■■-v^.,^
iZ-, ^w.^f.m'^^-c.
Our Army Nurses.
INTERESTING SKETCHES,
ADDRESSES,
AND PHOTOGRAPHS
Of nearly One Hundred of the Noble W^omen
who Served in Hospitals and on
Battlefields during
OUR CIVIL WAR.
COMPILED
By MARY A. GARDNER HOLLAND.
SOLD BY SUBSCRIPTION ONLY.
1895.
B. WILKINS & CO., Publishers,
93 Federal Street, Boston,
Massachusetts.
iiyis
COFVKI'iHT, lH'Xi,
B. WILKIXS & CO.,
Boston, ]\rAss.
^
-0-
PREFACE.
Orators find sources of eloquence in considering the part
which woman phxjed in our Civil War. Their strongest
praise cannot reach too high. We all know full well
what a background of encouragement, sympathy, and
actual aid the women of the North furnished ; they held
back their deepest wishes lest they should be considered
selfish, cheered long weary hours Avith patriotic songs, and
organized through villages and towns to carry on the work
of the Sanitary Commission.
But there were other women who went forth on the peril-
ous path of real service in the wnv. They were sunshine
iit the edge of battlefields, voices of solace in hospital suffer-
ings. In ways beyond tlie power of the chaplains they
served the dying, receiving last messages and brightening
the last hours of many a boy in blue.
The privations and dangers which these nol)le characters
endured called for a fortitude equal in man}- respects to the
valor of the soldier. The army nurse was obliged to respond
to duty at all times and in all emergencies. She could not
measure her time, sleep, or strength. She was under orders
to serve to the fullest.
What remarkable experiences fell to the lot of these
women are somewhat revealed in the following pages. I
am gratified to see this collection of narratives, all aglow
with tlie vivid light of our great war. Such descriptions
ought to be of intense interest to the young ; there surely
5
6 PREFACE.
is, flashing from their pages, incitement to self-sacrifice and
heroism for other pliases of life ; while gratitude spontane-
ously wreatlies her garland for these devoted women. Not
alone to the soldier of the Union does this book appeal.
Wherever men and women are thankful for a Republic
saved to a glorious future, there these stories told by
army nurses will be welcome. Wherever a student of
history desires to know the full explanation of the
enthusiasm with which the Northern armies fought their
great battles, in this book he will find something of an
answer. What these women did on the field of carnage
and amidst terrible conditions, discloses the spirit pervad-
ing the people of the North. They were willing to dare
everything for the sake of union and liberty.
The following pages will also prove fragrant with the
blossoms of compassion. If Christian civilization must
have its wars, greatly for defense, it is something to be
able to record the tender ministrations which alleviate
many horrors. The army nurses were ministers of light
and love, passing and repassing over the dark scenes of
these stormy years. This book, wliich has been compiled
by Miss Holland, herself an army nurse, is like a gath-
ered sheaf of precious harvesting. Let us remember that
there were many women unknown and unfamed who did
faithful service. Yet their glory is a part with these whose
names we read with pride in this volume. No one can
peruse this suggestive, inspiring work without rising at
the end with deep admiration, quickened patriotism, and
a stronger faith in human kind.
Rev. Ei)WAi;i) A. Hokton.
Boston, Mass.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Miss Mary A. Gardner Holland, Frontispiece.
PAGE.
DuNKER Church 10
Bombardment of Fort Sumter
14
National Monument, Gettysburg, Pen
N.
27
Mrs. Dorothea Lynde Dix
28
Mary A. Livermore
36
Scene in Richmond after Battle of ]
^AIR (
Daks
40
Clara Barton ....
42
Mrs. Fowle
66
Mary Prinole
80
Dr. Nancy M. Hill .
82
Mary A. Loomis .
86
Mrs. E31MA L. Simonds
88
Margaret Hayes
90
Elizabeth B. Nichols
94
M. Alice Frush
100
Mrs. Pamelia Reid
104
Julia S. Tompkins
106
Belle Coddington
110
Ruth Helena .Sinnotte
124
Elizabeth S. Ward
132
Lucy F. Barron
134
Rena L. Miner
138
Field Hospital, Savage St
\TION
142
Vesta M. W. Swarts
144
FALLEN Marsh
148
Clara B. Hoyt
154
Margaret INIackey
156
Emily M. Cone
158
MoDENiA R. Weston
162
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Maria W. Aubey
166
Mrs. Wm. N. Si'Rague
170
Lucy L. C. Kaiser
174
Elizabeth J. Dudley .
188
Susan M. Babcock
190
Elizabeth P. Hunt
192
Mr. S. C. Wright, with Sketch of I
^^URSE
Moir
19C)
Hannah C. Sheppard
204
Estelle S. Johnson
206
Mrs. Emily E. Woodley
214
Mrs. Mary J. Watson
216
Jannette Maxwell Morrill
220
Mrs. Elizabeth E. Ellis .
224
Mrs. E. F. Cope
226
Martha A. Baker
228
Mrs. Emma F. Sackett
232
Sarah K. Clark
236
Jane E. Dunbar
238
Mary A. Stinebough-Bradford
242
Miss Mary Venard . . .
254
Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson
258
Hanna L. Palmer
260
Mary M. Briggs . . . .
270
Lauraetta C. Balch .
274
Mary A. Ellis ....
276
Louisa E. Kamp
•.
280
Amanda M. Felch
282
Mary E. Moore
29 2
Lois H. Dunbar
294
Rebecca Wiswell
298
Mrs. Daniel Schkam
304
Nancy M. Gross
308
Susan Cox ....
312
Miss Elizabeth Wheeler
314
Mary Perkins ....
322
Martha F. Jennison
326
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Mrs. M. J. Bunch Ki!
Margaret Hamilton .
Margaret A. Weed
Mrs. Elizabeth Lucas
Mrs. Mary Y. Knowles
Betsey A. Cook
Eunice M. Brown, nee Fairbank
Mrs. Elvira Mason
Jane M. Worrall
Fannie A. Harper
Elizabeth O. Gibson
Matilda E. Morris
Mrs. Cecilia White .
Mrs. L. H. Husington
Adeliza Perry
Mary E. Darling
Mrs. Hannah E. Starbird
Mrs. M. J. Boston
Mrs. Rebecca R. Pomkoy .
Sophronia E. Brecklin
Elizabeth A. Hyatt
Kate M. Duncan
Adelaide E. Spurgeon
Mrs. Fannie H. Titus-Hazen
Mrs. Delia B. Fay
Sumner's Advance at Antietem
M. V. Harkin .
Mrs. J. T. Richards
Mary E. Bell .
Mrs. Helen E.. Smith
'' Mother" Ransom
"Mother" Bickerdyke
Helen Gilson
Appomatox Court House, \'a.
Lee's Shattered Army
TAGE.
330
33G
344
350
354
356
360
372
376
382
386
390
402
406
412
41.S
422
424
432
442
446
452
454
466
476
482
486
4;m;
500
504
510
516
534
545
546
10
OUR ARMY NURSES.
INTRODUCTION.
To no class of people are the soldiers of the late war more
indebted than to the Army Nurses. How the eyes of the old
veteran fill with tears when, at our camp fires, some old lady
is introduced, and the presiding officer says, " Boys, she
was an army nurse." For a moment the distinguished officers
present are forgotten, and they gather around the dear old
lady, eager to grasp her hand and say some kind and loving
word in appreciation of her services. I have often witnessed
such a greeting at the annual reunion of New Hampshire
veterans at the Weirs, when Aunt Harriet Dame has been
presented.
The work of the army nurse began as soon as Sumter was.
fired upon. Within thirty days after the call for 75,000
men, made by President Lincoln, April 14, 1861, the Woman's
Central Association, of New York, had chosen, from hundreds
of candidates, one hundred competent women to be trained
by the physicians and surgeons of New York as nurses in the
army hospitals.
June 10, 1861, Miss Dorothea Dix was appointed, by the
Secretary of War, Superintendent of female nurses. She
gave herself up, without compensation, to the selection of
competent nurses. Secretary Stanton vested her Avith full
power to appoint army nurses in the hospitals, and she cheer-
fullv gave her labor and her fortune to the cause. Nurses
selected by her, and others, who followed the several regi-
ments to the front, were found on every battlelield from Bull
n
12 INTRODUCTION.
Run to Appomattox. They were in every hospital, minister-
ing to the sick, wounded, and dying of the Union Army.
An incident of their devotion and angelic loveliness came
under my personal observation. At the battle of Antietam
my brother fell, mortally wounded. For two days I was
unable to obtain any trace of him, as, by change of front,
the rebels held the j^ortion of the field where he lay. As
soon as they retreated I found him near an old haystack in a
barnyard at the right of Dunker Church. I saw at once
that he could live only a few days, and was anxious to get
him where he could have medical attendance, and, calling an
•ambulance, had him taken to a field hospital near Sharps-
burg. As I was kneeling by his side, taking his last message
to our dear mother, a voice said, "Is this your brother?"
and looking up I saw the sweet face of a woman, and by
her side a sergeant of the Philadelphia Fire Zouaves. That
woman was Mrs. Mary Lee, of Philadelphia. She had
given her only son to his country, and had followed him
to the field. I explained to her how my brother and I had
enlisted together, and that, being in command of the com-
pany, and under orders to march at once, I could not stay
vs^ith him. She said, " I will take his mother's place," and
•she nursed him until he died; then saw him buried, his
grave marked, and in a few days wrote me all the sad
circumstances.
When the war was over I met Mrs. Lee in Philadelphia.
She followed the old Second Division, Second Corps, to the
end. She wore on her breast a gold Corps badge, presented
by the boys of the 72d Pennsylvania. God spared her son,
and I have visited the family in their happy home. A few
years ago Mrs. Lee passed to a higher life, mourned liy all
the men in the old Corps, who loved her as a mother.
It Avould be invidious to mention by name Avhere so
INTRODUCTION. 13
many served. Miss Clara Barton served from first to
last ; " Mother " Bickerdyke, who was called by General
Sherman, one of his best generals ; Mrs. Mary A. Liver-
more, who served in the Army of the West; Miss Gilson,
who was attached to the transfer service in the Chicka-
liominy campaign and with the Army of the Potomac in
the Wilderness; and a host of others, all sacrificing and
suffering as much as any soldier in the ranks. The pay
of those regularly mustered in the service was twelve dollars,
per month; but hundreds never waited to be mustered in,,
only desiring to serve where duty called, without pay or
hope of reward.
Many died of exposure and disease contracted in the ser-
vice. Many returned with health impaired ; and some, be it
said with shame and sorrow, died in poverty. Until within
a few years no official recognition has ever been given them
by the Government which they served so well. Some three
years since a pension bill was passed, giving them twelve
dollars a month, ])ut the record of their service is so imperfect
that it is almost impossible to prove a claim, and a large
proportion go to their graves unrecognized and unrewarded;
yet while their names are written on no army roll, and but
few books have been published telling the story of their
services, their memory will ever live in the hearts of the
veterans they nursed with such tender care, and they will
never grow weary of telling to their children and children's
children the story of the loving, tender, and Christian minis-
trations of those "-angels of mercy."
John G. B. Adams,
Fast National Commander G. A. li.
14
OUR ARMY NURSES.
TO THE READER
^AVIXG conceived the plan of the army nurses
^ writing an abbreviated sketch of their war
* record to put in book form, I undertook the
^-^ arduous work of securing the addresses of all
I could locate, and have received letters and photo-
graphs of more than can be contained in this book.
I trust that the outcome of the work may be an open-
ing of the way of communication between nurse and
patient, a desire on the part of many, covering the
period of intervening years since the war.
Many a veteran will here be able to look into the
face of his faithful nurse who stood by him in those
terrible days of suffering. Friends who have sur-
vived the soldier who has passed the last roll-call,
must look with equal interest upon the faces of those
who by force of circumstances took their places to
watch and Avait, to cheer and comfort the loved hus-
band, father, son, or brother who responded to our
country's call.
With some it was hard to decide the question,
" Shall I leave my home and dear ones, mayhap never
to return?" But while the decision lay trembling in
the balance, the bugle call sounded, and the martial
tread Avas heard, — tramp ! tram}) ! tramp ! Our boys,
imiformed in blue, are coming over the mountains,
from the river-side, and through the valleys. ^o^Y
the thunder of the engine is heard in the distance.
16 OUR ARMY NURSES.
It comes nearer, and yet nearer, until the eye of the
locomotive rests npon the multitude gathered upon
the phitform. Grief is too great to allow confusion
or bustle. The little groups apart exchange the part-
ing words. The hour has come. The inevitable
farewell must now be given, — and the last hand-
clasj). The shrill whistle warns a hurried good-bye,
and "God bless you!" echoes and re-echoes as the
iron steed bears our boys aw^ay.
Oh, how many of them, on those fateful days, had
in reality given the last "farewell"! Sorrowfully the
weeping wife led her little ones back to the desolate
hearthstone, to gather them in a fond embrace and
tell them of their soldier father, — how he had gone to
strike back the rebel arm that would trail our Stars and
Stripes in the dust, and dishonor its glorious record.
And the old mother, bending a little with age, with
trembling hand lifts the latch that last closed when
her son went out to return no more, ^o ^*en can
depict the sorrows that shadowed the lonely homes
our soldiers left during those foiu- years of blood-
shed,— four years of anxiety and watching for news
of the next battle and its results ; four years of suffer-
ing on the part of our soldiers, tenting in swamps,
mai'ching through the mud of Southern soil, on,
double-fpiick, to the scene of carnage! The tierce
contest has begun, — and they bare their defenseless
bodies to the shot and shell of our Southern bi'others,
whose big guns sweep furrows through our ranks.
The gaps are immediately closed, our boys falling
dead- or disabled.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 17
What more fitting place for women with holy
motives and tenderest sympathy, than on those fields
of blood and death, or in retreats prepared for onr
suffering heroes? QYe are glad even at this late
date to record upon these pages, the names of as
many nurses as we have been enabled to gather. ]S"o
lapse of years can cool the patriotism that urged them
to the responsibilities they took npon themselves, and
the same spirit breathes in every line of contribu-
tion to this book, that actuated their deeds during the
dark days of the Civil AVar:jdays that tried men's
souls, while women wept in grief and sympathy. All
risked life, — thousands met death while the strugfo-le
went on that preserved for ns the sheltei'ing folds of
our flag, that " grand emblem of protection to home
and native land." It seems to me that had I died
battling for my countr}' 's honor, that my right hand
would almost leap from its entombed dust to
strike back the arm that would dare drag our flao;-
from its high standard of glory, — the grandest em-
blem of the grandest country that lies under God's
sunshine ! Let no foe dare molest that flag, and thus
insult our country. Such would be compelled to retreat
to their own corners in dismay, for the spirit of the old
Revolution days burned in the hearts of om' country-
men dnring the Civil War, and is transmitted to the
rising generation. Our boys and girls are taught in
many of the schools to salute the flag, and SAvear
allegiance to "one country, one flag, one language."
Though my place is small in comparison to that
of many heroic women of the war, I feel the assur-
18 OUR ARMY NURSES.
ance that the Recording Angel has borne my
name to Him who has said, "As ye have done it
nnto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have
done it unto me." And when the key unlocks to us
the mysteries of life, and opens the unknown future,
may it be said of all army nurses, " They did what
they could," and " Well done, good and faithful ser-
vant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."
My service in hos])itals covered a period of nearly
fourteen months. The, first gun fired on Sumter
iired every drop of my blood. Had it been possible
I should have made my appearance at the first battle
of Bull Run. I had an aged mother, who depended
almost altogether upon me for her support, and that
duty deterred me. At one time I said to her, " It
seems to me that I must go to the war." I worked
for her and for m3\self during the day, and on Sani-
tary Conunission work evenings. I told her there
were married women, with families of half-grown
girls, who could not go to the front, but could do all
I was doing. She had long known my desire to be
identified with some more important work, so after
considering calmly for a few moments she answered,
" Well, my daughter, if you can go under govern-
ment protection, your mother is willing." " But," I
answered, " you cannot spare me." She continued
the same reflective attitude and repeated what she
had just said, adding: "God will take care of your
mother. If you ever go, do all you can, and tell the
dying boys of God and heaven."
From that day I left no method untried to go
OUR ARMY NURSES. 19
under government protection ; but not until early in
the spring of 1864 did I accomplish my desire. I
had tried to enlist under Miss Abbie May, of Boston.
At one time it seemed that my plans were well nigh
completed to go to Fortress Monroe, where Mrs.
Lander was trying to establish a hospital. She
failed in her enterprise, and I was doomed to further
delay. Later, I procured one of Miss Dix's circulars,
and read it again and again. It appeared to me a
queer demand. It read like this : " ^NTo woman under
thirty years need apply to serve in government hos-
pitals. All nurses are required to be very plain-
looking women. Their dresses must be brown or
black, with no bows, no curls, or jewelry, and no
hoop-skirts."
It was fashionable at that time to wear immense
hoops. I had worn one for some time, and really
felt it a sacrifice to leave it off. Other requirements
were agreeable, but I felt I could not walk without
a hoop. I said, " Well, if I can't w^alk without it, I
will crawl; for I must go, and I will do the best I
can." Soon after this I took up a morning paper
and read that the wounded were being brought into
Washington so fast that more help was needed at
-once. I wrote immediately to Miss Dix, saying: ''I
am in possession of one of your circulars, and will
comply with all your requirements. I am plain-
looking enough to suit you, and old enough. I
have no near relatives in the war, no lover there.
I never had a husband, and am not looking for one.
Will you take me?" In a few days her answer
20 OUR ARMY NURSES.
came : " Report at once at my house, corner of 14th
Street and New York Avenue, Washington."
She labeled me so nicely that had I been a box of
glass I think I should have gone safely, and gave me.
instructions to procure transportations at Nos. 12
and 13 Temple Place, Boston.
She first quartered me at Columbia College Hospi-
tal, Meridian Heights, Washington . From there I went
to the Seminary Hospital, West Washington — all offi-
cers. Then to Annapolis. I served mostly in charge
of linen rooms, and as matron ; doing the principal part
of real nursing evenings, and sometimes all night
after having attended to the duties assigned me
during the day.
My work was very hai'd, as I did not feel satisfied
to fill the places given me and not attend to the
wounded men.
I would like to mention a case in the Officers' Hos-
pital at Georgetown, D. C. One evening there were
nine wounded officers brought in, and consigned to
the convalescent ward, Rebecca Wiswall, of Ply-
mouth, Mass., nurse in charge. This ward was on
the same floor where I was acting as matron. I as-
sisted the male attendants in giving the wounded
officers their supper. The doctors and Miss Wis-
wall attended to dressing their wounds. One of the
number, a young man about twenty-three years of
age, was laid on a bed across the hall from my room,
and nearly opposite. Lieutenant Lee had died on
that cot in the morning. It was a distressing death;
he was two days dying. His poor mother was with
OUR ARMY NURSES. 21
him, and the scene was terrible. The young man
phiced on the cot that evening was only sHghtly
wounded. A spent ball had entered the left forearm
and lodged, but had been removed by the surgeon
before bringing him to the hospital. As soon as all
were located, a dispatch was sent to his father in
Pennsylvania, saying, "In Officers' Hospital, George-
town, slightly wounded." The return had come be-
fore I left the room, "Shall we come to you?"
When all had received attention. Aunt Becky, as she
was familiarly called, stepped to my side, and as we
stood in the doorway, looking over the ward, I
asked her how many of the last arrivals she thought
would pull through. Pointing to one poor fellow she
said, " He may not live until morning," then spoke of
two other doubtful cases. I said, "I think that young
man behind the door will die." "Oh, no," was her
reply ; " he is the most slightly wounded of any."
In the morning I went to his bedside, and said,
" How did you get on during the night? " "Oh, very
well." His voice was sweet as a woman's; his face
was beautiful. Large drops of sweat stood out all
over his high, white forehead. I could see a change
in him from the evening before. I wiped away the
perspiration, and fanned him for a few minutes.
When I left him he said, "Must you go?" "To
breakfast," I replied. " I will come in again soon."
All the nm-ses had preceded me to the table, and
Aunt Becky said: "Miss Holland, your premonitions
a])out that young man were correct. He must die."
I asked what the shiver meant that passed over him
22 OUR ARMY NURSES.
SO frequently. " The lockjaw. We were with him
half the night after you left, but can do nothing to
save him." Very soon I took my place by his cot,
and left it only for a few moments at a time to attend
to the direction of other duties, as I was then acting
matron. His spasms were frequent and severe all
the forenoon. Just before noon he came out of one^
and asked, "Is my case a critical one?" "My dear
boy, I fear it is," I said. He went into another, and
when he came out of it said, " If anything haj^pens to
me send my body home." A moment after he said,
"Mother!" loud and clear; then his teeth came to-
gether with a crash, and he passed away in that
struggle, at just twelve o'clock noon.
I had retired to my room that evening. It was
about half past ten Avhen I heard a great wail of
grief in the steward's office. Those sounds were
frequent, yet every time they touched a tender chord
of pity in my heart, and I said aloud, though alone,
" Some poor soul has come and found that the dear
one is gone." Presently there was a knock at my
door. I inquired, and the answer was from the
steward's orderly, "Mr. Pollock has come, and the
steward wants you in the office."
The poor old father was in a reclining position,
with both hands pressed against his face. I stood in
the middle of the floor waiting, as I had not the
heart to approach such intense grief. "When the
steward said, " Mr. Pollock, here is the woman who
gave your son his last supper," he lifted his face to
mine, then fell pi'one upon the floor. He wound my
OUR ARMY NURSES. 23
skirts about his face, not knowing what he did. At
length he became a httle calmer, and told us that
Chester was his only boy. He had graduated from
coUeo-e, and had just entered upon what he had de-
termined a life work as a lawyer, when his country
called him to her defense, in which he had given his
life. Over and over I told the old father the story of
his coming into the hospital the evening before, and
of his suffering through the forenoon of that day.
He wanted me to go home with him, that the invalid
wife and mother might look upon the woman who
gave their boy his last supper. He offered every in-
ducement in money and presents, but I could not be
spared. I think the boy's first name was Chester; I
am not sure. His last name was Pollock, his com-
mission a lieutenant.
For a few days I was quartered at the Lincoln
Barracks Hospital, East Capitol Street, D. C. I had
a nephew there, William K. Nason, from Maine. He
was badly wounded. Miss Dix had sent me there
for a week, to do anything that I saw needed to be
done. My nephew had his father with him, so I was
not required to do much for him. I looked up and
down the ward, to ascertain where I might be most
needed. ^N'ear the far end I saw a pale face half
covered with flies. I went to the cot, and found the
poor fellow had suffered twenty days with a fractured
ankle bone, then had an amputation between the
knee and the ankle. The surgeon, for some reason
better known to himself than to any one else, had left
the stump open; had not drawn the flesh over the end
24 OUR ARMY NURSES.
of the bone, as is usual in amputations, but was to
bandage it close, and more closely until healed.
After suppuration had commenced the artery sluffed
off, and the night before I found him he had 1)1 ed
fearfully after lights had been turned down. The
watchman was passing the foot of the bed, and
slij^ped on the blood; he then called the surgeon,
who put a compress on the leg above the knee,
burned the end of the artery, and sto})ped the flow.
I had been by the cot but a few minutes, when the
surgeon and orderly came in again. The surgeon
threw back the sheet in a careless way, almost
roughly, and picked at the end of the arter}^ The
blood spurted, and he made another turn on the com-
press, saying, "We must hunt for that artery again."
The poor boy said in a whisper, the first I had heard
him speak, "Can't you wait till morning?" It was
morning then; you can miderstand how weak he
was. They gave him a glass of brandy and went at
the wound. I thought from the quantities of blood
that followed the almost inhuman treatment, that his
life w^ould go out ere the trial ended. But he lived
through it, and I stayed by him four days. Every
morning I took him a quart of delicious blackberries.
He ate those, but took no other food. The morning
of the fifth day I said : " I must go away this noon,
and cannot come to you again. Have you mother,
wife, or sister to send for? I fear you are too weak
to rally." "^o one w4io could come," he replied.
" Give me your address." I wrote it, and he said,
" ^ow put it into the book under my pillow." It Avas
OUR ARMY NURSES.
25
■a Testament, and my address was deposited therein.
I bade him good-bye, and spoke a httle of the
heavenly land, then left him. In about two months
I received a letter, saying the only excuse he had for
writing to me was that he had not strength to thank
me when I left him, and he believed the blackbei-ries
I gave him had saved his life. That day he had been
on crutches beside his cot for the first time, and but
for a minute ; hoped he should soon be transferred to
his own State. I have forgotten where he lived, but
if this should ever meet the eye of John Tucker, I
hope to hear from him.
I could add many thrilling incidents to this brief
journal, but forbear, that I may give space for the
lai-ge number of contributions to this book, many of
them having barely place for their j^resent address.
Mary A. Gardxek Holland.
26 OUR ARMY NURSES.
BURIED WITH THE FLAG.
An army nurse, returning home from her work among the woundecT
to die, requested that she might be buried with the old flag wrapped
around her. — '•'■Woman's Work in the Civil War," page ^^^.
Home she went exhausted, dying,
With her soldier- husband lying
At her side with battle scars.
And she said : "When death has found me,
Soothed me into rest and crowned me,
Wrap the flag I love around me,
With the glorious Stripes and Stars."
With the Stars and Stripes wrapped round her
She was speaking truth profounder
Than the bugle ever brayed ;
While the patriot women render
To the Flag a love so tender,
Not a stripe shall lose its splendor.
Not one star shall ever fade.
And the earth that closed upon her
Seemed to rise up with new honor
And draw nearer unto God ;
While all hearts were rent asunder
With a thrill of awe and wonder
As the Stars and Stripes went under
The very ground they trod.
Oh ! the sweet and tender story
Of these patriot souls sheds glory
On the Flag forever more.
We shall love the cause they wrought for,
We shall seek the end they sought for,
We shall guard the flag they fought for.
And in living, dying, bore.
— Rev. Alfred J. Hough, Bradford, Vt.
OUR ARMY NURSES.
27
NATIONAL MONUMENT, GETTYSBURG, PENN.
28
OUR ARMY NURSES.
DOROTHEA LYNDE DIX.
•ffn flDemori^ of Dorotbea X\>nbc S^iy.
/^ X the 17th of July, 1887, occurred the death of
I I Dorothea Lynde Dix ; a woman whose memory
^^ will be kept green until acts of humanity be-
come so common that they are passed by without
comment.
She was born in 1802, and her early life was bleak,
humiliating, and painful. Her father not being able
to take care of her she soon left his roof, and found
an abiding place, but scarcely a home, with her grand-
mother in Boston.
She possessed exceptional energy and ambition,
and early determined to fit herself for a teacher.
While one side of her character seemed that of an
earnest, unenthusiastic worker, the other was excep-
tionally sensitive, and full of beautiful ideals. She
reveled in poetry, and worshiped intellectual great-
ness; but she was above a selfish absorption in these,
for poverty and ignorance appealed to her strongly,
and she early began to work for poor and neglected
children.
For these she opened a school in the barn of her
grandmother's house, which was the beginning of
the beneficent work afterward carried on at Warren-
Street Chapel, now the Barnard Memorial, on War-
renton Street.
30 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Miss Dix also had a small day school, which after-
wards developed into a large combined boarding and
day school. While she had charge of this school,
which required the most assiduous labor and execu-
tive ability, she was writing a book that became a
familiar friend to many families a generation ago.
It was called the "Science of Common Things,"
and in a comprehensive, easy manner gave a great
deal of valuable information about the ordinary
things used in the household. It had a place in
almost every home, and was a standard reference.
One could find in it infoi-mation about everything,
from a needle to a nutmeg; and in any perplexity
" Common Things " was consulted as an oracle.
This little book passed through sixty editions.
Other later books were " Garland of Flora," " Pri-
vate Hours," " Alice and Ruth," " Prisons and
Prison Discipline."
At last, on account of poor health, the school was
relinquished, and she became a governess in the
family of Dr. W. E. Channing. It was while a
member of his family that she went to the island of
St. Croix, and obtained her first glimpse of the evils
of slavery.
After her return to Boston, being in better health,
she again took up school work, which was pursued
with zeal until 1836, when she broke down utterly,
and, accompanied by friends, went abroad for rest
and change. She had saved enough money to afford
her a modest income suited to her wants.
It was not until 1811 that Miss Dix was brought
OL'R AR3TV NCrRSES. 31
face to face witli the horrible condition of thing-s
that existed in the prisons and ahnshouses of
Massachnsetts.
She visited the jail of East Cambridge, and found
a terrible overcrowding of innocent, guilty and insane
prisoners. She then visited all the other prisons of
the State, finding such a horrible condition of affairs
that she addressed a memorial to the Legislature on
the subject, giving a graphic description of the
abuses suffered by the insane poor.
Her enthusiasm on the subject enlisted the atten-
tion of Dr. S. G. Howe, Charles Sumner, and others.
Public opinion was aroused by the horrors unveiled
by Miss Dix ; politicians were overwhelmed, a bill for
relief immediately carried, and an order passed to
provide State accommodations for two hundred insane
people.
Thus her first step was taken. Then the convic-
tion came to her that all over the United States the
same appalling story was true of the wretched fate of
the pauper insane. She felt that she must visit State
after State, collect facts, besiege Legislatures, and
arouse public o^^inion. It was a stupendous work,
but this frail woman, with a grasp of intellect worthy
of a statesman, accomplished it.
Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and I^ew Jersey all
show her work to-day. Pennsylvania followed. She
made long journeys ^orth and South, East and West,
always canying hope for the unfortunate. In nine
years she had carried for reforms the Legislatures of
Indianna, Illinois, Kentucky, Tennesee, Missouri, Mis-
32 OUR ARMY NURSES.
sissippi, Louisiana, Alabama, South and ^orth Caro-
lina and Maryland, besides establishing an asylum at
Halifax, N. S., and St. John, :N'. B.
For several sessions she petitioned Congress to
grant a large tract of land for the benefit of the
insane, but after years of work upon the subject the
bill was vetoed by President Pierce. After this dis-
appointment Miss Dix again visited Europe, and on
her return became interested in the work of saving
shij^wrecked mariners on Sable Island, which had
long been called the Graveyard of Seamen.
While Miss Dix was visiting the place a wreck
occurred, and she saw how inadequate to save life
Avere the means at hand.
Through the co-operation of several citizens of
Boston, Miss Dix sent life-boats and other life-saving
paraphernalia to Sable Island. The day after these
arrived a large ship was wrecked on the island, and
by means of this apparatus one hundred and eighty
souls were saved.
In 1854-55 she investigated, not without opposi-
tion, the condition of insane hospitals in Scotland,
and found in them a repetition of what she had seen
here. She at once began moving the great and cum-
brous engine of English law to reform these abuses,
but it was not until 1857, after years of labor and
opposition, that the object was accomplished.
Her attention was then called to similar abuses in
the Channel Islands. After thirteen years of agita-
tion a large public asjdum for the humane and
scientific treatment of the demented was built.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 33
She also inspected the asyhims in Rome, finding' so
much to condemn that she obtained an audience with
Pope Pius IX. She was received with the greatest
kindness, and her reveUitions intently listened to.
Later the Pope visited the asylum, and found so
many shocking things that, at a second audience, he
thanked Miss Dix that she, " a woman and a Protes-
tant, had crossed the seas to call his attention to
these cruelly ill-treated members of his flock."
On her return to America, until the breaking out of
the Civil AYar, in 1861, Miss Dix devoted herself to
hospital work, aiding new institutions and directing
older ones. In all, she founded thirty-two hospitals,
besides two in Japan, that owe their inception to her
influence.
Dui'ing the war she devoted herself to hospital
work. She was superintendent of nurses, having the
entire control of their appointment and assignment to
duty. At the close of the war she was instrumental
in raising the funds for the great national monument
for dead soldiers at Fortress Monroe.
In the latter days of Miss Dix's career it may be
said that no benevolent project ever lacked her sup-
port. It might be as simple a thing as a drinking
fountain in a densely populated district in Boston,
or collecting money for the suffering from some great
conflaorration. AYork for others was still her mis-
sion, and though she was loaded with praise and
honor for the great things accomplished, she was as
unostentatious as a child, and looked always for the
results, and never at her own efforts. She was
34 OUR ARMY NURSES.
revered like a jjutron saint by many who had reaped
the benefit of her care.
She dropped at, last, with the harness on, while
ready as ever to work for others. Her mind was
clear to the last, and she was always interested in
what had been her life work.
In commemoration of her is the Dix Ward in the
McLean Asylum at Somerville, the Dixmont Hospital
of Pennsylvania, and the Dorothea L. I^ix House on
Warrenton Street, just opposite the Barnard Memo-
rial, which was the first fruits of the seed sown by
Miss Dix in 1821.
Her biographer, Rev. Francis Tiffany, speaks of
one very tender trait in her nature, and that was her
friendship for young people, and her desire to see
them happily settled in homes of their own. That in
her the social element was strongly developed, and
that, when a lonely Avorker, she coveted what was
denied her — the society of cultured people. It is this
in her character that is exemjDlified in the life at the
house on AYarrenton Street.
This little social center comprises a group of
working women, teachers, artists, and a physician,
who have made a home for themselves amid a set of
other workers, not in any sense in a charitable
way, but to be among those who also work. Their
occupations giving them a little more leisure than
others, they devote certain nights of the week to
society, and invite the neighbors in for a pleasant
evening.
Incidentally they have some talks on various live
OUR ARMY NURSES.
35
topics of the day, with music, and, when occasion
requires, helpful words to each other.
The life at the Dix House has been misrepre-
sented; for it is not an alms-giving from the wealthy
to the poor, but the social life among- workers, to
help to brighten, by mutual intercourse and confi-
dence, and make pleasanter, toilsome lives.
If, in her visits, the physician meets some of the
very poor who need aid, the matter is looked into,
and help is forthcoming; but the real help is more,
perhaj^s, that of amusement, to while away the weary
hours.
During the summer some of the occupants of the
house will be away on vacation, and the use of their
room is offered, free of charge, to any girl earning
small wages who would be glad to save expense.
Application can be made at the house.
UNKNOWN GRAVES, NATIONAL CEMETERY, GETTYSBURG, PENN.
36
OUR ARMY NURSES.
Ik
^nyrsRS. MARY ASHTON RICE LIYERMOEE
If I was born in Boston, Mass., December 19,
/ ^ 1821. Her father, Timothy Rice, of North-
^ -^ field, Mass., who was of AVelsh descent,
iserved in the United States Xavy during the war of
1812-15. Her mother, Zel)iah Yose Glover Ashton,
was the daughter of Capt. Nathaniel Ashton, of Lon-
don, Eng. Mrs. Livermore was placed in the public
schools of Boston at an eai'ly age, and was gradu-
ated at fourteen, receiving one of the six medals dis-
tributed for good scholarship. There w^ere then no
high, normal, or Latin schools for girls, and their
admission to colleges was not even suggested. She
was sent to the Female Seminary in Charlestown,
Mass., now Boston, where she completed the four
years' course in two, when she was elected a member
of the faculty, as teacher of Latin and French.
While teaching she continued her studies in Latin,
Greek, and metaphysics, under tutors; resigning her
position at the close of the second year, to take
charge of a family school on a plantation in Southern
Yirginia, where she remained nearly three years.
As there were between four and five hundred slaves
on the estate, Mrs. Livermore was brought face to
face with the institution of slavery, and witnessed
deeds of barbai-ism as tragic as any described in
"LTncle Tom's Cabin." She returned to the North a
37
38 OUR ARMY NURSES.
radical Abolitionist, and henceforth entered the lists
against slavery, and every form of oppression.
