'
On carrying to Dalton his daily meal, I found on the
next cot an Ohio lad of nineteen, whose leg had been amputated the day before. He had not eaten anything all day,
but took some crackers, fruit, and a cup of tea, and then
told me he had two lemons in his knapsack, which he was
afraid would spoil, as he could get no one to make him
some lemonade. I made him a tin cup full, and heard him
560 
MISS JANE BOSWELL MOORE.
say it was the best he had ever tasted. One day he showed
me a letter from home.'Isn't it a nice long, one?  Father
wrote a bit, and then mother; and then they were afraid it
wasn't enough, and they wrote more.'  And a noble letter
it was, - every line of the four foolscap pages telling of
yearning love, of sharp pain smothered for his sake; the
mother's heart longing to have him with her, to show him
how he should be nursed and cared for; but the father bade
him be of good cheer; it would be strange if they would
not look after him, and he would much rather have him
crippled as he was, than have the taint of coward or copperhead on his name. I told Albert's soldier scribe to tell
his mother, a southern woman who detested treason and
who knew better than many its cost, had charge of him, and
would do all in her power for him.'I've just been having
him tell her so,' was his pleased reply.
Late at night our room in Taylor Hospital was closed,
and amid the sound of nailing coffins in the next room, we
sought sleep. But a colstant hollow cough was heard from
the opposite side, and one day a pale, consumptive boy
handed us a handkerchief to hemn, saying he had bought it,
and'paid money for it.' It was his coug,h we had heard;
he was the only son of a poor widow in West Virginia.
When we asked him if he would not like to die at home,
his sad face assumed an almost hopeless expressions as he
said,'his mother would be the proudest woman in West
Virginia if she could only see her boy; but he had no hope
of it.'  We said nothiing to raise his hopes, for we well
knew the character of the surgeon of his regiment, since
gone to give account for much cruelty; but we lost no time
36
561 
WO3MEN OF THIE WAR.
in making his case known to General Milroy, whose indi,gnation was almnost as great as our own.  In the evening I
carried him the news, with his supper, filling, his haversack
with good things. He could hardly credit me, and was so
weak that it seemed doubtful how he would travel the five
miles from the railroad station to his home.'Somebody
will give you a lift,' I said as cheerily as I could;'just tell
them your story.' How long he lived I never knew.
"Not the least distressing sight, after a great battle, is
that of friends in search of the wounded and fallen.  Ofttimes the claims of those suffering are so great that the
dead can scarcely be thought of.  One evening  a poor
widow, with five little children at home dependent on her
earnings as a seamstress, came from Philadelphia to look
for her eldest boy on the field of Gettysburg.   She had
heard he was dead, but could not believe it. On reaching
the hospital she was told he was in,one of the tents.'0,'
she said,' how my heart beat for joy! but when I went in,
they told me he was dead.' He bad written to her that
nothing would induce him to miss this battle, as on it
depended the fate of Pennsylvania, and perhaps the whole
counitry.  During the last day's battle he raised his head
from behind a stone wall to fire, and being, shot through the
head, was instantly killed.'0,' said the poor mother,
'if I could only know he was prepared!'  She could be
resigned to it all, she said, if her boy's body could go with
her, and be buried where she could see his grave. And in
perfect trust, she handed me fifteen dollars,-all she had,and begged me to tell her what to do. I had not a minute
to spare, save early in the morning; but I made diligent
562 
MISS JA'E BOSWELL MOORE.
inquiry, and found a comrade of her son, who described
his grave.  Then we went together to the man who removed
and prepared bodies for transportation. It was clear her
money would amount to little. I said so while I was thinking what to do, and she fearfully caught at the words,
assuring me she would sew at government tents and bags,
any length of time after her return, to make it up.'Such
an idea never entered my mind,' I replied;'I was only
thinking what was best to do.   We will arrange it some
way.'  So I told her story to the grave-digger, whose wife
at once gave her her board in their humble house, while
her husband reduced his charges. Then we walked to
Adams express office, passing a great pile of rusty muskets
lately gathered from the battle-field. I could hardly get
her away from these.' I wonder if mny boy's is there,' she
said sadly; and then, as she entered the express office,
where her feelings overcame her,'It Nvas through it,' she
said,'my boy used to send me his little bit of money!'
Only the beginning, thought I, of sad memories to haunt
her after-life.  Here I pleaded her case again, not doubting
the result, as every facility possible had been afforded me
during the war from the company. Transportation tickets
to Baltimore were next procured, and I hurriedly wrote, in
the office of the provost, a note to a friend who would pass
her the rest of the way. Then she rode in the ambulance
as far as it went on her way to search for the grave, and I
promised to see her again in the evening.  The excitement
was then over; she had found the grave, and though unable
to see her boy, a lock of his hair had been cut for her, and
all was ready for her to leave on the morrow, a gentleman
563 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
in Philadelphia having offered her burial-room in his lot.
But words failed her when she tried to express her gratiude;
she could only pour out blessings.
" As I moved in the midst of the appalling scenes on the
day of the mine explosion at Petersburg, I heard many
groans and prayers. One just brought from the'table,'
was saying, with all the fervor of a departing soul,'I shall
never see my home again; but, Lord, don't you forget me.'
Colored citizens of Baltimore cried to us to give them  only
one cracker,' and our hearts melted when the appeal was
enforced by their directing attention to the stump of all amputated arm or leg.  The distress of one poor boy was
great; yet he eagerly questioned all whom he saw as to the
result of the battle. No one seemed able to soothe him; he
mentioned the names of the boys in his regiment, and his
great concern for them; then his eyes filled with tears, and
he wept, unmindful of his own woun].  I went to him, and
told him how fearful I was that he would injure himself by
excitement, which could do no good.'Were we to give
way to our feelings at such a time, what would become of
us, or those around us? It is an awfiil day to us all; we
can only trust in God. Now I want to do all I canll to help
these poor boys, and to do so I must be very calm; I know
you will help me.' He smiled amid his tears, saying,'I
haven't seen a lady for months, and it does seem sweet to see
one in this awful place.'