She was identified with the AVashingtonian Teni-
pei'ance Keform ])efore her marriage; was on the
editoral staff of a juvenile tem])erance paper, organ-
ized a Cold Water Army of fifteen hundred boys
and girls, for whom she wrote temperance stories,
which she i-ead to them and which were afterwards
published in book form, under the title of '' The Chil-
dren's Arm3^" In 1857 the Livei'mores i*emoved to
Chicago, 111., where Mr. Livermore became proprietor
and editor of a weekly religious paper, the organ of
the Universalist denomination in the ^N^orthwest, and
Mrs. Livermore became his associate editor. At the
first nomination of Abraham Lincoln for the Presi-
dency, in the Chicago Wigwam, in 1860, she was
the only woman reporter assigned a place among a
hundred or more men reporters.
Out of the chaos of benevolent eftbrts evolved
by the opening of tlie Civil War, in 1861, the
United States Sanitary Commission was born.
Mrs. Livermore, with her friend Mrs. Jane C. Hoge^
was identified with i-elief work for the soldiers,
from the beginning. Mrs. Livermore resigned all
]3ositions save that on her husband's paper, secured a
governess for her children, and subordinated all de-
mands upon her time to those of the Commission.
She organized Soldiers' Aid Societies; delivered pub-
lic addresses in the principal towns and cities of the
Northwest; wrote letters by the hundreds, personally
and Ijy amanuenses, and answered all that she re-
OUR ARMY NURSES. 39
ceived; Avrote the circulars, bulletins, and monthly
I'epoi'ts of the Commission; made trips to the front
Avith sanitary stores, to whose distribution she gave
personal attention; brought back large numbers of
invalid soldiers who were discharged, that they might
die at home; assisted to plan, organize, and conduct
colossal Sanitary Fairs ; detailed women nurses for the
hospitals, by order of Secretary Stanton, and accom-
panied them to their posts: in short, the story of
women's work during the war has never been told,
and can never be understood save by those connected
with it. The war over, Mrs. Livermore resumed the
former tenor of her life, and took up again the phil-
anthropic and literary work which she had tempo-
rarily relinquished. ^Notwithstanding her many years
of hard service, she is still in vigorous health. Happy
in her home, and in the society of her husband,
children, and grnndchildi-en, she keeps steadily at
work with voice, and pen, and influence, ready to lend
a hand to the weak and struggling, to strike a blow
for the right against the wrong, to prophesy a better
future in the distance, and to insist on a woman's
right to help it along. Since her return from Chicago,
her home has been in Melrose, Mass.
40
OUR ARMY NURSES.
'ii
'' ' r
STREET SCENE IN RICHMOND AFTER BATTLE OF FAIR OAKS.
42
OUR ARMY NURSES.
CLARA BARTON.
^^HE work of Miss Clara Barton during the late
(s) (s) war, as that of Miss Dix, is too well known to
reqnire fnrther comment; but the Red Cross
^ ^ movement, of which she is the pioneer Ameri-
can champion, has been so qnietly and modestly
managed that our people, as a rule, know httle about
the Societ}^, although it has been in existence for
al)out thirty years, and the American Branch for
eleven.
The Society of the Red Cross is to-day one of the
most important philanthropic organizations in the
world, whose results prove it the most productive
and beneficent. Briefly stated, it is a confederation
of societies in diffei-ent countries, having as an
aim the amelioration of the condition of sick and
wounded prisoners in time of war. But to mider-
stand its spirit, we nmst glance over past history,
through bar]:)arous and semi-barbarous ages, and
even np to the time of wars as recent as the Napo-
leonic, and we see organized, systematic wounding
aud slaughtering of men; but not until three centuries
ago was there any system, supported by the State, by
which the victims could be aided in any way, and
until a very recent date there was no hospital system
worthy the name. AVe cannot but wonder that such
a condition of things existed so late in the history of
the world; but the very fact that miiversal war was
43
44 OUR ARMY NURSES.
tolerated, was sufficient to prevent a spirit of
humanity from developing in the hves of men.
However, when that spirit was once aroused it grew
rapidly, and since the campaigns of Napoleon, no
war has occurred in Europe without voluntary relief
societies spi'inging up to aid the disabled, though
their efficiency was lessened by lack of organization
and permanency.
When the war between Russia and the Allied
Powers broke out, in 1853, all Europe, and especially
England, had been awakened to a different feeling
toward the common soldier than had ever been
cherished before. Only a certain knowledge of the
inhumanities practiced upon the disabled was now
needed to arouse the English to fierce indignation.
That knowledge was furnished by the newspa])er cor-
respondent who went with the army to Crimea.
All the horrors of j^estilence and blood were faith-
fully portrayed, and the reproach of all unnecessary
suffering laid where it justly belonged, upon the gov-
ernments that had failed to provide efficient sanitary
service. Then, and not till then, did the truth become
a clearly outlined idea, that the military power prob-
ably never could provide and keep in operation an
adequate medical service through a long campaign.
Face to face with this fact, and appalled by the
awful disaster, the Minister of War, Lord Sydney
Herbert, wrote to Miss Florence Nightingale for help.
A letter from her asking permission to help was
even then on its way to him. A few days later she
was on her wav to the scenes of war. Here was the
OUR ARMY NURSES. 45
beginning of a system by which the misery of soldiers
is reduced to the lowest degree jDossible under present
conditions.
The history of Miss Xightingale and her three hun-
dred companions is a familiar household story. She
has become one of the most revered and beloved
ideals.
]N^ow we come to the immediate events which led
to the organization of the Red Cross, under which
every state in Europe has to-day an organization,
together with many other nations.
A Swiss gentleman, named Henri Dunant, first
conceived the idea of ])ermanent societies similar to
the temporaiy ones that had already come into exist-
ence for some special occasion, and that these societies
be formed among all the nations, and be bound to-
gether by solemn pledges to prevent unnecessary suf-
fering where possible.
In 1859 he was traveling in Italy Avhen the battle
of Solferino occurred, and for some days I'emained in
the hospitals, helping to care for the wounded. Soon
he published a little l)ook describing the scenes he
had witnessed there, vividly picturing the horrors of
war. The book created a w ide-spread sensation, and
he determined to present his theories to the Society
of Public Utility. Accordingly at their next meeting
he presented this measure, viz.: that the central
society form auxiliary societies, each organization to
be permanent, and in time of peace, work to increase
its ethciency. Each central society was to labor
especially to secure the I'ecognition of its govern-
46 OCR AR3rV A^CRSES.
ment, and to establish symj^athetic relations between
the society and the state.
M. Dunant found an able advocate in the president
of the Swiss Society, M. Gustav Moynier, who
warmly approved his plans, and presented him to the
society, which appointed a connnittee to take charge
of the movement, and endeavor to intei'est other
countries. As a result, an international conference
was called in October, 18(33, where sixteen nations,
including all the great European powers except
Russia, were repi'esented. Under the authority of
the Supreme Council of Switzerland, this conference
called an International Convention, Avhich met at
Geneva, August 8, 1864. It was well attended;
there were present twenty-five membei'S eminent in
diplomatic or military service or in medical science.
All came, empowered by their several governments,
to sign a treaty should it be deemed advisable. Here
sixteen nations were again represented, and the
deliberations occupied two weeks. The articles
adopted were as follows:
"That hospitals containing the sick and wounded
shall lie held neutral by belligerants so long as thus
occupied.'"
The second and third provide for " the neutrality
and security of all persons euiployed in the care of
inmates of the hospitals, surgeons, chaplains, nurses,
and attendants, even after the enemy has gained
the ground; but when no longer required for the
wounded, they shall be promptly conducted, luider
escort, to the outposts of the enemy, to rejoin the
OUR ARMY NURSES. 47
corps to which thc}^ belong-, thus preventing all oppor-
tunity to roam fi-ee, and make observations under
cover of neutrality."
Article four settles the terms upon which the
material of hospitals shall not be subject to cap-
ture.
Article five, with a view to quieting the fears of
the inhabitants in the vicinity of a battle, Avho often
flee in terror, as well as to secure their assistance and
the comfort of their homes for the care of the
wounded, offers military protection and certain
exemptions to all who shall entertain and care for
the wounded in their houses.
Article six binds the parties contracting the treaty
not only to give the requisite care and treatment to
all sick and wounded who shall fall into their hands,
but to see to it that their misfortune shall not be
aggravated by the prospect of banishment or impris-
onment; they shall not be retained as prisoners of
war, but, if circumstances admit, may be given up
immediately after the action, to be cared for by their
own army, or, if retained until recovered, and found
disabled for service, the}^ shall be safely returned to
their country and friends ; and also that all convoys
of sick and wounded shall be protected by absolute
neutrality.
Article seven provides for a flag for hospitals and
convoys, and an arm badge for persons. The badge
adopted was a red cross with four equal arms, on a
white ground, this being the national ensign of
Switzerland with the colors revei'sed.
48 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Articles eight and nine provide for the details of
execution being left open for the subsequent admis-
sion of other governments.
This treaty at first received twelve signatures,
which was soon increased to sixteen.
This is indeed a wonderful gain over the time
when the w^ounded were left to starve, as a matter of
course, and we see in it a beginning of the end of
w^ar. When men fought face to face they became
infuriated, and were like Avild beasts, so, naturally, no
mercy would be shown a fallen enemy. Xow that
our wai-s are freed from almost every trace of personal
combat, and are simply deadly illustrations of the
triumphs of inventive genius, and demonstrations of
a country's w^ealth and power, such a treaty has be-
come possible, and is in perfect harmony with an era
that favors arl)iti-ation.
Forty governments are now enrolled under the
Red Cross, and the Avords '' wounded and a pris-
oner" can never again freeze the heart Avith their icy
touch of despair. ]N^ever again Avill the fallen perish
in agony alone, for a well-knoAvn flag of truce will
make it possible for a reHef corps to go to their aid,
unquestioned and unharmed.
The flrst act in each government after the treaty
has been signed, is t<^ form a national central society,,
which is independent, except so far as it owes allegi-
ance to the International Society of Switzerland in
respect to a few fundamental principles essential to
unity of direction and successful action: "The first
being, that in each country there shall l)e one ^N'ational
OUR ARMY NURSES. 49
Society, to which the auxiliary societies shall be
tributary; second, that the societies shall in time of
peace keep themselves constantly prepared for war,
thus securing permanency of organization; third,
that during war their succor shall be extended to foe
equally with friend, whenever necessary; fourth,
that societies whose countries ai'e at peace may send
relief to belligerent armies, without being considered
to violate the j^rinciples of neutrality to which their
governments may be pledged." " In Europe the cen-
tral societies are under the patronage of men and
women of rank, often the members of royal families.
Of the first one formed, the German Empress,
Augusta, grandmother of the pi-esent Emperor, was
head, taking ardent interest in its affairs. Her
daughter. Grand Duchess Louise, of Baden, fills the
same position in the society of that country. Both
these ladies were heart and soul in the Avork of the
Red Cross."
Germany took the movement to her heart at once,
and when war came was fully prepared; no such
provision having ever been known before. When
the Franco-Prussian War broke out they were again
in a condition of perfect efficiency.
Hitherto France had done comparatively little, but
after the war commenced, she threw herself into the
work with unparalleled energy, and within a month a
thorough system was established. What the condi-
tion of France would have been without the aid of
the Red Cross, the imagination dares not picture.
Thus in 1871 the movement had an assured place in
50 OUR ARMV NUJ^SES.
the hearts of grateful people, "ained hy its efRciency
in time of need.
We come now to the events which led to the for-
mation of the society in America; but in order to
understand the situation we must know something- of
its President, Miss Chu-a Barton, whose work has
been done so quietly that thousands in our own land
Ivuow little about her beyond her nauie.
At the beginning of our late RelK'llion she was in
Washington. When news came that the troops on
their way to the Capital had been fired upon, and
that wounded men were lying in Baltimore, she
volunteered with others to go and cai-e for them.
She had entered upon what proved to lie her life
work. From that time she was to be found in the
hospitals, or Avherever soldiers were in need of at-
tendance. Soon she was recognized as a woman of
great ability and discretion, and could pass in and
out at will, where others met with constant hin-
drance by *' red tape."
She met the wounded from Virginia ; she was
pi'csent at the battles of Cedar Moinitain, Second
Bull Run, Antietani and Fredericksburg; was eight
months at the siege of Charleston, at Fort AVagner,
in front of Petersburg and at the Wilderness. She
was also at the hospitals near Richmond and on
Morris Island. ISTeither were her labors over when
the war ended, liut her tenderness and revei-ence led
her to remain in Andersonville six weeks, to mark as
many as possible of the thirteen thousand graves of
Union prisoners who were l)uried there.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 51
When this self-imposed task was over, her physi-
cian ordered her to Europe for rest and change. But
her splendid work on our battlefields was known
abroad, and before her health was fully established,
she was asked to join the relief corps of the Red
Cross during the Franco-Prussian War. Her ex-
perience and knowledge were eagerly sought, and
she did heroic service.
In 1869, when the International Connnittee learned
that she was in Geneva, they called npon her to ask
an explanation of the strange fact that while the
Unitec^ States had shown the most tender care for
its o\,- wounded, it had held aloof from the Red
Cross.
Miss Barton told them she had never heard of the
Society nor of the Geneva Treaty while at home,
and that she was certain that the United States, as a
people, were totally ignorant that proposals such as
they alluded to had ever been sul^mitted to the Gov-
ernment, and showed her visitors how some single
official could carelessly keep the people from any
knowledge that such pi'oposals had been made to
them.
Of course she was aflame with enthusiasm for the
movement, and shame that the United States was not
a party to the treaty; and she resolved to give her-
self no rest until our people were acquainted with the
Treaty of Geneva.
After the convention in 1868, in Pai-is, when the
United States was represented by Dr. Hemy Bellows,
the subject was again presented to our Government
52 OUR ARMY NURSES.
I)V tluit gentleman, and, singnlariy enough, met only
indift'erenee; however, throngh his efforts a society
was formed, but it lacked the essentials to success;
viz., the sanction tnid sympathy of government, and
soon died.
After tlie war in Europe was over, Miss Barton
came home, an invalid, and lay upon her bed for
years; and when at hist she ralhed, it was to begin
almost as a child, and slowly acqiure even the poAver
to walk.
As soon as she Avas able she went to AYashing-
ton and presented the suliject of the Treaty to Presi-
dent Hayes, in 1877, and the cause w^as set forth l)y
a committee of three women and one man. This
effort won no response, but four years later, when
Garfield was in the chaii-, the little society received
assui'ances of sympathy from Government. Secretary
Windom laid the subject before the Cal)inet, and the
President and all his secretaries were at once cor-
dially interested. Secretary Blaine wrote a warm
letter of approval, and the President, in his first
message to Congress, recommended our accession
to the Treaty. This w^as seventeen years after the
subject was first presented to our Government. The
society of 1877 was reorganized, and became incor-
porated as the American Association of the Red
Cross. But it remained for Pi-esident Arthur to
sign the Treaty, March 1, 1882.
Some indispensable changes had been made to
adapt it to the purposes of the United States. In the
Old World the Red Cross had kept its first purpose,
OUR ARMY NURSES. 53
— that of caring for the sick and wounded soldiers;
but in the United States we are comparatively safe
fi'om the danger of needing such services. So it was
deemed necessary to have a constitution here that
should enjoin work other than that pertaining to
armies, and a distinctly American feature was incor-
porated. ^'It is that our Society shall have for one of
its objects aids to the suffering in times of great
national calamities, such as floods and cyclones (visi-
tations to which we are peculiarly liable), great fires,
l)estilence, earthquake, or local famines,"
Misfortunes such as these come without warning,
and relief must come quickly, so constant preparation
is necessary, and perfect organization essential to
prevent untold misery.
Twelve national calamities have claimed the ser-
vices of the Red Cross: the Michigan fires, the
Ohio and Mississippi floods (1882), the Mississippi
cyclone, again in 1884 the floods, the Vh'ginia
epidemic, the Texas drouglit, the Charleston earth-
quake, the Mt. Vernon (111.) cyclone, and the Johns-
town disaster. Besides these it rendered assistance
to Russia during the famine.
No better occasion to illustrate the work of the
Red Cross has ever occurred than at the Johnstown
disaster. The President, with fifty aids, arrived on
the first train from the East, and with them came
everything necessary for people, who were left utterly
destitute. Establishing themselves in tents, they be-
gan to distribute food, and means were provided to
insure the fact that no one would be overlooked.
54 OUR ARMY NURSES.
The confidence in the Society was such that money
and supphes continued to arrive, and buildings were
erected to i-eceive them. The crushed, heart-broken
women were organized into committees to assist in
the work, and with their help the wants of over
20,000 persons were made known to the secretary
in writing.
The white wagons with the red s^anbol carried
supplies for all of these. Barracks were erected,
where large numbers were housed and fed; then two
and four-roomed buildings were put up and furnished
by the Society, and family life began once more.
A comfortable hospital was next arranged, and in the
autumn turned over to the city. Miss Barton re-
mained five months in that devastated city, and
among the most touching tributes ever paid to the Red
Cross is a sketch in a Johnstown paper of that date:
" The vital idea of the Ked Cross is not charity, it
scoi'us the word, but friendliness, helpfulness. It
is a privilege to do for those in trouble; they are
neighbors in the good Samaritan sense: in a word,
human brotherhood is their ci'eed, and nothing less
than the true law of love as given by Jesus Christ
their animating principle."
In March, 1893, the American Society received a
welcome gift. Dr. Joseph Gardner presented a tract
of land, comprising more than one square mile, with
buildings, fruit trees, and everything necessary to a
beautiful farm. In accepting the gift Miss Barton
says, " This property will be the one piece of neutral
ground on the Western Hemisphere, protected by
OUR ARMY NURSES. 55
international treaty again>st the tread of hostile feet.
Forty nations are pledged to hold all material and
stores of the Red Cross and all its followers nentral
in war, and free to go and come as their dnties re-
qnire. 1 will direct that monuments be ei-ected de-
fining the boundaries of this domain, dedicated to
eternal peace and hnmanity, npon which shall be in-
scribed the insignia of the Treaty of Geneva ; w hich
insignia all the nations of the earth are bound by
solemn covenant to respect."
In writing of Miss Barton, Laura Doolittle says:
''Her superb executive ability must have impressed
all who met her. She influences and controls men
and women not so much because of native gifts of
leadership, as because of elevation of character,
strong convictions, and high purposes. In person
and manner she is gentle and womanly, her voice
sweet and feminine; but that she is an unusual,
peculiar woman, every one feels who meets her.
That which is deeply boi-ne in upon the mind is that
she is totally without fear ; that the ' custom ' which
lies upon the rest of us with such a weight, lies not
at all upon her; that for some deep reason she is a
woman apart. She is a law to her staff, and is
worshiped by them.
"A life devoted wholly to the highest objects, a
heart single to the service of humanity, time, health
and fortune given without stint, and without hope of
earthly reward, — history cannot fail to place her high
on the roll of those who love God supremely, and
her neighbor as themselves.
56 OUR ARMY NURSES.
*' In a little casket in Miss Bai-ton's room lie some
few jewels, badges of orders, gifts from ro^al i)er-
sons, societies, beneficiaries, visible testimonials of
love, gratitnde, and appreciation; conrt jewels from
the Grand Duchess of Baden; a medal and jewels
from the Empress of Germany; a decoration from
the Qneen of Servia ; the Iron Cross of Merit, given
only for heroic deeds of kindness, from old Kaiser
Wilhelm, and some other deeoi-ations. A beautiful
brooch aud pendant of diamonds testify to the abound-
ing gratitude and love of the people of Johns-
town."
The American Society has its headquarters in
Washington, in the mansion once nsed as the head-
quarters of General Grant. The walls are decoi-ated
by flags of many nations, the banner of Switzerland,
with its Avhite cross on a crimson field, occupying the
place of honor. Miss Barton meets all the expenses
of the establishment from her private fortune.
Over this Iniilding floats the banner of the Red
Cross, telling to all the world that the United States
is leagued with thirty-nine other nations pledged to
promote the human brotherhood.
We append an address delivered by Clara Barton
before the International Council of Women, held in
Washington, :March 25 to April 1, 1888.
Thh Red Cross.
The organization of the Red Cross is the result of
an international treaty known among nations as the
OUR ARMY NURSES. 57
''Treaty of Geneva," and has for its object the amel-
ioration of the conditions of that chiss of persons
who, in accordance with the cnstoms of mankind
from the earHest liistoi-y to tlie present, have been
called to maintain the bonndaries of nations, and even
national existence itself, by hmnan warfare.
Whether w^dl or ill, needful or needless, that na-
tions and lx)nndaries be so preserved, is not a qnes-
tion for me here to consider. That they have been,
and mainly are so preserved, that no better method is
yet consnnnnated, and that, in the progress of hu-
manity, the existing countries of the civilized world
have seen fit to enter into an international treaty for the
betterment of tlie conditions of those 8ul)jects or citi-
zens who, by their laws, are called to the performance
oi" this duty, are facts w hich I am here to state. This
international ti-eaty of 1864 commences wdth the neu-
tralizing of all parties in their efforts at relief. It
l)rings to the aid of the medical and hospital depart-
ments of armies the direct, organized, and protected
help of the people. It goes through the entire cate-
gory of military medical regime, as practiced up to its
date; makes war upon and plucks out its old-time
barliarities, its needless restrictions and cruelties, and
finally, in effect, ends by teaching Avar to make war
upon itself.
By its international code, all military hospitals
under its flag become neutral, and can be neither at-
tacked nor captured. All sick and wounded within
them remain unmolested. Surgeons, nurses, chap-
lains, attendants, and all non-combatants at a field,
58 OUR ARMY NURSES.
wearing the accredited insignia of the Red Cross, are
protected from capture. Badly wounded prisoners
lying* upon a captured fiekl, are dehvered to their
own army if desired. All supplies designed for the
use of the sick or wounded of either army, and bear-
ing the sign of the Red Cross, are protected, and
held sacred to their use. All convoys of wounded or
prisoners in exchange are safely protected in transit,
and if attacked from ambush or otherwise harmed,
an international treaty is broken. All persons resid-
ing in the vicinity of a battle about to take place
shall be notified by the generals commanding both
armies, and full protection, with a guard, assui-ed
each house, which shall open its doors to the care of
the wounded fi-om either army; thus each house be-
comes a furnished field liospital,and its inmates nurses.
Each nation, upon its accession to the Treaty,
establishes a national society, or committee, through
which it will act internationally in its various rela-
tions. This body corporate adopts a constitution, in
the formation of which it seeks the best methods for
serving humanity in general, together with the
interests of its own people, in the direction of its
legitimate efforts.
With the exception of our own, no national consti-
tution has covered more than the direct ground of
the treaty ; viz., the prevention and relief of suffering
by war.* The formers of the JS^ational Constitution
♦Since the reading of this address each nation which has united with
the treaty, including Japan, has requested to be admitted with the
American Amendment.
or A' ARMY NURSES. 59
of the Red Ci'oss of America foresaw that the great
woes of its people would not be confined to human
warfare; that the elements raging, unchained, would
wage us wars and face us in battles; that as our
vast tei'ritory became populated, and people, in the
place of prairies and forests, should lie in their track,
these natural agents might prove scarcely less de-
structive and more relentless than human enemies;
that fire, flood, famine, pestilence, drouth, earthquake,
and tornado woidd call for the ])r()mj)t help of the
people no less than war, and while organizing for the
latter they also included the former. The ratifying
congress at Berne accepted us with that digression
from the original purport of the treaty, and what we
term the ""civil branch " of the Red Cross is known
abroad as the ^'American Amendment."
With these exjjlanations, it remains only to name
some of the things accomplished and the changes
which have taken place in consequence of this treaty
during its life of a short quarter of a century.
Previous to the war of the Crimea civil help for
military necessities was unknown. Florence IN^ight-
ingale trod a pathless field. In the wars which fol-
lowed, till 1866, even this example was not heeded,
and the wars of Xa})oleon III. in JSTorthern Italy wei-e
types of military cruelt}^ medical insufficiency, and
needless suffering which shocked the woi-ld. Out of
the smouldering ashes of these memories rose the
clear, steady flame of the Red Cross ; so bright and
beautiful that it drew the gaze of all mankind; so
broad that it reached the farthest bound of the hori-
60 OUR ARMY NURSES.
zoii; so peaceful, wise, harmless and fraternal that all
nations and sects, the Christian and the Jew, the
Protestant and the Catholic, the soldier and the phi-
lanthropist, the war-maker and the peace-maker, could
meet in its softened rays, and, hy its calm, holy light,
reveal to each other their difficulties, compare their
views, study methods of humanity, and, from time to
time, learn from and teach to each other things better
than they had known.
Our own terril)le war which freed 4,000,000 slaves
and gave to lis the ^^ Battle Hymn of the Republic,"
had no ray of this fraternal light. We "read the
righteous sentence by dim and flaring lamps," and in
darkness and inhumanity, soi'i'ow and doul^t, " our
souls went marching on."
The great Commissions rose, and performed a work
of relief hitherto unknown, but from lack of military
recognition their best efforts com})aratively failed;
and from lack of permanent organization their fu-
ture possibilities were lost to the world.
With the Franco-German war of '70-71 com-
menced the opportunities for the practical application
of the princi^^les of the treaty. Both nations were in
the compact. There was perfect accord between the
military and the Ked Cross Relief. There Avas
neither medical nor hospital work save through and
under the treaty of Geneva. The Red Cross bras-
sard flashed on the arm of every agent of relief, from
the medical director at the headquarters of the king
to the little boy carrying water to his wounded lieu-
tenant; fi-om the noble Empress Augusta and her
OUR ARMY NURSES. 61
court, and poor Eugenia, while she had one, to the
patient, tired nuivse in the lowliest hospital or tent hy
the wayside.
^o record of needless inhumanity or cruelty to
wounded or sick, stains the annals of that wai'.
I walked its hospitals day and night. I served in
its camps, and I marched with its men, and I know
whereof I speak. The German, the Frenchman, the
Italian, the Arab, the Turko, and the Zouave were
gathered tenderly alike, and lay side by side in the
Red Cross palace hospitals of Germany. The I'oyal
women, who to-day mourn their own dead, mourned
then the dead of friend and foe.
Since that day no war between nations within the
treaty has taken place in which the Red Cross did
not stand at its ]30st, at the field, and the generous
gifts of neutral nations have filled its hands.
The treaty has brought the war-making powers to
know each other. Four times it has called the heads
of thirty to forty nations to meet through appointed
delegates, and confer upon national neutrality and
relief in war. It has created and established one
common sign for all military medical relief the world
over, and made all under that sign safe and sacred.
It has established one military hospital flag for all
nations. It has given to the people the recognized
right to reach and succor their wounded at the field.
It has rendered impossi1)le any insiifficieny of sup-
plies, either medical or nutritive, for wounded or pris-
oners which human sympathy and power can reach.
It has given the best inventions known to science for
62 OUR ARMY NURSES.
the proper handling" of mutilated person.s, whether
soldiers or civilians. The most approved i:)ortable
hospitals in the world are of the Red Cross. It has
frowned upon all old-time modes of cruelty in de-
structive warfare; poisoned and explosive bullets are
no longer popular. Antiseptic dressings and electric
light at battlefields ai"e established facts, and the am-
bulance and stretcher-bearei's move in the rear ranks
of every army. These isolated facts are only the
mountain peaks which I point out to you. The great
Ali)ine range of humanity and activity below cannot
be shown in fifteen minutes.
80 much for human warfare and the legitimate dis-
pensation of the treaty.
Touching our ""American Amendment," the wars
of the elements have not left us quite at leisure.
The public in general, to a large extent, is coming
to the use of the Red Cross as a medium of conveyance
and distribution for its contributions. The ^National
Association, with its headquarters at Washington,
has a field-agent, wdio visits, in person, every scene
where aid is rendered. Commencing Avith the "forest
fires " of Michigan, in 1881, there has fallen to its
hands a share of the relief-work in the ovei'flow of
the Mississippi River, in 1882; of the Ohio, in 1883;
of the Mississii)pi cyclone the same year; the over-
How of both the Ohio and Mississippi, in 1881; the
representation of the United States Government at
the International Conference of Geneva, Switzerland,
in 1884; the exhibition of "woman's work " in the
Red Cross, both foreign and American, at the Expo-
OL'R ARMY NURSES. 63
sition at ;N"ew Orleans, in 1885 ; the drouth in Texas,
in 1886; the Charleston earthquake, in 1886; the
representation of the United States Cxovernment again
at the court of their Koyal Highness the Grand
Duke and Duchess of Baden, at Carlsruhe, Germany,
in 1887 ; and the relief of the sufferers from the Mt.
Yernon cyclone, in 1888.*
In the overflow of the rivers in 1884 the Govern-
ment appropriated |150,000 for distribution through
the War Department, and magnificently and faith-
fully was that distribution made ; an honor to any
nation.
The Red Cross, with no appropriation and no
treasury, received from the public, and personally
distributed in the space of four months, money and
material at the moderately estimated value of $175,-
000; an honor to any people.
But, s'ays one, "What has this war movement, this
Red Cross treaty, to do with real progress, and the
bringing about of that great universal peace toward
which our eyes and hearts and hopes are turned, and
for which we have so long organized, labored, and
prayed V "
Wars are largely the result of unbridled passions.
That universal treaty binding every war-making
power to wholesome restraints, pledging it to hu-
manity, and holding it responsible to the entire world,
*The last five years have added to the relief and labors of the above
list. The yellow fever epidemic of Florida, in 1888; the Johnstown
disaster, in 1889; the Russian famine, in 1891-"92; the Fifth Interna-
tional Conference at Rome, 1892; and the hurricane and tidal wave of
the South Carolina sea- island coast of 1893-'94.
64 OUR ARMY NURSES.
is the bit in the nionth, the eur]) on the neck, of the
war horse; and while it holds out the measure of oats
in the one hand, it carries the bridle in the other. It
constitutes a peace society which cannot be sneered
at in counsel, nor ignored in war. It is one of the
thresholds to the temple of Peace, and even ourselves
may be farther from the entrance than we are wont
to fondly dream. Wars are organized mobs, they
tell us. We are not without that seed in our own
fair land to-day.
Women have taken their share in the work. Em-
presses and queens — princesses of peace and hu-
manity— as well as emperors and kings, lead its
societies and its relief work in Avar; and Avhile each
queenly wife stands Avith her Ked Cross hand on the
epauletted shoulder of her w^ar-meditating husband^
he Avill consider well before he declares. This has
been and Avill be again the case; and in the great
millennial day, when Peace has conquered war, and
its standards float out from the shining battlements,
the Ked Cross and its devoted workers Avill be there.
66
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. FOWLE.
**lenglan^ bae ber one, Hmcrica ber
tbou9an^0/*
QF all the women who devoted themselves to the
soldiers in our late Kebellion, perhaps none
had a more vai'ied experience than Elida B.
Rumsey, a g'irl so 3'oung that Miss Dix would not
receive her as a nurse; a fact for which hundreds
had reason to be gi-ateful.
Undaunted by seeming difficulties, she persisted in
" doing the next thing," and so fulfilled her great
desire to do something for the Union soldiers. Yet
it was not to these alone that her kindly ministrations
extended; for wherever she saw a soldier in need her
ready sympathies were enlisted, little cai'ing if the
heartbeats stirred a coat of blue or gray.
Miss Rumsey vv-as born in I^ew York City, June 6,
184:2. Upon the removal of her parents to Washing-
ton, where the ^'Secesh" element was strong in '61,
her patriotic spirit was so enthused that she deter-
mined to help in some way; and relying upon her
own resources, she entered upon a career that gave
her an almost national reputation, and endeared her
to thousands of hearts.
She was engaged to John A. Fowle, of Jamaica
Plain, Mass., who was employed in the Xavy Depart-
ment, at Washington, but devoted all his spare time
08 OUR ARMY NURSES.
to philanthropic enterprises, — and their work was
supplementary from the first. In November, 'Gl, she
began to visit the hospitals and sing to the soldiers,
who found relief and courage in the tones of her
strongly sympathetic voice, and watched eagerly for
the young, vivacious face that almost daily appeared
in the wards, always bringing sunshine and leaving
renewed hope. It was the knowledge of how little
the boys had to look forward to from day to day,
while all the time under such depressing influences,
that first inspired the thought of supplying them
with pictures and books. Then, too, much stern
condemnation was passed upon the convalescents
for playing cards and telling idle stories, and Miss
Rumsey believed a better way would be to displace
evil by good.
The " Soldiers' Rest " was a name very inappro-
priately given to a place near the Baltimore & Ohio
depots where prisoners were exchanged, or some-
times stayed over night when they had no Avhere
else to go. Miss Rumsey had a strong desire to see
what kind of men had been in Libby Prison, and
when the first lot had been exchanged she went
down to see them off as they were going home on a
furlough. They looked utterly disheartened and
demoralized by disaster and suffering; and their
enthusiasm was all gone. Some one recognized the
young lady, and called for a song. To gain attention
and give her a moment's preparation, Mr. Fowle
stepped to her «ide and said, ^' Boys, how would
you like a song?" " Oh, very well, I guess," came
OUR ARMY NURSES. 69
^ the reply in spiritless tones. She sang the "Red,
AYhite, and Blue/' Soon they crowded ai'onnd her
with moi-e interest than they had yet shown since
leaving prison; Init comparatively few could see her.
At the close of the song they called for anothoi-, and
a pile of knapsacks was thrown on the ground.
Standing on this rude rostrum she sang " The Star-
Spangled Banner/' Her natural enthusiasm was
intensified by the surroundings, and the desire to
inspire the boys with the courage they had all but
lost. Her voice was full of power, and her whole
attitude instinct with patriotism, as she brought her
foot down on the imaginary rebel flags (words writ-
ten by Mr. Fowle on the first captured "rebel flags,"
then on exhibition in the rotunda in the Capitol),
when, raising her eyes, she met those of a Southern
officer in a pen just beyond, waiting to be transferred.
It was but a momentary interchange of unspoken
thought, but a moment surcharged with deep, sym-
pathetic feeling on the part of each ; and the impres-
sion could not be lightly forgotten. In less time
than it takes to tell it, that strange experience was
over. Our boys, now restored to their former ear-
nestness, rent the air with cheer after cheer. I^'rom
this time her voice, hitherto used only for the enjoy-
ment of her friends, was devoted to her country.
One of the first things definitely accompHshed was
the establishment of a Sunday evening prayer meet-
ing in Columbia College Hospital, in an upper room
in Auntie Pomroy's ward. That room was crowded
night after night, and overflow meetings were held
70 OUR ARMY NURSES.
in a grove near b}^ The interest steadily- increased,
the boys often doing donble duty in order to be
present, and they were continued as long as it was
safe; but the enthusiasm of the soldiers could not be
repressed when Miss Rumsey's sweet voice stiri-ed
their souls and rekindled the noble, self-sacrificinir
sjoirit that had brought them to such a place, and
cheers shook the A^ery walls. The soldiers planned
what they wanted her to sing from week to week,
and she threw into the songs all her great desire to
bring the boys l:iack to their better selves, and help
them to feel that they were not forgotten nor alone.
All this time her plans had been assuming outward
form. Xow, having received a grant of land from
Government, a building Avas erected, and the ;
^'Soldiers' Free Library" founded; Mrs. Walter \
Baker giving the hrt^t hundred dollars and the greater \
part of the remainder was earned by Miss Rumsey and
Mr. Fowle giving concerts, at two of which tliey had 1
the Marine Band, by order of the President. As far '
as known, this was the first library ever founded by
a woman, and that by a mere girl scarcely eighteen
years old. Perhaps no better idea of the institution
can be given than by an article from one of the news-
papers soon after the new building was occupied.
''Fast Day I took a walk to the Soldiers' Free Li-
brary and Reading Room; and, Messrs. Editors, if I
ever felt proud of being an old Massachusetts man,
my pride had no fall to-day. Six months ago Miss
Elida Rumsey, Avhose sweet voice has so often been
heard in the Choir of Representatives ' Hall, con-
OUR ARMY NURSES. 71
ceived the idea of establishing a free hbrary for the
soldiers. For this purpose she gave several concerts,
the avails from which were devoted to the erection of
a plain one-story building 65 x 24 feet, at a cost of
about one thousand dollars. The use of the land, on
Judiciary Square, was donated by Congi-ess.
" The reading-room is modestly fitted up with seats
which will accommodate two hundred and fifty per-
sons. It has a melodeon, on which soldiers practice
at will, though every Wednesday evening regular in-
struction is given in music and singing by Mr. and
Mrs. Fowle, and religious services are conducted by
the chaplain twice each Sunday. I may as well state
here that Miss Rumsey was married a short time since
to Mr. John A. Fowlo, of the ^avy Department,
formerly from Jamaica Plain, Mass. He is thoroughly
devoted, heart and soul, to the sufferers of the war.
"About fifty different papers are sent regularly by
publishers, free of charge. Boxes of books are daily
arriving for the libraiy, which already exceeds three
thousand volumes. One box from Jamaica Plain
came while I was there, — a donation from a Sunday
Hcliool, comprising many of the new works of the day.
The reading-room is open all day, and the library
four hours each day. Secretary Stanton has detailed
a convalescent soldier v/ho is alwa^^s on duty to keep
the room in order, deliver books, etc.
" One room is devoted to storage of medicine, deli-
cacies, stationery, socks, shirts, etc., and is under the
charge of Mrs. Fowle. Here the soldiers can pro-
cure Testaments (donated by the Massachusetts Bible
72 OUR AR3rV lYURSES.
Society), hymn books, pamphlets, newspapers, letter
paper, envelopes, etc., all free of charge.
"One object interested me deeply, — a box from
Dorchester containing one thousand small cotton
bags, each filled with tea or gronnd coffee, with a
few lumps of sugar, ready for immediate use. Every
convalescent who leaves for camp has a few of those
packages placed in his knapsack by Mrs. Fowle."
Having spoken of Miss Rumsej's marriage, we
add another sketch, also taken from a paper at that
time.
"Mr. and Mrs. Fowle first met in the reception
room at the House of Representatives. To-day,
March 1, 1863, after the conclusion of Dr. Stock-
ton's remarks, a scene never before witnessed in the
halls of Congress took place, in the form of a mar-
riage ceremony ; the parties being Mr. John A. Fowle
and Miss Elida B. Kumsey. Mr. Fowle is from
Boston, Mass., but at present a clerk in the !N^avy
Department. He is known as connected with move-
ments for the aid of soldiers in the hospitals, and for
the establishment of a free library for the soldiers.
Miss Rumsey is from ]^ew York, her father at
present residing in this city. She also has given
much attention to the patients in military hospitals.
During the present Congress she and Mr. Fowle
have in part composed the Choir of the House. For
this cause it is said that certain Senators and Repre-
sentatives desired that the marriage should take
place in the Representatives' Hall.
"A good deal of publicity had been given the
OrJ^ ARMY NURSES. 73
affair, and tlie floor and galleries were packed.
About four thousand peo})le were present. . . .
^' The marriage ceremony was performed according \
to the rites of the Episcopal Church, by Kev. Mr.
Quint, pastor of the church which Mr. Fowle at- /
tended in Jamaica Plain, and now chaplain of the /
Second Massachusetts Regiment. /
"The bride was dressed in a plain drab poplin, with
linen collar and cuffs, and wore a bonnet of the same
(color, ornamented with red, white, and blue flowers.
A bow of red, white, and blue ribbon was fastened
upon her breast.
"After the ceremony had been completed, the bene-
/ diction pi-onounced, and the couple were receiving
congratulations, a soldier in the gallery shouted,
^ Won't the bride sing the " Star Spangled Ban-
ner?'" and she did, then and there, in her bridal
dress, with never more of fervor in her beautiful
voice."
y President Lincoln had intended to be present, but
at the last moment he was detained ; but with "Auntie
Pomroy," in his carriage, he sent a magnificent bas-
ket of flowers. The city gardener, Mr. ^N^okes, also
sent a basket; and these, with the following note,
"Accept as a slight testimonial this check of one
hundred dollars from the doorkeeper and assistant,
Mrs. Ira Goodnoe," were all the presents or payment
she ever received for her services. On their return
from their bridal trip the soldiers of Columbia Hos-
pital requested the j)rivilege of reversing the order,
and giving a concert themselves to the newly married
74 OUR ARMY NURSES.
couple. When the company were assembled, six
pieces of plate were presented to the bride and
gTOom; a present from the officei-y, nurses, and
soldiers. But knowing that she would never accept
a sacrifice from those for whom she was laboring, no
soldier was allowed to give more than twenty-five
cents.
Also a large Bible from the soldiers of Judiciary
Hospital.
Mrs. Fowle has an almost inexhaustible supply of
racy anecdotes and pathetic stories that she knows so
well how and when to tell. She has, also, a collec-
tion of army relics, among them one of the first rebel
flags captured. On this flag she has stood many
times while singing "The Star Spangled Banner."
Perfectly fearless in the face of thoughtless criticism,
she went on her errands of mercy for three years,
doing anything tliat needed to be done. Mr.
Fowle had established the making of crutches and
canes for the soldiers, free of charge, and these were
stored in one part of the library. Mrs. Fowle (then
Miss Rumsey) would frequently go to the l^avy
Yard after them with her ambulance, and ride back
perched on the top of the load.
Knowing that there would be urgent need, and
fearful suffering, she determined to go to the second
battle of Bull Run ; so taking a load of supplies and
some four hundred loaves of bread, she and Mr.
Fowle started in the ambulance. Having no Gov-
ernment pass it was a hazardous undertaking, and
she experienced some difliculty in getting through
OUR ARMY NURSES. 75
the lines. The last guard peremptorily refused to let
her go any farther; when, springing from the ambu-
lance, she fell on her knees before him and begged
her way through. Thus Avhile Miss Dix and her
faithful nurses were detained three miles away, she
was inside the lines and ready for action. AYhen
almost on the battlefield they came to a little negro
cabin, and resolved to nse it for a hospital. It was a
tiny affair, but on o])ening the door they found that
it Av^as already occupied. A terrified crowd of negroes
had sought shelter there. Almost wild with fear,
they could scarcely obey the order " Be oif," but
were soon on their way to Washington. Their
prej)arations had not been made any too quickly,
for now the wounded men began to arrive. The
little cabin would hold about fifty, and as Mr. Fowle
did what he could for one, he was removed, and an-
other took his place. When the stores had all been
distributed, Mrs. Fowle determined to go in and help
care for the wounded. Just as she stepped inside
she glanced down. The fioor was completely hid-
den with blood. She covered her face Avith her
hands and turned away, overpowered for a moment
by the thought of Avalking through that Avarm human
blood. Then came a sti'ong reaction; then no fear of
shrinking from duty : she firmly entered, and helped
to bind up those fearful Avounds until the close of
that famous Sunday night Avhen the army retreated.
Only two men died during the day that they cared
for, — one whose name and regiment were unknown,
the other from Ncav York. But though death was
76 OUR ARMY NURSES.
not common, there were other scenes as fearful.
Once as she was washing the wounds in a pail of
water thick with blood, some soldiers begged for it
to drink : the Avater they used had to be carried over
two miles.
Mrs. Fowle carries a scar on her face, — a relic of
war times, — and its story defines her whole attitude
during the RebelHon: a large carbuncle, the re-
sult of blood-poisoning, while washing wounds on the
battlefield. At last the doctors said it must be
lanced. Having a horror of a knife, and with
nerves already quivering from the sights around
her, she did not feel equal to the ordeal. Still
knowing it must be done, she said, "Let me go over
to the Judiciary Hospital and see the boys who have
had their legs and arms amputated, and I can bear
it." A chair was placed in one end of the ward, and
calmly seating herself after looking for a moment at
the long rows of cots, she told the surgeon to go on.
These scenes have been selected at random from
among the every-day experiences of her three years'
service. In closing, I will again quote from a news-
paper of that period.
" At the Patent Office Hospital last May a soldier
lay on his dying bed; he was a mere boy, only seven-
teen years of age, from the State of ^ew York.
Typhoid fever had brought him low, and then con-
sumption marked him for its victim, and day by day
he wasted, growing weaker and weaker, until at last
he could only whisper. The dear little fellow was
OUR ARMY NURSES. -J-!
conscious he was about to die, and was prepared to
go. A young lady of this city, who spends all her
time in labors of love for the sick and wounded
soldiers, took a special interest in his case, and at
the twilight hour she would often visit him, and at
his request her sweet voice would be heard at his
bedside, singing to him of " Jesus " or " Heaven."
" One evening just as the sun had set she foinid him
failing rapidly ; he wanted to hear a hymn, and whis-
pered, ^Sing, " JS'earer Home."' It was a favorite,
beginning thus, —
' One sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o'er and o'er.'
and Tommy liked to hear it set to the sweet tune
of ^Dennis.' Under such touching circumstances it
was difficult to sing; the tears must flow, and the
utterance be choked; but the lady tried, and there
surrounded by a little band of his soldier friends, and
faithful nurse. Miss Lawrence, of Albany, IS^. Y., she
sang the first, second, and third verses, — then
stopped, for a great change was taking place in
Tommy; he was dying; he was Agoing home,' — was
leaving ^his cross of heavy grief, to wear a starry
crown.' 'Twas a scene that all present will never
forget.
"Some weeks later the hospital was closed, and
opened again in September. A few Sabbaths ago
the same lady, standing where the soldier died, sang,
by request, a little ballad composed by Mr. Fowle in
memory of Tommy Reese. A large audience heard
it, and not a dry eye could be seen."
78 OUR ARMY NURSES.
THE DYING SOLDIER BOY.
Tune, Annie Laurie. Bj John A. Fowle.
Sing me a song before I go,
Said the dear and dying boy :
" Nearer Home " is the one I love ;
Oh, sing of heavenly joy !
Sing, for I'm going home.
Over the crystal sea ;
I'm going to join the angel throngs,
And spend eternity.
With faint and trembling voice we sang
Of laying my burden down ;
We sang tlie sweet, sweet words,
Wearing my starry crown.
And then the soldier smiled,
As his spirit soared above :
He left his cross of heavy grief,
To spend a life of love.
Brave boy, we mourn your fate.
Your life was noblv given ;
Far from home, and far from friends,
Y"ou gave up earth for heaven.
No stone may mark the spot
Where our soldier boy is laid.
But in our hearts he has a place, —
A spot in memory made.
Our country mourns for heroes brave.
Who died to save our land ;
Our hearts, — how oft they bleed
For many a noble band.
But at their hallowed graves
We all shall Pilgrims be ;
We'll shed a tear for those who've died
For Right and Liberty.
Mi'w. Fowle now resides at 337 Boston Street,
Dorchester, Mass.
80
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY PRINGLE.
J WAS born in Columhus, Ohio, Jan. 11, 1833.
My maiden name was Mary Breckel. When
the war broke ont I was Hving in Keoknk,
Iowa, and while at church one Sunday, vohm-
teers were called for to go into the hosjjital at Quincy,
111., and the next day I started alone. Upon my arri-
val I was introduced to Miss Orland, and went with
her to Hospital No. 1, as her assistant, by appointment
of Dr. Stanton. After al)ont a month I was trans-
ferred to ^o. 2, as superintendent. I had been there
about a year when I heard that my brother was sick
in Columbus. I went to see him, and while there a
hospital was organized on Broad Street, and I went
as superintendent. I l)ecaine sick from overwork,
and had to leave the service July, 1863.
It would give me much pleasure to hear from any
of the 'Mjoys in blue," who knew me while in oui
country's service.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Mary Pringle.
Chillicothe, Livingston Co , Mo.
82
OUR ARMY NURSES.
«ev5.*-a,:^
^it
-Jm
s
DR. NANCY M. HILL.
EAIS'CY M. HILL, daughter of William and
Harriet (Swan) Hill, was born in West Cam-
bridge (now Arlington and Belmont), Mass.
Her forefathers were in the battles of Lex-
ington, West Cambridge, and Bunker Hill.
She was educated in the public schools at West
Cambridge, and at Mount Holyoke Seminary, South
Hadley, Mass.
There was a great call for educated w omen to go as
nurses, during the War of the Rebellion, in the hospi-
tals at Washington. Ladies from Cambridge, Boston,
and other places offered their services at Armory
Square Hosi)ital, under Dr. Bliss, who was surgeon
in charge. These ladies were specially appointed by
Surgeon-General Barnes.
There was a vacancy in Ward F in this hospital,
and Miss Hill was summoned. She went in April,
1863, and remained until August, 1865, after the
close of the war.
The pay of the volunteer nurses was to go into a
hospital fund, to buy extras for the soldiers, which
Government did not provide.
Armory Square Hospital was a barrack hospital of
eleven buildings, besides tents for the convalescents,
capable of holding a thousand men. Each lady had
charge of a ward under a doctor. There were fifty-
two beds in each w^ard, but often extra cots were
84 OUR ARMY NURSES.
added. This hospital was nearest the boat-landing
and the railroad depot, and received the worst cases.
They were often brought all the way from the boat
on stretchers, as they could not stand the jar of the
ambulances.
AVhen the battles of the Wilderness were going
ou, all hospital supplies and sanitary stores had been
sent to the front, and there w^ere none in Washington.
Miss Hill wrote to her mother about it, and she had
the letter read next morning in the four churches in
Arlington. Immediately the congregations were dis-
missed, and all went home, to returu to the Town Hall
bringing table-cloths, and linen, and cotton sheets, —
the best they had. The ladies and gentlemen worked
all day long makiug and rolling bandages and pick-
iug lint. Before niue o'clock that night two large
dry-goods boxes, the size of an upright piano, were
on their way to Washington by Adams Express, Avho
took them fi-ee of charge.
The Soldiers' Aid Societies of both Arlington and
Belmont were very generous in their contributions.
As fast as they sent boxes away, they began to fill
others to send, — and so it was with all the volunteer
nurses; friends at the I^orth sent bountiful supplies
of whatever w^as needed.
After General Grant took command of the Army
of the Potomac, the hospitals were crowded with
severely wounded men. He followed up the foe so
fast it was blow upon blow. Every day the wounded
came, and every day men who could be moved with
safety, were sent to Baltimore or Philadelphia, to
OUR ARMY NURSES.
85
make room for others. It was a common thing to
count forty amputation cases at a time, when looking-
up and down the ward that summer, and so it con-
tinued until the end of the war.
After the hospital closed, Dr. Bliss advised Miss
Hill to study medicine.
Acting on this suggestion she began reading under
Dr. Marie Zakryewska, the Alma Mater of all lady
physicians of Boston and vicinity. Afterwards she
became a medical student at the New England Hos-
pital for Women and Children, at Roxbury, Mass.
She was graduated at the medical department of the
Michigan University, at Ann Arbor, in the year 1874.
She then came to Dubuque, Iowa, and opened an
office, and has been in active practice of medicine
ever since.
Her address is Dr. Nancy Hill, Dubuque, Iowa.
86
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY A. LOOMIS.
5Y two and a half years of service during the
war I ^hall not soon forget. The privations
and snfferings of onr brave and noble boys
will always linger in my memory.
At the time the war broke ont my home was in
Coldwater, Mich. I entered the service with my
husband sometime in May, 1861, as a volunteer nurse,
and was not under authority of any one e:xcept the
surgeon. Later I was appointed matron of Hospital
'No. 13, Kashville, Tenn., and remained there from
September, 1862, until January, 1863. This hospital
was in chai-ge of H. J. Herrick, M.D., of the 17th
Kegiment Ohio Volunteers. I then went to No. 20,
Nashville, and stayed until May, as matron under
J. R. Goodwin, M.D., surgeon in charge.
I was also in a hospital at Murfreesboro, Tenn., and
at Huntsville, Ala.
In all, I was in hospitals about a year; the remainder
of the time I was in camp or on the march with my
husband, Capt. George W. Van Pelt, and I always
found plenty of work to do there. My husband fell
in the battle of Chickamauga, in September, 1863,
and in November I left the service.
Mary A. Loomis.
Burr Oak, St. Joseph Co., Micu.
88
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. EMMA L. SIMONDS.
mS. EMMA L. SIM0:N'DS was appointed as
a nurse by Mrs. Iloge and Mrs. Liverniore,
under the authority of Miss D. L. Dix, on
^^^^^ August 26, 1863, and was assigned to work
in Memphis, Tenn., as chief nurse of Ward A in the
Gayoso Hospital; Dr. F. Noel Burke, surgeon in
charge.
She went from De Kalb, 111., soon after our mar-
riage, to Memphis, where I was on duty as an army
surgeon. United States Army, in Jackson Plospital.
At the close of the war she returned with me to
my home at Iowa Falls. In 1873 we moved to Fay-
etteville, Ark., where she resumed practice as a pro-
fessional nurse; which work she continued untd
January, 1892. She died in May, 1893. I think
she was the most unselfish, most charitable in her
opinions and in her demeanor toward others, the
most forgiving in spirit, and the most truthful in
all her expressions, of any woman I have ever
known.
Yours truly,
J. F. SiMONDS.
Washington, D. C
90
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARGARET HAYES.
Q:N' the 17th day of February, 1863, I left my
home in Mendota, 111., for Chicago. Arriving
there we went to the Sanitary Commission
rooms, and were cared for by Mrs. Livermore,
who gave lis onr commissions, put us up a lunch,
gave us each a pillow and a small comfortable, as
there were no sleeping cars in those days, procured
transportations, and started us that same evening for
Memi^his, Tenn. Another lady went w^ith me, who
was as anxious as I to do something for the "boys
in blue." AYe an-ived safely, and I was immediately
assigned to the Adams General Hospital, ^o. 2
(which had just been opened to receive the sick
and wounded from Arkansas) , in A\ ard 2, Room B,
where there were seventy-two men. I think the
ward master was one of the kindest men I ever
knew. Poor fellow ! He went through the war, and
returned to his home with the regiment, but only to
die soon after his arrival. There was a medicine
man and a wound-dresser, and six nurses were
detailed from among the convalescents. My especial
duty Avas to cook the extra diet, see that the patients
received it, Avait upon those who could not feed them-
selves, look after the comfort of all, and, in fact, make
myself generally useful. A part of the time I had
two wards. The boys appreciated whatever I did for
them very much, and presented me with a valuable
92
OUR ARMY NURSES.
gold watch, which I still hold as one of iny choicest
treasures.
I remained at the Adams until January, 18(3.">, when
I v.as transferred to the Gayoso, and was discharged
from there at the close of the war.
I often think of my "boys," and wonder where they
all ai'e. The old ones are mustered out, the young-
are now gra-y and old, and would not know me or I
them if we should meet. I have even changed my
name. I was Mrs. Maggie MeseroU then ; the}^ called
me " Sister Mao-o-ie."
My first ward surgeon was Dr. Taylor, of Cam-
bridge, Mass. ; next. Dr. Cole, of St. Louis; then came
Dr. Lard, and Di". Iveenon, who died while in charge,
succeeded by Dr. Study.
At the Gayoso were Dr. Burke and Dr. Stold, Dr„
Joe Lynch, and Ma j. B. J. D. Irvin.
I could tell many incidents if I could see to wi-ite
them, but I am so blind that I have not been al)le to
read since 1882. '
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Margaret Hayes,
South Los Angeles, Cal.
94
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ELIZABETH B. NICHOLS.
JN^ beginning to narrate the scenes of my army life
I will state that I first entered the service at the
request of my husband, who wished me to join
him in Chicago, where his regiment had been
sent on exchange, after having been taken prisoner
at Harper's Ferry. My husband and many others
were sick, so I started with as little delay as possible
on the 17th of October, 1862, at about 2 o'clock p. m.,
and arrived in Chicago at 2 A. m. It was three miles
to Camp Douglas, where our soldiers were quartered,
and I rode that distance in the street cars. Alone in
the darkness I found the gate, but it was closed. I
rapped, and heard the "Halt! Who comes?" I gave
the guard my name, told my business, and asked for
admission, only to be told that he could not let me in.
I must wait for the officer who w^ould change the
guards. But when he came he told me to stop at
some hotel until morning, and then return. I replied
that I was a stranger, and did not know where to go
at that time of night. It seemed so hard to send me
away that they at length admitted me, although it
was against the rules : telling me not to speak aloud,
they conducted me to the hospital, inquired for Still-
man ^N^ichols, and, leading me to his cot, asked him if
I was his wife. Knowing how tired I must be, he
soon asked them to find some place for me to rest.
They led me to the baggage room, gave me a couple
95
96 OUR ARMY NURSES.
of blankets and a pillow, and I was soon asleep in
spite of my strange snrroundings. The call of the
drnm awoke me the next moi-ning, and after break-
fast I reported to the snrgeon in charge, and entered
npon my work. As soon as my husband became
convalescent he was detailed with two others to
assist me; the work was also made easier by Chris-
tian ladies who bronght baskets of provisions. It
was good to see how eager the "boys" were to get
a share of the contents of those baskets.
At last we sent the sick to the City Hospital, to be
cared for until they were able to join their regiments;
then we broke camp and started for Washington, the
journey requiring four days and three nights. Ke-
fi'eshments were served at several places on tlie road.
Once some ladies asked me why I was there, and
when I told them that ni}^ husband and I were nurses,
they praised my patriotism.
We stayed in Bahimore about three hours, and
while there our colonel received sealed orders for the
rec>iment to 2:0 at once to Texas : but before we could
embark the oi'der was countermanded, and we Avere
ordered to Washington, whei-e we arrived at day-
light, and marched to the " Soldiers' Kest." It being
the Sabbath, services were conducted here by Chap-
lain Brown.
From there we marched to Fairfix Seminary,
crossing the long l^i'idge. It was a beautiful place,
a large brick building, with shaded lawn, where I
saw the roses in bloom at Christmas time. Here
we camped, and a large empty room was taken for
OUR ARMY NURSES. 97
a hospital, and as we had oni* stores with iis we did
very well.
While there I had the pleasure of attending a
darkey wedding. There were about one hundred
freed slaves present. A colored minister officiated,
but as he could not read, our officer of the guard
stood behind him and read the service out of the
Episcopal Prayer Book, and the minister pronounced
them man and wife. Then the bride and groom led
the way to another room, wliere a large table was
spread with as nice a supper as one need to eat.
After the supper came the wedding dance. Two
fiddlers furnished the music; and such music as I had
not been used to hearing, to say the least. The party
broke up about morning, all pronouncing it a merry
occasion.
After our regiment had gone to Stockade Camp,,
my husband and I had to stay nearly two weeks with
nine sick men. The only facilities we had for cook-
ing were a coffee-pot, one mess-pan, a spider, and a
fireplace. But we got along some way, and the time
came when I started in an ambulance to join the regi-
ment. I found a great many sick, but we got them
into a hospital tent as soon as we could, and soon felt
more at home, though one died that evening, and
through the night my husband watched by the body,
while, wrapped in my blanket, I slept on a pile of straw.
Soon there were many sick with typhoid fever and
other maladies, and I have passed through scenes
that I shall never foi'get. Often and often have I
stood by a dying soldier to hear his last words. I
98 OUR ARMY NURSES.
had a habit of gomg through the ward to say good-
night and speak a cheerful word, for I often knew
that some woukl die before another day.
One morning as I was about to enter the hospital
the doctor met me with the dreadful news that the
small-pox had broken out, but through the providence
of God I was spared. There were eighteen cases, and
only one died.
After a time we were ordered to Centreville, Va. ;
the regiment went first. We sent our stores to the
General Hospital, then boarded a freight car; the
cook, three doctors, my husband and myself com-
pleted the load of freight. We were in the last car,
the one in front being loaded with hay. Sometime in
the night, when we could not see where we were, we
were left behind. I rested quite contentedly sitting
on the car floor, and in the morning an engine was
sent for us, so we reached our regiment at last.
I remained there two months, then a\ ent home on
leave of absence; meanwhile our regiment was ordered
to Gettysburg, so I did not return. Then my hus-
band was very sick, and was cared for eight months
in Philadelphia. I worked my board while there, so
as to be near him, but the " Sisters " were nursing him.
As soon as he recovered sufficiently he was ordered
to Washington, where he was detailed as cook in the
Invalid Corps Camp, and he sent for me to help him.
I stayed there one year and four months; then my
husband was discharged, and we went home.
Elizabeth B. Nichols.
Clyde, New York
100
OUR ARMY NURSES.
M
^
M. ALICE FRUSH.
fHE^ the war broke out I was living in a little
town called Grcencastle, about eleven miles
from Chanibersburg-, Penn. My father was
"=^^- a great Union man, and threw our house
open as headquarters for the officers. The generals
quartered there were Dana, Smith, and Fitshugh,
and they had their staffs. We did all we could for
the comfort of the soldiers, and when the call came
for nurses, I was one to volunteer. I served three
years ; first in the hospital at Hagerstown, Md., then
at Greencastle. I left to become the wife of Sergt.
M. L. Frush, of Company B, 6th Yirginia Cavalry.
During my hospital service I was on the battle-
fields of Antietam and Gettysburg, after the fight,
helping the wounded and caring for the dying. Mau}^
of the injured men were carried to our little town of
Greencastle, and we sisters did what we could for
them, picking lint, knitting stockings, etc. I was then
Mary Alice Smith, and but eighteen jenvs of age. I
served under Gen. David Detrich, in Greencastle, but
do not remember who was surgeon in charge at
Hagerstown. When I was not engaged in the hos-
pitals I was out with an aml)ulance, gathering
provisions for the soldiers. My father had a large
warehouse, and we fed them there.
Upon my marriage, in December, 1864, I left the
service, but was not discharged, so I have no papers.
102
OUR ARMY NURSES.
One little incident in closing. When Lee's army
passed through Greencastle, en route for Gettysburg,
my sister Sadie and I waved the American flag in
front of them, and were heartily cheered by the
""boys in gray."
Yours in F., C. and L.,
M. Alice Feush.
222 Scott Street, Youngstown, Ohio.
t *-^
, 0- W^
r ■ '\
J
"^p
»\r^
■i '
M,
AFTER THE BATTLE.
104
OUR ARMY NURSES.
J
MRS. PAMELIA REID.
fHEX the war broke out my home was in
Farmingtoii, Iowa. T began my nursing be-
fore I left home to go to tlie liospital. It
'-^-^ happened in this way: —
One da}^ I heard that a wounded soldier was at the
station, too sick to proceed any farther on his way
home. I had him carried to my house, and nursed
him until he was nmch improved in health, when his
brother came to accompany him the remainder of the
journey.
My next experience was with my husband, who
was wounded at the battle of Belmont, and I went to
care for him until he needed me no longer.
After the battle of Shiloh, I saw in a newspaper
that the Estes House had been taken for a hospital
and female nurses were wanted. It was ten o'clock
A. M. Avhen I read the notice, and at four p. m. I was
on my way, and the next morning commenced my
duties under the direction of Mrs. Wittenmeyer.
I served at the Estes House one year and a half,
with the exception of a few weeks leave of absence
to go to my husband, who was wounded again. At
the end of that time a hospital was established at the
Medical College, and I served there until my health
failed.
Yours truly,
Mks. Pamelfa Reid.
Georgetown, Mass.
105
106
OUR ARMY NURSES.
JULIA S. TOMPKINS.
^Y war record is much shorter than it would
have been had I been able to carry out the
earnest desire of my heart. From the time
^^-^ the first call for volunteer nurses was issued,
my heart burned with patriotic longings to do some-
thing for our country and the dear old flag; and why
not? My ancestors on both sides were descendants of
the Puritan and Revolutionary stock. My husband
was at the front, and I kept writing for his consent
to go where I could help the sick and wounded ; but
as we had a little boy, and no one with whom to leave
him, he would not hear to any such proposition until
he was left in a hospital with most of his regiment, as
they were returning to the front from Camp Douglas,
where they had been taken prisoners.
After he became convalescent I visited him at
Benton Barracks, where he had been assigned to
take charge of the kitchens and procure supplies.
Again my very soul was stirred with longing to do
something for the patient sufferers, and I begged to
stay. When the soldiers learned of my desire, they
added their entreaties to mine, as they had become
very much attached to our little boy, who took the
place of those "left behind," and enlivened many
lonely hours. My husband at last consented, and I
received my appointment. I went on duty in Ward
A, Amphitheatre Building, at Benton Barracks,
where I served until prostrated by a nervous fever,
107
108 OUR ARMY NURSES.
caused by my sympathy for the " brave boys who
wore the bhTe," who were never heard to utter a com-
phiint, no matter how badly they Avere Avounded or
how much they were suffering, l^ut were ever i-eady
to expi'ess gratitude for all we did for them.
On my recovery I was placed in charge of the linen
room, and served in that department until I left the
service.
Dr. Ira Russell was in charge of the hospitals when
I went there, but was relieved by Dr. John H. Grove,
August 10, 18(33. He remained until Fel)ruary 12,
1861, when Dr. Russell returned. He was still there
when I left the work.
AVhen my husband was discharged fi'om active
field service, on account of disabilities, there was no
one with whom to leave my boy, and I had to request
that my connection with the hospital be severed, as I
could not look after my child and do my duty as a
nurse. My request was rehictantly granted, and I
returned to my home.
One little incident connected with my work there
gave me much pleasure. Miss Emily E. Parsons was
^^ Superior ]^urse " at our hospital. My sister's son
had been wounded at Yicksburg, and was very low.
She had him placcid in my section of the ward, where
he would be under my immediate care. I could not l)nt
feel complimented, as no nurse was allowed to be on
duty in a ward where she had relatives, or even former
friends, lest favoritism should be shown. She never
had reason to feel that her confidence was misplaced.
Julia S. Tompkins.
418 2d Avenuk, Clinton, Iowa.
110
OUR ARMY NURSES.
BELLE CODDINGTON.
1^ EFORE taking up my pen to write this sketch
l(\ I cHmbed to the top of the Hbrary, and taking
^^ down a hirge, old Latin book, uniquely bound
in hog-skin, and printed three and a half cen-
turies ago, I turned its musty, though well-preserved
pages, and found in a large official envelope another
old and highly valued relic, — the commission of an
army nurse. It reads as follows : —
Office of Western Sanitary Commission,
St. Louis, March 19, 1864.
Mrs. A. Tannehill, having furnished satisfactory evidence of her
qualifications for the position of " nurse" in the employment of the
Medical Department, U. S. A., is approved.
James E. Yeatman,
Agent for Miss D. L. Dix.
Assigned to duty at Benton Barracks, General Hospital, St.
Louis, March 19, 1864, upon application of Ira Russell, surgeon in
charge.
James E. Yeatman,
Agent for Miss D. L. Dix.
Approved: Dr. Miles, Surgeoi), U. S. A., Medical Director.
In the same envelope was another commission
dated at Philadelphia, June 1, 1865, and signed by
Geo. H. Stuart, chairman of the United States Chris-
tian Commission. As I glanced over these old
l^apers, ni}' thoughts went back of the dates upon
them to the strange events that influenced my life,
111
112 OCR ARMY NURSES.
resulting in my becoming an army nnrse, and a dele-
oate of the United States Christian Commission.
I thonght of my wedding day, when I stood at the
altar and took upon myself the sweet and solemn
marriage vows; of the five short months of un-
alloyed happiness that followed; then the enlisting
of my young husband in the service of his country,
— how hard I tried to be brave as I clung to him in
parting; then of the eagerly-looked-for letters, — and
at last the one that never came, but in its stead a
message in a strange hand telling me of my hus-
band's death, and burial near Yicksburg, where his
regiment had been sent to reinforce General Gi-ant.
To a true woman there is no sweeter word than wife,
no sadder one than AvidoAV. In less than a year I
had realized in my experience the meaning of both.
The deep feeling of the heart had been touched by
the hand of Love, the tenderest feeling by the hand
of Death; and.it is the experience of sorrow that
prepares us to minister to others.
After my husband's death there came an intense
desire to do something for the sick and wounded
soldiers in the hospitals. But not knowing how to
proceed to get a position as nurse, I resumed my
former occupation of school-teaching. What had
once been a dehght, now seemed irksome and dis-
tasteful. My first term of school had closed, when I
met a Mrs. Conrad, who had been engaged in the
Keokuk, Iowa, hospital. She told me to correspond
with Mrs. AVittenmeyer, who would give me the
information necessary to secure a position in that
OUR AR3iy NURSES. 113
hospital. I wrote to her at once, and received a
reply telling me to apply to James E. Yeatman, and
inclose testimonials of good moral character, signed
by my pastor and the ladies of the Aid Society
where I lived.
FolloAving her directions I soon had a letter froni
Mr. Yeatman, but, alas, there was no opening at that
time; but he informed me that as soon as more ladies
were needed he would let me know.
Months passed in anxious waiting. A winter term
of school was begun and finished, and then came the
long-looked for commission, and with it Government
transportation. I do not suppose an officer in the
army, from general down to second lieutenant, ever
received his commission with greater delight or
enthusiasm. Little time was spent in preparing for
my journey, for I was anxious to get at the work,
and only a fcAv days elapsed from the time I received
my commission until I had reported for duty where
I had been assigned.
The Benton Barracks Hospital was one of the
largest in the West, and included the Amphitheatre
and other buildings in the fair grounds of the St.
Louis Agricultural Society. In this large hospital
there w^ere often two thousand patients. Dr. Russell,
of JSTatick, Mass., the surgeon in charge, was every
way fitted for his responsible position. One histo-
rian in referring to him called him ''that able surgeon
and earnest philanthropist." I shall ever cherish his
memory. Only a few years ago, and a short time
before his death, I received from him the Idndest of
114 OUR ARMY NURSES.
letters and a request that I send him my photograph,
and all other niir>^es I might ha^'e in my possession,
to be put on file in the archives of the Loyal Legion.
I am sorry to say I neglected to send them. His
home was in Winchendon, Mass., at the time of his
death.
Benton Barracks, when I Avas there, comprised a
promiscuous throng, — Avhite and colored soldiers,
refugees, contrabands, teachers, ministers, officers'
families, etc. It was especially interesting to me to
watch the colored soldiers on dress parade. They
realized there was a vast difference betAveen slavery
and the overseer's lash, and freedmen in the United
States uniform, standing shoulder to shoulder with
the men who had fought to make them free. It was
a little amusing, too, to see a colored soldier march-
ing a white comrade to the guardhouse, as was
sometimes the case. They sank to the depths of
humiliation themselves AAdien detailed to do duty in
the refugee hospitals, for they scorned the " ])o' Avhite
trash." In the hospitals they receiA^ed the same care-
ful nursing, and everywhere the same humane treat-
ment, as the Avhite soldier. Books had been furnished
them, and it Avas Avonderful to see hoAV eager they
Avere to learn. I Avas deeply touched one day when
one of them, an old man, drew from the pocket of
his blue coat a Testament, and bowing politely to me,
said, "Please, Missus, shoAV me de place Avhere it
tells 'bout de many mansions, and Jesus preparin' de
way."
The day of my arrival at the hospital I Avas met
OUR ARMY NURSES. 115
b}' Miss Emily Parsons, superintendent of the nurses.
She was one peculiarly gifted and endowed for such
a Avork, and it could be truly said of her, '^ She
opened her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue
was the law of kindness." Her name recalls precious
recollections, and I woidd offer this tribute to her
memory. From her I received instructions in regard
to my appointment and my duties as matron of Ward
D, General Hospital. The next morning she opened
the door, and following her, I stood for the first time
" In the ward of the whitewashed wall,
Where the sick and tlie dying lay."
She soon retired, and T entered upon my work.
The duty of ward matron, as specified, was to at-
tend to the special diet of the weaker patients, to see
that the wards were kept in order, to minister to the
wants of the i)atients, and to give them words of
good cheer, both by reading and conversation, and
to assist them in con-espondence with their friends at
home. Before I had made the rounds in my ward
the first morning, my coui-age was put to the test.