"When, in a drenching rain, we visited Haxall's Landing,
on James River, with barrels of pickles for Sheridan's weary
raiders, the brave and chivalrous Colonel Preston,of the First
Vermont cavalry, tin cup in hand, dealt them out to his
564 
MISS JANE BOSWELL MOORE.
tired men, meeting our thanks with the reply,'No, ladies,
I feel that I cannot do too much for soldiers.' And then
he proposed, and they all gave, three hearty cheers for their
friends ill Baltimore. But a short time after, riding in the
cars, I saw chronicled in the morning paper the heavy loss
of theFirst Vermont, and the death of the noble colonel,
leading a charge at Cold Harbor.  The same kind interest
was shown by the brave Colonel Thoburn of the First West
Virginia, on our somewhat perilous trip to Romney,  and
long afterwards, at the close of a weary day in Winchester,
we saw his coffin borne through with tearful eyes.
In ward twenty of Sheridan Hospital lay a soldier
named Powers, who had a wife and six children in Connecticut. His wound was through the body. When I first
saw him, he was weak and faint, emaciated almost to a
skeleton, and so feeble and tremulous, that he could not
raise a cup to his lips without assistance. His eyes were
unnaturally bright; but his nurse, a kind, intelligent man,
thought, with the best of food and care, he might yet be
saved.'But,' said he,'where is he to get them?'  His
physician was a Scotchmanl, always grateful for attention
paid his patients; and from that day I took this one under
my especial care, driving daily to his tent with wine, milk
punch, egg-nog, canned chicken, butter, jelly, tea, pickles,
&c., varying his fare as often as possible, and his improvement fairly astonished us. At first it was a little jelly he
craved, and that tasted'so good' to him; but by and by he
relished stronger food. For thirty years, we were told,
Shenandoah Valley had not seen such a winter.  Even in
February the snow was a foot deep, and the cold was
565 
~OMIEN OF TIE wAR.
severely felt in those open tents on that bleak hill-side.
Powers's clothes were cotton, and thin at that.  But thanks
to kind hearts somewhere, I was able to furnish him with a
warm woollen outfit; and as I handed him each garment, he
looked up earnestly, saying,'Now, are you sure I am not
taking too much from you?' I told him he must thank
others for them, and that I only fulfilled my duty in giving
them. One day the surgeon in charge passed through, and
seeing him, exclaimed,'Why, man, I thought you were
dead long ago?' And so he would have been, but for those
donations of friends intrusted to us. WVhen I asked him to
inscribe a line in my note-book by way of remembrance, he
replied,'I am too weak to hold the pen firmly; but write
for me, and let it be,  You TOOK ME FROM DEATH!"'
WVhat true Irish eloquence was that!  His physician wrote
under it,'I fully indorse the above, and also thank you for
your unwearying kindness. C. M\. M'/LAURIE.'
"In the same hospital was Isaac Price, of the Fifteenth
Virginia, a soldier of thirty-eight years of age, with a wife
and nine children, the eldest of whom, a lad of nineteen,
was in theTenth Virginia.  But the greatest of calamities
had fallen upon him.  Both his arms had been amputated;
yet he was cheerful and patient, always greeting us with a
smile.  On the receipt of a bag of clothing at Christmas,
he dictated a letter in reply from his home in Bealington,
Barbour County, West Virginia.  Nor was his the only case.
After the battle of Antietam, in the hospitals of Frederick,
we talked with Arias IH. Young, a lad of seventeen, from
Wisconsin, and Daniel Fuller, from Peinnsylvania, both of
whom were thus terribly stricken.
566 
MIISS JANE BOSWELL MOORE.
"In the hospital at Point of Rocks, on the Appomattox,
two cases were peculiarly distressing.  One was that of a
soldier named Heskett, who left a mother, wife, and four
little children, all very destitute.  Two of his brothers had
died ill the army, one never having been heard from;
another, William, was in the service, and Ileskett was
dying.   In his delirium he frequently turned to his nurse,
exclaiming,'There's my wife!  She came up here to see
me! WThy don't you let her come?'  When I wished to
write to his mother,'0, no,' he said,'my mother can't
bear any more trouble.  She has lost so much!'  Ike was
one of the hundred days' men from Ohio, and his sorrowing
family was unable even to have his remains brought home.
The other was Hummiston, who also volunteered for a
hundred days. About an hour before his death, as he lay
on the earth, with a knapsack for a pillow, a letter, once
anxiously looked for, but now, alas,! powerless to give
consolation, was brought in and laid by his side.  It was a
cheerful, happy letter, from a loving, industrious wife,
telling of household straits and cares, with all the sunshine
of a  -lad spirit, enough to give the hardest heart a pang to
read it, and then look at that unconscious, dying man!  In
it was the first child-letter of his little daughter, Flora,'to
dear pa.' In a subsequent letter, Mrs. Hiummiston says,
'I have four children, the eldest about ten years old, and
the youngest seventeen months.   I feel I have a great
responsibility resting upon me, not so much in supporting
them, as in training them up for usefulness and future hap piness. When I think of my lonely and helpless condition,
I can but remember the many widows, made such by this
567 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
terrible war, who have never been used to work, and are
dependent on their own exertions for support.'
"In visiting one of the many houses in Winchester, over
whose floors the wounded were strewn, the morning after
they arrived from the front, I found, in a little up-stairs
room, Sergeant Colby, of the Thirty-fourth Massachusetts
regiment, wounded in the ankle.   He looked dispirited,
and we brought him reading, paper, and pencils, leaving
him some delicacy daily. He whiled away some hours executing two beautiful drawings, now in the keeping of his
bereaved mother, one a female figure of HIope, with uplifted
filng,er, and an anchor grasped in a firm hand; the other a
soldier, pacing his weary rounds as a sentinel in a heavy
snow-storm.  When I found him after his removal to the
field hospital, I was startled by the frightful rapidity with
which death had done his work.'Write something cheering,' he feebly murmured, as a few lines were pencilled to
his mother. It was no common offering that this Christian
mother laid upon the altar of her country. We can ill spare
such men as James Colby. I have never read more touching letters than those written while he was in the army.
They breathe the fervent, earnest spirit of a devoted Christian, and a warmly affectionate and patriotic heart.  It
makes one shudder to think what our condition would have
been, had not the blood of tens of thousands of dearly
loved sons and fathers been thus poured out. HIis mother,
who has a crippled son at home, and has lately buried two
lovely daughters, says,'His plastic nature answered my
fondest hopes. Not only did he grow in all manly virtues,
but God set his seal. James gave his heart to the Saviour ere
568 
MISS JANE BOSWELL MOORE.
he entered the service of his country. He writes just after
battle, "I had no fear, for I knew that God was with meI!"