I approached a cot, and talking with a sick man found
he had the small-pox. His cot was only a few feet
from my room, which joined the ward. The partition
was not a plastered one, but boards placed on end,
barn fashion, with sti-ips nailed over the cracks. The
air was virtually the same in both ward and nurse's
room. Could I lie down and slee[), knowing that
every breath I took was freighted with this terrible
contagion? I felt somewhat relieved, however, when,
116 OUR ARMY NURSES.
before the day was over, the patient was removed to
the pest hospital. Poor fellow! I soon heard of his
death. I became accustomed to disease in its vari-
ous forms, and even small-pox patients were attended
with as much care while they remained in the ward,
as any others. Though I did escape the small-pox, I
could not resist the measles, but had the orthodox
United States type of the malady. One thing I
could not become accustomed to, and a heart-sick
feeling came over me always when I saw the under-
taker's cari-iage pass along with its load of cotRns
going to the National Cemetery ; and as I have stood
ill those cemeteries and looked over the acres and
acres of graves, as close as they could be made, where
were lying our boys in blue, my feelings were inde-
scribable.
Appreciation is grateful to all, and the army
nurse received it without measure from those to
whom she daily ministered. To hear a soldiei' say
as he bade her good-bye to join his regiment, after
having been nursed back to health," You have saved
my life," was the richest compensation she could
have received.
We had in connection with the hospital one of
those special Diet Kitchens, originated by Mrs. Wit-
tenmeyer, which furnished delicate articles of food so
grateful to the sick. It was a deliglit to me, aftei*
having gone the rounds with the surgeon of my
ward, to go to this kitchen with my ap]:)roved lists
and see them filled, then hear the poor boys say as
they tasted the tempting food, " This makes me think
OCrR ARMY NURSES. 117
of home." It was the hands of Miss Phcsbe Allen, of
Washington, Iowa, that served ns so faithfnlly in the
Diet Kitchen for awhile. Then we fokled those
hands to rest, and wept tears of sorrow at her un-
timely death.
As the Benton Barracks was so far i-emoved from
the seat of war, there Avas very little of an exciting
character while I was there. The work of one day
was much like that of every other. Once General
Price threatened us, and every soldier who was able,
in barracks and hospital, was ordered to sleep on his
arms. I remember well that night. After "taps"
had been sounded and lights wei'e out I went to my
window, and looking out into the night, I wondered
if the rebels would really come. After a while I
heard in the distance a sound like the tramping of
horses' feet and the rumbling of wagon wheels, and I
expected every moment that the entire force would
be called out to attack General Price and his army.
All remained quiet as usual. Still I listened, and
soon I could see in the moonlight a train of wagons
approaching. It was an enemy in very truth, — only
loads of sour commissary bread.
In March, 1865, I was transferred to the Nashville
Hospital, where Dr. Russell had gone, and Avas serving
as surgeon in charge. Before leaving Benton Bar-
racks, the soldiers in the ward where I had been for
nearly a year presented me with an elegant silk dress
pattern, in token of their good will.
My work at Nashville was much as it had been be-
fore. Many of the patients had been in the engage-
118 OUR ARMY NURSES.
ment between Thomas and Hood. It was simply
wonderful to see how bravely these men bore their
misfortnnes. One who had lost an arm was rejoicing-
over the fact that it was not a leg; while one who
hobbled abont on crntches thonght he was very for-
tunate indeed not to have lost an arm, or, worse, his
head. A colored soldier being asked by a visitor
what was the matter with him, replied, ^'De doctah
says I have de dispensation of de heart." He meant
palpitation.
There was a large honse with beautiful grounds
near by, — confiscated property, — and we were al-
lowed to gather the flowers that grew so abundantly.
I remember how we would arrange the tricolors, red,
white, and blue, upon the little square stands that
stood by each soldier's cot, not only bringing cheer
to the sick, but calling forth the admiration of the
inspecting officers.
It was while I was at ^N'ashville that the exciting
news of the surrender of Lee's army was received.
The cannon thundered forth from Fort IN^eighly until
the ground seemed to shake beneath our feet. Then
while the air was still vibrating with the echoes and
the soldiers' jubilant shouts, a telegram announced
the assassination of President Lincoln.
In June I was recalled to St. Louis, to enter the
work of the Christian Commission. The Sanitary
Commission was about closing its work. The war
was ended, but months must elapse before the soldier
could return home. The Christian Commission, in-
stead of disbanding, brought all their resources to the
OUR ARMY' NURSES. 119
great work of supplying the soldiers until they were
finally mustered out.
I left Nashville in July, and returning to Benton
Barracks I entered the old Amphitheatre again, —
the apartments occupied as the headquarters of the
Christian Commission. How distinctly the room
comes before me. Along the beams overhead were
the words, ""Mother, Home, Heaven."" Scripture
mottoes were on the walls. Long tables extended
across the room, where soldiers could come to write
letters, or read books and papers. On a little plat-
form was a place usually occupied by a lady dele-
gate of the Commission, and above this was the
motto, '^Let woman's influence be felt in behalf of
her country.*" Here one of the ladies was usually
found with busy hands distributing supplies to those
who came into the reading room. The badge she
wore was a safe passport to the hospital, barracks, or
camp. She worked for God and humanity, and
wherever she went the blessing of the soldiers fol-
lowed her.
The work of mustering out was going on as rapidly
as possible; and as the mighty armies melted awa}^
and our soldiers went from camp to home, the de-
mand for workers grew less. At last there came a
day when we were needed no longer. Our work
among the soldiers was done. December 3, 1865, I
left St. Louis, and reached my home at Troy, Iowa, in
time to celebrate my twenty-third birthday, which
occurred the same month, having been gone almost
two years.
120 OUR ARMY NURSES.
One year after my return I was married to Rev.
E. H. Coddington. When the war broke out he was
a student at the Iowa Weslevan University, at Mt.
Pleasant. At the first call to arms he enlisted in
Company F, 14th Iowa Infantry. At the battle of
Foi't Doiielson a rebel musket shot shattered his left
arm, rendering a shoulder-joint amputation necessary.
After being discharged and regaining sufficient
health, he entered college again. Then came the
call for more men, and again he enlisted in the ser-
vice of his countr}', and was commissioned Captain,
Comj^any II, •loth low a. Serving out his term, he
was dischai'ged, and entered college the third time,
and graduated w ith the class of 1866. The following
year he entered the ministr}^, and in December w^e
were married. Though he had not fully recovered
from the loss of his arm, and knew he never would,
yet he hoped his life might be spared long enough to
brinof to him the realization of some of his brigflit
hopes and aspiration. So with brave and happy
liearts we enjoyed the present, and planned foi* the
future.
Seven years of successful work in the ministry,
four years of mtense suffering, then came the end.
He w^as not, for God took him. Two little children
had preceded him to the heavenly home; two remained
to my care and love, — a son ten years old, a daugh-
ter five. I saw them grow to manhood and w oman-
hood, and graduate from the same college that
graduated their father.
My son entered journalism, but applied himself too
OUR ARMY NURSES. 121
closely to his work. Last May his health failed, and
his physician advised him to go to Colorado. In
^TsTovember I was called to Denver to see him die, and
I brought him home, and laid him beside his father.
When my daughter is not away teaching school she
is with me. But for her my life would be as lonely
and desolate as when I l)ecame an army nurse.
Belle Coddestgto^t.
Mt. Pleasant, Iowa.
Tlie life-blood that our father's gave
Still warms the firm and free.
Free as our eagle spreads his wings,
We own no tyrant's rod,
No master, but the king of kings.
No monarch, but our God !
— Mks, E. T. Daniels.
122 OUR ARMY NURSES.
THE LIVELY OLD LADY.
" By the fireside cozily seated,
With spectacles riding her nose,
The lively old lady is knitting
A wonderful pair of hose.
She pities the shivering soldier
Who is out in the pelting storm,
And busily plies her needles
To keep him hearty and w^arm.
" Her eyes are reading the embers,
But her heart is off to the war.
For she knows what tliose brave fellows
Are gallantly fighting for.
Her fingers as well as her fancy
Are cheering them on their way,
Who, under the good old banner,
Are saving their country to-day.
" She ponders how, in her childhood,
Her grandmother used to tell
The story of barefoot soldiers,
Who fought so long and well.
And the men of the Revolution
Are nearer her than us ;
And that, perhaps, is the reason
Why she is toiling thus.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 123
" She cannot shoulder a musket,
Nor ride with cavahy crew,
But, nevertheless, she is ready
T(j work for the boys who do.
Her heart may be larger and braver
Than his who is tallest of all ;
The work of her hands as important
As cash that buys powder and ball.
"And thus, while her quiet performance
Is being recorded in rhyme.
The tools in her tremulous fingers
Are running a race with Time.
Strange that four needles can form
A perfect triangular bound ;
And equally strange that their antics
Result in perfecting ' the round.'
" And now, while beginning ' to narrow,'
She thinks of the Maryland mud,
And wonders if ever the stocking
Will wade to the ankle in blood.
And now she is ' shaping the heel,'
And now she is ready ' to bind,'
And hopes if the soldier is wounded,
It never will be from behind.
"And now she is ' raising the instep,'
Now narrowing off at the toe.
And prays that this end of the worsted
May ever be turned to the foe.
She gathers the last of the stitches.
As if a new laurel were won ;
Now placing the ball in the basket.
Announces the stockinjr is done."
124
OUR ARMY NURSES.
'jji li^'iffTiriWMttf II
MRS. RUTH H. SINNOTTE.
J WAS commissioned by Mr. Yeatman, in St.
Louis, as nurse at large, and sent on board
the steamer "Imperial," a hospital boat plying
between St. Louis and Pittsburg Landing; Dr.
Gove surgeon iu charge, and Dr. Bixliy assistant sur-
geon. I remained on board the " Imperial " until the
Tennessee River had fallen so Ioav the boat could go no
farther, and went out of the hospital service. I was
then sent by the medical director on board the '^Ella,"
and remained on that boat until she went out of hos-
pital service, and became a ti'an sport boat.
Then Dr. Douglass, the medical director, sent me
to Monterey, in Tennessee, the receiving hospital of
Corinth battlefield, in charge of Dr. Eaton; I think
he was from ^ew York. While there I was sun-
struck, and on the third day Avas attacked with yellow
jaundice. I then obtained a furlough, and went
home to Illinois. As soon as able I reported to Gov-
ernor Yeates, who ordered me to go South with the
113th, or Board of Trade Regiment, Colonel Hoge.
The colonel put my name on the muster roll as matron
for three years, or to the close of the war. I went to
Memphis with the reghnent, and we encamped at
Camp Peabody, about two miles from the city.
AVhen they went on the TuLihoma I'aid I accom-
panied them, by particuhu" request of Colonel
Hoge. The fourth day, was sent with all the sick
126 OUR ARMY NURSES.
to Holly Springs, Mississippi. Was there a num-
ber of weeks, and l)efbre Bragg- took the place
was ordered to Meni])his; on the way was told
the troops had gone down the rivei', and General
"Wright advised nie to keep on down to the fleet.
I did so.
While with the Vicksbni-g fleet, one day I noticed
the boat I Avas on was drao<>ino: her hawser from
the tree where she had been fastened. I reported
to the captain. He said, ^'I know it.'' There was no
steam on, and we were drifting down the river. The
captain said we were going to Vicksburg, and were
only a half mile from the line between the two armies.
Among the sick was a captain of one of the com-
panies of the 113th Illinois Regiment. I immediately
went to him and reported the treachery on boaixl of
the boat. He could do nothing, as he was too ill to
raise his head. He swoi'e me, and gave me the neces-
sary signal. I went on the hurricane deck; no one
was there, no one on the pilot house. I gave the
signal as he told me. In a moment I saw it answ^ered.
Immediately the " Von Pool " came down and towed
the boat to the u})[)er end of the fleet, and pnt a stop
to our going to Vicksburg. All of the crew, from
the captain to the chambermaid, were so very angry
they would have killed me had they known I Avas
responsible for the change of programme.
AVe had several Avounded ofiicers among the load
of sick and disabled men on my first trip from Pitts-
burg Landing to St. Louis. Our transport Avas the
" Imperial.'' Each officer had an orderly to Avait upon
OUR ARMY NURSES. 127
him. The attendant of one, a colonel, came to me
and said, "Are you afraid of the colonel?" I replied
I was not. Then said he, " I wish you would see if
you can do anything with him, but I really fear he
will kill you." " Oh, no ; I will go : where is he ? " He
pointed the way, keeping well out of sight of the
officer. When I came to the stateroom he occupied
the door was ajar. I looked in and said, " Good
morning, Colonel." He answered, " What do you
want here?" "I came to see if you have had break-
fast." "1^0, and don't A\ ant any." But I said: ^^You
must eat something. I will see what I can get that
you may relish." I went to the kitchen, toasted a
slice of bread, poached an ^^^^ poured it over the
toast, made a bowl of chicken broth, and a cup of
green tea and apple jelly made up the breakfast. I
put it on a waiter with a white napkin (these things
were for officers only), went to his room, and said,
"ISTow see what of this you can eat." "Can't I get
rid of you? I wish I had something to throw at you,
but I have thrown everything I can get at that
Dutchman," meaning his attendant. I said, "You
must eat; there is no other way for you." "I will tip
over that cart of yours," and he made a spring toward
the tray. I said, " Sir, stop such pranks, and take
some of this food immediately." He then grabbed
the toast, crammed it all into his mouth, the broth
followed with a gulp, the tea and jelly in turn, all in
less time than I am telling you. I said to him, " That
was pretty good, wasn't it?" "Good enough."
" Will you eat more if I get it for you? " " I suppose
128 OUR ARMY NURSES.
I can if I must." I prepared the same amount. He
ate it all, using a knife and fork. I then asked why
he treated me so badly when I was only trying to
help him. He told me this story : " I am from
Marion County, 111. Was acknowledged to be the
richest man in the county. I raised a whole regiment
and equipped it. They chose me their colonel. I
had a wife and child, a little girl. I settled all my
business, made my will, appointed my wife adminis-
tratrix and guardian of my child. I took my regi-
ment, was accepted, and went to the front. As soon
as I was gone my W"ife sold everything I had and put
the money in the Confederate cause, took my child
and went to IN^ew Orleans, her former home. I was
in the battle of Pittsburg Landing; had my leg
shattered, and amputated at the hip. ISTow I have
lost my property, my wife and my child, lost my leg,
and what have I to live for? " I waited a moment,
then said, —
" You must live for the good that needs assistance,
For the bad that needs resistance, ,
For the future in the distance,
And the good that you can do."
He was all right to the end of the trip, and ate his
food as I gave it to him. He was left at St. Louis.
I think he was put into Benton Barracks. We went
back to Pittsburo- Landing- for another load of the
mano:led human freio^ht. On our return to St. Louis
I learned the colonel was dead, — had died because
he would not eat.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 129
On my second trip on the '"'" Imperial " my ward was
the cabin. One afternoon, having got my men made
comfortable for the night, I thought I would go to
the lower deck, and see what the conditions were
there. I heard the surgaon say to an attendant, "You
need not give him anything more; he won't live till
morning." I asked the doctor what his sickness was.
" He has the typhoid fever, and is now in the sink-
ing state." I said, "Can I do something for him?"
" You can do all you hke ; it will avail nothing." I
said, "Will you give me an order on the drugstore?"
(The bar of the boat was the drugstore.) He tore a
leaf from a memorandum book and wrote, "Let Mrs.
Sinnotte have whatever she wants from the drugstore."
I ordered a cup of brandy and some red pepper. I
mixed them, dipped cloths into the mixture and
bound them onto the bottoms of his feet, the palms of
his hands, and over the breast-bone. I tried a little
of the brandy to his lips. He could not swallow.
Then I tried a few drops of water. After a while the
water ran down his throat without strangling him;
then I got a little chicken broth, and alternated every
fifteen minutes, a few drops of bi-andy, then of the
broth. I stood over him for hours. After awhile I
noticed a change for the better. He could swallow,
and his pulse was quite perceptible. Finally it
beat as quick as I wanted to feel it. After mid-
night I became quite faint ; I had not eaten. I could
not stop for supper. I called the best nurse on the
boat to relieve me. I went to my quarters, but could
not undress. I unfastened my shoes, then fell into
130
OUR ARMY NURSES.
a faint, or dead sleep. Did not awake until the sun
called me, shining through the slats of my door. I
went to my patient. He looked up and smiled. The
doctor soon came along, and said, "Why, ain't he dead
yet?" The sick man whispered, " She," pointing to
me. The doctor asked me what I had done. I said,
" I attended to him as though he were my own, and in
our own home.'' I asked if I could have him in my
ward. He said, "" Yes; you deserve to have him."
When he got to St, Louis he walked the length of
the boat between two men, shook hands with me,
and said: " God bless you always. You have saved
me to my wife and five children."
Mrs. Ruth Helena Sinnotte.
132
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ELIZABETH S. WARD.
,1
I
J LEFT m}" home in South Bristol, AYis., Septem-
ber 22, 1864, for Louisville, Ivy. My first
period of service was in Foundry Transfer
Hospital of that place, under Surgeons Prescott
and Phelps; where I remained until January 28,
1865, when I left under orders for Nashville, Tenn.
I was the first woman in charge of the light Diet
Kitchen in Wilson Colored Hospital, and served there
under Surgeon Kussell, until I was taken danger-
ously ill with typhoid fever about the 25th of March,
from which I recovered sufficiently to be removed by
easy stages to my home the last of May, 1865.
My period of service was short, when compared
with that of many who entered in the earlier years of
the war; but I was too young at that time to be
accepted, yet I feel very grateful that I was enabled,
even in so short a time, to relieve, comfort, and cheer
many sick and wounded soldiers.
Sincerely yours,
Elizabeth S. Ward.
Pleasant Prairik, Wis.
133
134
OUR ARMY NURSES.
LUCY (FENMAN) BARRON.
J WAS a regimental nurse in our late war, from
March, 1861 to March, 1863, and went from
place to place wherever the "boys " Avere
ordered. I was sworn in as nurse by Capt.
S. M. Davis, but neglected to be enrolled.
I served at Camp Reed, Erie, two months, then
went with the troops to Maryland, where I entered
the Regimental Hospital at Baltimore. In May, 1862,
we went to Harper's Feriy, and I served in the Gen-
eral Hospital there until the surrender in September,
when we returned to Washington, and I was stationed
in many different places that one could hardly call
hospitals, for almost every house contained some sick
or wounded.
While in West Virginia the rebels took me for a
target, but, praise God, they missed their mark, and
the bullet whistled above my head. Once they sur-
rounded us, and we could get no supplies for nearly
three weeks. At the last w^e had nothing to eat but
hard-tack, and not much of that. At this extremity
oui" men fought their way out; the commander of the
place surrendered, and was shot for it, as a traitor.
I had a severe time among those rebels while I had
the typhoid fever, receiving care only from the good
Union doctor. We dared not say we were Union, or
we might have been killed. When able to travel I
returned to the Regimental Hospital in West Vu*-
135
136 OUR ARMY NURSES.
ginia where I remained, until I returned to my home.
While in the College Hospital, at Georgetown,
an affecting scene was enacted. A young soldier
was wounded in the shoulder, severing the main
artery, and he would die in a few moments if
the blood were allowed to flow; but we nurses took
turns in holding back the life-stream until he could
be baptized; then he said: "I am ready now. You
may take away your hand," and in a very few minutes
he died.
Lucy (Fenmak) Barron.
EUUEKA, CaL.
OUR GRAND ARMY OF THE DEAD.
Fast asleep the boys are lying in their low and narrow tents,
And no battle-cry can wake them, and no orders call them hence ;
And the yearning of the mother, and the anguish of the wife.
Cannot with their .magic presence call the soldier back to life ;
And the brother's manly sorrow, and the father's mournful pride.
Cannot give back to his country him who for his country died:
They who for the trembling nation in its hour of trial bled.
Lie, in these its years of triumph, with our army of the dead.
When the reign of Time is ended, and Eternity begun ;
When the thunders of Omniscience on our wakened senses roll.
And the sky above shall wither and be gathered like a scroll ;
When, among the lofty mountains and across the mighty sea,
The sublime, celestial bugler shall ring out the reveille, —
Then shall march with brightest laurels and with proud, victorious
tread.
To their station up in heaven, our grand army of the dead.
/
138
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. RENA MINER.
<nypRS. RENA L. MmER, formerly Miss Little-
/f\ field, is a grand- daughter of old Squire Little-
I ^ field, who was widely known throughout
^ ^'^ N^orthern Indiana and Southern Michigan,
in the early settlement of that section. He was a
man of iron constitution, indomitable will, strong
convictions, and gruff manners; yet possessed of a
generosity so broad, and a sympathy so ready, that
he was instinctively sought as a champion of the
oppressed. With what he saw to be wrong he held no
compromise, but was its open, bitter, implacable foe.
Albert Littlefield, his eldest son and Mrs. Miner's
father, was a man of wide mental attainments, studi-
ous, conscientious, and of an exceedingly retiring
nature. It was said of him, " He never wronged a
fellow-being; a poor man himself, he has often
divided his last dollar with one poorer."
Mrs. Miner is a true descendant of this hardy and
scholarly ancestry. In early girlhood she manifested
to an unusual degree an interest in social problems.
She was troubled by the inequalities in environments
and opportunities, the unjust estimate placed upon
worth as opposed to position, and probably more so
from the fact that it became necessary, early in life,
that she should fight its battles for herself. This she
began to do when scarcely out of childhood, as mill
operator, seamstress, and compositor.
139
140 OUR ARMY NURSES.
During this hard life she managed to become
advanced in the text-books of the schools, so that a
few months' discipline fitted her to procure a certifi-
cate for teaching. After this she taught and attended
school alternately, until she had graduated from the
common school course at Sturgis, Mich.
At the breaking out of the war she was enthused
with a patriotic desire to aid in maintaining the
Union. Her father being too much of an invalid, and
her brother too young to enter the service, she
determined to represent the family herself, and
appealed to the president of the Indiana Sanitary
Commission for permission to enter hospital service.
This request was refused, on account of her youth;
but, nothing daunted, she applied again and again, un-
til struck by the resolution manifested, and receiving
assurances from the home physicians of her capability,
he finally informed her that if she would secure six
elderly ladies, to accompany her, he would give her an
appoinment with the rest, as their services were much
needed. This she promptly did; but when the time
for departure came all but one had deserted, having
become faint-hearted from the dismal predictions of
their friends.
With this one friend she proceeded to Indianapolis,
and was immediately sent to Louisville, Kentucky,
whence they were transferred to Jeffersonville Gen-
eral Hospital.
Late in the autumn of 1864 the hospital was
nearly emptied by transfers, and she returned to
her home for several months, but was again assigned
OUR ARMY NURSES. 141
to duty at St. Louis, where they received the returned
prisoners of war, who were more pitiable, if possible,
than wounded soldiers; remaining there until the
closing of the hospitals, in October, 1865, making
sixteen months of service.
She was married to Mr P. P. Miner, a veteran
soldier, in September, 1866. She is the mother of
three children, and has performed all of her own
household labor. During all these years she has been
a trusted comrade, inspiring genius at her husband's
side, preparing his thoughts as well as her own for
the press. For half a score of years she was a con-
stant contributor to the ^Vestern Rural. She has
also been a contributor to the Courant of Chicag-o,
the Chicago Express, Iridianajjolis Leader, Indus-
trial jVews, Michigan Patriot, JVetv Forum, and
many others. In company with Mrs. I. C. Fales, of
Brooklyn, she founded the Sociologic News, she
editing the Western department.
Mrs. Rena Mi:n:er.
St. Charles. Mich.
142
OUR ARMY NURSES.
FIELD HOSPITAL, SAVAGE STATION, VA.
144 OUR ARMY NURSES.
VESTA M. W. SWARTS, M. D.
)BOUT the sixth of July, 1864, and at the age
of twenty-three, I resigned my position as
principal of the High School at Auburn,
^-^ Indiana, where I then lived, and started for
the South. I expected to join my husband. Dr.
D. J. Swarts, assistant surgeon, 100th Indiana
Volunteers, then on duty iu a hospital at Altoona
Pass, Georgia, and to assist him in the care of the
sick and wounded at that place.
When I reached Indianapolis I learned that com-
munication was cut off, and that it would not be
possible for me to get through. While hesitating,
and wondering what I should do, Governor Morton
suggested that I report in person to the Christian
Commission agency at Louisville, Ky., as he thought
that Annie Wittenmeyer, who was doing grand work
for the soldiers, would find a place in some hospital
where my work would be needed. This I decided
to do, and in a few days (about July 15th) I began
work at Brown U. S. General Hospital, near Louis-
ville, Ky., being employed by surgeons in charge
under the auspices of the Christian Commission.
About October of the same year I was transferred
to Crittenden U. S. General Hospital, at Louisville,
where I remained until March 27, 1865, when being
unfit for duty, on account of poor health, I was
honorably discharged, and returned to my home.
145
146 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Among" the army nurses with whom I was asso-
ciated, I recall the names of two most excellent
women who are numbered with the dead, — - Mrs.
Underwood of Brown, and Mrs. Ailing of Ci'itten-
den Hospital.
The war for the preservation of our Union evi-
dently did much to advance the best interests of
woman. It created a necessity for her lal)or in new
and untried ways. It gave her an opportunity to
prove her ability, and also to cultivate that true
com-ag-e without which the most capable person ma}'"
utterly fail of success, ^o women appreciate these
facts so well as do the active workers of those days,
among whom are the army nurses.
Fraternally yoin-s,
Yesta M. W. Swakts, M.D.
CoK. Maixe and Sixth Stkekts, Auburn, Ixd.
148
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ELLEN MARSH.
EARLY in the year 1863 I commenced my duties
as nurse in a military hospital. On my arrival
at the barracks I was shown by the surgeon in
^ charge through several wards, and introduced
to some of the nurses with whom I was soon to be
associated. The long rows of beds on either side of
each ward, upon which wei-e so many sufferei'S, made
a deep and lasting impression. I felt I had under-
taken a responsible work.
On the first day my attention was attracted to a
man past the prime of life, who was evidently near
its close. I was told that he wanted a letter written,
but I found hira too weak to do more than give the
name of a brother to whom he wished to have his
last words sent. The chaplain had talked with him,
and felt convinced he died a Christian.
For ten days I found very interesting work writing
for some, reading to others, and finding books,
papers, and tracts for others; and had an oppor-
tunity to become acquainted with the character of
those with whom I was to be associated, and thus
learned how to meet their wants, and also gained a
knowledge of the daily duties of a nurse before I
was assigned a ward. But when I received my
orders in military form, to report for duty to the
surgeon of Ward A, I felt, — I shall have my own
little province, and my own patients, for whom I shall
149
150 OUR ARMY NURSES.
work with a hearty good-will. I looked up and
down my ward — two hundred feet long. There
were the same two rows of beds as in the others.
They looked even longer than they Avere to me, just
commencing the work; but as day after day I passed
from one end to the other, looking after the wants of
my patients, the distance grew less and my ward a
home, — the patients my family. It is not strange
that one had the feeling of sister for men who had
suffered so bravely for their country, and a sympa-
thizing and encouraging word for the coarsest and
roughest among them ; remembering that many had
not enjoyed privileges of home and education.
The ward always looked cheerful, for a dozen
windows on each side let in the sunlight, and the
curtains were rolled high, that none of its cheer or
warmth should be lost.
The most of the patients were convalescing, as
they had been cared for during the winter, and only
needed nourishment to tit them for the field as the
spring campaign opened, or to be sent home, having
been found unfit for duty in the army. By the side
of one bed (a fever patient) sat the Avife to whom he
was too feeble to talk, but resigned to death. The
only hope was what most careful nursing and noui*-
ishment could do for him; but his system was too
reduced, and in five weeks we stood at his death-bed.
Death seemed more solemn in such surroundings.
For a time quietness prevailed in the ward. Soon
all was as usual, the bed removed, and our patient's
body prepared for buiial. Words of comfort and
OUR ARMY NURSES. 151
sympathy to the wife and such aid for her homeward
journey was given as was in our power. Then
others claimed our attention.
On the same side of the ward sits another very
young wife, whose husband is suffering from gan-
grene in his foot, which had been frozen. It was
thought amputation would be necessary, but nature
did the work, aided by rest and courage, and a cheer-
ful disposition which has done much for him. In a
few weeks he is walking around the ward, with the
aid of crutches, and eagerly waiting for his turn to
go home.
On the opposite side of the ward lay a Massachu-
setts boy, 2oale, delicate, and seemingly not long for
this world. Below him is a boy about the same age,
who was transferred from the same hospital to ours
a few days before I had taken charge. These were
the greatest sufferers, and the ones to whom I should
devote the most of my time. The little patient last
named needs more than passing notice. His courage
and uncomplaining disposition under so much suffer-
ing is remarkable, and shows him to be a true soldier.
The little form, bent out of shape, is pitiable. The
limbs are swelled, and the cords so contracted that
he cannot straighten them. One arm, his right, en-
tirely helpless, and so emaciated that it is like a skele-
ton, lies on his breast. Two abscesses formed on
that side prevent his moving it; therefore his food
must be so prepared that he can pick it up with his
left hand. He cannot let any one feed him while
he is able to do so much with his other hand. His
152 OUR ARMY NURSES.
appetite is fitful as a consumptive's ; we must tax our
minds to get him the delicacies that will tempt him.
Visitors are interested to help us; so Charlie fares
quite well. He says as I often write for him, " Tell
mother I am doing well, — that I have not lost my
courage." His father, at home, is dying, and the
other children are younger than Charlie, so there
is no one to come for him. I passed many houi'S
reading to him, or listening while he told of his
school days and his life in the army. He had de-
ceived about his age Avhen he had enlisted, — was
yomiger than allowed. He had acted as orderly, and
had the promise of a better position. He could not
believe but he would get well; — would say, "I am
too young to die," even with such helplessness that
he must be turned by an attendant if he wanted to
change his position, as he could not lie but a few
minutes on his back.
Our short services Sunday consisted of reading a
portion of Scripture, a hymn, and then the j^rayers.
To these he looked forward, although he would not
acknowledge a deep interest in spiritual things, and
even disliked to have the chaplain talk to him. He
enjoyed having the patients sit round his bed and
sing hymns, and would select one after another, and
often we could hear his feeble voice join in. " There
is rest for the weary," was one of his favorites. He
failed gradually, but surely. The Sunday before he
died he asked the chaplain to pray with him; and as
we stood by his bed it was a solemn thing to realize
that as long as the poor sufferer had strength, he
OUR ARMY NURSES. 153
clung to earthly support; but in his weakness called
on God. We cannot doubt but God in his mercy
heard. His mother arrived just at the last. She
had started after the funeral of her husband. One
evening just after " taps " I had left the ward, when
there was a knock at my door, with the announce-
ment that "the sick boy's mother has arrived." I
hastened to welcome her, and made her comfortable
to watch by her boy that night. A few days later
we stood by his bed. His mother, too overcome, had
left the room, when he said, " Call mother; I want to
say good-bye." He said to her: "Tell them at home
I die happy. I hoj)e I am forgiven. I am going to
father." At his request the patients stood around
his bed and sang, " I'm going home, to die no more."
At the close of the hymn he breathed his last. The
spirit had gone to God, who gave it; and the wid-
owed mother went home alone to mourn her oldest
child.
My services as nurse commenced Feb. 15, 1863,
at Armory Square Hospital, Washington, D. C,
and covered nineteen months, with intervals of
absence to get recruited.
Ellen Mabsh.
LiNGWOOD, Princks Park, Livkrpool, Eng.
154
OUR ARMY NURSES.
CLARA B. HOYT.
^^ the 15th of September, 1864, m response to
a call from Miss Dix, I bade adieu to home,
kindred, and friends, in Gravesville, ]^ew
York, and wended my way toward the scene
of battle, to share in the horrors attendant on grim
war, as a volunteer nurse. A few days later I arrived
at Washington, and as Miss Dix was away, I was
sent by her order to the Columbia College Hospital,
for rest and instruction until her return. After eight
days I received word to report at headquarters, and
was immediately sent to the 18th Army Corps Hos-
pital, Point of Rocks, Va. Arriving there I was
assigned to duty, Oct. 6, 1864, by Dr. Fowler,
and remained there until the close of the war.
It would be impossible for me to describe what I
passed through. Oh, the pain, the groans, the
dying struggles! Nothing but the strongest devo-
tion to country and flag could have enabled me to
endure it.
Many of the present generation have too little
sympathy with the defenders of our Republic, — too
slight a realization of the significance of the four
years of strife, the clouds and darkness through
which the nation passed, ere liberty was pro-
claimed, and the flag floated free.
Clara B. Hoyt.
Laknkd, Kansas.
155
156
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARGARET MACKEY.
JWE:N'T from Milwaukee, June 10, 1863, and
served until July, 1865, at Hospital 'No. 2,
located on College Hill, at Nashville, Tenn.
During the first year I was there Major Lyon
was surgeon in charge; then he was sent to the
front, to a field hospital, and Major Herbert took
his place in No. 2. At the close of the war I
returned to my home.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Margaret Mackey.
360 4th Street, Milwaukee, Wis.
Woe to the land that lets
Its watch-fires burn to embers I
The conqueror soon forgets,
But the beaten foe remembers.
Bravely the fathers fought.
No shameful ease allured them ;
The peace their high hearts souglit.
Their trusty swords secured them.
Build, then, our ships of war,
Keep the watch-fires burning ever ;
So danger shall dwell afar.
So peace shall be broken never I
That brave life, quenched years ago,
Seems of mine own a part;
For he who dies for freedom, lives
In every freeman's heart.
158
OUR ARMY NURSES.
EMILY M. CONE.
J WAS enrolled as an army nnrse Sept. 2, 18G3,
and served in that capacity one year and
nine months, being discharged May, 1865.
I went from Rockford, 111., and entered the
Cnmberland Hospital, at Kashville, Tenn., where I
served under Major McDermott, during the first
year, and Major Cloak the year following. I had
charge of the Laundry Department, and also of the
Low Diet Kitchen, for a short time during the
absence of Mrs. Woodruff. When I had any
spare time I devoted it to the cai-e of the sick
and wounded soldiers.
After the battle of Nashville I was on duty forty-
eight hours without sleep, caring for the boys that
were brought in from the battlefield, which was about
two miles distant. The excitement was intense.
We expected to be obliged to leave the hospital
and flee to the city for protection, and preparations
were made to convey the sick and wounded to a
place of safety; but fortunately we were not dis-
turbed.
On his way to Franklin my husband's brother was
taken sick, through exposure at the time of battle,
and removed to Huntsville, Ala., where our army
was in camp.
He sent for me, and that journey I shall never for-
get, owing to the hardships I endured on the way.
159
IGO
OUR ARMY NURSES.
We went in box cars, with about three hundred
soldiers on board. I was the only woman among
them from Stephenson down, but I must say I was
never treated with more consideration and kindness
than by " our dear boys in blue." I remained three
days, and during that time buried the brother; then
returned to jSTashville, more dead than alive myself.
My husband enlisted in 1861, and served with his
regiment until 1863. He was injured at Stephenson,
and transferred to the Cumberland Hospital, where
he remained with me until we were discharged.
Emily M. Cone.
Care of A. H. Maxwell,
New Milford, III.
ttHtCTgn BY THE STATE «
162
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MODENIA R. WESTON
J WAS born in Albany, :N'. Y., Ang. 3, 1816.
I went from Iowa into the army Sept. 1,
1861. My labors were varied. I was first
connected with the 3d Iowa Infantry Hospi-
tal. I was called the mother of the regiment. In
October there were a great many sick with the
measles, but soon the disease abated somewhat, and
the regiment was ordered to Quincy, to recuperate.
We went to Benton Barracks next, where those who
had not already taken the measles now had them. I
was the only woman connected with the department,
and had my hands full. My labors were made much
easier by having a good supply of sanitaries sent to
me.
In February the regiment was ordered to Mexico,
Mo.; the hospital department, containing thirty
patients, to be left behind. As soon as the sick
were able to travel we followed the troojjs, and had
no sooner established our hospital than small-pox
broke out. In March all the able-bodied men were
ordered to Pittsburg Landing; as soon as possible
we followed, only to find most of the regiment sick
with diarrhoea, from drinking surface water. The
ladies of Quincy supplied us with sanitary stores,
and with them a large box of tea. So I had tea
made for those in the hospital department, and all
got well.
163
164 OUR ARMY NURSES.
I was with the regiment the first day at the battle
of Shiloh, and we did up wounds until eleven o'clock.
Then went to River Landing and aboard the steamer,
on which were four hundred wounded. Here, too, I
was the only woman. They had no food, so I first sent
for coffee, sugar, and hard-tack. Tuesday the boat
was ordered to Savannah, where we occupied an un-
finished building. After we had been there a few days
we received some supplies; then we did very well.
About the first of May four lady nurses were sent
to us, and as soon as possible the wounded were
removed. The sanitary stores were sent to Far-
rington. We found twenty-two hundred wounded,
and some fever cases; all were in tents. We stayed
until September; then the patients were sent JN^orth,
the hospital was broken up, and the supjDlies sent to
Corinth. Three other nurses and myself were sent to
Jackson, where we remained until March, 1863. Then,
all patients haying been removed, the nurses, twenty-
two in number, were ordered to report at Memphis,
Tenn. From there we went to Washington. All
this time I was a volunteer nurse, without pay.
April 20, 1863, I received my commission from
Miss Dix. In January, 1864, I was ordered to
report to J. D. Erwin, Superintendent of U. S.
General Hospital of Memphis, Tenn. He sent me
to the Small-Pox Hospital as matron. I i-emained
there until October, 1866.
When I volunteered, my name was Modenia R.
McColl. Now it is
Modenia R. Weston.
Waveland, Hancock Co., Miss.
166
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARIA W. ABBEY.
f^'N the third Sunday in April, 1861, at Ply-
11 mouth Church, Brooklyn, N. Y., I heard Rev.
^^ H. W. Beecher read a call for women as
volunteers to work in ISTew York for the good
of our soldiers; also a call for volunteers to go as
nurses in the war. I responded at once, and was one
of a company of six ladies who left New York for
the seat of war the first day of May. We reached
Baltimore that evening, and Washington the next
day at 5 o'clock p. m. We stopped at the Kirkwood
over two weeks ; then received permission to go into
the Union Hospital at Georgetown, where we soon
found work enough to do.
As yet there was no organization, and we found
it very difficult to do anything systematically; but
we were each obliged to do the best we could.
The hospital began to fill after the first battle of
Bull Run, and we had no rest then.
Up to that time I had been in good health, but the
impure and infectious atmosphere began to tell upon
my strength. I failed rapidly, and was obliged to
leave on the 3d of September.
A little later I was induced to take a house, which
I opened as a private hospital, and maintained it
myself for two years. Then I moved, but my
means and strength were still given for our suf-
fering soldiers, and my house was open to them.
168
OUR ARMY NURSES.
although few could repay me, and I have not
received anything for my services.
I left Nashville in September, 1867, a widow, and
with broken health. Since that time I have main-
tained myself, although I am now lame.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Maria AV. Abbey.
92 Ralph Avk., Brooklyn, N. Y.
National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn.
170
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. W. N. SPRAGUE.
EHE subject of this sketch, Sarah J. MilHken,
was born in Baldwin, Me., Aug. 3, 1830,
and was the daughter of Josiah and Sally
^ ^ (Townsend) Milliken. At the age of twenty
she went to Lynn, where her brother had preceded
her, and remained until the breaking out of the war.
During the first year of the Rebellion she was in
Maine, where, in company with other patriotic
women, she was engaged in making army clothes
for the men at the front. But tiring of this, she
wished to be of more use to her country. An op-
portunity came when Miss Dix called for volunteer
nurses. With two other women she left her home, in
September, 1862, and became a regularly enlisted
army nurse. When she arrived in Washington,
the city was crowded with sick and wounded
soldiers, and every available building was used as
a temporary hospital. She was first assigned a
place in the court-room of the City Hall building,
where for nearly a month she ministered to the
wants and relieved the suffering of the soldiers
under her charge.
At the end of the month the wounded were
removed to the Judiciary Square Hospital, which
consisted of ten wards, each containing thirty-six
beds. Miss Milhken was given charge of Ward
Three. The surgeon was Dr. A. Hartsuff, and the
172 OUR ARMY NURSES.
chaplain, Rev. John C. Smith, of the First Presby-
terian Church of Washington.
Miss MilUken continued in charge of her ward
until the spring of 1863, when she was retained as
the only female nurse, and given charge of the whole
hospital. At this time the work of caring for the
sick was performed by convalescent soldiers, and
she directed these men in the performance of their
duty. In her enlarged field of action she had ample
opportunity to display that womanly kindness and
sympathy which made the army nurses so dear to
the hearts of the soldiers. She had under her charge
the wounded from many a famous battlefield, and
could relate many interesting and touching inci-
dents which came under her immediate notice.
After sixteen months she I'etired from the service,
January, 1864, receiving the following recom-
mendation from the surofeon in charoe : —
U. S. A. General Hospital,
Judiciary Square, Washington, D. C,
January, 1864.
This certifies that Miss Milliken has been employed in this hospi-
tal, as nurse, for many months. Slie has always been found faithful
to her duties, kind to the patients, and strictly honest; thus com-
bining all the qualities of a good nurse and estimable woman.
A. Hartsuff.
In 1872 Miss Milliken married, and her present
address is
Mrs. Wm. X. Sprague.
Lynn, Mass.
174
OUR ARMY NURSES.
■'-'*■ ^t
LUCY L. CAMPBELL KAISER.
■:N' April, 1861, I left my home in St. Charles, 111.,
and went to Chicago, and from there to St.
I Louis, where I went to a hotel and watched
^^ all incidental affairs pertaining to the Rebellion,
until the battle of Carthage. Then I consulted with
prominent men as to how and where I could apply
my individual work in the way that would be most
acceptable; and soon found a place at Jefferson Bar-
racks, Mo., then the old United States Post Hospital.
I left my name and address with the steward, who
promised to send for me as soon as I was needed;
then returned to St. Louis, where I spent the period
of waiting in visiting soldiers who came to camp in
and around the old Fair Ground, and I found many
in need of care, as well as articles of actual necessity,
which I furnished by writing to prominent ladies,
who always responded to the call with a supply of
clothing, bedding, food, and many things that helped
to make life more endurable in the unorganized con-
dition in which the army was at that time. During
my work there I was paying my board at the hotel,
as what I did was entirely a free-will offering,
prompted by my pity and sorrow for a condition
of affairs that had already cost so much human life
and engendered bitter hatred. I remained there
until August 6th, when I started out for "Wilson's
Creek, intending to make the march from RoUa
175
176 OUR ARMY NURSES.
with the regiment, then preparing to reinforce
General Lyon; hnt npon my arrival I fonnd the
officers slow to obey orders, giving as an excuse
the fact that they had no wagons for transportation.
While thus delaying the battle was fought, and
Lyon and many of his men killed. I lingered
until the wounded began to arrive; then knowing
it was useless to go to the front at that late hour,
I returned to St. Louis and resumed my work, going
the rounds of Benton Barracks. I found all in the
hospital in the lower part of the city well cared for
by the Sisters of Charity, so my assistance was not
needed there. I found men from Bull Run, Spring-
field, and other places where there had been fighting,
and kept busy doing with as little delay as possible
whatever ought to be done.
Here I saw Generals Fremont and Sigel, and
noted the contrast. Fremont, large and portly, —
the picture of a commanding ofticer; Sigel, exactly
the opposite : small in head and stature, and wearing
glasses, which hid the redeeming feature of a promi-
nent man.
As the hotel where I was boarding was crowded
with military men, I changed to the St. Lawrence,
August 29th. Then hearing that there were many
soldiers in Rolla who needed assistance I started at
once, taking with me a lai-ge basket of such articles
as I thought would be required. After a long day's
travel I reached camp just at evening, and found
many sick ones; some had measles, some fevers or
colds, and still others were homesick. There was
OUR ARMY NURSES. 177
one lady there doing what she conld without sup-
plies or conveniences. I gave her the basket, and
promised to send more. A regiment composed of
men fi*om our town and its vicinity was here, and I
saw my l)rother and a cousin, besides many old neigh-
bors. That night was passed at Wilson's Hotel, and
the next morning I returned to St. Louis, where I
rested over the Sabbath, then taking up the work at
the Barracks again.
September 4th. I wrote Miss Dix, inquiring into
the detail business; then visited some regimental
tents, taking, as usual, a supply of whatever I
thought would be most needed to supply their im-
mediate wants. During that week I continued such
visits, also applied to many ladies for supplies. Then
came an order to report for duty at Jefferson Bar-
racks. Here I saw that I was real!}" needed, and I
Avorked in the wards until late that night, getting
things in shape so I could go back to the city for
needed articles, and returned on the 8th. At this
time I received an introduction to ex-Governor
Stewart, Avho escorted me to the dining-room, and
acted the part of champion to the " Lady Soldiei-,"
as he chose to call me.
On the 9th I again visited the city for supplies,
and witnessed the first military funeral I ever saw.
I was also made very anxious by hearing that there
had been a skirmish at Arlington Heights. I went
for supplies again the 12th, as I wished to report to
those furnishing what we needed most. On this
occasion I was present at the presentation of a flag
178 OUR ARMY NURSES.
to the survivors of the battle of Springfield, by the
ladies of the city.
On the 15th, while at the hospital, I had a call
from a mysterious pei"son, — tall, and cross-eyed,
otherwise passably good-looking. His errand was
apparently to get a Republican paper I was taking,
but he went away without it. Query: "What did
he call for?" I never knew. The 17th I wxnt
through the city to the Fair Grounds, to the hospi-
tal where I worked before going to Jeffei-son Bar-
racks Hospital. That day I saw the need of good
help. The 18th and 19th I Avorked with the sick in
the wards, and my heart was saddened by seeing
so many in the prime of life called to the other land
by such a mistaken path. TVHiy did this revolt ever
occur?
The next day Di-. Buel came to us, asking me to
interest some lady in behalf of his sick men, suffer-
ing for want of attention and supplies. I referred
this to ladies in St. Louis, who promptly responded.
The 21st I visited the Sanitary Commission, and in
answer to my request I received from Mr. Yeatman,
as an agent for Miss Dix, my coveted commission,
and the 23d was put on the hospital pay-roll. I
considered the situation thoroughly, and decided that
let what would come, I would not abandon the sol-
diers so long as I Avas able to stay. I soon found
that there was no clothing in the linen room, in fact
no linen department, and was at a loss what to do,
as we could not get " such things " from Govern-
ment. Then we applied to the Sanitary Commis-
OUR ARMY NURSES. 170
sion, but they did not have anything-. We next
ajDpealed to the Ladies' Aid who promptly sent a
hmited supply. I made an enemy of the steward's
wife, by i-ef using to grant her reqnest for clothing
for herself and family; but I found she w^as in prac-
tice, and would have it dishonestly if she could not
get it honestly.
My next work was to superintend the cleaning of
the ward, so far as soap and water would do the work.
By this time the sick were mostly convalescent, — all
doing well; but we had another anxiety, in the fear
that some of our men had been taken prisoners.
Until this time I had been obliged to occupy a
room with the ^steward's hired girl and her baby; and
as I was very tired I greatly appi-eciated a room
alone, which I was now able to have. Then, too,
more supplies came, and that made the work easiei*.
The 1st of October a few new cases arrived, and
the doctor ordered that the shade trees be cut down,
to let more air and sunshine into the hospital. Soon
my health was much improved.
After this my first attendant was taken sick,
and had to be removed for rest and chang-e. I
was greatly troubled, wondering wdien the struggle
would end, and my anxiety was increased by the
privations that the men in the wards had to endure.
Then new patients arrived, and I had to do much of
the work that belonged to the doctor in addition to
my own. Soon all the wards were filled, and I had
about all I could do; still there were many calls for
help that I so wanted to render, and all the time I
180 OUR ARMY NURSES.
was harassed by the steward's wife. I never saw
the equal of that woman; I coukl only hope that
sometmie there would be " rest for the weary,"
though I feared that hope might end in despair. I
had to change attendants often, and so watch them
very closely, as they often made mistakes, and did
great mischief when trying to do right.
The 1st of ^N^ovember a disagreeable experience
came to me. Wright reported me for not giving
him enough to eat, and I suppose it v/as true. The
fiict was I could not get enough food: butter out,
sugar out, no crackers, poor bread, tough beef, no
vegetables, no candles ; in fact, the commissary was
bare, and the officers in town on a drunk.
November 5th, Mr. Jordan called to see the patients,
and take it all round we had a genuine surprise party.
All the pleasure-seekers in the city came out to cele-
brate the connection of the North Missouri and Iron
Mountain Railroads. Four locomotives, Avith thirty
cars decked in holiday attire, landed a full com-
plement of men and women; at the same time
the steamer " Louisiana " brought seven companies
of troops from Texas. There was much excitement
among the patients on hearing the firing of the
salutes; many supposed the enemy at hand. To
cap the climax, the hospital was found to be on
fire; but it was put out witli little d^^mage, — no
thanks to the officers who were having their "good
time" in the city.
All through the month we had very little to do
with, and complaint was common. A new doctor
OUR ARMY NURSES. 181
and steward came, l)ut paid little attention to the
patients; so I had to do Avhat I could of their work,
besides superintending the kitchen and dining-room
as well as the wards.
The 1st of December there were some deaths in
the hospital. Things grew no easier, and at length I
applied to the Sanitary Commission for an easier
place, but they would not let me go. I was dis-
gusted with the way the hospital was neglected, and
wanted some one else to see if she could not do better
than myself.
About the first of February, 1862, I was asked to
go to Benton Barracks for a time ; and this 1 gladly
consented to do, for I wanted to see how the " Ban-
ner Hospital " was run. IS^ow 1 had to do battle as
supervisor and nurse, as I was all alone; also to
superintend the kitchens and instruct the half-sick
soldier' who acted as cook, look after the laundry, and,
in fact, was " chief cook and bottle-washer." 1 knew
there was an able corps of nurses there, and 1 deter-
mined to learn all I could. 1 reported to the sur-
geon; also to the supervisor, who was a lady from
Keokuk.
1 was assigned to a small building containing
smaller rooms, or wards. I think 1 had ten men.
What to do, how to do it, or whether to do anything,
I did not know; so 1 decided to visit my neighbors.
I found a lady sitting by a bed reading a paper;
introduced myself, and asked her to tell me what was
expected of me. I learned that my duty was to see
that the men had medicine, food, and clothing; also
182 OUR ARMY NURSES.
to keep the ward clean. So far, so good; and I
I'eturned to try to get acquainted with my patients.
Everything Ment smoothly here, only I must say that I
felt out of place, after having had so much to do, to
be confined to a room about fourteen feet square.
But I managed to exist there until the troops com-
menced to leave for Pittsburs^ Landing-; then I told
Mr. Yeatman I did not like my place, and would go
to the front. He did not think I could, as women
Avere not allowed there then ; but I took my staff in
hand and went to the major, asking him if I
could go if I would run all the risks and pay my
own expenses. He told me that he had no objections
if I could get on board the boat and up the river, but
it must be at ni}^ own risk, as he would be court-
marshaled if found out. I went to the Provost Mar-
shal and got a pass to cross the river, then had my
things put al)oard.
The gang-plank guard did not read my pass, and
I went aboard and directly to the surgeon in chai-ge
of the boat, and told him the situation, asking him
to ignore my ]ii'esence until we were well on our
way, also to keep a stateroom for me. Then I went
immediately to the sick, and tried to make them as
comfortable as possible for the night. Soon an offi-
cer came aboard and called out, "All females will
immediately come ashore." I looked him square in
the face and saw him go, but I did not choose to go
with him. The boat swung out and headed down
stream, and I was afloat. I found a room and took
jDOSsession, then looked around me, and soon saw
OUR ARMY NURSES. 183
a woman with two little girls. Her hiisliaiid had
smuggled her on board, as they were in the city
and destitnte, and the soldiers had agreed to divide
rations with them, and give her their washing to do.
At length Ave arrived and disembarked, and I fol-
lowed the regiment to camp through the darlniess
and wind, as I knew of nowhere else to go. A few
days after our arrival there was to be a grand re-
view. A horse was furnished for my use, and I rode
out to see the parade. It was very imposing, — a sight
that is seldom seen in our time and countiy. Yet in
sj)ite of the splendor I returned to sick soldiers, who
lay on the damp ground, wrapped only in a blanket.
Early Sunday morning we were roused by the
drum calling to battle. The men responded
promptly, leaving me with only one attendant,
to care for the helpless sick. I gave them some
coffee and hard-tack, with a smile and the assur-
ance that I would get them out of the way of the
flying lead. The camj) was in range of the battle,
and I kncAv the regiment had no ammunition, and
must soon fall back, jierhaps before I could even get
the men ready to go. Several balls came tearing
through the tent, creating almost a panic. We had
gone there in the dark, and had not taken the trouble
to find out our position, and what to do we did not
know. Suddenly I thought of a lieutenant who had
been sick the day before. I sought among the tents
and found him, and he gave me the points of the
compass, and told me of a ravine near by where we
must try to get the men. Those who were unable
184 OUR ARMY NURSES.
to walk we carried on poles, and thus all were trans-
ported but one old man, who Avas delirious and would
neither go nor be carried.
A captain came in, wounded in the left shoulder,
and so once more I went to the camp and returned
with what I could carry, then bound np the wound,
to stop the blood. By that time an orderly came
with the command to get the men as far down the
ravine as we could, and an ambulance would meet us
there. As soon as all Avas in order I took a rifle and
started for the battleground. I crossed a cotton-
field, and passed an old log house known as the Post
Office. On my way I met an aged conple, each with
a large bundle, and trying to reach the river, but
going the opposite way. They were German, and
did not understand my English. I was not a Ger-
man scholar, but I spoke to them the best I could,
and set them in the right direction, then hurried on.
When I reached the line I found our men in great
numbers, and Avorked as long as I could find any-
thing to do with. After using my oavu handkei-chief
and skirt, and everything I could get at, I Avent
down to the river. There I saw such sights as I
never Avant to see again: Avounded men, mules and
horses, tents and blankets, in the Avildest disorder.
The surgeon Avas attending to putting the men on a
boat. He sent me aboard to do Avhat I could. There
Avere men Avounded in all imaginable Avays. Soon an
amputation table Avas prepared; meanwhile I sat
down on the floor Avith my back to the partition,
trying to rest a moment, as I had been passing
OUR ARMY NURSES. 185
through so much since before clayHght. A woman
eaine out of a stateroom just in time to see me there,
and walking up to me she said in sharj^ tones, "Why
don't you go to work?" As I had been on my feet
all that dreadful da}^, without food and working in
blood, I thought her question called for a reply, and I
asked, " Why don't you go to work yourself, and see
how you like it?" She said, "I am at work taking
care of my husband, who has had his thumb shot, and
is in that stateroom." I quietly walked over the
wounded men to see him. He had had his thuml)
well dressed on the field. I found the kitchen, inter-
ested those in charge, and was soon giving coffee
and hard-tack to men who had not tasted food that
day. Then I went to dressing wounds, and worked
with the surgeon all night, and all the next day.
Monday night I slept on the colored woman's bed
for two hours, then went to work again. Thursday
I went on board a boat loaded for Cincinnati, in
order to get some clothing, as my trunk had been
lost during the battle. I purchased the needed
articles, and returned to beat up the Tennessee
River. I was so exhausted that I paid little atten-
tion to anything during the trip. On our arrival I
reported to General Grant, who gave me an order to
remain on a boat in the harbor until the hospital
boat arrived. This gave me a little spare time, which
I utilized by visiting the old camp-ground, and look-
ing up all the regimental hospitals along the way,
taking orders for such sanitary goods as they needed.
I went to the lower landing, where Mrs. Bickerdyke
186 OUR ARMY NURSES.
was in charge, and offered to assist her; bnt she
promptly declined my help in a way which to me
was rather amnsing. She did not ask me into the
tent; but, nndannted, I passed on, taking the number
of Illinois men and their condition, for I knew there
would be a boat for them that afternoon. The boat
came, Avith a supply of sanitary goods. This I
boarded, and went to the room I had left in the
morning, a tired, hungry woman. I gave the
president of the Commission the names of the men,
and their condition so far as my observations had
extended, and he took the matter in charge.
Then I rode thirty miles without leaving the sad-
dle. The next day I went aboard the boat and to
work in earnest, as the men had lain so long that
they Avere in need of immediate attention. Soon
after I returned to my old rooms at Jefferson Bar-
racks, and set about getting my ward in order. The
enlargement of the hospital had made a change of
management necessary, and there were now other
women there, so my Avork Avas much easier. Here
I received a new cei-tificate as Miss Dix's nurse, as
the other Avas lost in my trunk. This second one
Avas dated June 26, 1862. So I continued to work
and Avait for the end of the Avar, until the siege of
Vicksburg. On the morning of May 17, 1863, I left
for that field. I Avent on board a boat used as a
transfer. May 21st. Here I met Generals Grant and
Sherman, and Inspector-General HoAvard. He Avas
sick and cross, but thought he Avas all right. Dr.
Hodges said I was sarcastic, but I stood the rebuke,
OUR ARMY NURSES. 187
for I was apt to express my mind, let the re-
marks hit or miss ; and I thought only of the men,
who had done quite as well as could be expected.
I stayed on the boat in plain sight of Vicksbui-g,
and could hear the cannon and feel the vibrations
almost as plainly as at Pittsburg Landing, although
y.e were much farther fi'om the battle. We left with
nine hundred sick and wounded, and on the 12th had
an accident to the boat, by running into a snag, but
it did not damage the hull or hurt any of the patients.
The next day the boats were lashed together for pro-
tection, as the shores were occupied by the enem}^
But we arrived in safety the 14:th.
In such ways my time was spent. My lot w^as
about the same as that of other nurses, so far as
I know. I attended strictly to the sick, irrespective
of rank or personal pleasure. I continued the Avork
until June, 1864; then being tired out, and knowing
the wai' must soon close, I resigned.
During the time I was on duty I had many pleas-
ant incidents, as well as many very sad ones; and
among the saddest was writing to wife or mother
that the dear one was dead. This I found no small
task, as the men were of all nationalities, and it
required much thought to express what I desired.
But I can simply say that in this, as in other things,
I tried to do my best.
Lucy L. Campbell Kaiser.
St. Charles, Kane Co. , III.
188
OUR ARMY NURSES.
if- 1^
ELIZABETH J. DUDLEY,
ARMV NURSE.
Chicopee, Mass.
190
OUR ARMY NURSES.
SUSAN M. BABCOCK.
JEKI.ISTED in the United States service Oct.
1, 18G1, as a narse under Miss Dix, who was
the General Superintendent, and was ordered
to the front at Bell Plain, to cany supplies
and attend the sick and wounded. Then I returned
to Washington, and was ordered to the Georgetown
Hospital. From there I went to Fortress Monroe,
Va., under order of Miss Dix, and remained about
three months; then returned to Washington, and
was assigned to Stone Hospital, where I remained
six months. Then went to Columbia Hospital,
where I stayed a year. After that I went to Hare-
wood Hospital for al)out eight months. The first
year I served without compensation. In all, I
worked about four years; then was married, in
January, 1864.
I am eighty-three years old, and although my
general healtli is as good as could be expected for
one of my years, my memory is somewhat impaired;
80 if I were to attempt to Avrite an outline of my
experiences, I shoukl not do it justice.
Yours truly,
Susan M. Babcock.
Smithville, N. Y.
191
192
OUR ARMY NURSES.
^4,-' "iSS^"
ELIZABETH P. HUNT.
'T yonr request, I will give a few items of my
experience in hospital life, although I cannot
now remember all of them. At that time my
^-^ home was in Salem, Iowa, and the hospital I
worked in was at Keokuk, Iowa. There were three
hospitals in the city. The one I worked in was
called the Main Street Hospital. It was a large
eight-story building. I worked in the Fifth Ward.
There were a great many patients, and I deeply sym-
pathized with those poor heroes who had risked
their lives to protect our homes.
I was employed by Dr. Iluges (now deceased),
who had charge. Tliere was a great demand for
nurses, and I took my place in May, 1862 and left
in August. My ward had ten cases of small-pox,
and none of the other nurses were willing to wait on
them, for fear of the disease. I told the surgeon I
Avould stay. My people were very much alarmed,
but I had friends in the city who said they would
care for me. Soon I was taken ver}^ ill with the
vari<jloid form, and was removed from the hospital;
but my health was so impaired I was unable to return
to the service, and I have never been well since.
I made application for a pension, but as I was not
in the service six months, it Avas not granted. This
seemed to me a little unjust, for I should probably
have remained a year or tAvo had I not been stricken
down by caring for small-pox patients.
Eliza RETii P. Hunt.
Bloomix(;i>a!.k, Ind. vxi
194 OUR ARMY NURSES.
OUR COUNTRY'5 FLAQ.
Thou glorious flag of Freedom's air,
With folds so grandly swelling,
In every star emblazoned there
Proud memories are dwelling !
Should danger come from any shore.
And fields grow rich with slaughter,
In thy defense our hearts would pour
Their crimson tide like water.
Chorus. — Our flag, our flag, our country's flag!
Should danger e'er assail tliee,
The bugles' call will find us all ;
We'll never, never fail thee !
For life or death, our latest breatli
Would wish thy greatest glory ;
And never shame should soil thy fame.
Embalmed in song and story.
Our sabi'es bright would guide the fight,
While war steeds, madly neighing.
Would wildly dash where cannons flash,
And hands were red with slaying !
Our infantry's united files.
Like stone walls, would be ready
To meet opposing foemen's wiles,
And always would be steady.
And when the bugle rang surcease.
Far in the foremost sally —
Though woeful Avere their ranks' decrease ■
The rest would sternly rally I
And when the star-eyed Peace returned.
On Victory's field descending.
And quenchless ardor brightly burned
For home and friends attending.
What glorious welcome there would be
For those who did their duty ;
And shouts of gladness, songs and glee.
From lips of youth and beauty I
VM'y
OUR ARMY NURSES.
SAMUEL C WRIGHT.
MONG tliosc wliose service in the hospitals
during the war deserves special mention,
one whose service commenced early in 18(31
and continued until the close of the long and
bitter struggle, stands the name of Mi-s. Hannah D.
Moir; a name near and dear to many a faithful de-
fender of the Union who has cause to-day to bless
her memory. She was one who made the last
moments of many a dying hero more pleasant by
her faithful care.
She was a daughter of ISTathaniel Thomas, but
married a man named Moir, who held a commission
in the main army. He was severely wounded, and
died of his wounds in a Washington hc^spital, where
his faithful wife ministered to his wants luitil the
end; then felt it her duty to remain, and care for
other brave men who needed her attention. Here
her noble, self-sacrificing nature could find full scope.
All so blessed as to come under her care were made
to feel the influence of her gentle words. Young,
bright, and of a cheerful disposition, she cast only
rays of sunshine in her pathway, cheering the boys
who lay sick or wounded as only a woman can.
Kind, sympathetic, taking the burdens of others on
herself so far as she was able, going on errands of
mercy from one place to another, she was, in fact, a
ministering angel to all within the reach of her care
107
198 OUR ARMY NURSES.
or influence. I feel that \\\s pen is inadequate to the
task of giving my readers any conception of her
goodness; but the recording angel, I fully believe,
has wi'itten her deeds, and the "AVell clone '' has been
pronounced for her in heaven.
The writer of this sketch can vouch for her good
woi'ks, as, severely wounded he lay, for months under
her tender care. I have been invited to tell an
incident in connection with my faithful nurse, and
have consented, as I feel it ma}- be of interest to some
of the readers of this book.
I had been in Harewood Hospital for several weeks,
being ministered to l)y this faithful friend, before I
was aware that only a few miles separated our birth-
places. Among the things in my possession was a
case containing over one hundred photographs of my
friends in the Xorth. I had carried these three years
and more, and they had been a great comfort to me.
They lay on the table at the head of my cot, and the
boys who were a])le to Avalk would come to look at
them. One day while they were thus engaged Mrs.
Moir, in passing, noticed one in the hands of a soldier
who had been my roommate, in former }■ ears, at Brook-
line, Mass. Stopping, she addi-essed me thus: " How
came you by that lady's picture? " "She gave it to
me," I replied, " as she formerly belonged in my
town." ''■ Where is your company from?" she asked.
^^ Plymouth," I replied. " Why, I was from Duxbury,
and that makes us neighbors, does it not? " From
that time the friendship ah-eady existing strength-
ened, and my own dear mother could not have done
OUR ARMY NURSES. I99
more for me than did my nurse. I wrote my friend
of the discovery of her ohl friend, and a corre-
spondence was opened, which for some unknown
reason stopped at the close of the war.
I was brought to my home, and for a long time
was helpless; but as time wore away, and my wounds
allowed me to travel, I proceeded to visit Duxbnry
in search of my faithful friend, but all my labor was
in vain. Years came and went, and still my longings
were not satisfied. I wished once more to meet her
and reward her for her kindness. Years later the
friend, formerly of Brookline, said to me, ^^I have
got track of Mrs. ]Moir, and as soon as I locate her I
will write to you of her whereabouts; she is writing
in some office in Boston.''
j^ow comes the singular part of my story. As
each Christmas came it made my desire to reward
my nurse more earnest, for I felt that I owed my life
to her care and devotion. One Christmas Eve I had
made my usual presents, then I said to my good wife :
"Only one thing remahis to be done. Could I find
her, I should make Mrs. Moir a present; then I
should be content."
In a dream that night I thought myself on the
same battlefield whei-e I was last wounded, Avith
every stick, stone, and stump about me as of old.
As I lay there a woman approached me, passed,
and turning back, came and called my name as
she grasped my hand.
I at once recognized Mrs. Moir, dressed in her
deep black, as of old. I never saw any one more
200 OUR .lAWV AV^RSES.
plainly than I saw her. As I looked, the foi'm van-
ished; but the black-gloved hand remained, and for
several moments I felt plainly the pressnre of that
friendly grasp. I s])rang from my bed and told my
wife the dream, the same as I have related it to yon,
my readers, ^ow jndge of my snrprise "when on
the way to my office, walking down Broadway,
Sontli Boston (an nnusnal thing to do), as I
passed my uncle, J. T. Cole's, undertaker's rooms,
he stood in the doorway and invited me in. I
accepted the invitation, seated myself by his desk,
and carelessly glanced at a burial permit, on which
I read these words, " 3Irs. Hannah D. Moir,
daughter of Capt. Nathaniel Thomas, of Dux-
biiry, aged 38.*" I fainted dead away as I read,
and when once moi-e I was myself, my uncle said,
"AVhat was it that so affected you?" I replied,
"You have listened to the story of my nurse; that
death certificate is for her, I am sure ; I know by the
way the name is spelled."
He said, " This lady wrote in the office of Lawyer
Robb, at 25 Bi'omfield Street, Boston, and boarded
at 428 (I think) Broadway, South Boston." It was
near my own home.
I at once visited 25 Bromfield Street, and there
learned that my fears were too true. The recital
by her of my wounds was retold to me.
I saw her in her casket, and, oh, how I longed for
those closed eyes to open, those sealed lips to speak
as of old! But she had gone to her reward. The
dream I had of her, and the time I sprang from my bed,
OrR ARM)' Nl'RSES. 201
Avas within five iiiiiuites of the time lier spirit took its
flight. Since then, all I can do is from time to time
to decorate her grave with flowers; but I hope one
da}' to express my gratitude to one of God's noble
women.
I might speak of the faithful service of others
who ministered to my wants in the Overton Hospital,
at Memphis, or on the battlefield; also on the journey
to Washington, when I was near death's door; but it
is not mine to know their names, although their
memory is engraved on my heart, never to be erased.
Their kind words and deeds should, and ever will,
live in my memory.
May God bless the faithful nurses, living and dead,
Avho served their country, and did as heroic duty as
did any general or pi-ivato who woi-e a uniform of
blue. May Heaven deal kindly by the army nurses,
as they dealt kindly by us.
Samuel C. Wright.
29n Statk Street, Boston, Mass.
We append the record of army service of the
writer, S. C. Wright, whose photograjDh accom-
panies the sketch.
Fii-st enlisted at Plymouth, Mass., May 8, 1861.
Mustei'cd into the United States service at Fortress
Monroe, Ta., May 21, 1861. Was in twenty-one
battles, and wounded as follows : —
At White Oak Swamp, Ta., in head by shell;
rejwrted in Xew York papers as killed.
202 OUR ARMY NURSES.
At Aiitietam, in l)()th legs by rifle ball, while
answering call for volunteers to pull down the
fence pi'evious to the famous charge into the corn-
field. Here he was first promoted on the field for
bravery.
At Cold Harbor he was wounded in the arm by a
rifle ball.
At the battle of the Crater, before Petersburg, he
was shot in the head by rifle ball, destroying his
right eye. Here he was left on the field for dead,
and so ofiicially reported. (See Adjutant-General's
Keport, three years, Vol. E., 29th Massachusetts
Volunteers.) He was later promoted for gallantry
in this action.
While in a hospital at Memphis with typhoid fever,
word was sent to the regiment of his death, and his
things were sent home, Avith a letter to his mother.
In Kentucky he was run over by a ponderous
army wagon, loaded with one hundred and eighty
bushels of oats, and his feet and body were badly
crushed.
Later his leg Avas broken in a successful attempt
to save a piece of artilleiy deserted by another corps
on a retreat to Knoxville, Tenn. Owing to this
accident he was obliged to crawl or draw himself
for thirteen miles between the Rebel and Union
skirmish lines, suffering untold agony.
After the regiment returned home, an association
was formed, and for over twenty yeais he has been
its secretary, and Avas made color-beai-er foi- life.
204
OUR ARMY NURSES.
'X
:m^ ^
HANNAH C. SHEPPARD.
J
T has been so long since I passed through the
sad scenes of the war, that they seem much iike
a dream to which it would be hard for me to
give definite outline.
I went from my native place, Millville, ^. J., July
6, 18(34, and Miss Dix assigned me to duty at
the Chesapeake Officers' Hospital, Fortress Monroe.
The !N^ew Camp, Hampton and Chesapeake Hospi-
tals, were all under one surgeon, — Dr. McClellen.
They were not near any city, but were just above
Fortress Monroe, on a point often called Old Point
Comfort.
In the fall of 18(34: 1 was assigned to the Hampton
and 'New Camp Hospitals, where I remained until
the following June; being discharged June 28, 1865.
I served under the name of Hannah Bowman, but
was married a year later.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Ha]s:n^ah C. Sheppakd.
Port Elizabktji, N. J.
206
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ESTELLE S. JOHNSON.
JHA"\TE been requested to write what I can re-
member about my life as an army nurse, while
in the hospital of the 4th Vermont Volun-
teers. I hardly know what to say, as it is new
work for me to write for a book.
When the war broke out I lived in a little country
village shut in by the mountains of Vermont. One
day in August, 1861, Leonard Stearns came in search
of recruits. My husband and his brother-in-law were
among those who enlisted, and sister and I objected,
naturally; telling the recruiting officer that if our
husbands went we should go too, but not thinldng
that such a thing could be.
In the course of a week Mr. Stearns came and told
us that the colonel said that although nurses had not
been called for, he w^anted us to go. The boys
formed a company under Capt. Leonard A. Stearns,
and went into camp at Brattleboro. They w^ere as-
signed to the 4th Vermont Regiment, Compau}" I.