There was no need that he should make his profession of
faith when he came upon his death-bed. His work was
done- he had nothing to do but to die!  Years ago I
longed and prayed that Inight be permitted t o do something
for the poor slave. By terrible things in righteousness have
I been answered.   Yet I often rejoice, even exult, that I am
permitted to suffer, to weep with those who have wept tears
more agonizing than mine!'  Such is the spirit of one of
the many American women to whose sacrifices our country
owes its life.  Their full reward cannot possibly be here.
"Riding out to regiments near Richmond, I met soldiers
with knapsacks, lately mustered out, and on their way to
Richmond to take the boat for home.   One,  to whom I
gave the'Christian Banner' for his child, said, with tears
in his eyes,'I'll not forget what a comfort your things have
been to me. MIany a time I've written home on the paper
you gave me, when I hadn't a cent to buy any with.'  LMy
eyes filled. Truly this pay was very sweet!
" The war, with its opportunities of usefulness, has indeed
passed away, but the work will never be done while a
maimed or crippled soldier remains in our land. And the
widow and orphan - are they not with us?"
Referring to this long series of exposures and exertions,
Miss Moore says,  "We  drew liberal supplies fiom both
Sanitary and Christian Commissions, as well as largely fromn
individuals, but have ourselves belonged to no association,
and received no compensation from any quarter. None of
our expenses were defrayed, except in the matter of
569 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
government  passes.   As  southern women  who  had no
relatives to give to the cause, we have endeavored to be
behind none in our devotion."
In not a few instances Miss Moore was engaged in the
hazardous work of ministering to the wounded even before
they were removed from the battle-field. She has braved
danger of every kind short of actual presence in a battle, ill
relieving, the sufferings of our wounded braves.
General Emory says of her and her mother,   The names
of Miss and Mrs. Moore are on the lips of thousands to
whom they have ministered in camp and hospital."  General
Grant also testifies to their remarkable useifulness. The
health of Miss Moore has been seriously impaired by the
hardships she has suffered, and by the agitations of those
four years of unremitting military service.   But are not
such sacrifices of ease and health balanced, and more than
compensated, by the consciousness of having discharged,
to the utmost degree of her ability, the duty of a patriot,
and by the affection and gratitude of thousands ready to
perish to whom she brought such timely succor?
570 
WIIAT SANITARY LABORERS HIIAVE
ACCOMPLISHED.
HE  question of the right of a state to secede, and of
slavery to make itself perpetual, though on the ruins
of theRepublic, were not the sole issues that our war has
submitted to the arbitrament of the sword.
Up to the year 1860-we may say till the year 1865
-European monarchists, while admitting the efficiency of
the Great Republic as against foreign enemies, professed a
doubt as to its ability to outlive the assaults of all intestine
foe. That question is now and foreverput at rest.
No one circumstance or fact has done more to establish
this great result than the vast, the untiring, and the systematic contributions which the American people, of their
own free will, and with cheerful alacrity, made to sustain
the soldier in the field, and the widows and orphans of
those who fell. The history of the world had seen nothing
like it before. It marks an epoch in civilized warfare. It
has shown, as nothing else could, the intense patriotism of
our people. It proves that though the constitution is but
an abstract and intellectual statement of our views of government, that parchment is as dear to the American heart
as the person and living presence of any king ever was to
the most enthusiastic loyalist.
(571) 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
The generation to whom the giant questions of 1861
were submitted was essentially and thoroughly peaceful.
The Mexican war was remote and unimportant. It was
not waged to avenge a great wrong, or vindicate a great
principle, and therefore it never laid hold upon the hearts
of the people; it never roused the enthusiasm of the
masses.
It had been almost fifty years since the blood in American veins had been thrilled by the war-trumpet, pouring its
stern and stirring notes across the continent, and calling
the nation to the defence of everything worth living for
and worth dying for.
And when that summons came, how promptly and heroically was it answered! The entire nation, as by a common and simultaneous impulse, resolved itself into a
committee of the whole, to vindicate the national unity
and save the national life.  Twenty millions of people
divided themselves into two grand classes-those who
shouldered the musket and marched to fight the great
battles of the issue, and those who, by reason of their age
or sex, or those immediately dependent on their industry, could not fight, but who commenced at once to do all
in their power to provide for, to sustain, to cheer. to encourage the soldiers in active service.
The question is unimportant as to which city- or which
state was the first to organize those societies for soldiers'
relief which were eventually merged and comprehended in
the great national systems of beneficence known as the
Sanitary and the Christian Commissions. Those noble,
self-sacrificing, and far-reaching organizations were the
572 
"WHAT SANITARY LABORERS ILAVE ACCOMIPLISIIED.  573
natural growth and the logical development of a desire cornmon to ten thousand hearts.  Large credit may be due to
this or that organizing brain for the skill with which the
popular zeal was utilized, and made to bear uniformly and
with success upon the sufferings created by war; but the
popular zeal, the devotion and self-sacrifice, were kindled
by no eloquence, they were manufactured by no daily press,
they emanated from no metropolitan cenltre. Even before
one hostile gun had been fired, and while the national flag
was still afloat, without challenge or insult over the defences of Charleston harbor, here and there busy hands,
prompted by saddened hearts, were scraping lint and rolling bandages- the first fruits of woman's thoughtfulness
and woman's love.  In April, 1861, it was known that war
must be; how vast, how long, or how bloody, was known
only to the Creator of the universe.
Cleveland, probably, can claim the honor of calling the
first public meeting with the view of organizing a Soldiers'
Aid Society.  This was five days after the fall of Sumter.
Six days later, on the 25th of April, a company of women
assembled at the Cooper Institute, in New York, and organized themselves into what was so long known as the
Woman's Central Relief Association of New York." Miss
Louisa Lee Schuyler became the president of this organ izationll, and prepared the circular, which was sent out over
all the land, as an appeal to the women  df the country,
already engaged in preparing against the time of wounds
and sickness. For week after week, till the eventful
months became years big with the records of a nation's
sacrifice, did this accomplished and energetic young woman 
WOMIEN OF THE WAR.
devote herself to the wide field of home labor which the
presidency of this association opened for her.  It was in a
great measure due to the breadth, the wisdom and practical
efficiency  of her plans, that the organization expanded,
taking on a form worthy of the great metropolis where it
originated, and became the United States Sanitary Commission.  Early in the summer of 1861, Miss Schuyler and
the ladies whom she represented felt that there was wanting
a system to act for the soldier with the government, and in
harmony with the established modes of sanitary relief. To
accomplish this, an address was made to the Secretary of
WVar, by the Woman,s Central Relief Association, the advising committee of the Board of Physicians and Surgeons
of the hospitals of New York, and the New York Medical
Association, for furnishilng hospital supplies.
After some natural delay and hesitation, not without
some opposition from red-tape routihists, it was established
under the authority, but not at the expense, of the government, on the 9th of June, 1861, and went into immediate
operation.
The general ideas which it strove to carry into effect,
and upon which its great usefulness was based, were as
follows: -
1. The system of sanitary relief established by the army
reg,ulations to be taken as the best, and the Sanitary Commission is to acquaint itself fully, and see that all its agents
are familiar, with the plans, methods of care and relief, of
the regullar system.
2. The Commission should direct its efforts mainly to
strengthening the regular system in every practicable way,
574
IL' 
WHAT SANITARY LABORERS HAVE ACCOMPLISHED.  575
and securing the favor and cooperation of the Medical Bureau, so as to win a cheerful and unobstructed pathway for
the mercy and charities of a great and loyal people, in their
desire to sustain the soldier in the field.
3. The Commission should know  nothing of religious
differences or state distinctions, distributing without regard
to the place where troops were enlisted, in a purely Federal
and national spirit.
With these cardinal, and, as it were, constitutional provisions, the Sanitary Commission in the summer of 1861
completed its organization.  It constituted, when in operationl, a colossal network of charity, a system of beneficence
as broad as the theatre of the war, an aqueduct of continental proportions, with complicated yet smooth running,
appliances, whose blessed function it was to bring to the
tent, and to the hospital of the weary, the sick, the bleedingi, or the ragged soldier, that moral and material comfort
and sympathy, which had their origin in thousands of
distant villages, by ten thousand solitary hearth-stones.
It is somewhat remarkable, that while the volunteering
enthusiasm of the Northern States died out in the first year
of the war, so that drafting, and at length large bounties,
were necessary to keep up the armies in the field, the liberality and self-sacrifices of the loyal women of theNorth continually increased, so that, after the rage and desolation of
three years of warfare, it was as easy to iraise a hundred
thousand dollars for the soldier as it had been to collect ten
thousand for the same objects in 1861.
No feature of the war was more extraordinary than that series of Sanitary Fairs that were so wonderfully successful in 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
producing abundant supplies for the Commission in the years
1863 and 1864. For more than two years the appeals for
money had been made to be paid directly, and on principle,
for the benefit of the soldier, and the returns thus realized,
though small in detail, gave a magnificent amount ill the
sum total.  More than seven millions had been sent from
the people to the soldiers, through the agency of the Sanitary Commission, before the battle of Gettysburg and the
fall of Vicksburg.  Chicago was the first of the great metropolitan cities to begin this splendid series. She was the
pioneer in these enterprises, and though the year following
she was surpassed by St. Louis, and by Pittsburg and
Philadelphia and others, yet, considering that all they did
was to use to a broader extent, and under a warmer popular
enthusiasm and rivalry, the machinery first brought into
use there, Chicago deserves all praise for the incentive of
her brilliant example.
Mrs. Hoge and Mrs. Livermore,' ladies who devoted
themselves throughout the war to every loyal word and
work, and every good'deed by which the.soldier could be
cheered and sustained, entered upon this enterprise with a
zeal and a largeness of heart and comprehensiveness of
plan which were worthy alike of the magnificent region in
which they operated, and of the heroic army for which they
labored. None of the great fairs was so entirely the offerimg of the gentle hands and pure hearts of patriotic women
as this at Chicago.
Their executive committee covered the whole North-west
from Detroit westward to the cities of Iowa, and northward
to St. Paul. And yet, so little accustomed were the people
576 
MVIIAT SANITARY LABORERS IIAVE ACCOIPLISIIED. 577
to the princely munificence of later months, that they would
have thought their success brilliant if they could have been
certain of realizing twenty-five thousand dollars. Their
returns were far beyond this modest estimate, and they
were enabled, at the termination of their labors, to pay
over to the Sanitary Commission more than three times
twenty-five thousand as the net profits of the Chicago Fair.
Cincinnati was the next of the western cities to follow
in the path that had been blazed out by the vigfor and loyal
enterprise of her sister emporium. Here, too, woman was
the first to suggest, and the most efficient and unwearied in
the labors that ensued.
The first step taken in the originating of the great western Sanitary Fair was the following appeal fromnt the pen of
Mrs. Elizabeth Mendenhall, which appeared in the Cincinnati Times of October 31, 1863, and a day or two afterwards in most of the daily prints of that city:   "Editor Times: I wish to call the attention of the patriotic ladies of Cincinnati to the fair that is now progressing in Chicago for the benefit of the soldiers, and which is
realizing a handsome sum of money.  Taking into consideration the fact that the winter is fast approaching, and that:
the soldiers will stand in need of much assistance, would.
it not be well for our Cincinnati ladies to rouse themselves:
ill the same cause, and in the same way?  We should not
let Chicago, or any other place, be in advance of us in our
efforts. I know we have ladies here who are devoted
friends of the soldiers, and now is the time for them to be
up and doing."
In two weeks from the publication of thie, suggestion,.,a,
37 
VWOMEN OF THE WAR.
public meeting was called, and very largely attended, at
which managers of both sexes were appointed, who proceeded at once to organize, on a scale of greater magnitude,
and to embrace a greater number of interests and classes
in the community, than any charitable enterprise that had
ever been set on foot in America.
If the honor of the original conception of a magnificent
fair belongs to Mrs. HIoge and her co-laborers at Chicago,
Mrs. Mendenhall and her assistants at Cincinnati are entitled to the credit of carrying into execution the true plan
upon which such enterprises should be conducted. They
saw that, in order to obtain a complete success, the- effort
must be general, appealing to all classes;, calling the farmer
from his golden harvest-field to come and bring with him
the first fruits of the earth, as a free-will offering on the
altar of his country, appealing to the artisan to give from
his workshop his most cunning and elaborate handicraft.