On September 18th we were sent to join them, and
on the 20th signed our names — Estelle S. Johnson
and Lydia A. Wood — to the I'oll, and were sworn in
by Lieutenant Higby, in the presence of the colonel,
adjutant, and major, the Governor of Vermont and
his son-in-law. The Governor tried to persuade us
not to go. The regiment started about eight o'clock
that evening, and went by rail to Stonington, where
207
208 OUR ARMY NURSES.
they embarked for Xew York, an-iving there the
next day in the forenoon. Thence l)y rail to Phihi-
delphia, where we arrived in the evening, and
mai'ched to Cooper's Hall, where a collation was
prepared for ns. I do believe it w\as the best meal
I ever ate; we were very hnngry. Late that night
we went on board a train for Washington, and this
time we did not get along very fast. It seemed as if
we only crawled, so slow was onr progi-ess. A few
miles beyond the Relay we fonnd the rails torn np in
apiece of woods; bnt they were soon replaced, and
we proceeded on our way, reaching Washington
abont eight o'clock in the evening. The colonel
found a place for sister and I to rest at the
"Soldiers' Retreat/' where we had supper, lodging
and breakfast; then went to join the company.
From the depot they marched to Federal Hill,
where the " tents were pitched September 23d. I
had left a little gii'l at home, who was one year old
that day.
We stayed there a week; then the 9th Wisconsin
came on the ground. It was i-aining hard, and the
colonel wonld not move his men, so sister and I took
tlie seven ladies who were Avith tlie regiment into the
tent with ns over night.
One thing I must mention before we leave Federal
Hill. Away in the distance was stationed another
reofiment. One evening near sunset we were look-
ing over there, when we saw some men drawn np in
line to shoot a comrade for desertion. I did not see
the shooting, but I heard the report of the guns, and
OUR ARMY XrRSES. 209
knew another i><)<)r fellow liad paid tlie jjenalty of
desertion.
September 28tli we again started on the march. We
crossed Chain Bridge, and halted that night close to
Fort Smith. Only one tent was pitched; that was
for the women. When all had tni-ned in and were
nicely settled for sleep, an order came to go into the
fort, as an attack was expected; bnt we stayed in
onr tent ontside and slept sonndly all night.
]N^ext day we crossed the road, and pitched the tents
on a slight elevation. This place was called Camp
Advance. Here we were assigned to the 1st Ver-
mont Brigade, Brig, ^yilliam F. Smith commanding.
"We stayed here nearly two weeks. The 2d Ver-
mont was not far away, and there were five women
with them, and some of the boys were from onr home.
Once we visited them. Soon after we moved on,
and pitched onr tents at Camp Griffin. Here was a
level strip of gronnd, with a large corn-field on one
side. A day or two later the long roll was called
before daylight. That da}^ the camjD was shelled by
the relicls, bnt the shells did not reach ns. The cap-
tain wanted sister and I to go back to Langley; bnt
I told him if he thonght we wonld rnn at the first
fire he was greatly mistaken.
As soon as possible a hospital was established, a
few miles from camp, in a deserted honse. I went
there as nnrse, or, as Dr. Allen called me, '"" matron."
In this honse there were three rooms and a kitchen
on the first floor, and three above; the one over
the kitchen being a low room, Avith roof slo23ing to
210 OUR ARMY NURSES.
the floor and with no hght. Here some of the boys
were lying, with nothing but their rubber blankets
under them, and for some time no regular sick ra-
tions were issued. One day Robert Langdon came
over to see us from the 2d Regiment. He reported
to General Brooks how the boys were situated, and
things were made lively for a day or two. The old
house underwent a thorough change. Cots were
made, and ticks filled with straw, hay, or corn-
shucks; and soon the boys were comparatively
comfortable. I occupied one of the upper rooms,
and kept thei-e my hospital stores.
Many of the soldiers were sick with typhoid fever,
and my husband soon had it. I slept very lightly,
and often was called to get the necessary things in
which to lay out some poor fellow who had died in
the night. Fi'om my room I had to go down stairs
by passing through a narrow hall just the width of a
door. Here was where they laid the dead, and
sometimes there would be two, side by side, and it
would be hard to pass them in the narrow space. It
gave me an awful feeling to crowd by them in the
dead of night.
We had been at the hospital about ten days when
sister Lydia was taken sick with the fever, and died
the ninth day. Robert Langdon brought Amanda
Farnham and Mrs. Black to prepare her for burial;
but the boys could not bear to have her buried as the
soldiers were, so clubbed together and paid the ex-
pense of having her embalmed and sent home, and
her husband with her. He arrived befoi-e the colfin
OUR ARMY NURSES. 211
did, and that nig'ht was taken down with the black
measles. She was kept three weeks, then buried
beside her little girl ; her husband getting there just
after she was buried.
After her death my husband was much worse, and
for days it was doubtful whether he could live or not,
but he slowly recovered. The care of him in addition
to my other duties kept me busy and from being
homesick. When he became convalescent, Dr. Allen
wanted me to go to the Brigade Hospital in the
same capacity in which I was serving there; but I
objected to going so far from my husband, who would
soon return to his company.
I remember many of the boys so well. One called
Phillips would be up and around one day, the next
would be very sick. Chaplain Smith came often to
see him; but as he grew worse he was sent to the
Brigade Hospital, where he lived only one week.
There were two Bailey brothers, and the doctor
said there was nothing the matter with them but
homesickness. Nearly every day I would go to
them and read, or perhaps write letters for them,
but they soon died.
Another, Charlie Persons, had black measles. I
used to go to him every day and do all I could. One
evening an attendant came to tell me Charlie was
dying. It was only too true. There he lay, his
hands clasped over his head, apparently sleeping,
but, really, quietly passing away. I took from
under his pillow the picture of his lady-love, and
this with other things I sent to her, — all but her
212 OUR ARMY NURSES.
letters, which I burned, for fear curious eyes might
read them.
I went to Washington twice with Surgeon Allen.
The first time I stopped over night Avith Miss Dix.
Her house was filled with supplies. I shall always
remember that visit. The next time Amanda Farn-
ham and I went to get some needed things. We
went to Georgetown in an army Avagon, then
walked on from there. Being veiy hungry we
went into a bakery for something to eat. When the
German woman who had charge saw our uniforms,
she invited us into her kitchen to have some dinner,
and woidd not accept any pay.
Well, in course of time my husband went on duty
again, but it was too soon, and the fever settled in
his right knee, so I had him under my charge once
more. March 21, 1862, the sick were all sent away,
as preparations were being made for an advance ; my
husband being sent to Alexandria. Surgeon Allen
said he would never be able to march again, and he
had to get a discharge. After this I did not feel
that I could stay ; but they said as he had a discharge
I should not need one. How I have wished since
that I had it. This was just before the battle of
Lee's Mills. I left the regiment March 23, 1862, and
reached home April 3d, my service covering only a
little over six months; and as our regiment was
not in any battle during that time, I had no
wounded to care for, and have no thrilling ad-
ventures to relate.
OUR ARMY NURSES.
213
I hope you may have Amanda Farnham's experi-
ence. Mine will be nothing beside hers, for she was
out during the whole war. She was married after I
left. I do not know her present name, or if, indeed,
she is living; but if she is I ho]3e she may read this,
and that I may hear from her.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
ESTELLE S. JOHXSON.
HOLYOKE, Mass.
1st Massachusetts Infantry.
National Cennetery, Gettysburg, Penn.
214
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. EMILY E. WOODLEY,
ARMY NLRSE.
216
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. MARY J. WATSON.
)FTER the battle of Stone River there came a
call from Governor Morton, of Indiana, for
twenty-live nnrses, fifty surgeons and ward
masters, and a large supply of sanitary goods
of every description. I was the second one to put
my name on the list of nurses to go to ^N^ashville,
Tenn., to help take care of the sick and wounded in
Hospital 14, which was a five-story building, a female
seminary; but now full, from basement to attic, of
sick and wounded soldiers. There were over five
hundred there at one time, so I was told. I think it
was true, for every bunk was full, and men were
lying in the aisle with nothing but their blankets
under them, and each waiting for some poor soul to
die or be sent away, so he could get a bed. That
looks hard, but it is true.
I could not go up or down stairs but I would
often meet the men nurses carrying some poor fellow
to the dead-house. For the first two weeks after
the battle they averaged from twenty-five to thirty
deaths a day, the ward master told me. Oh ! it was
terrible to hear the poor fellows, some praying, some
calling for wife and children, others for father,
mother, brother or sister, while the death damp was
gathering on the brow, and they knew they would
never see home or friends again. But I must not
allow myself to think, or I shall write too much.
217
218
OUR ARMY NURSES.
I remained at the hospital from January until
some time in March, when I was taken sick with
typhoid fever, and had to leave for awhile. Then
Governor Morton and William Hannaman sent me
down to Murfreesboro, Tenn., to nurse in the field
hospital in the fort. I Avent in July, 1863, and
stayed until the last of February, 1864. When I
went, my husband was hing at the point of death in
the fort. I was the only white woman there for two
or three weeks, though there were several colored
women, to do the cooking and washing.
I drew sanitary supplies for the sick, and did every-
thing in my power for them. I stayed Avith the
brigade until it was ordered to the front to join
Sherman in his march to the sea; then I came home,
as I needed rest.
Yours in F., C and L.,
Mits. Mary J. AYatson.
77 N. Liberty St., Indianapolis, Ind.
220
OUR ARMY NURSES.
JANETTE MAXWELL IN'.ORRILL.
J WAS commissioned by the colonel of the 6th
Regiment, Michigan Infantry, Aug. 28, 1861,
and served in Baltimore, Maryland, until April,
1862, when I was assigned by Miss Dix to
the Judiciary Square General Hospital, Washington,
D. C. On account of severe illness, I left the ser-
vice :N^ov. 1, 1863.
Among the many amusing incidents of hospital
life was the case of a man nearly fifty years of age,
who, with half a regiment, was brought in sick with
the measles. I could not make him understand the
nature of a contagious disease. He thought he was
sick enough to die ; and remembering my own experi-
ence when I w^as a child, I did not much wonder.
When at last he comprehended that in order to take
the disease one must come in contact w ith some one
who has it, he wanted me to write to his wife imme-
diately, and tell her to see that the children have the
measles, all but the baljy. Why he made that excep-
tion he would not say; but made me begin and end
the letter by telling "Eliza to have the children catch
the measles."
A very pathetic thing occurred at one time when a
number of patients were brought into the General
Hospital at Washington. I was busy here and there
with those who seemed most in need of care, when
something like a sob reached my ear. I heard it
221
222 OUR ARMY NURSES.
several times, and it fixed my attention. I passed
slowly along the ward, among" the fifty or sixty beds,
and finally reached a youth who looked as thongh his
place were in the schoolroom rather than as a soldier.
When he saw me watching him he broke down com-
pletely, and cried like a child. My own tears mingled
with his as I tried to comfort him. I learned that he
was not sixteen when he. left his widowed mother in
Kentucky and started for the front, and that night
was the first time in eighteen months that he had
heard a woman's voice.
But to me the saddest of all memories, and the one
that makes other sorrows seem lighter, is the search
for the missing ones, those for whom it was impos-
sible to account, — father, brother, husband or lover.
The thought of the dreadful uncertainty hanging
over so many lives all these years, makes me very
thankful that my graves are on the quiet hillside at
home.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Janette Maxwell Mokkill.
Lawton, Mich.
224
OUR ARMY XURSES.
MRS. ELIZABETH E. ELLIS.
T^OUR letter addressed to my mother, Mrs. Eliza-
Y beth E. Ellis, was forwarded to me, as she was
I called to her reward three years ago. I am
^^ sorry I cannot give yon as full an account as
I should like, but will do the best I can, as I would
like her work to be known.
My father, too, served three years and a half, and
finally lost his life on the ill-fated " Sultana."
Mother volunteered, and was duly enrolled as an
army nurse, Jan. 14, 1863. She was then twenty-
eight years old. She served at Woodward Post
Hospital, Cincinnati, Ohio, for fifteen months, when,
owing to ill health, she was honorably discharged.
She Avent from Talmage, Ohio, and served under Dr.
Henry Johnson, at least a part of the time.
I know her heart and soul were in the work, and
she never lost her interest in the old soldiers, but
during her last years was the means of securing pen-
sions for some who were under her care in the
hospital.
In F., C. and L.,
Mrs. Nettie E. Wenk.
Knightstown, Ind.
225
226
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. ELIZABETH COPE.
J^ 1861, when the Rebellion broke out, I was living
on a farm in Iowa, with my husband and four
sons, of whom the eldest was eighteen years,
and the youngest one year old. My husband
enlisted in August, 1861 ; but before being sworn in
he became very ill, and died August 31st. The fol-
lov^dng year my eldest son enlisted. He was wounded
during the battle of S]3ringfield ; then followed a long
illness, and the doctors sent him home to die, but
with the aid of careful nursing he recovered suffi-
ciently to re-enlist, and was sent to Omaha, as hospi-
tal steward, and served there until the close of the
war.
I entered a hospital at Keokuk in July, 1862, and
served as ironer until IS^ovember; then I was duly
enrolled as an army nurse, and served until June 26,
1864.
I was the only female nurse in the house, and if
this falls under the observation of the soldiers who
were there at that time, I think many will remember
me. I tried to do all in my power for those who
needed help, and I am very grateful that my efforts
were so highly appreciated.
Mrs. Elizabeth Cope.
528 18th Street, Oakland, Cal.
227
228
OUR ARMY NURSES.
jfj''
MARTHA A. BAKER.
J WAS bom in Concord, IncL, April 9, 1838, a
daughter of Benjamin and Anna Denton. At
the age of sixteen I went to Sugar Grove Insti-
tute. In 1859, my mother and father both
being dead, I was married to Abner Baker. In
February, 1862, my husband enhsted in the 40th
Indiana Vokmteers, leaving me at my brother's with
our little girl. After the battle of Chickamauga he
was sent to Nashville, in charge of twenty-seven
officers. Finding that he was an extra nurse, he
was transferred to the 160th Battalion Yeteran
Relief Corps, and made chief wound-dresser of one
ward in the Officers' Hospital. He then wrote for
me, and I went from Stockwell, Ind., January, 1864,
and was appointed to the Special Diet Kitchen,
under the charge of Major Lyons. At that time
we prepared food for the Officers' Hospital and No.
2, — about five hundred men.
Just before the battle of Atlanta a good many of
the boys went home to vote, and it cut us short of
hands, as we had fifteen hundred to cook for, and but
little help. Our strength was taxed to the utmost.
Sometimes it was almost impossible to keep up, but
with the aid of the Lord, who always strengthens
and prepares the back for the burden, we were
enabled to do our duty, and speak a few words of
comfort to the poor soldiers who were away from
229
230 OUR ARMY NURSES.
home and friends. "We were glad to see our boys
come back from their furlough, and to think they
remembered to bring us some tokens of love from
mother or sister. We shall always remember the
kindness of the soldiers.
Doctor Green, an especial friend of ours, was put
in assistant surgeon, and he often came for my little
girl to go with him to see the patients; he would
laugh and say she did them as much good as he did.
I was there during the battle of I^ashville. Can-
non were placed within one hundred yards of our
building. I saw men bayonetted from the breast-
works. The cannonading was so heavy it shook the
building. There I beheld all the horrors of war, and
after the battle, the sad sight of the ambulances
coming in with their fearful loads.
With almost breaking hearts our hands Avere still
busy caring for the wounded.
I met two soldier girls who had donned the blue.
One, Frances Hook, alias Harry Miller, served two
years and nine months ; the other was called Anna.
She was put under our charge until the military
authorities could send her North.
I left the service in February, 1865.
Yours truly,
Martha A. Baker.
RUSHVILLE, Mo.
232
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. EMMA FRENCH-SACKETT.
' ®T AYING a desire to minister to the needs of
^ our suffering soldiers, I went from Denmark,
^ Iowa, to Chicago, in company with Mrs. Col-
' ^ ton, and reported to Mrs. Livermore, not
knowing whether we should be sent to the front
amid the battlefields, or where our lot would be cast.
February 1, 1864, we were sent to Jefferson ville
General Hospital, where I was assigned to Ward 18,
which was crowded with sick and wounded, so there
was no lack of work to do. And although sad the
office we performed, our hearts were filled with
pleasure in the work we were doing. It was ours to
minister to the wants of mind and body; and when
the poor soldier boy had breathed his last, to write to
his parents, wife or sister, telling of his last hours,
and giving the messages for loved ones at home.
And as we folded the letter inclosing a lock of the
dear one's hair, we prayed that the white-winged
messenger might break the news gently. In this
way an interesting correspondence has been con-
tinued with those whom I have never seen, as they
cling to every item, and long for more incidents of
their dead.
I i-emember one boy, only fifteen years of age, who
had his arm amputated. Gangrene set in, and he
had to endure another amputation; then death
relieved him of his suffering. Poor boy ! You little
233
234 OUR ARMY NURSES.
knew what was in store for you when you enlisted.
And poor mother ! Your fondest hopes were blasted.
Another brave soldier from Minnesota had left one
leg on the battlefield, and lay upon his cot day after
day, mourning for home and loved ones, until his life
went out.
A pale-faced lad, shot through one lung, lay 'twixt
life and death for a long time, then rallied, and the
last I knew he was still alive.
One day a letter was brought to our ward for a
former patient, who had been transferred to the
gangrene ward. I carried it to him, and when his
name was called he responded with uplifted hand,
while the tears ran down his cheeks, so glad was he
to get a word from home.
How bitter was the disappointment of a sister who
came to the hospital to see her brother, only to learn
that he had been transferred to Cincinnati, and that
she must continue her search.
So one after another these incidents crowd upon
the memory. Sad were the scenes when friends
came to see their loved ones, to find that those they
were seeking had been buried a few days before.
On the morning of the 15th of April, when we
beheld the stars and stripes at half-mast, and the
words " Lincoln is dead," passed from lip to lip, all
was hushed. The stillness of death prevailed, and
we questioned, "What next?" for it seemed a ter-
rible crisis. A few of the boys made disloyal
remarks, and the guardhouse was the penalty.
As the war neared its close colored men were
OUR ARMY NURSES. 235
brought to do guard duty, and we held a freedman's
school for a few hours each day in a chapel near. So
eager were they to learn, that it was a pleasure to
teach them.
Our last work was filling out discharge papers for
the soldiers, who were eager to get home, now that
the war was over; and therefore when they were
given that work, soon hunted up their own papers
and were at liberty, leaving Uncle Sam to find new
clerks, which he did among the army nurses.
Our services were appreciated by those among
whom we labored, as testimonials held by more than
one of my colaborers would prove. One day upon
entering my ward I was halted, but instead of being
confronted by sword or bayonet, a purse was put
into my hand, accompanied by a nicely-worded
address, as a token of the regard and gratitude of
my patients. The original address is treasured among
my keepsakes. I was always treated with respect and
kindness while in the service, and those to whom I
ministered seemed to me more like brothers than
strangers.
I went by the authority of Miss Dix, and served
under Miss Buckel for nearly eight months, then
received my discharge Sept. 23, 1865, and returned
to my Iowa home, having no regrets that I had
been an army nurse.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Mks. Emma French-Sackett.
Middle River, Iowa.
236
OUR ARMY NURSES.
SARAH K. CLARK,
ARMY NURSE.
Winona, Minn.
238
OUR ARMY NURSES.
JANE E. DUNBAR.
JSERYED in a hospital on an island in ^ew
York Harbor about four months. Mr. Church
was the steward, and Doctor Smith the surgeon
in charge. I had received a letter from the
steward saying that my husband was very sick, and
in response to my inquiry received a dispatch to go
at once. I reached the hospital the first of August,
1864, and as there were about eight hundred soldiers
there I found plenty of work to do. When I had
been there about a month the surgeon requested me
to cook the extra diet for the sickest men, and I con-
tinued that work three months. The woman who did
it before I went there had forty dollars a month. I
was not paid, and I boarded myself until my money
gave out, then I drew rations with the rest. I think
I never worked so hard in my life.
At length the hospital was needed for the city
poor, so the soldiers were removed to McDougal
Hospital; and as I was not needed there, I re-
turned to my home.
This was in December; so when I applied for a
pension I found that I lacked two months of the
required time of service.
While I was in the hospital a band of ladies came
every week to bring dainties for me to distribute
among the sick ones. At the time the Southerners
undertook to burn some of the buildings in the city
240
OUR ARMY NURSES.
of IS^ew York, two women came to examine our hos-
pital, but thought they could not burn it very
readily. Two of the soldiers who heard them talk-
ing followed them to the city and had them arrested.
There was a great deal to do, and I had to go up
and down three or four flights of stairs constantly ;
but it was hard to leave, too. When I first went
there the soldiers asked me if I was going to stay;
and when I said I would, some of them cried.
It looked very hard to see so many sick and
wounded.
I am now sixty-five years old, and broken down,
but am still al)le to be around a part of the time.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Jaiste E. Dunbar.
Sparta, Wis.
242
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY A. ST1NEBAUGH-3RADFORD.
J WAS born in Gallon, Ohio. My mother's
health was poor, and at an early age I was
her trnsted nurse and overseer of the children,
and preferred this loving service to play. I
attended school at Gallon, Oberlin, and Cleveland,
Ohio, and was a student at Oberlin College when the
war broke out. We were not blind to the fact that
blood must be shed. One of the professors and two
students had already been Imprisoned at Harper's
Ferry. Many of the students had friends in the
Kansas and Missouri troubles, and we were all
wide awake.
My brother, George Stinebaugh, then only twenty-
one years of age, while on his way home from
Kansas, stopped in Illinois and enlisted. He was
wounded at Shiloh, and left on the field until our
men retook it; then was sent to Mound City Hos-
jDital, Cairo, 111.
We received a letter telling us that he had lost a
liml), and asking me to go and nurse him. My father
thought this unsafe, and so he started, but was not
allowed to pass the lines. Later came the news of
his death.
More than a year passed. I expected soon to begin
to teach in a Ladies' Seminary, when an invitation
came to go South, under the leadership of Rev. S. G.
Wright, who had been a missionary among the
244 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Indians for twenty years. After a sleepless night
spent in prayer I was ready to give np my chosen
work, feeling that I conld teach after all this was
over, if I lived to retnrn. My father objected to
my going, but I said, "You have given your boys
to die for their country; now you can give your
girls to nurse them.*"
My aunt came Avhile I was packing my trunk.
"Oh!" she said, "they have all gone! The last
one has enlisted, my five dear sons and my son-in-
law. I have packed the satchels for six. I could
not stay at home, and have walked three miles to
see you and forget ! " " Yes," my mother replied ;
"all our boys have gone, too, and Mary Ann is
going!" Then the brave Spartan mothers tried to
forget their anxiety while packing my trunk.
The youngest son soon returned, one limb shot off;
his cousin, without his right arm; and some never
returned.
Father said : " Mother, can't we send some butter
and fruit? They will need it." Soon forty pounds
of butter and half a barrel of dried fruit was ready,
together with bandages and other supplies. We took
the boat at Cincinnati for Yicksburg, and stop})ed at
Cairo, to see if I could find my brother's grave. We
visited the hospitals at ^Memphis, and found everything
in as good order as war would permit, the hospitals
well supplied with women, both colored and white.
Here I met a doctor, who said: "Did you not have
a brother in Ward D, Mound City Hospital ? I see a
striking resemblance."
Ol'R AR3IV A'URSES. 245
I told hiiu that I did, and he replied: "Well,
Madam, if yon had l)een there yon might have saved
his life. I assisted in ampntating his leg, and he was
doing well, nntil high water compelled ns to move the
sick npstairs. The artery opened while they were
moving him, and the attendant did not know enongh
to pnt his thnmb on and stop the bleeding. When I
reached him he was dead."
We were assigned to Milliken's Bend, twenty miles
above Vicksbnrg, where General Grant dng the
canal, and where the mortality was so great. The
army had been removed, leaving one company to
guard the hospitals, containing the sick.
The next day after onr arrival I was informed that
I was chosen matron. Many of the men had chronic
diseases, that seemed to baffle the skill of the most
competent doctors ; yet the soldiers were hopef nl now
that Union women had come to care for them.
The men in charge were familiarly called the old
and the yonng doctors; bnt their names the finger
of Time has erased from my memory. We com-
menced onr dnties with plenty of Government
rations, a large brick oven, a negro baker, an
Indian cook, and any amonnt of colored people
asking for something to do. All went well nntil
the old doctor sent an order for the sick to have
only two meals a day. This did not meet my appro-
bation, bnt what was I to do? I was only a volnn-
teer; so, also, was the acting chaplain. The old doctor
ontgeneraled ns for a time, for " a soldier's first dnty
is obedience.'' The men complained, and at last we
246 OUR ARMY NURSES.
thought of a phxn by which the Golden Kiile could
be obeyed if only we could find trusty help. An old
colored preacher, who came timidly every Saturday
for help in preparing his sermon "fo' de bredren de
J.iawd's day," assured us he could find " niggers 'nuf
what could be trusted." So while the doctor was in
his office, or taking his afternoon nap, the sick had
their supper.
Christmas Day the commander drew the soldiers
up in front of the hosj^ital, and invited the chaplain
and myself to address them. I congratulated the
men on their temperate habits, emphasizing the
advantage of such a course. In a few days
the men rolled a great barrel up the hill from the
boat. Could it be pork? Was it something nice
for the sick? Ah! it was nothing less than Govern-
ment Avhiskey. Drunkenness became so connnon that
the officers were alarmed. I jDroposed a temperance
pledge, and much good resulted.
The small-pox hospital Avas only a mile down the
river, and the disease was spreading rapidly. One
day we saw some men with shovels hastily leaving a
newly-made grave beside the road along which we
Avere passing. "Whom have you buried there?"
the doctor inquired. "Oh! a small-pox patient,"
was the reply. The doctor told me I was in dan-
ger, and Avarned me to keep out of the I'oad. For-
tunately I escaped the disease.
The troops had been removed, and there were con-
stant rumors of guerrillas, but Ave stood our ground.
Northern people Avent on with the schools and calmed
OUR ARMY NURSES. 247
the fears of the freedmen until shortly before Christ-
mas. Then we saw the fire the outlaws had kin-
dled to destroy ns. The connnander advised all
who could do so to cross the river, and take
refuge in the canebrake, or with a friendly family;
the young doctor, with the help of the colored
assistants, would care for the sick.
While we were away a real blizzard came up, and
large snowflakes filled the air. How frightened the
children were! They had never seen snow before,
and running into the house they tried to hide, and
were terrified to see us go out and enjoy it. The
third day we attempted to return, as Chaplain
"Wright had planned a Christmas tree; but when
our little boat got into the current, the gale was
so strong that it was impossible to cross the bois-
terous river, and we were dashed back to shore.
Another lady and I jumped overboard and waded
to land; the others follov.ed. When the sun went
down we crossed safely.
All was quiet for some time ; then came a lady on
horseback with her husband and brothers. They
had been attacked by the guerrillas, who killed
one man, and swore that they would make a raid on
Milliken's Bend the next night, and the "Yanks
would lose their heads, women first." Again we
fled, as we were assui*ed that they would not harm
the sick. We were none too soon in taking the road
to Yicksburg. As we passed the graveyard, where
about two thousand of Grant's men now slept, the
fire met us, and the chaplain pointed to a hickory
•2 is OUR ARMY NURSES.
tree, near which a vohime of fire and smoke was
issuing from the ground. He tokl us it was buried
cotton burning.
We found Vicksburg overrun with troops, and
fasted one day, if never before. I had suggested
taking a box of hard-taek with us, but every
one assured me we should l)e supphed. ]^ot so.
"Where are you from?'' demanded the officer.
"Milhken's Bend,""' "Well, you have draAvn your
rations;" and not a loaf of bread could be bought.
One of our number had some tea and a few hard-
tacks, and these she divided for our breakfast. We
found a vacant room, and rested until the next morn-
ing. Before daylight we sent to the bakery, but the
soldiers had been there first. They promised to have
some bread soon, and we anticipated what a break-
fast we should have, with some lovely hot bread and
a few dried fish. But, oh, that miserable baker! I
wondered if the soldiers met the same fate. The
bread was not baked an inch deep. We had a good
laugh ; then toasted it on a stick before the grate.
We learned that help was needed at JS^atchez, and
were soon on oin* way, passing the plantation of
Jefferson Davis, and other places of interest. We
often saw bands of guerrillas at a distance, but were
not molested. The prejudice against IS^ortherners
was great in that city. The fort and white tents
were seen in the distance, but where were our men?
We had a letter of introduction to IVIr. Wallace,
and but for that Ave should not soon have found out
anything. We learned that thei-e was not a female
OUR ARMY NURSES. 249
nurse in hospital or camp, and that there was much
suffering-, and need of workers.
So the labor was divided. Some were to look
after Union women and children whose husbands
and fathers had gone into our army, been robbed of
their all, and left to die; others were to teach the
freedmen, others to care for the sick. A confiscated
mansion was turned over to us, with the injmiction to
be no "respecter of persons," but to welcome all who
came, "in the name of the God of the universe."
It was here that Mr. Wright's experience and
sagacity, acquired in the Indian service, became of
great value. He soon canvassed the entire field, and
reported the condition, and Miss Henry and I offered
to nurse in the Marine Hospital. The doctor coolly
informed ns that they were not in need of female
nurses, but that there was a hospital for colored
women, and we might be of service there. Heavy-
hearted we returned to the city, to await further
developments.
Soon we decided to visit the wards after the
doctors had made their morning calls. How glad
I was of this opportunity to give an encouraging
Avoixl, to soften a pillow, or f\in a fevered brow.
One day I noticed that the men were watcliing
us very closely. Finally one asked, "Are yon not
a [N^orthern woman?" "Why, to be sure I am."
"Do you have the papers? Where are they fight-
ing? We should so like to see a paper," I told him
he was too sick to read ; he said, " But you can read
to us, and if you are a ^N^orthern woman you can
250 OUR ARMY NURSES.
write home/' Oh! what an avalanche of questions
followed ; but I took no step until I had spoken to
the chief attendant.
In the spring of 1864, Rev. Mr. Brown and hidy,
he seventy years of age and she sixty-five, estab-
lished a branch of the Christian Commission within
the foi't. As I did not always have the company of
a lady, I thought it wise to call and take Mother
Brown with me. She was a mother not only to me,
but also to the boys in blue. Her presence made
my work much easier. One Sabbath morning in
the spring of 1864 eveiything was quiet. Soldiers
and citizens Avere attending church. The gunboat
had dropped down the river a mile; the fort was
a mile above the landing, and Camp 70, U. S., col-
ored, still a mile beyond.
Suddenly we heard firing, and the answer. The
church was soon emptied, and all was excitement.
The Southerners ran to their homes or places of
safety, the JSTorthern people to the blulF overlooking
the river. We could see the Confederates on the
edge of the timber, about a mile away. They were
commanded by a dashing German general, who rode
a white horse, and wore a large white plume. They
had attempted to cross the river and take our com-
missary stores in Natchez, under the hill. All our
men were gone but some new recruits, and they
were ex-slaves. Would they fight, or would they
cower at the sight of their old masters? See!
see! How they rush forward, hardly waiting for
orders! They do better than the guns that fire on
OUR ARMY NURSES. 251
the enemy from tlie boat. In two honrs they are
cMven from the field, leaving their dead and
wonnded. Three rebel ofiicers were brong'ht to
onr hospital to be cared for. In a few weeks they
were able to be in the sitting-room. Our men
eagerly read the papers, but they shook their
heads. "Gentlemen," I said, "have you been well
treated here?" " Yery well," was the reply. "Don't
you think you were on the wrong side?" "We do
not wish to talk of this matter with a Union lady."
" Yet I have a request to make of you," I answered.
"When our uien fall into your hands, will you not
use your influence to have them treated as well as
you have been? "
The sultry days came, and every time I entered the
w^ard I w ould miss a cot here and there. At last it
was deemed best for us to take a furlough. Our
trunks w^ere packed, and the boats would be up the
river the next day; when, oh, dreadful news! Two
boatloads of soldiers would soon arrive. We hast-
ened to the Marine Hospital, but one load was there
before us; every wai*d was filled, and they were
laying them on the verandas, those dying, blood-
stained men, and there were one hundred and fifty
more to arrive. "And is this war?" we questioned.
Oh, horrible sight! I could not bear it.
When the other boat arrived the men w^ere stored
in a rude building on a bluff overlooking the river.
Soon we leai-ned that the men were suffering for food
and clothing. I procured a basket full of needed
articles, and on my Avay saw an old colored woman
252 OUR ARMY NURSES.
coming out of her shanty. She asked if I was going
to see the Union soldiers, and said : ""^ I's gwine, too.
My ole man says they's starvin', an' I's takin' 'em
some dinner." Then she lifted the snowy cloth, and
I saw beefsteak, butter, warm bread, and vegetables.
I feared the doctor's frowns, but many of the men
relished just such a dinner. As Ave wf^lked toward
home I said: "Aunty, how can you afford this?
Butter is fifty cents a pound, and beefsteak but
little less." " Yo' see, honey, I does washens, an'
de ole man gets jobs, an' us is free."
I must tell you how I came to adopt beautiful
twin boys. I had often heard of them, and how un-
like other colored children they were. One night I
dreamed I was going alone to see the sick, when I
discovered that I was two. I let my parasol fall, and
my other self quickly dismounted and handed it to
me. AYhat could it mean? On my way to the hos-
pital the next time, while talking to their teacher,
the boys came up, and one touched my arm, then ran
away, frightened. We reassured them, and finally
they returned and said : " Aunty is going to die, and
uncle is in the army. He marched by yesterday, and
we ran after him to tell him aunty is sick, but he
did not stop, and we cried. Please, ma'am, won't
you take us to live with your father?" I went with
them to see their aunt. On the way I dropped my
parasol. One of the boys picked it up; the other
said, "I will tote it for you." There was my dream,
and I saw my duty. Their father Avas the son of a
judge in Tennessee, and was treated as a son until he
OUR ARMY NURSES. 253
was seventeen years of age. Then he wished to go
to school with his half brothers, and this enraged
their mother, who said : ^^ Yon are a negro. You
cannot learn." ^' Have I not learned as nnich as my
brothers, and do I not stay in the office with fjither?"
he cried. In a short time he went, unsuspectingly,
with a stranger on an errand, as he supposed; but
he never saw his home again.
As I passed to and fro, I often noticed a little
yellow girl perched ujDon a fence. One day I said,
"See here, little Topsy, do you know you are free?"
" IN^o, missy." " Well, you are, and there is a school
at the Baptist Church for you. JN^ow go and tell
your mistress to send you there, or she will lose
you." The next day she was at the same place
watching the " Yanks." " Why are you not at
school?" "^My missy say you ^Yanks' better go
home an' let our city 'lone, or de break-bone fever
will cotch yo'."
Thus the work went on, with many interi'uptions
and drawbacks, for about a year, while we did what
we could for both patients and freedmen. Then I
returned to my home.
Mary A. STEsrEBAuGH-BRADroRD.
Miller, South Dakota.
254
OUR ARMY NURSES.
\
..Tn
MISS MARY VENARD.
JWE^N'T out under Governor Morton\s first call
for nurses, commissioned by Mr. Ilannaman,
Sanitary Agent for the State of Indiana. This
was Feb. 4, 1863. I was then forty-one years
of age. I was first sent to ]N^ashville, Tenn., fi3r
three months, but stayed six. Was in the Howard
High School Building, and had charge of the Diet
Kitchen, but at the same time I did a great deal of
nursing.
As a compliment to my cooking I received a very
beautiful and practical cook-book, which I never felt
that I deserved.