The soldier, also, could send from battle-fields that are
now famous in history his trophies and his flags; his relics
and his mementos.  The men of position and genius, who,
by their pens or.tongues, had won national repute, could
advance the cause by furnishing their autographic poems,
or other articles of literary value.  Upon this comprehensive plan the organization' was effected, and rarely has
machinery so complicated been adjusted with greater skill,
or worked in harmony more admirable.  EInlarging thus
amply the original idea of Chicago, the executive committee.of Cincinnati proposed to raise two hundred and fifty
thousand dollars -just ten times the sum proposed at Chicag,o; and the result showed that the liberality of the
578 
WHAT SANITARY LABORERS HAVE ACCOMPLISHED.  579
people, when appealed to in the manner suggested, had not
been over-estimated.   The Cincinnati Fair was in all its
features, and in its returns, a magnificent  success.  Itwas
the true beginining  of those noble enterprises that afterwards astonished Europe, and by whose operation over five
millions of dollars were, in a little more than a twelvemonth, contributed to promote the sanitary condition of the
armies in the field.
The Christiani Commission, as well as its predecessor and
co-laborer, owes its efficiency mainily to the zeal, the patience, and the generosity with which it was sustained by
the loyal ladies of the country.  
Organizedcl in November,  1861, at first as a Christian
enterprise for evangelical labors among the soldiers, its
operations became each year more'and more sanitary in
their character. It was found that to feed the hungry, to
clothe the nlaked, and to'bind up the'wbuunds of battle, were
the surest way of reaching the heart of the soldier for
spiritual suggestions.
The system of special diet kitchens, that in the latter
part of the war was extended so as to reach every corps,
every division, and often every brigade in the whole arnmy,
was especially the product of the organized benevolence of
the Christian Commission.  -Mrs. Anne Wittenmeyer had
this work under her special superintendence,  wvtth MIiss
Mary Shelton and Miss Goodale for assistants.  It proposed to supply to the sickest in each hospital food as
nearly resembling as possible that which his mother and
sisters would have furnished him at home.  It was a gospel
of suitable and delicate food, administered with Christian 
WO.,MEN OF THE WAR.
kindness and "in the name of a disciple," the effect of
which in relieving suffering and saving life is alike beyond
estimation anJ above praise.
In the third year of the war, Ladies' Christian Commissiolns were organized, and went into operation so as speedily
to assume a tangible form and give practical results. In
1865, there were in all two hundred and sixty-six branch
or auxiliary societies inll various parts of the land, mostly
connected with the evangelical churches. There were
eighty in the city of Philadelphia alone, and the aggregate
receipts from all at the end of the war were found to be
considerably over two hundred thousand dollars.
In their closing report, made  January  1, 1866, the
officers express their acknowledgments for the aid furnished
by patriotic women: "They have fed the flame of piety and
patriotism in our homes, through heavy hours, for successive
years, and with busy fingers and devices of love have kept
the hands of our agents and delegates in the field full of
comforts for suffering patriots. To them, under God, the
Commission owes its success. WVe only anticipate the verdlict of the future when we say that thus far in human
history such work is exclusively theirs - a work that could
have been wrought only by praying wives, and mothers, and
sisters, in behalf of an imperilled country."
Thoug,h the amounts in cash furnlished for sanitary purposes came mainly through these great fairs, contributions
firom other sources and in other material did as much, and,
in many cases, more than money for the substantial well
being of the volunteer.
Soldiers' Aid Societies were formed in almost every lar,ge
580 
TIEAT SANITARY LABORERS HAVE ACCOMPLISHED.  581
town throughout the Northern States.  In these, ladies as sembled weekly, and sometimes more frequently; sometimes
at the public rooms of the association, but oftener at private
houses; and made clothing for the soldiers.  These gar ments, together with various articles of food, such as
pickles, dried firuit, jellies, and wine, were securely packed,
and sent to the nearest large city where the Sanitary and
Christian Commissions had depots of supply. No computation has been made, and none can be, of the entire
amount and value of articles thus furnished.
As a specimen we may take the State of Wisconsin, where
there is no metropolitan city, and which held no great sanitary fair. In her final report, Mrs. Joseph S. Colt, of
Milwaukee, corresponding secretary of the WVisconsin Soldiers' Aid Society, a most admirable and praiseworthy home
laborer, says, "We present our last report with devout
thankfulness, not unmixed with a degree of pride in our
state.  We are thankful that the war is over, the republic
saved, human freedom established over the whole land.
We are proud that Wisconsin, without the excitement of a
fair, and remote from the seat of war, has done her part so
well.
"Gifts to the amount of two hundred thousand dollars;
packages numbering six thousand; bureaus whose success
has been unexampled; a society for forwarding supplies; a
bureau for getting state pay for the families of soldiers;
another for securing pensions and arrears; another for obtaining employment for the wives and mothers of volunteers
through government contracts; still another for securing
work for those partially disabled in the war; still another
t 
W~WOMEN OF THE WAR.
for supplying the wants of those who have been  permanently crippled in the service, and thrown upon wives and
mothers for support,- these, and more, have been our
wvork."
The Chicago branch of the Sanitary Commission had one
thousand Aid Societies constantly sending, in money and
material, by which its treasury was kept full, and its shelves
loaded.  Five hundred societies united in supporting the
Clevelanid and the Ciicilnnlati branches.   The memorable
services rendered by Mrs. Iloge and Mrs. Livermore in the
extreme North-west, and by Mrs. Melideinhall and Mrs.
Hioadley at Cincinnati, are elsewhere described.
At Cleveland, also, these magnificent results were almost
wholly the work of women.   Mrs. Rouse, president of the
Cleveland branch, is a lady who unites the charity of the
Christian to the force and judgment of a woman of the
world. A descendant of Oliver Crolhwell, she has proved
herself not unworthy of the heroic blood of those splendid
old Puritans who brought to civil and military affairs a coolness of judgment and an immutability of purpose which
some writers have thought inconsistent with their religious
zeal, but which were, in fact, the necessary effects of it.
For more than forty years she has been at the head of every
philanthropic enterprise ill that city, and her  advanced
years and delicate health did not prevent her frofi acting a
truly noble part in this, the  most magnificent of all modern
charities.
Mrs. Rouse was very effectively sustained by her secretary, Miss M. C. Brayton, a young lady of fine capabilities and acquirements, of easy fortune, and superior busi
582 
VWHIAT SANITARY LABORERS IEAVE ACCOMPLISHED.  583
ness faculties.. She was for..Cleveland what Louisa Lee
Schuyler was for the parent society in New York. Miss
Ellen Terry, the treasurer, with an admirable turn for
affairs, kept the books, and handled the finances of a business that amounted to more.than. a million of dollars, with
skill that would have done credit to the largest of mercantile
houses.
Detroit, also, was a large contributor to the  sanitary
stores.  Here, as at Cleveland, the work was mainly performed by fair hands.  Misx Valeria Campbell and Mrs.
Adams, Mrs. Brent, Mrs. Sabine, and Mrs. Luther B. Willard, were incessant in their exertions throughout the rebellion.  Mirs.- Huzz and her two daughters, Susan and
Ella, devoted much of their. time to the cause.
The case of another  admirable. friend of the soldier in
Detroit, and the circumstances of her death, so sudden and
appalling, are such as to require. special mention.  Miss
Mary Dunn, a young lady of about twenty summers, endowed with every Christian and every female grace, beloved
by all who knew her, while in the act of bearing food to
some sick soldiers at the barracks, where she was a frequent visitor, was killed instantly on the street by a stroke
of lightning.  At the very hour this occurred, her two
brothers were in a distant part of the country, in the midst
of a hard battle with the Southern foe. The soldiers were
so affected by the peculiar death of Miss Dunn, and so
warm in their admiration of her virtues, that they turned
out to a man, and buried her remains with full military
honors.
Aside from her activity in Detroit, which lasted during
I 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
the war, and was wholly gratuitous, Mrs. Willard went to
Chattanooga as a volunteer nurse; but severe and lengthened
illness cut short her service in the field.
At Buffalo the head centre of sanitary charities was Mrs.
Horatio Seymour; and her aids were Miss Grace Bird and
Miss Babcock.   The contributions made  through  these
ladies were very large, a great number of packages haviong
been sent directly to agents at the front. Mrs. Price, who
represented this society at the Naval School Hospital, was
constantly supplied with clothing and comforts of all kinds
for distribution there and at City Point, where she afterwards went.
In concluding her report, Mrs. Seymour illustrates the
spirit in which the contributions from Western New York
were made by the following instances and figures:  We
cannot shut out from our memories the scenes which will
always hallow these rooms to us - the sister, whose brother
had gone out in his country's defence, coming to us one
bleak, cold day, having rode twelve miles in a stage with
her two little children, to ask for shirts to make up for the
soldiers. She was poor, had no money to give, but with
tearful eyes said she must do something for the boys.
"Nor can we forget the old, true-hearted, patriotic farmer, who drove to the door, one of the severest days in
November last, with a load of potatoes, which'wife and I'
had dug, and wished there were ten times as many for the
boys.
We have sent nearly three thousand packages to Louisville, and six hundred and twenty-five to New York. We
have cut and provided materials, at our rooms, for over
584
I
f 
WHAT SANITARY LABORERS HAVE ACCOMPLISHED.  585
twenty thousand shirts and other articles for the army,
amounting in all to more than two hundred thousand pieces.
Little children, mostly girls under twelve years of age, have
given us over twenty-five hundred dollars."
In Philadelphia the three leading societies were the
Soldiers' Aid," represented in the field for a long time by
Mrs. Brady; the "Ladies' Aid," whose secretary was Mrs.
John Harris, and the "Penn Relief Association."  The
operations of the two first named are described in the
memoir of Mrs. Brady, and the account of Mrs. Hiarris's
wonderful activity in behalf of the soldier.
The Penn Relief dispensed clothing and delicacies to the
value of fifty thousand dollars. Most of their packages
were forwarded directly to representatives at the front.
Mrs. Hiusband received a great amount of clothing, of a
superior quality, from the Penn Relief. Mrs. Fales, of
WVashingoton, Mrs. Hetty K. Painter, and Miss Anna Carver,.
all drew largely from the same source.
The Woman's Central Relief Association of New  York,.
throughout the struggle, represented the metropolis of the
*    continent in the breadth of country from which it drew its
supplies, the largeness of its contributions, the admirable
foresight, comprehension, and energy, with which its plans
were laid and its finances handled.   Replenished from time
to time by private contributions, and by the returns of the
great Sanitary Fairs of Brooklyn and New York City, its
treasury was able to report its monthly disbursements by
tens of thousands, and the sum total of its income by
millions.
Of the New  England States, Connecticut and Rhode 
'OMEN OF THE WAR.
Island sent their contributions mostly to New York. The
New England Women's Auxiliary Association of Boston,
acting for Massachusetts and the three states to the northward, represented more than a thousand towns, and
furnished, in cash and various garments and stores, more
than the value of three hundred and fourteen thousand dollars, the Music Hall Fair alone netting about a hundred and
fifty thousand dollars.
Miss Abby W. May, of Dorchester, occupied the chair
of the executive committee in this Association, and did for
Boston what Mrs. Hoge did in Chicago, and Mrs. Seymour
im Buffalo. 
In the final report of that committee, made in July, 1865,
the malnnler in which every class in the community, and all
ages, united in their sympathies for the soldier in the field,
is thus set forth: "Fromn the representatives of the United
States government here, who remitted the duties'upon
soldiers' garments sent to us from Nova Scotia, down to the
little child diligently sewing  with tiny fingers upon the
soldiers' comfort-bag, the cooperation has been almost universal.  Churches of all denominations have exerted their
influence for us; many schools have made special efforts in
our behalf; the directors of railroads, express companies,
telegraphs, and newspapers, gentlemen of the business firms
with which we have dealt, have befriended us most liberally; while private individuals, of all ages, sexes, colors,
and conditions, have aided us in ways that we  cannot
enumerate,  and that no one really knows of but themselves."
During the latter part of the war, the ladies in different
586
0 
WHAT SANITARY LABORERS HAVE ACCOSLPLISHED. 587
points over the land, where several railroads converge,
established Soldiers' Homes and Soldiers' Rests, where the
worn, hungry,  ragg,ed, and  sick  soldier  could pause,
sometimes only a few moments  in changing trains, and
sometimes days or weeks, according to his condition, have
his various wants supplied, and be sent forward to his
destination.
In June, 1865, many of these noble institutions were
distributed over the country, from Boston to New Orleans.