From JSTashville I returned to my home, where 1
remained ten weeks ; then received strict orders to go
immediately to Natchez, Miss. I was in the Marine
Hospital, and the fort was built up around us. This
was the fall after the siege of Yicksburg, and for
days and days we expected to be attacked, and had
everything in readiness to be removed at a moment's
notice. General Thomas came down the river with
his regiment, and sent out his soldiers to reconnoiter,
and that stopped it. The surgeon in charge pro-
posed that if we wei-e attacked, I should leave imme-
diately with him in the ambulance. His very kind
offer I declined, telling him if I had to leave, it
would be at the last moment; then I would run down
the hill, and, if necessary, defend myself.
255
256 OUR ARMY NURSES.
I was at IS^atchez one j^ear and six months; then
returned to my home, but received a telegram the
next day calling me to Indianapolis, Ind. There I
took charge of the Kefugee Home, that was jointly
conducted by the Sanitary Commission and citizens,
and had the name of being one of the best houses on
the line. When warm weather came we secured
homes for those who wished to stay; others were
sent Avherever they wanted to go. This home was
closed immediately after the assassination of Pi-esi-
dent Lincoln. I next went to the Ladies' Home in
Indianapolis, and remained until fall, when I went to
Cam}) Morton, to help close that. In three months
more, the war being over, I was honorably discharged
by Mr. Hannaman, and returned to my home in Terre
Haute, where I have lived ever since. I receive
twelve dollars a month pension, and this is very
acceptable, as I am not able to do much work. Two
years ago I received from [N'ational Headquarters of
the W. R. C. a beautiful nurse's certificate, which I
api)reciate very much. I am a member of John P.
Baird Corps.
Christmas Eve a number of members of Morton
Post, G. A. R., called at my home in a body, and the
commander, in a very nice speech, presented the pin I
have on in the picture. It was an honor of which I
am justly proud.
During my sei'vice as army nurse I received from
my patients many tokens of friendship and esteem,
among them three pieces of poetry, one thanking me
OUR ARMY NURSES.
257
for a bouquet of rare wild flowers I had gathered on
the bluffs. The followiug is a part of another: —
TO A STRANGER.
" Your generous acts and noble deeds,
Like fragrant flowers 'midst noxious weeds,
Have won my admiration :
Your care for one who's far away
From those who for his safety pi'ay.
Inspires my veneration.
" Like angel visits, deeds so rare
Awake our inmost, earnest prayer
For blessings on the stranger ;
And oft we breathe the prayer of love
To Him who reigns in heaven above,
To shield you from all danger.
"And though, perhaps, we ne'er shall meet
Till summoned to the Mercy Seat,
Your image I will cherish.
Amid the memories of my heart.
Sweet thoughts of you will share a part,
Till earthly dreams shall perish."
Miss Mary Yenard.
6733^ Wabash Avk., Tkrke Haute, Ind.
258
OUR ARMY NURSES.
/m '^:
MRS. ELIZABETH THOMPSON.
JE:N^LISTED at Plattsburg, :N'. Y., under Cap-
tain Moore, and served under him for three
months at Sackett's Harbor, where I was the
first matron, having my daughter with me as an
assistant. Here we had to work very hard, cleaning
the hospital as well as caring for the sick, and trying
to make everything as homelike as possible under
the circumstances. The beef and the bread were an
especial trial. At last my husband, who was the
hospital steward, told the doctor about it, and at his
request a loaf of the bread was brought for the
doctor to see. He stood looking at it for some time,
then said, " Well, there will be more sick ones than
there are at present if they have to eat such stuff."
We told him we could make the bread if only we
had the material; and in a short time a barrel of flour
arrived. As I was sick my daughter made the
bread. When the doctor came the next time he
inquired how we managed, and my husband showed
him a loaf. He looked very much pleased, and said,
" Oh, we can get along nicely, now that we have that
little baker." From that time we made the bread, in
addition to our other duties.
On leaving Sackett's Harbor we went to Fort
Niagara for three • months, making in all six
months of service; then, the war being ended, we
were discharged.
Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson.
Vilas Home. Pi.attsburg, N. Y.
260
OUR ARI\iy NURSES.
HANNAH L. PALMER.
Fl
T^A^XAH LATHROP PALMER was bom in
Peterboro, Madison County, ]S^. Y., Jan. 28,
1827. Her father was a lawyer, a man of fine
^-^ education and abilities, conscientious and up-
right in his life and business relations; often fill-
ing positions of high public trust and responsibility.
The mother was of the Eastern family of Lathrop,
and affectionately seconded all her husljand\s plans
for the education and welfare of their three daughters,
of whom the subject of this sketch was the eldest.
In this family the principles of civil and religious
liberty, and the practice of advanced thinking and
living, were paramount, the father finding his place
among the original Aljolitionists, and taking his share
of the obloquy and suspicion which fell to the lot of
those who advocated the then unpo^mlar principles of
human equality and brotherhood.
For nearly his lifetime he was associated with
Gerrit Smith in the work of the ^"^ Underground
Railroad," as a tempei-ance worker, a neighbor, and
friend. He died at the age of fifty-six years, leav-
ing to the mother and eldest daughter the care of
his property and family.
Miss Palmer's jjrofession was that of teacher, and
she spent many years in higher-grade schools, finally
carrying on for five years a boarding and day school
of her own in Canastota, where she still resides.
262 OUR ARMY NURSES.
At the oj:)^!!!!^ of the war her school was closed,
as were many others ; and feeling sure from the logic
of events, the records of history, and the current
political indications, that the death-knell of slavery
was about to sound, she went heart and soul into the
work of helping on, were it in ever so humble a way,
the giant task before the nation of casting off its
bonds, and making itself free indeed before all the
peoples of the earth.
At once she commenced collecting money and
supplies, serving as secretary and treasurer of the
Soldiers' Aid Society in her own town, and as soon
as the Sanitary Commission was organized, sending
to it whatever was collected, for more than two
years.
After the Proclamation of Emancipation and the
virtual overthrow of slavery, Miss Palmer shared in
the joy of those who saw a brighter future for the
dear native land; and though that land was still
overshadowed by the dark cloud of war, she never
doubted the final result. But the cry of the prisoner
was ever sounding, and the sufferings of the wounded
were ever before her, and she felt she must give
more efficient aid in the great struggle.
More nurses were called for, and a correspondence
was opened with Miss Dix, which resulted in the
acceptance of Miss Palmer's services; and Miss Dix,
in her usual energetic manner, hastened her depart-
ure, writing, " I already have five good Miss Palmers
in the service, and think you will make the sixth."
Leaving her widowed mother in the care of friends,
OUR ARMY NURSES. 263
she reached the residence of Miss Dix kite on a dark
night in the middle of April, 1864, and was kindly
received by the honsekeeper, who said: "Miss Dix
has gone on business to the surgeon-general's, but
will soon return. She has been looking for yon all
day." Soon Miss Dix came in with cordial greetings,
saying : " I am really glad you have come ; we need
help very much. AVe shall soon have severe fight-
ing." !N"ext morning after breakfast that noble
woman attended prayers, beseeching earnestly that
the terrible war-cloud might be lifted from the
nation; that all who Avere working in the great
cause of freedom might stand firm for the right;
and that the one who had just come to help in the
work might be aided and strengthened to do good
service. It was like a benediction, serving as an
inspiration, and fixing more firmly a determination to
do all possible, in the midst of perils, to relieve the
suffering and save the lives of our brave soldiers.
Miss Palmer was sent at once to Columbia College
Hospital; Thomas R. Crosby, surgeon in charge.
All nurses going there held themselves in readiness
to go wherever help might be needed. For a few
days there was little to do, as nearly all the patients
were convalescent; and in this interval of leisure,
newcomers were directed to look about town, and
visit the public buildings, sometimes helping to repair
hospital garments, in anticipation of the great battle
all knew was coming. Miss Palmer was retained in
service here, and writes : " I had a great dread of
seeing suiFering, and early in May, after we knew
264 OCJJ^ AR3rV NURSES.
that fighting had coniinenced, and the battle of the
Wilderness was in progress, I could not sleep, but
often sat for houi-s in the deep windows of my room,
during the night, listening for the coming of the
ambulances bringing the wounded.
" At length on one bright day they came, — eight
hundred men, — some able to walk from the steamer
upon which they had been brought up the Poto-
mac; some wei-e taken from the ambulances already
dead, others bleeding and nearly exhausted. When
the work was once before me I felt no more dread,
but with a grateful heart that 1 was permitted to
enter this service, I henceforth wished no rest nor
ease."
Many of the wounds made at the battle of the
Wilderness were of a very painful nature ; the balls
often striking against trees, and becoming flattened,
glanced, and then, entering the flesh, tore their way
with ragged edges, sometimes leaving in the Avounds
bits of bark or moss. And how tired the poor fellows
wei'e ! Days and nights of weary marching with the
excitement and wounds of battle, or severe sickness,
had left many nearly bereft of strength and life.
At this time a large number of wall tents were
being erected on the college campus, and as soon as
they were in readiness Miss Palmer was placed in
charge of the Seventh AVard, consisting of twelve
tents, each containing ten patients. Mrs. Blanchard,
of Syracuse, her roommate and co-workei*, had
been sent to the front with several others of long
experience.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 265
From the battlefield of ]S^orth Anna, in the latter
])art of May, and that of Cold Harbor, June 1st
to 12th, many wounded were received. The heat
having become intense, and the flies and other insects
numerous, it was very difficult to make the sick and
wounded comfortable. Those who had been lonofest
in the service said it was the most fearful summer
the}' had seen.
About July 10th occurred " Early's Raid in Mary-
land," and for several days it was feared that the
enemy would take Washington. Every hospital
turned out all its convalescents who were able to
march; and the home guards, marines, department
clerks, and citizens hastened to the front in defense
of the city, and to the aid of the 6th and 2d Divisions
of the 19th Army Corps.
Fort Stevens was then attacked, and one night the
danger was so imminent that Mr. Lincoln, who was
with his family at his summer residence near the
Soldiers' Home, Avas brought by his escort into the
city for safety. Upon llth Street for days there
was constant marching of troops, and passing of
artilleiy and amlmlances. The women of this hos-
pital filled the haversacks of their boys with every
thing needful, and three hundred convalescents were
sent to the front. Then with anxious hearts they
listened to the booming of the guns; watching by
night from the cupola of the college the camp-fires
of the op})osing forces, and by day the signaling with
flags at the forts. A week after the battle, eight of
the ladv nurses were taken in an ambulance to the
266 OUR ARMY NURSES.
battlefield, which presented a scene of desolation
indescribable. Rifle-pits had been dug along the
roadsides, and dozens of chimneys were standing
solitary, where once had been happy homes, —
their gardens desolated, and vines trailing in the
dust. Among the residences burned was that of
Postmaster- General Blair. Several fathers, mothers,
and friends were on the field, with ambulances or
carriages, looking among the half-buried bodies for
the remains of husband or son.
The weary sunnner passed in hard work, and
anxiety for the sufferers in charge, and with waver-
ing hopes for the country, as the tide of war surged
onward. Many poor fellows, too badly wounded to
live, passed from earth to their reward, as martyrs
to their love of country ; and often sorrowing friends
came to bear away the remains of their beloved
dead.
There were many very painful and impressive
scenes, but there was no time to stop and think.
The sound of the " Dead March " seemed to be
ever in the air as those who had passed away
were taken to their resting places in Arlington.
And as some j^oor fellow in his delirium, or in the
weakness of his last hour, reached to take the hand of
the nurse, with the cry, ^^ Oh, mother, mother ! " she
felt that it was indeed a great privilege to be per-
mitted to minister to those noble defenders of the
flag and of "the dear native land," in their suffer-
uig and last agony.
In October a large number of sick pien were
OUR ARMY NURSES. 267
brought from the 19th Corps, one division of
which had been for a long time detained in a
malarious region in Texas; the Seventh Ward
receiving among them a case of small-pox, but it
was discovered before there was danger of con-
tagion.
In November, all the men able to travel were
allowed to go to their homes to vote, it being the
time of the re-election of President Lincoln. Great
enthusiasm prevailed, and the prospects of the
country seemed to brighten.
Thanksgiving Day was a joyful one for "the
boys." Seventy-five turkeys had been sent from
Massachusetts, and were prepared with the usual
accompaniments for the great dinner. The unani-
mous verdict was, "This seems like home," with
" Three cheers for Massachusetts ! "
On Christmas Day several visitors came in, some
bringing flowers; the Sanitary Commission furnish-
ing for the men, as they often had done before, sup-
lies of pipes and tobacco, socks, mittens, fruits,
stationery, etc.
On ^ew Year's Day, 1865, several of the nurses
found time to attend Mr. Lincoln's usual reception
at the White House, which always was a very popu-
lar occasion. In the evening an entertainment was
given by the nurses to " the boys," which had been
for several days in course of preparation, — consist-
ing of recitations, speeches, pantomimes, etc., inter-
spersed with music.
About January 15th, Miss Palmer received a mes-
268
OUR ARMY NURSES.
sage calling her home for a time; and as there was
little work to be done just then at the hospital, Miss
Dix gave lier leave of absence, stipnhiting that if
there shonld be more fighting, and help needed, she
should return.
Taking an affectionate leave of her "boys," and
the lady friends with whom she had been so long-
associated, she took, as it proved, a final leave of
hospital life, having served there nine months.
In 1883, Miss Palmer was elected an honorary
member of Keese Post, No. 49, G. A. P., Canastota,
]^. Y., and in 1891 was granted a special pension of
twelve dollars per month. She helped to organize
Peese Pelief Corps, ]S'o. 77, in Se]3tember, 1892 ; was
one of its charter members, and has been three times
re-elected president, which office she now holds.
Looking back from this year (1895) upon those
dark days of war, she can but be grateful for the
happy and honorable ending of the strife, and for
the past prosperity of the country, feeling sure that
" righteousness exalteth a nation, but sin is a
reproach to any people."
Her address is
Hannah L. Palmer.
Canastota, N. Y.
270
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY M. RRIGGS.
^nnpY grandfather was with "Washington at Valley
If I Forge, and through the entire war. My father
f ^ was a "■' Connecticut Yankee," so we children
■^^^ received many lessons on patriotism, and it is
no wonder that when our beloved land was threatened,
my three brothers enlisted at once in her defense, as
did my husband, also, and I applied at once to Miss
Dix for a connnission as nurse. It was granted June
19, 1861, and in August I was summoned to St.
Louis to my work. I was then a resident of Madi-
son, Wis., and was the first enlisted nurse from that
State, under James Yeatman, president of the Sani-
tary Commission.
I was assigned to duty at the Good Samaritan
Hospital, where I cared for the brave boys, to the
best of my ability, until I was sent to fronton, Mo.,
in 1862. From thei-e I went to Ilai-vey Hospital,
Madison, Wis., in 1863, where I remained until the
close of the war.
Among the greatest comforts of my declining
years is the love I feel for my native land; the
knowledge that I was counted worthy to aid, if ever
so little, in the effort to preserve it, and in teaching
my gi-andchildren and others lessons of patriotism.
My dear husband readied home, but only to die in
1866. Two of my brothers have passed over before
me; one from severe wounds received at Atlanta,
272
OUR ARMY NURSES.
Ga., the other from his sufferings in Andersonville.
Thank God I have hved to see slaver}^ al)olished,
and our hmd free indeed, ^ow I am waiting the
summons to join my loved ones in that land where
war is unknown.
I am an invalid, and seventy-four years of age.
I cannot say very much for myself, but this is all
that needs to be said, — I tried to do my duty.
Maky M. Briggs.
720 St. Chakles St., Elcix III.
274
OUR ARMY NURSES.
LAURAETTA C. BALCH.
AYEKT alone fi-om Boston to Fort Schuyler,
K Y., Oct. 18, 1862, and was the first lady
nurse on the ground. Everything was in a
very rough condition, — just thrown together.
The barracks were a shelter for the sick and wounded,
and that was about all. There were thirty- two
wards, with fifty-two beds in each. Miss "Williams,
or Sister Nettie "Williams, as we called her, was at
the head of the department. She Avas a Boston lady,
who did good service, devoting time and money to
our soldiers. I have regretted that I did not keep a
diar}^, as I have forgotten many who I should be
glad to remember. But they were constantly coming
and going, and those were busy times; still, I recall
many of the nurses, who were beautiful and devoted
characters.
As a rule my " boys " were a happy set of sufferers,
more especially those who could get about on their
crutches ; and in their efforts to be cheerful and help
others pass the weary hours, they often seemed to
forget their own suffering.
I remained in that hospital during the fifteen
months of m}^ service, going from ward to ward
where there was the most to be done.
I returned to Boston in January, 1864.
Lauraetta C. Balch.
Lowell, Mass.
27G
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY A. ELLIS.
J ASSISTED my husband to raise a regiment, the
1st Missouri Vohmteer Cavahy, of which he
was made colonel, with the understanding that
I should accompany him to the field, which I
did ; going in my own carriage, and taking with me
a colored man and woman. I carried my own tent,
and everything I needed, so that I was no expense to
the Government.
The regiment went into camp at St. Louis the 1st
of August, 1861. Soon the measles broke out, and
I began my services as nurse there, and continued
them until after the battle of Pea Ridge, March,
1862. In camp, on the march, or in the hospital, —
when we had one, — there was no part of the work of
a nurse that I did not do, even to assisting in sur-
gical operations, particularly at the battle of Pea
Ridge, where I stood at the surgeon's table, not one
or two, but many hours, with the hot blood steaming
into my face, until nature rebelled against such
horrible sights and I fainted, but as soon as possible
I returned. Our regiment was in the cavalry charge
at Sugar Creek, and many of our men were killed and
wounded. I was there with my carriage on the field,
and brought in the first wounded to the house that
was made to do duty for a hospital, and continued to
care for the needy until Api'il, 1862.
Once in October, 1861, one of our oflftcers was left
277
278 OUR ARMY NURSES.
with the rebels, and was very sick. It was at the
close of a hard day's march, and his captain came to
me to know what could be done. I went on horse-
back alone, with the determination to find him, and
care for him, if possible, and had the pleasure of being*
the means of saving his life.
In ^November the regiment surgeon gave a sick
man an overdose of narcotics, and I found him lying
by the wayside. I took him into my carriage, and
sent to the front for his captain. As soon as possible
I got him into a house, and laid him on the floor,
where to all appearances the man died. I heard the
doctor explaining why he died, but I coidd not be-
lieve that life was extinct. I tried to revive him,
the doctors meanwhile making light of my efforts.
Soon the man caught his breath, with a convulsive
movement, while the five doctors turned and left the
room. The captain and I soon bad him all right,,
and in two weeks he reported for duty, and served
until the close ' of the war. This act called down on
my poor head the bitter enmity of the doctor; and,
later, when he was either dismissed or court-mar-
tialed, he blamed me for it, though unjustly. The
affair was no secret ; hundreds knew what the doctor
had done, and that I saved the man.
Some time near the middle of October, 1861, it was
my privilege to carry an important dispatch from
G-eneral Hunter to General Price. The guerrillas
and bushwhackers were so plentiful that the cars on
the ^N^orthern Missouri Railroad could not run. The
telegraph lines wxre all cut off, and any Union
OUR ARMY NURSES. 279
soldier or stranger unlucky enough to be canght
beyond the camp was shot immediately. I received
the dispatch from General Hunter at 9 A. M., and
placed it in the hands of General Price, at Jefferson
City, at 5 p. m. the same day, having ridden forty
miles.
By request of the chief of the Goverment Detect-
ive Force I acted as detective.
At last I was taken sick, and was carried to St.
Louis. It was two months before I was able to
stand, and I did not recover sufficiently to return to
camp.
I was not mustered in, or appointed by any one.
My service was entirely voluntary, and I have never
received any pay. On the contrary, I spent thousands
of dollars in raising the regiment and caring for the
sick.
It would be useless for me to attempt to write an
extended account of my experiences. It would only
stir up memories of a pleasant home with my husband
and son. I had but this one child, and I willingly
gave him to my country's service ; she sent him back
to me crippled and maimed for life. Two years ago
he went to join the great army on the shores of
eternity ; and oh ! I want to go to him, — and as I am
quite old, it must be soon. I am a physician, but my
work is done ; I am not able to leave my room.
Yours respectfully,
Mary A. Ellis.
1025 West Washington Street,
Indianapolis, Ind.
280
OUR ARMY NURSES.
LOUISA C. KAMP.
J IS" response to a call for nurses to go South, to
care for the sick and wounded, I volunteered,
and sailed from New York somewhere between
the 5th and the 10th of March, 1863, under
orders to report at Hilton Head, S. C; but upon
my arrival I was sent to Beaufort, where a place was
assigned me in a hospital, under Surgeon Merritt at
first, then under Surgeon Hayden, who took his
place. After serving there until the last of August
I became very sick with malaria, and returned home
on a furlough, intending to resume the work soon ;
but I did not recover sufficiently to do so.
Louisa C. Ivamp.
Merrimacport, Mass.
281
282
OUR ARMY NURSES.
M. P. FELCH.
)MA:N^DA M. COLBURIS^ was boin in West
Glover, Yermont, l^ov. 12, 1833, Her father
was a fanner in moderate circumstances, and
having only one boy, a share in the out-door
work was often given to Amanda. This early train-
ing proved of inestimable value to her in later years,
when a large reserve of physical strength was so
necessary to enable her to endure, with comparative
ease, the long marches where hundreds of men were
overcome ; as during the Peninsular, Gettysburg, and
other campaigns. At about twenty-three years of
age she was first married, and it was as Mrs. Farn-
ham that she became so well known in the Army of
the Potomac.
In the summer of 1861, left alone with her little
boy and in poor health, she returned to the old home
to find the family in great trouble. Henry, her
brother, had enlisted in the 3d Yermont Pegiment,
whereupon she left her child with her parents, and
followed her brothei-; partly to relieve the great
anxiety respecting the only son, partly from a
desire to help in the struggle just at hand. En-
listing at St. Johnsbury, about July 5, 1861, she was
enrolled as a member of the 3d Yermont Regiment,
and appointed hospital matron. They were mus-
tered in July 11th, left the State on the 23d, arrived
at Washington the 26th, and the next day went six
283
284 OUR ARMY NURSES.
miles up the river to Camp Lyon, near Chain Bridge,
on the Maryland side of the river, where they
remained in camii till September 8th; then crossed
into Virginia and fortified a hill, which was called
Fort Smith, in honor of the colonel of the regiment.
About this time something occurred that later
became a theme for romance and poetry. Willie
Scott, a private in Company K, 3d Vermont, was
found sleeping at his post, tried, found guilty, and
condemned to be executed, but at almost the last
moment was pardoned by President Lincoln. Mrs.
Farnham had known the boy from a child, and took
a deep interest in his case. Seven months later at
Lee's Mills, on the Peninsula, when he was shot, she
assisted at his burial.
During the fall and winter, sickness and death
from disease assumed such alarming proportions that
a special corps of noted physicians was sent to
advise and aid the medical officers now in the field ;
but the mortality was not checked until spring.
During this period Mrs. Farnham worked almost
constantly.
In December, 1861, she was dropped from the rolls
as matron of the 3d, for the Government would no
longer recognize the position; but she still continued
her work, and until the Wilderness campaign in 1864,
occupied a different position than most female army
nurses, as she did not do regular ward duty, but
went from one regiment to another, wherever she was
most needed. Day or night it made no difference,
she always responded to the call, and would stay
OUR ARMY NURSES. 285
until the crisis was passed, or death had reheved the
patient of his suffering.
But it was to the boys, like her brother, that her
heart went out with greatest sympathy. Writing
letters for such was a daily practice, and when there
was no hope she would record the dying request, and
take care of some keepsake to be sent to friends at
home. Before a battle it became a common thing
for soldiers, especially of the Vermont troops, to
intrust her with money or other valuables for safe-
keeping, until an event occurred after which she
dared no longer accept the responsibility. During
the battle of Chancellorsville she had an unusual
amount of money, which she carried in a belt on her
person, and other things of value in a hand bag.
After getting into quarters on our side of the
river she put up a tent, as it was raining, and, for
the first time in several nights, took off the belt and
put it with the bag on the ground under the mat-
tress. Probably this was all seen in her shadow on
the tent-cloth, by some one watching for that pur-
pose. She had just fallen asleep when she became
conscious that some one was trying to get in; but
the flap strings had been drawn inside and tied
tightly around the pole, so that plan was aban-
doned, and the robber passed around the tent.
Fully aroused, Mrs. Farnham now crept from the
blankets, and finding her revolver, awaited results.
Her first thought was to give an alarm, but she knew
\ that the thief could easily escape in the darkness
\ and return later. As no entrance could be found,
286 OUR ARMY NURSES.
he cut a long slit in the tent, to reach through. Up
to the time that the knife began its work she had not
realized how serious was her situation; now she hesi-
tated no longer, but, aiming as well as she could in
the darkness, fired. An exclamation and the sound
of hurried footsteps was all she heard. The next
morning news came that one of the new recruits was
sick, having been wounded by the " accidental dis-
charge of a pistol in the hands of a chum," and. she
did not ask to have the case investigated.
In March, 1862, the command went to Fortress
Monroe to enter upon the campaign of the Penin-
sula, through which she marched with the troojDS,
shared their hardships and fare, and was actually on
the field at Lee's Mills, "Williamsburg, Golding's
Farm, Savage Station, Glendale, and Malvern Hill,
and in the " seven days " retreat from Richmond
back to Harrison's Landing, where they remained till
sent to Washington, in August. She not only walked
in the rain from Malvern Hill to Harrison's Landing,
through mud knee-deep, but also helped soldiers by
the way. In August she went home with some sick
and wounded soldiers, and did not return until the
battle of Antietam. Arriving at Washington on
Sunday the llth, and finding where the army was
supposed to be, she tried to get a pass to the front
that day, but failed. The next morning she went to
Secretary Stanton herself, and received not only her
pass, but also an order for an ambulance. She
arrived at Antietam the afternoon of the 17th, and
immediately went to work among the wounded of
OUR ARMY NURSES. 287
French's Division, there peforming her first and only
surgical operation. A soldier had been struck in the
right breast by a partly spent ball, but with force
enough to follow around the body under the skin,
stopping just below the shoulder-blade. Taking the
only implement she had, a pair of sharp button-hole
scissors, and pinching the ball np with the thumb
and finger, she made a slight incision and pressed the
ball out.
It was shortly after this, while at Hagerstown, that
she met Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, and promised to do all
she could to see that the supplies they sent were given
to the most needy. The command remained here
imtil the latter part of October, 1862, then started
for "on to Richmond" for the third time. December
13th came Fredericksburg, with all its horrors; the
Yermonters suffering severely, and Mrs. Farnham,
who was stationed at the Bernard House, worked
with the wounded without rest until getting back to
the old camps at White Oak Church, where the win-
ter passed very pleasantly.
In May, 1863, the campaign opened with Chancel-
lors ville, and the brigade lost nearly three hundred
in killed and wounded, — Mrs. Farnham doing her
usual efiicient work. Again the army had to retreat
to its old camps, to remain until the march to Gettys-
burg. When there, through the influence of Mrs.
Baxter, she was permitted to keep a two-horse team,
to take along supplies on the march. When in camp
the boys could usually procure for themselves what
they needed, but on the march they often suffered
288 OUR ARMY NURSES.
severely. Such articles as shirts, socks, etc., coffee,
sugar, condensed milk and canned goods, she carried,
and gave where most needed.
It was a weary march from the Rappahannock to
Gettysbnrg, made more so by the night marches,
always so trying. The last day they went thirty-
four miles over a stone road, and under a burning
sun. It is n(^w simply a matter of history that the
Sixth Corps marched from ]Manchester to Gettsyburg
from daylight until 4 o'clock p. m., and it was the
greatest feat in marching ever accomplished by any
troops under like conditions. Mrs. Farnham went
with them, and most of the way on foot, giving up
the spare room on her wagon to Avorn-out soldiers
who could not find room in the crowded ambulances.
A ride for an hour for one, and he could walk on
again for a time, giving his place to another. Thus
many moi'e were able to keep along than would have
been without such help. Again, when she found a
poor fellow with blistered feet, she gave him a pair
of new socks to take the place of the holes, all that
was left of his own. The stoiy of her work all
night after such a day, has been told in print many
times: how a guard was placed over a certain pump
at the request of the ladies of the house, as they
feared the well would go dry, and they be obliged to
go to Rock Creek, a quai-ter of a mile distant, for
water, — little caring how far the exhausted soldiers
had to go. Bnt some of the boys, knowing Mrs.
Farnham was near, got her to pmnp for them; and
when complaint was made the guai-d said his orders
OCR ARMY NURSES. 289
did not include women, so she could get all the water
she wanted. In tliis work, and caring for the wounded
of Sickles Corps, who filled all the barns and out-
buildings on the place, she remained all night
long.
Few of the Sixth Corps were wounded at Gettys-
burg, but she Avas busy among others, until the
division left there. In following up Lee, and at
Funkstown, the Vermont Brigade suffered severely.
Among those killed was an old acquaintance, and
she olitained permission to take his body and two
others home. She was absent two weeks, joining
the army near AVarrenton. From that time until
Grant was preparing to make the final move against
Richmond, she was quietly occupied with regular
duties, and until May expected to go to the front
Avith the troops as before; but Stanton ordered that
^' no women, no matter who they are," should be
allowed in the army longer. A large petition pray-
ing that she might go was presented, but he was
obdurate, writing on the back, "Mrs. Farnham's
request has the highest recommendations, but is
incompatible with the public service." So ended
all her preparations of the winter for the summer's
campaign. Hardly three days of grace remained in
which to dispose of her team and other personal
property, and so it was at great personal loss that
she left the army about the 1st of May, 1864. She
was in Fredericksburg on the 9th, where twenty thou-
sand Union troops were lying; and here, for about
the first time, she was a regular army nurse,
290 OUR ARMY NURSES.
appointed by Miss D. L. Dix. She so remained
until discharged in June, 1865.
She used to like to tell of her first interview with
Miss Dix. From the time she entered the army,
Mrs. Farnham had worn a dress similar to the ladies'
cycling costume of the present, — full pants button-
ing over the tops of her boots, skirts falling a little
below the knee, and a jacket with tight sleeves.
This dress she had on when she called to present her
papers and request. Miss Dix glanced at the papers,
then looked Mrs, Farnham over from head to foot,
until the situation was becoming embarrassing.
Finally she arose, saying: "Mrs. Farnham, the dress
you wear is ahominahle., a most abomina])le dress,
and I do not wish any of my nurses to dress in that
manner; but you came highly recommended, and I
have long known of your Avork, but I clidnH know
you wore such a dress. However, you can Avear it if
you choose." Then she Avrote an order for her to
report at Fredericksburg. From that time until after
the war closed she was one of Miss Dix's trusted
nurses, and was charged with duties and commis-
sions at the front that she would trust to no one else ;
and though they met many times when Mrs. Farn-
ham wore the same dress, it was not mentioned again.
M. P. Felch.
{^For his vv'fe Amanda, deceased.)
Canox City, Colorado.
292
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY E. MOORE.
J WAS a])pointcd hospital matron by Colonel
Smith, of the 58th Regiment, Illinois "Volun-
teers, in l^ovember, 1861, at Camp Douglas,
Chicago, and served there until some time in
February, when our regiment left for Cairo, 111.; then
went to Fort Donaldson, Tenn., where I helped to
care for the sick and wonnded during the battle, and
afterwards on a hospital steamer. I next accom-
panied a party of soldiers to Cairo, where I cared for
them until all but one were able to leave the hospital.
While at Fort Donaldson I have sometimes gone
two or three days without any sleep, and with only
an occasional cup of coiFee or some hard-tack, which I
would eat as I Avent in and out among the sick. At
one time all the sleep I had for three nights was
on the bare floor, between my husband and a sick
soldier, and with my husband's arm for a pillow.
^o one but the poor boys themselves can imagine
as we nui'ses can what suffering they had to endure
during the Kebellion. I recall one poor old colored
man who had borne a great deal, having been shot
several times. I took eighteen buckshot out of his
back one day.
I was in the hospitals something over nine months;
then my husband died, and I returned to my home.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Mary E. Moore.
King City, Mo.
294
OUR ARMY NURSES.
LOIS H. DUNBAR.
^Y war record is one of hard lalior and severe
trials. I went from Michigan City, Ind., to
St. Louis, ]S^ov. 10, 1861. Doctor Hodges
^■^^ was the surgeon in charge. Tliere were one
thousand patients; Mrs. Harriet Colefax and I
having three hundred under our immediate charge
most of the time, when the wounded were brought
off the boats from Fort Donaldson. I thought we
should never be able to do our duty by so many, but
we worked as only women can; and my experience
there is something I shall never forget. I picked
my way among them as they were brought in, often
where it was hard to find standing room, and ren-
dered what aid I could to the worst cases. One poor
fellow had died on the Avay, his spurs still on when
we found him.
In April, 1862, Governor Morton sent a request
for Mrs. Colefax and I to report at Evansville, Ind.,
as there were a great many there who were very
sick, and no nurses. Doctor De Bruler was surgeon
in charge of Hospital ^o. 2, and I was sent there,
but Mrs. Colefax went down the Mississippi. I was
placed in full charge, and was really commanding
otficer and nurse, besides having iive other hospitals
to look after. In September, 1862, I received a com-
mission from Miss Dix. The surgeons had wanted
me to be inspector of all the hospitals there, but
•296 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Doctor De Bruler objected, as he needed me; and,
besides, I felt that I could be of more use as a mirse.
Twice I went down the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers
after the sick, and at Satartia, on the Yazoo, was
under fire from the rebels, but our gunboats soon
disabled them. We had a small battle, and took a
church, which we fitted up for a hospital. We took
some on the boat, gathering up three hundred on the
return.
I was at Young's Point the time of the bombard-
ment of Yicksburg. On that trip my feet were so
badly blistered that I had to be carried in a chair
from the landing to the hospital. I was just ex-
hausted, and ftiinted when taken to ni}^ room, but
was soon ready again for duty.
I have had men die clutching my dress till it was
almost impossible to loose their hold. I have often
taken young boys in my arms when they were so
tired they could not rest in their beds, and held them
as I would my own little boys. I never Avent to the
ward with a sad face, but always had a smile and a
cheery word for all. The doctor used to say he
knew when I was ahead of him, for tlie patients
had such pleasant countenances.
I had " saddle-bag pockets,"' and used to carry little
delicacies for them to eat, for they would get so
hungry. At last they used to say, '"'" Our nurse car-
ries a cook and store in her pockets." My efforts
were nobly seconded by one of the cooks. He
seemed never to tire of doing little extras, —
baking potatoes, boiling eggs, making crackers, and
OUR ARMY NURSES. 297
many other things. And how anxious they were
for the " loaves and fishes." Ah, poor fellows, they
needed them badly enough!
Once when we were looking for Morgan and his
guerrillas, a poor man came to me and requested that
I go to my room at the first alarm, and said he would
stand by my door, and they would have to go over
his dead body to enter. But the pitiful part of it
was that he had no use of his legs, — had to shove his
feet along; one arm was disabled, and he had been
shot through the chest. It moved me to tears, and
he said, "Do not be afraid; I will die fighting."
Well T knew he would. N^o such patriots as ours
could be found.
Perhaps I should add that the reason I understood
minor surgery so well, was l)ecause I had a thorough
course of instruction imder Doctor Jameson, Avho
gained great experience in the Crimean War. I also
had a manual that treated of the surgery during that
war; so I could, and did assist in many amputations.
My name was then Lois Dennett; but at the close
of the war I was married to one of my first patients,
whom I saved after five doctors had given him up.
I left the hospital in September, 1864.
Lois II. Duistbar.
908 22a Stkkkt, Ogden, Utah.
298
OUR ARMY NURSES.
\
j^tsr^-^ if^l^
REBECCA WISWELL.
JE^^LISTED in Boston, the first week in March,
1862, and was in CTOvernment employ three
years and foni- months. Miss Dix sent for me.