The daily scenes within them, and the manner in which
they afforded aid and comfort to the travelling soldier, can
be understood from the following description of the Home
at Columbus, the capital of Ohio, written by an army officer
in the spring of 1865:  "How few of our citizens have taken the pains to turn
the corner of the Union Depot to give a passing look at the
flourishing Soldiers' Home,  stretching its  white  length
along the pier! The last few days have brought an unusual
number of guests to its door -on Wednesday one hundred
and fifty, and on Thursday one hundred and seventy, more
having, been entertained there.
Eastern hospitals are in process of depletion to make
room for new arrivals from Sherman's army of those who
have fallen by the way in the grand march. Convalescents
they call these weary men, who hobble on crutches about
the door, and crowd every available space within the Home
limits; yet each bears his marks of disease or wound,
either in pale face or feeble gait, in useless arm or crippled
limb. But all differences in individual cases are merged in
the one absorbing interest with which the still closed 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
dining-room door is watched.   Behind  that protecting
barrier all is now bustle and active preparation, and under
the influence of quick fingers the meal is in readiness, soon
enough for the patience even of the hungry crowd waiting
beyond the door. Now the word is given, and in troops
the first instalment of men, very slowly and feebly, - not as
they marched away with Sherman,- for these must be
carefully helped to their places at the bountiful table, with
crutches stowed away in close proximity; this one must
have some kind hand to supply the place of the arm now
hanging useless by his side, and another's morbid appetite
craves some variation from the ordinary fare. The guests'
names must be recorded as accurately as the warfare of
knives and forks will permit, rough government crutches
exchanged for the comfortably-padded ones furnished by the
Sanitary Commission, and many little deficiencies in clothing noted and remedied, while the men do justice to the
fare before them. No wonder the faces brighten under the
combined influence of kind words and good cheer. Did the
maker of these marvellous cookies realize the exquisite relish
with which the appetite of a convalescent regards them?
These vegetables and apple-butter, with which some
thoughtful country Aid Society has furnished the Home
larder, are delicious beyond belief to men so long consigned
to salt beef and hard tack; while the butter and soft bread
receive such special attention, that reenforcements are
speedily required. A low hum of applause and approving
comment runs round the tables; one and another says,
audibly enough to rejoice the attendant ladies,' Well, this
looks like home!' or,'I haven't seen anything like this since
588 
WIIAT SANITARY LABORERS IIAYE ACCO3IPLISHED.  589
I left home!'  MIany pay only the compliments of full
justice to the meal, while here and there one summons up
courage to make a neat little speech of thanks as he rises
from the table. But whether silent or complimentary, the
feeling of all, we believe, is expressed in the words of the
tall, pale sergeant, who, rising with difficulty on his
crutches, says,'Ladies, kind friends! it is worth the little
we have suffered for our country to meet such a warm reception at home.'
N Now the room is finally emptied of its first guests, and
the tables hastily prepared for the second instalment, and
then for a third and fourth.   All honor to the worthy
matron that her larder stands bravely such repeated attacks,
and her coffee-boiler stoutly replies to all drafts made upon
it. WVhat a relief, that the last poor fellow who lingered
near the table has fared as well as the first who rushed
eagerly in to the assault!   The  same programme is repeated on each occasion, with variations in individual cases.
One forever-helpless man is carried in the arms of a brother
soldier, that he, too, may have the pleasure of sitting at the
table with the rest; and he pulls out the fatal bullet which
ruined' him, as he says, to exhibit.  Meanwhile there are
many in the sleeping ward too feeble to care to leave its
comfort, whose taste must be consulted, and to whom food
must be carried. Here one man's wounld. needs'dressing,
another asks for a fresh bandage; here a slipper is wanted
for a swollen foot, and another sickly soldier must have
some strengthening remedy from the medicine-chest.  At
last all are fed, all rested, and all wants attended to; the
-whistle of.the+an — is heard, and the soldiers depart, with 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
strength enough gained to carry them on their journey,
leaving behind them a blessing for the Home. But their
departure brings little rest to the Home corps. The debris
must be removed, and fresh preparations made for the
arrival of the later trains, which may bring as many more
guests, to be entertained again and lodged over night."
On the first day of May, 1861, two weeks after the fall
of Sumter, a large number of Union troops, passing through
the city of Philadelphia on their way to the national capital,
landed at the foot of Washington Avenue, on Delaware
River. While here, awaiting transportation, a number of
ladies, residing in the immediate vicinity, spontaneously
formed themselves into a committee, and with the assist
ance of the neighbors generally, distributed among these
men such quantities of hot coffee as could be prepared.
These ladies, Mrs. Wm. M. Coopse, Mrs. Sarah Ewing,
Mirs. Grace Nickles, Mrs. Catharine and Mrs. Elizabeth
Vansdale, Mrs. Turner, and some others, formed the nucleus
of the Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Committee.
Near by the place where these gallant volunteers received
t      h       e       s       e         first hospitalities  stood      an old cooper  shop. The
l     a      d     i      e      s interested their  husbands in the cause; a  portion of
the                                     shop was partitioned, and so arranged that soldiers
c      o       u       l       d        conveniently partake of coffee and  other refreshments.
From that time till the summer of 1865, for a period of
four years and two months, this saloon was constantly sustained and kept in activity by the patriotic citizens of
Philadelphia and its vicinity. A                       hospital was establ ished
in                                    connection with the saloon, through the untiring, exer
I
1590 
VIIAT SANITARY LABORERS HAVE ACCOMPLISHED.  591
tions of MIiss Anna MNI. Ross - exertions so strenuous as in
the end to consume her vital powers, and add her name to
the long roll of martyrs in the good cause.  The whole
number of soldiers furnished with substantial meals at the
saloon was about three hundred and seventeen thousand.
A dispensary of medicines was connected with the cooper
shop, a bathing-room, and an arrangement for supplying
necessary clothing.
These descriptions of the two, which are taken simply as
specimens, located in Columbus and at Philadelphia respectively, will apply to the Homes at Buffalo, Detroit,
WVashing,ton, Boston, and the various other points where
they were established.
With these facts, the question is natural, IHow were these
unequalled largesses disbursed? and what was the practical
result to the sick, the wounded, or tle destitute soldier, of
systems of relief so varied and so copious?
WVe have' in answer the testimony of one of the ablest of
our commanding officers, that the two most effective ways
in which our armies in the field were sustained in the long
struggle, were, first, by the general assurance that was felt,
that neither the wives, children, parents, nor others dependent on those in the field, would suffer for the necessaries of life, while their supporters were in the service of
the country; second, that the sick and wounded would not
lack for any of those things, which, though not provided by
army regulations, might  conduce  to  comfort, expedite
recovery, save the lives, and sustain the mnorale of the
soldier.
4t
i 
WOMEN OF THE WAR.
Another and more perfect answer may be found in sanitary statistics. Before this war of ours, it was considered
as inevitable that for every soldier killed in battle, four
must die of disease.  In the Crimean war, seven eighths of
the mortality of the British troops during the entire campaign was due to disease, and one eighth only to deaths
from wounds received in action. In January, 1855, the
month of the greatest mortality of that campaign, ninetyseven per cent of the mortality was from disease.  During
our national struggle, two 1hundred and eighty thousand four
hundred and twenty men — good, true, and loyal - sealed
their patriotism by death in the service. Of these over
sixty thousand died in battle, while thzrty-five thousand
survived the day of the conflict to die of their wounds, and
one h~undred and eighty-four thousand three hundred and
thirty-one died of disease.   Thus  two persons died of
disease for every one that fell by the enemy's weapons.
WTith ordinary sanitary and medical appliances, such as
Napoleon had in his armies, and such as the English had
in the Crimea, our deaths by disease would have reached
the fearful aggregate of more than three hundred and s8iXtyeight thousand.   Thus it appears that the result of all
these labors and sacrifices by our loyal women,  of the
abundant returns from our sanitary fairs, and of the constant, loviong, unremitting care for the brave champions of
the Union, has been a saving of more than a hundred and
eighty-four thousand lives, that would otherwise have been
victims of the malaria of southern climates, the exposures
of the camp, the transport ship, and the bivouac, the infection of hospitals, the depression consequent upon being
592
-4 
CONCLUSION.
forgotten and neglected among strangers, homesickness,
and the slow corrosion of constant anxiety for the loved
ones left behind, and all the other horrors and hardships of
terrible war.
In conclusion, the author of this volume of sketches feels
it due to himself to allude to the great difficulty he has
experienced in obtaining his materials.
It was only by overcoming extreme reluctance to anything like publicity on the part of many, by a voluminous
correspondence, and by numerous personal interviews, that
he has collected the facts of which the foregoing pages are
a recital. Now, however, as the compilation has reached
the limits to which he is circumscribed, he finds his table
loaded with a surplus of material so large, interesting, and
valuable, that he cannot claim that this volume, as the
record of female heroism and self-sacrifice, is either complete or exhaustive.
Those who, in person or by their friends, responded
with promptness, and furnished abundant material, may
seem to have a mention too prominent. This, however, is
entirely the result of circumstances, and was not done with
the view of making invidious distinctions.
Among those who labored long and faithfully ill the army
of the Potomac, Miss Bradford and Miss Gilson, of Massachusetts, were, perhaps, not equalled by those whose record
is fully given. The story of the army life, and of the death
of Mrs. General Barlow, is full of interest and romance.
38
593 
WOMIEN OF THIE VAR..
The workl of Clara Barton is known from Maine to Missouri.  The close of the war has not terminated her inldustry nor furnished anll opportunity to complete her admirable
record.
In the hospitals of Georgia and Tennessee, Mrs. Cameron,
formerly of Chattanooga, now of Philadelphia, acted a noi)le part, and has endeared her name to thousands of destitute and suffering refugees.
Miss Hancock, of New Jersey, Miss Bissell, Miss Lucy
Chase, Mrs. Painter and  IMrs. Carver,  and Miss Mary
Duncan, of the fifth corps, are gratefully remembered by
hundreds who bled in the great battles of the final campaign.
Among hospital visitors iln Wrashington, none was earlier
in the service, or labored with zeal more unwearied, than
Mrs. Almira Fales; none displayed a finler union of the
graces of womanhood than Mrs. Pomeroy.  When bowed
with crushing, sorrow over the loss of his favorite boy, it
was from the lips of this Christian lady that our late martyred president received words of the truest consolation
and the suggestions of celestial hope.,
Mrs. Harlan, wife of the Honl. James IHarlan, United
States senator from Iowa, and more recently Secretary of
the Interior, is another shining instance  illustrating the
value of woman's work during the great conflict.  She was
with the army at Pittsburg Landing, and hundreds of men
are alive to-day, who, but for her ministeriig visits to the
field of Shiloh, for her energy, or for her  "outranlking
Ilalleck," might have been rudely buried on that bloody
field. She at first devoted her energies to caring for the
volunteers from her own state, but afterwards gave her
5;I) 4
I 
CONCLUSION.
time and labor to the general cause, for the good of which
she braved the storms of ocean, many journeys to the army,
but lived to see her efbforts crowned with splendid success,
and her name blessed in nearly every city, town, and hamnlet
in the land.
Though a number of charming hospital scenes and stories
are related in the present volume by some of the large dep  utation from Maine, there are others whose record is as rich
in incidents and as valuable for the display of fine character
as any already given.  Mrs. Preble and Mrs. Sampson did
a noble work, for which thousands in the army of the Po tomac will never forget them.
Some there were who went out from homes the most lux urious, and gave themselves to lives of loyal sacrifice, in
the spirit of Him who said, "Whosoever is chief amnong
you, let him become your servant."
The spirit that prompts self-forgetfillness-  and is, for
that reason, the more  admirable -  suggests, also, entire
reticence as to the details of benefactions. It is on this
account that so little will be found here as to the army
experience of the Misses Woolsey, of New York city, and
their relative, Mliss Green, of Norwich.
Nor has the subject of the good done and the heroism
displayed at the Naval School Hospital been exhausted by
what has been written of Miss Hall and some of her
assistants.   The administration of Mrs. Tyler at Annapolis was eminently successful, and her career highly interesting. So, also, Miss Noye, of Buffalo, and Miss Howe,
of Brookfield, Massachusetts, with many  others,  whose
period of service there was shorter, will never be forgotten
595 
WOSAIEN OF THIE WAR.
by hundreds of the skeleton victims of southemrn barbarism,
vho here learned to forget the horrors of their long imprisonment amid the kindly graces and synmpathetic attentions
of Christian ladies.
The Charter Oak.
596
,,