I used to do np bandages, and carry them to
the State House every day. They said mine were
the best of any. One day they asked me if I had
ever nursed. I told them I had for twenty years in
Boston. They asked if I had any recommendations,
and I told them I had plenty at home. " Will you
please bring- them up here and let us see themV " they
said. Then after looking at them : " i^o one who has
gone from this part of the country has had such high
recommendations. You ought to be out at the front;
and with your consent we will telegraph." So they
immediately sent for me to go to Washington, and I
spent the first night with Miss Dix. ^ext day she
took me up to Seminary Hospital. I stayed there a
little over two years; then went up the Shenandoah
Valley, and was there over four months; then was
sent to Fortress Monroe, where I stayed four months
more. Was very sick the last fortnight. I had a
young man in my ward who would not tell where he
belonged until the afternoon before he died; then he
told me, and asked me to sing to him, and read a little
from the Bible. I asked him where I should read,
and he said, "Where ycm open; and sing, *"My
heavenly home is bright and fair.'" After I had
300 OUR ARMY NURSES.
done this he said, " ]^ow I want you to tell me just
how long it will take me to die.'' "My dear, I can't
tell you that," I said. " JS^one but God knows. Are
you in a hurry to go?" "Yes; I long to be gone."
He soon passed away, I trust to that bright world
above where there is " rest for the Aveary."
I had one man Avho had six little boys and a wife.
" Oh, how I long to see them! " he would say. But
that can't be; I must leave them to God's care."
There were men there who were shot through the
bowels. They were very hard to take care of. The
worst case no doctor ever dressed but three times;
then he was left in my care, and I did it five months.
God does many wonderful things. We have great
reason to bless and praise Him. I met one of those
men in Washington at the Grand Army, a dear gen-
eral, who said: "You saved my life. The doctor said
I would die ; but you said, ^ You will live.' " The
Lord does wonderful things that we poor creatures
can't do.
May 20th I went to Annapolis, to see my nephew.
There were about five thousand troops getting ready
to move on to Richmond. The next week they were
on the way.
In September we had left at our door a baby boy,
about three months old. I took him into my room
and kept him two days. I don't know what has
become of him; he was put into the i)()orhouse. I
saw him when he w^as two years old, and he was a
smart little fellow.
After we had been in the Shenandoah Valley about
OUR ARMY NURSES. 301
four months, we nurses were ordered farther South ;
but rested in Washington three Aveeks before going
into such hard service.
We had in the ward a young man who belonged in
]N^ew York. He was brought in about eight o'clock
one morning, and lived only until half past two p. m.
He was very happy. I sang to him al)out two hours
while he was dying. The officers would look at him
and say, -^ How that man suffers!" "]^o, I don't,"
was his reply. " Jesus suffered it all. I shall soon
be at home with him, and what a glorious meeting
that will be. Jesus can make djdng easy. There is
something in my haversack I should like to look at
once more." I opened it, and found photographs
of his mother, his sister, and the lady to whom he
was engaged. He kissed them, and said: ^""I hope
they will be prepared to meet me in heaven. I shall
soon be there." Oh what a glorious death-bed scene
to witness!
I often used to look at the troops, and the sight
reminded me of the Day of Judgment, so many on
the march.
We had some grand meetings during the war.
President Lincoln used to say : " We need less talk,
and more praying. God will hear and answer
prayer."
I often sang for my patients when requested to do
so, and I have stood by some of the most blessed
death-beds I can imagine. There were a great many
praying men in the army, — a great many I hope to
meet on the other shore.
302
OUR ARMY NURSES.
I can't write well, my hands tremble so very mnch,
I was 88 years old the 24th day of last Septemljer.
With love to all,
Kebecca Wiswell.
9 Spring Stkekt, Ti^ymouth, Mass.
40th New York Infantry.
National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn.
304
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. DANIEL SCHRAM.
J WAS only a young woman then, but it seems
bnt yesterday that the war broke out, and mv
husband was wounded, having responded to
the first call for volunteers. Oh what chansfes
there have been since! ]N^ow I have two grown
children; and other things remind me of the flight
of time. Disabilities have come upon me, too, and I
am no longer able to get around very well; still, I
must not mourn, but accept whatever the Lord sees
fit to send, as He knows best.
One of the surgeons under whom I served while in
the hospitals, was Dr. Charles F. Haynes, now of
Brighton, Mass. He was a noble man, kind to every
one under him, but especially thoughtful of the poor
wounded soldiers. May God bless him and his
family for his kindness during the cruel war.
I have never regretted that I went to nurse the
soldiers in those dark days. I have stood by the
]:)edsi(le of many a dying man, and those scenes are
fresh in my memory to-day.
The following sketch from a paper outlines my
work : —
" The case of Mrs. Sohram is familiar to many of the old resi-
dents of Amsterdam, as she resided here in 1H61, when certain
patriotic citizens assisted her to proceed to the front, and carry out
her noble purpose of renderinjr aid as a volunteer nurse in army hos-
pitals. She first went to Burkittsville, Md. ; but finding that the
hospital had been removed to F'rederick (Md.), reported for duty
306
OUR ARMY A^URSES.
there, and was assigned by the medical staft', as hospital nurse, to
duty in Camp B, outside of Frederick City, among wounded and sick
soldiers, removed thither from South Mountain and Antietam. The
service she rendered there is gratefully remembered by many a
veteran, and has probably been mentioned at many a 'camp fire'
since the close of the war. Notwithstanding that her service Avas
without pay, and her expenses, including her board outside of the
hospital, at her own cost, she frequently bought and furnished to
convalescent, and other sick and wounded soldiers, necessaries for
Avhich army regulations did not provide. The exposure incident to
camp life and her untiring work impaired her health, and necessi-
tated her return, after eight months of service."
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Mks. Daxiet. Schram.
Four Plain, N. Y.
National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn.
308
OUR ARMY NURSES.
m
NANCY M. GROSS.
J
]Sr February, 1890, Kepresentative Seth L. Millikin,
of Maine, introduced into Congress a bill grant-
ing a pension to Nancy M. Gross, of Bucksport,
a nurse in the Second and Sixth Regiments.
The bill was referred to the Committee on Invalids'
Pensions. The evidence submitted was such that a
most favorable report Avas given, and the bill passed
without opposition, giving to the deserving lady a
pension, — a help and comfort in her declining years.
Mrs. Gross filed a large number of letters gladly
written by the comrades who Avere familiar with her
brave career.
The following is one of many : —
"I would most respectfully call your attention to the fact that
Mrs. Nancy M. Atwood-Gross went out with the Sixth Maine
Regiment Volunteers as a nurse, and served in that capacity in the
field and hospital, caring for our sick and wounded with untiring
zeal, and participating in our long and weary marches by day and
niglit, through the dark days of the Rebellion ; often standing by the
side of some dying comrade who gave his life for the country we so
much love, blending her tears and prayers that those comrades be
enrolled in the great army of which God is the supreme commander.
Believing that this good woman's health was impaired by this
arduous duty, and untiring energy and zeal to render assistance to
her country in those days of bloodshed and hardship, we ask that
the Government, now in the zenith of its prosperity, render her a
compensation for her services from 1861 to 1863, believing her
most deserving. Respectfully,
Louis P. Abbott,
Late Go. L, 6th Ifaine Volunteers.
Now (1895) District Chief Engineer Boston Fire Department."
310 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Mrs. Gross writes : —
*"" I was born in Montville, Me., in 1834:, the dangh-
ter of John Yerplast, a farmer.
"When the war broke ont I was a widow with one
child, and living in Bangor, where I was earning my
living as a seamstress. I had had consideral^le experi-
ence in nursing, and, with good health and strength,
I felt it my duty to do what I could to help the
Union cause by ministering to the sick and wounded.
Accordingly I enlisted as a field nurse, under the
name ^Nancy Atwood, and left Bangor for the front,
under Colonel Knowles, in May, 1861. The only
other nurse in the regiment was a Mrs. McDonald,
from a neighboring town, — Corinth, I think.
"We were in Hancock's Corps, and went into camp
at Chain Bridge, Ya., v\^here I remained until after the
first battle of Bull Run. During this time we were
in close proximity to the rebels' line. Times without
number the camp was thrown into confusion by skir-
mishes, and we were driven into the swamps. The
weather was severe, and my tent was often flooded
or blown away. There was much sickness in the
regiment. The measles broke out, and I Avas con-
tinually employed among the afflicted.
"At the fii'st battle of Bull Run I had my first
experience with wounded men. My brother was
injured, and I was transferred to his regiment, the
2d Maine, and entered the field hospital at Fort
Cochrane, on Gen. Robert Lee's farm, on Arlington
Heights. Here great hardships were endured,
many of the wounded from the battle of Bull
OUR ARMY NURSES.
311
Klin having been broug-lit thei-e; and I worked
almost day and night to lessen their snfferings.
Mrs. Hartsnn Crowell, of Bangor, Me., was the only
nnrse besides myself in the hospital.
"^ We were in this camp abont five months, when the
regiment advanced to Hall's Hill, where the winter
was spent. Here, in addition to my duties as nurse,
my trade as a seamstress came into play, and I
repaired or made over hundreds of overcoats and
blankets for the men.
"On the 14:th of March, 1862, the regiment was
ordered to Alexandria, and I was transferred to the
Seminary Hospital, at Georgetown, D. C. Here I
remained nearly a year; then my health began to
fail, and I received an honorable discharge."
This is the story of the brave Maine woman,
briefly and modestly told; but the boys who wore the
blue can read volumes between the lines.
Her address is
^ANCY ]Vr. Gross.
BUCKSPORT, MaINK.
1st Maine Cavalry.
National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn.
312
OUR ARMY NURSES.
SUSAN COX.
JWEXT into the service from Knox Comity, 111.,
and served with the 8od Illinois Infantry, at
Fort Henry, Fort Donaldson and Clarksville,
from October, 1862, until June, 1864. This
regiment was garrisoned at Fort Donaldson the
greater part of the time I was with, them, so my
experience was less varied than that of many others.
Once when my husband had gone with most of the
company thirty-iive miles up the Cumberland River,
to guard a boat, we Avere surrounded, and a fight
occurred. The INJ^orthern women were ordered on
board a boat that was to drop down the river.
"While on the way to the landing the shot and
shell w^ere flying all around us, and I saw one of
our boys lying dead, having been fearfully mangled.
One of our soldiers w as condemned for desertion,
and I saw him shot in the presence of the whole com-
mand. The men were formed in a hollow square, so
that all could see very plainly. He stood in the
center with the nine men, Avho aimed their guns at
his breast, and eight bullets pierced his body within
a circle of six inches, ^ine more guns were in
reserve; bat ah! they Avere not needed.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Susan Cox.
Tecumseh, Nkb.
314
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MISS ELIZABETH WHEELER.
)FTER looking over some old army letters, I
find my memory so refreshed that I have con-
clnded to try to comply with yonr request
that I write a sketch of my experience as an
army nnrse.
When the first company enlisted from Worcester,
and my brother went with them, my whole soul was
aroused, and had I been a man I should have counted
one of the number. Soon word came that the 6th
had been attacked while going through Baltimore,
and that one of our men was killed. This caused
great excitement, for that was not supposed to be
rebel ground. I think all the women felt like learn-
ing to use firearms. I did, at least, but did the next
best thiug, which was to offer my services in case the
men should be sick or wounded. It was a three-
months' regiment, as that was supposed to be a long
enough time in which to end the war; and my
services wei'e not needed by them. But after the
battle of Gettysburg, when so many wounded were
sent to McDougal Hospital, Fort Schuyler, where
several ladies from Worcester had already repaired,
I received a summons and pass to go thither. It
admitted of no retreat on my part; if it had my
courage would have failed, so much did I shrink
from going amidst such suffering. However, there
was nothing for me to do but go forward; and I
315
316 OUR ARMY NURSES.
think it was July 5th, Avitli only one day's notice,
that I started, feeling very Aveak in myself, yet
'^ strong in the Lord,"
When we arrived at the fort it was a strange sight
to see so many scores of men in white garments
lolling on the ground and fences. They had been
ordered to exchange their woolen clothing for cotton,
which seemed almost murdei-ous, as they had worn
nothing: but Avoolen all throuo'h their term of service.
This resulted in colds, coughs, and inflammation of
wounds.
Each nurse had a ward of about fifty men. I tried
to put on a brave front and imagine all as bi'others,
and in that spirit commenced my duties. That night
I heard sounds that told of ague chills ; and the next
morning went to inquire who it was, and found it to
be a young man who had lost his right arm in battle.
He asked me for a woolen shirt, and I succeeded in
getting one, although they were very scarce. But it
was too late ; the chill had done its work. As I went
around with the doctor to see the patients, I noticed
his arm, which was unbound. The loosely hanging
flesh looked very dark, and the bone could be seen.
I thought it was gangrene, and asked the doctor if
they would not have to amputate again in order to
save his life; but received no answer. I showed that
I was green by speaking to a doctor in that manner.
He was a young cadet, put there for practice, the
men said ; and it was very hard for them to submit
to being treated by one who did not know his busi-
ness. The same wash-basin and sponges were used
0('R ARMV NUJ^SES. 317
for all, and as a result gangrene got into the wounds,
and that with the colds made quick work with the
most of them. When I next went to the young man
who had lost his arm, he was restless and in a high
fever. He told me how his twin brother had been
killed in battle two Aveeks before, and that his father
was dead, and he was all there was left to his mother.
He was only twenty -four years old, but said, " I have
been a very wicked young man." Then I spoke of
our Heavenly Father's love, and asked him if I might
read him the story of the Prodigal Son, telling him
that God comes to meet us as soon as we have a
desire to retnrn from our wanderings, and that he
was just the one Jesus died to save. I saw that in a
few hours the end would come, so I repeated some
of the precious promises, and asked him if he could
not trust in Jesus. " Yes, I do ; I Avill," he replied.
I tried to comfort him with the assurance that the
Lord will forgive all who repent, and he seemed
satisfied. Later in the day he became delirious.
The night watch came. In the morning I found
that he had hngered through the night, but at 10
A. M. he died, and was buried with four others that
afternoon. Oh, it seemed so sad when I thought of
the friends at home ! The men said he was a brave
soldier, and that he would have li\ ed if he could
have been sent home, which would have cost the
Government no more than to keep him there. It
was dreadful to see so many die, and be buried in a
few hoiu's, and know that somewhere there were
friends who loved them. And it was truly surpris-
318 OCR AR3iy NURSES.
ing how the men could be yo cheerful, joking- and
throwing their crutches at each other, while they
longed to be at home or back on duty. Those who
coukl read spent much time in that way; others
played games. Some had a habit of sitting at the
head of the ward and playing cards. It a\ as near my
room, and as I went in and out I would often hear
an oath. One day I said, "Boys, I never knew
people to pray so much over their cards as you
do." They looked up in astonishment, and said they
did not know they prayed. " Well," I replied, "if I
should ask God to Ness as much as you do to curse,
I should call it praying." I think I never heard
swearing there again, except from visitors from other
wards.
I had a rich experience one Inspection Da}. It
always came Sundays, — I suppose, to give the men
more to do. There was a new order for " no boxes
or books on the tables," so all such things were put
in my i-oom, as there was no other place. I had long
wanted to get hold of those boxes, and now was my
time. The reason was this: the boxes were often
open when I went to dust, and on the lids were cheap
pictures. I had ready many pictures of battles and
generals, which I pasted over the ones on the lids,
and they were all dry by the time they Avere carried
out. When I went around the next morning it did
me good to see the queer looks, though nothing was
ever said.
I will close with two letters written while in the
hospital : —
OUR ARMY NURSES. 319
Fort Schuyler, September 27.
Dear Mother : —
I have received tlie boxes. That drum of figs from Mrs. Eldred
it did not take me long to dispose of. I so much enjoy having a
luxury to give the men. Please to tell the lady how much it was
appreciated. I received a letter from Mrs. G. in behalf of the
Sanitary Commission, saying she had that day forwarded two boxes
of jelly. It is so good of them ! I like to be the almoner of their
bounties, and show the soldiers how Massachusetts gives. I hope the
next will be a box of woolen shirts.
The men in my ward are all getting along nicely, and until to-day
I have had no very bad cases for a long time. One poor boy had
his leg amputated. He is from Pennsylvania. He was wounded at
Fort "Wagner, and taken prisoner by the rebels. His foot Avas taken
off by disjointing it at the heel. He had suftered terribly all the time,
and now has to go through it all again. His groans are dreadful to
hear ; he does not bear it like many, still, we know it must be hard.
I have spent the day in my ward instead of going to the chapel.
This man's name was John Conners. He was a little fellow,
under twenty years of age, and veiy active, but he can neither read
nor write. I have been trying to teach him both, but he will suffer
so much that there will probably be a pause in the reading. It would
have done you good to see the interest he manifested when I read to
him in the Testament. I read nine chapters right along. If I went
to stop he would say : "• But there is more yet ; keep on. It seems
like an interesting story." I presume he had never heard it read
before. I explained as I went along. To-day when he was in so
much pain he would become quite quiet as soon as I commenced
reading, and go to sleep. To-night I told him to think about Jesus
suffering for ns (I had read the crucifixion to him), and asked if he
would not try to bear it silently. He said he would, and now he is
sleeping quietly. I never had such satisfaction in speaking or read-
ing to any one. It all seems new. E.
Dear Friends at home : —
I have ventured to do another thing. There is a young man by
the name of K. I'm afraid he has been a bad young man. He
320 OUR ARM)' NURSES.
was sick awhile ago, — the result of having a ball cut out of the side
of his neck. I took care of him ; he had hardly got well, when I was
walking out, and saw him sitting on the ground with four others,
playing cards. I was satisfied they were gambling. While he was
sick I opened a letter for him from his mother, in which she sent him
five dollars, and one of the men said she sent him a letter that morn-
ing with ten dollars in it, telling him he should have the last cent
she had. I thought I would make an effort to save him. I invited
him to come into my room this Sunday morning, telling him I
wished to talk with him for liis good, and hoped he would take it
kindly. He promised, and when I asked about his home friends, he
told me he had a mother, one sister, and two little brothers. His
father was killed in battle, nearly six months before. I asked if he
did not feel that a great deal devolved upon him to help to be a
guide to those little brothers, and his mother's stay. After talking
seriously with him of the effect upon his life, I asked him to spend
the Sabbath in thinking what he would do. I told him I thought
there was no one thing that would so harden tlie heart toward all
one's friends as gambling ; that I thought it would lead one down
until he would take the last cent from a widowed motlier, or from a
hard-working sister ; that it made one break all of God's com-
mandments, and hate His laws. " Every word you say is true,"
he said. I gave him an interesting book to read, and asked him to
think it all over and tell me, wlien I came to the ward that night,
what he had decided, — whetlier to leave it off or keep on. When I
passed through the ward at noon he was busy reading, and I think
he was all day. As I went to my room at night, I said, " What is
your decision? " " I have decided to leave it off," he replied. " I
think it best for me." He remained two or three weeks, then was
sent to the front. God only knows whether he Avas able to keep his
promise.
Miss Elizabeth AYhp^eler.
43 Orchard Strkkt, Worcester, Mass.
322
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. MARY E. PERKINS.
J HAVE to inform you that Maiy E. Perkins is
now deceased; but, as her husband, I will
try to supply what you require regarding her
services in the hit6 war, having known her
from childhood.
I assure you I am in full sympathy with all move-
ments to perpetuate the history of whatever pertains
to that struggle, having been a participant therein;
but especially the memory of those noble, self-sacri-
ficing women who left friends, and home with all its
comforts, to endure the hardships of camp and hospi-
tal, and to minister to the wants of the sick, wounded
and dying. It was through their heoric efforts that
many are calling them blessed to-day.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
AxDKEW F. Pp:rkixs.
711 4th Street, South St. Cloud, Minx.
Mary E. Perkins (formerly Chamberlain) was born
May 5, 1839, at Brewer, Me., where she resided
until she was seven years old; then removed to
Enfield, Me., where she lived until the bi'eaking out
of the war in 18(31, when she volunteered her services
to the 11th Maine Yolunteer Infantry, as nurse. She
was accepted, and accompanied the regiment to Wash-
ington. Soon after arriving there she entered Camp
Stone Brigade Hospital, on Meridian Hill, where she
remained attending the sick until the regiment went
323
324 OUR ARMY NURSES.
to the Peninsula, in March, 1862. Following the
fortunes of the regiment, she embarked with them for
Fortress Monroe. On arriving there it was found that
orders had been issued that no nurse be allowed at
the front. She then sought and gained permission to
enter Hygeia Hospital, at Hampton, Va.
About two weeks after. Miss Dix arrived at the
hospital, and seemed very loth to accept her as a
nurse, on account of her age ; but upon the earnest
solicitation of the surgeons and nurses, telling of her
qualifications and zeal in the work, Miss Dix mus-
tered her into the service. Here she remained, at-
tending the sick and wounded of McClellan's army
during the Peninsula Campaign.
After the battles of Seven Pines and Fair Oaks,
she was detailed on the hospital boat that went to
White House Landing, to receive and care for the
sick and wounded. Twice after this she was detailed
on the same errand.
Sometime in September the Hygeia was broken up,
and she was transferred to the temporary hospital
near Fortress Monroe, where she remained until the
last of October, when she went to ]S^ew York, to nurse
an only brother who had been disabled in the service.
When he could travel, she procured her discharge
and went home.
Testimonials of her high character, her sympathy
for the patients, and the efficiency with which she
performed her duties while in the service, from all the
surgeons under whom she served, show how nuich
her efforts were appreciated. Hers was a nature
OUR ARMY NURSES. 325
that could see no suffering or distress without doing
the utmost to alleviate it.
In April, 1865, she was married to Andrew F.
Perkins, of St. Cloud, Minn. :N'ov. 18, 1893, she
died, beloved by all who knew her.
MEMORIAL DAY.
'Tis meet that loyal hearts unite
And homage pay the nation's brave.
Nature herself joins in the rite,
Not one neglected, lonely grave,
But all her choicest tributes share —
Memorial lays that song-birds sing,
The aromatic laden air —
Sweet resurrecting breath of spring.
What shall our fit memorial be?
What added lustre may we shed
Upon the sacred memory
Of our beloved and honored dead ?
Not martial strain nor fairest flower
Are worthiest tokens we may give.
They die as dies the passing hour,
Some tribute seek we that shall live.
Some heart made light by gift of love
In memory of a dear one's name —
May this not worthy tribute prove
E'en to a hero's cherished fame?
Then pause not long by flower-strewn grave.
On human shrines our emblems lay.
So shall we render to our brave
Fit tokens of " Memorial Day."
326
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARTHA F. JENNISON.
JF I should midertake to wi-ito all T knew about
war times and the boys hi blue it would require
a large volume to hold it; but I will tiy to give
you a few items.
I was born in Templeton, Mass., but we had gone
to the "West, and were in Fort Madison, Iowa, when
the war broke out.
My eldest son felt he must go into the army, and
at first it seemed to me that I could not spare him;
but he went, and was in many battles during the four
years he was in the service, and the Lord heard my
prayers and returned him to me to tell what he had
been through during the cruel war.
My other son was in school in Boston ; but as soon
as he was graduated he went into the navy on the
steamer ^' Lillian." He, too, was in many battles, and
sometimes sick, but God spared his life.
A mother can judge what were my feelings, with
my husband dead and my sons engaged in such a
perilous undertaking.
In 1862 I went to Keokuk to spend the winter
with Mr. and Mrs. Samuel F. Miller; and whether it
was in March or April I cannot tell, but the Govern-
ment took a large hotel for a hospital. Mrs. Miller
and I went in when the men first arrived; and oh,
such suffering! It was fearful to see!
The surgeon-general came to me with a roll of
bandages and a bundle of lint, and said, " Mrs. Jenni-
327
328 OUR ARMY NURSES.
son, will you go with me and help to dress the poor
boys' wounds?" I did not feel that I had the nerve
to go through it; but after I had helped with ten or
twelve brave fellows, and saw how much there was
to do, and so few to do it, I felt it my duty to stay
and help. I thought perhaps if I did what I could
for them, some one would care for my sons.
I boarded with Judge Miller, but used to go every
day to the hospital, and I found plenty to do there. I
carried my tablet, pen, and ink, and often wrote letters
for the boys who were too sick to do it for them-
selves, or had, perhaps, lost the right arm or hand.
I think there were a thousand men here. There
were fifty in one large hall with only a chair between
the cots. I have known fifteen to die in one day;
but oh, they were so brave to the end !
I used to read to them a great deal when they were
in such agony that nothing could do them any good,
and that seemed to quiet them moi-e than anything
else. Many a night I have sat by sick and. dying
soldiers.
I went into the hospitals to try to help, not for
pay; on the other hand, I spent time, money, and
health, working with my head as well as my hands.
In about six months I was taken with the typhoid
fever, and was carried to my home in Fort Madison,
where I was sick for a long time. I had a book in
which I kept the names of officers and many inter-
esting facts, but during my sickness it was lost.
Martha F. Jennison.
Weston, Mass.
330
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. M. J. BUNCHER.
'GREEABLE to your request, I will try to give
some account of the hospital to Avhich I was
called, and in which I served as a nurse
during the last year of the war; or, from
October, 1864, to September, 1865.
In the fall of 1864 the hospitals along the frontier
had become overcrowded, and a question arose in the
minds of the public-spirited men of our State in
regard to providing a hospital for the sick and
wounded of our own State. Yery little time was
lost before a well-equipped United States building
was established in Manchester, I^. H., receiving the
name, '' AYebster Hospital." It would accommodate
six hundred patients, and during the time of its
existence, sixteen hundred were admitted and cared
for; quite a number from Maine and Massachusetts,
as well as from ^ew Hampshire.
The working force consisted of Col. Alex. T.
Watson, surgeon in charge, and seven or eight
assistant surgeons, four medical cadets, and four
stcAvards, five nurses, and an extra woman of all
work. Four convalescent soldiers wei-e detailed to
render such assistance as we needed. Our assio-ned
work was in the Extra Diet Department, and we
were ajDpointed l)y Miss Dix. The nurses were
Mrs. Eliza P. Stone (deceased) and Mrs. Mary
J. Buncher, of Manchester (sistei-s) ; Miss Mary
332 OUR ARMY NURSES.
J. Knowles, Miss Elizabeth J. Dudley, and Mrs.
Moore (deceased).
The responsibility rested more especially upon my
sister and myself; the duties devolving upon us
included the supervision of preparing the diet and
stimulants for all the sick and wounded needing
special care, visiting them, and administering such
comfort and cheer as we could. The other nurses
had their full share of the labor of love in preparing
all the httle delicacies foi- the sufferers, from whom
we all received ample comj^ensation in their grateful
expressions of thankfulness. We saw much suffer-
ing bravely borne. Thirteen deaths occurred from
various causes, — the first five of as many different
nationalities. Those wei-e very solemn occasions.
Another sad scene came when the convalescents
were sufficiently strong to return to the front;
also, when more wounded ones were brought to us.
But there were many pleasant things connected
with our hos])ital life. The people of the city and
state were deeply interested in the work. The
pastors took turns in coming each Sabbath. The
large " mess hall " w as arranged for an audience
room, and we had excllent discourses delivered
there. The singing by the soldier boys was fine.
Colonel Watson permitted them to have many kinds of
amusement, in which all who were able participated.
They frequently gave concerts of no mean order, to
which many were invited from the city. The young
ladies also gave a fair, and the proceeds were devoted
to the purchase of a nice little library, which gave
OUR ARMY NURSES. 333
the men a good selection of books, and they were
greatly appreciated.
Colonel Watson always maintained the same strict
discipline as was observed at the front : only special
days were allowed for visiting ; no one could enter or
leave the grounds without a pass ; and after the even-
ing guard went on duty we could not go into any of
the wards without giving the countersign.
Gifts of all kinds sent to the sick ones were
delivered at our quarters, to be dispensed according
to the judgment of their physicians. Thanksgiving
Day, I remember, a bountiful provision was made for
all those who were able to partake.
That year at Webster Hospital will ever remain a
bright spot in memory, notwithstanding the many
painful scenes we were called upon to witness ; and I
rejoice that I was permitted to share in the services
rendered by so many noble-hearted women to the
brave and heroic sufferers, the defenders of our
beloved country. I possess many tokens of kind
rememberance from those who were under our
care, — letters, photographs, etc., — and as the years
go by, they seem more and more valuable. Quite
a number of those who were then young men, now
occupy very responsible positions.
I have an excellent photograph of the hospital
and grounds, taken before the buildings were
removed. It was presented to my sister and myself
by Colonel Watson, and I prize it very highly.
My dear sister, Mrs. Eliza P. Stone, died seven
years ago. Her experience at the hospital was
334 OUR ARMY NURSES.
identical with my own ; but her sweet Christian
character, and strong faith, impressed itself upon
the hearts of many suffering and dying ones, and
gave consolation to many in their hours of trial.
MkS. M. J. BUNCHEK.
182 Main Stueet, Nashua, N. H.
LIVE.
" Live for good that you may do —
For the errors you may fight,
For the aid that you can give,
For the needs you can relieve,
For the wrongs that you may right
" Live afflictions to console —
Giving strength unto the weak,
. Giving hope to dumb despair,
Like an answer to a prayei- ;
Be a help to tliose that need.
" Live to say, ' Thy will be done ! '
Even though it seem unjust
To your dim, imperfect sight ;
What He doeth must be right :
Keep a iirm, unwavering trust.
" Live the seed of good to sow ;
Live to sweeten sorrow's cup.
And to lift the fallen up ;
Live in fellowship and love.
And so live when called above."
336
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARGARET HAMILTON.
J WAS born in Rochester, :N'. Y., Oct. 19, 1840;
and being an only child I a\ as well cared for,
and knew very little of life's care until the
death of my dear mother, in 1857. After that
I became very restless and unhapj^y; and as I had
always been religiously inclined, I thought I should
like to become a Sister of Charity, as I had been
trained in their schools, and thought they did a great
deal of good among the sick, the poor, and the
orphans. I met with great opposition from my
father, who could not bear the thought of giving
me up to that life; but finally my pleadings won his
consent and in 1860 I entered the Orj^han Asylum,
an aspirant for the Order of Sisters. This was a
favor granted to my father, as a mark of respect, for
he had been a good friend to the church and the
asylum.
After three months' probation I was sent to the
Mother House in Emmitsburg, Md., where I remained
six months under their instruction, learning their
methods. Finding me qualified, they gave me the
habit of the Order, and sent me to the Orphan
Asylum in Albany, ]!Sr. Y., to teach a class.
Here I will state that one is not required to make
final vows until she has been in the Order five years.
This was the autumn of 1861, — a critical time in
the history of our country ; when peaceful homes had
337
338 OUR ARMY NURSES.
to part with loved ones who went forth to battle, that
the United States might live undivided, one great
and glorious nation. Almost every letter from home
brought news of this or that one of my relatives who
had enlisted, and I began to regret that I was unable
to do anything for the cause. But early in the spring
of 1862, an order came from the Mother House for
for three other Sisters and myself to go to the
Satterlee United States Military Hospital, in West
Philadelphia. I shall never forget the great feeling
of true haj^jDiness I experienced when the order was
made known to me ; but I dared not let any one know
how I felt, for fear they might not send me if I
seemed too anxious to go, as that is a part of the
discipline. However, I determined that if I was not
sent I should leave the Order, and offer \\\y services
in the great struggle.
A¥e went early in May, 1862, and found a few other
Sisters at the hospital; among them a niece of
General Beauregard, — a Miss Boulina from Louis-
iana. She was a student in the academy attached to
the Mother House, and became infatuated with the
Sisters; so she joined them, very much against the
Avishes of her ftimily, Avho were far from being recon-
ciled to her nursing Union soldiers. She herself
did not relish it, and after working about eight weeks
we suddenly missed her, and never learned what
became of her.
We were appointed by Secretar}^ Stanton. Dr. I.
I. Hayes, the Arctic explorer, was the surgeon in
charge, assisted by Dr. James Wihiams and many
OUR ARMY NURSES. 339
others; among them Dr. John S. Billings, of medical
fame, who at present resides in Georgetown, D. C.
This hospital was built to accommodate five thousand
patients, besides the corps of surgeons, nurses, etc.,
and was opened the 1st of May, 1862.
I remember that we fared poorly for some time, as
the commissary department had not been established;
neither had we conveniences to work with. Doctor
Hayes bought our first " rations," sending his regrets
that we should have been inconvenienced in that
respect.
A day or two later hundreds of our brave boys
arrived from the Chickahominy Swamps. Dozens of
them were already dead when taken from the ambu-
lances, and many others were just breathing out their
brave lives. The ward surgeons, medical cadets, and
the commissary department arrived with them. Now
began in earnest the work of real hospital life. The
first week after the arrival of these wounded and
fever- stricken boys, we had scarcely time to eat, rest,
or sleep. Our corps of nurses was insutficient for
the demand made upon their time by the terrible
sufferings of the sick and dying. Many of the
Sisters were unable to endure the hardships of such
a life, and were taken from us, so that oui' work was
greatly increased. From constant standing and
walking I soon was afflicted with bhstered feet,
from which I suffered greatly, but my services
were unremitting. I shall never forget one of my
next experiences. I had heard of the pi-overbial
"grayback," but my first intimation of his actual
340 OUR ARMY NURSES.
presence was an itching sensation. I looked to
discover the cause, and saw ever so many of them
preying upon my flesh. I was " all of a shiver/' and
so disgusted that I thought I would leave. But my
better nature and common sense came to my rescue,
and consideration for my personal comforts was put
aside as I thought what the soldiers were suffering
so bravely and patiently for the dear country we all
loved so well. After this, be the duty ever so hard
or unpleasant, I did it cheerfully.
During the battles that followed in 1862, 1863, and
1861, our hospital was constantly filled.
At the battle of Gettysburg more soldiers were
received from the field than ever before; the wards
were overcrowded, and tents were erected on the
grounds to accommodate two thousand, the most of
these being colored troops, who, when convalescent,
made it lively with camp-meeting hymns and prayers,
which greatly amused some of the boys, but caused
others to use unmentionable words.
The weather was extremely warm, and the vast
number of the wounded made careful attention to
their wounds impossible; and upon their arrival at
the hospital many wounds were full of vermin, and
in many cases gangrene had set in, and the odor was
almost unbearable. The demand on our time and
labor was so increased that the number of nurses
seemed utterly inadequate, and the hospital presented
a true picture of the horrors of war. The poor boys
were maimed and mangled in a terrible manner.
Readers, try to impress these truths on your memo-
OUR ARMY NURSES. 341
ries, and never forget what the soldiers of the
RebelHon sacrificed and suffered that this nation,
born of God, miglit live, and that her glorious flag
should be respected by all the nations of the earth,
both on land and on sea, and that the terrible curse
of slavery should be abolished.
I remember one poor felloAv who had been struck
by a bullet in such a way as to take out both eyes,
without touching the brain. He recovered, but only
to live out his days in a realm of darkness.
Amid such scenes of dreadful suftering, borne so
uncomplainingly, my life as an army nurse was
passed. Yet it is with feelings of thankfulness to
God that I recall those times, and know that I was
permitted to give almost three years of the best of
my life to the country I love, and to her brave
defenders.
We received a large number of wounded after the
battle of the Wilderness, and among them was a
young woman not more than twenty years of age.
She ranked as lieutenant. She was wounded in the
shoulder, and her sex was not discovered until she
came to our hospital. It appeared that she had fol-
lowed her lover to the battle; and the boys who were
brought in with her said that no one in the company
showed more bravery than she. She was discharged
very soon after entering the ward.
On my return from the N^ational Encampment in
Washington, September, 1892, I had the great
pleasure of visiting Doctor Baldwin, who served in
the Satterlee Hospital from June, 1862, until the w ar
342 OUR ARMY NURSES.
ended. He was a man of sterling woi'th, and a
warm friend of the soldiers. It is needless to say
that we had a most enjoyahle time talking over the
days of the war. We spoke of the great fright we
had when General Early made his raid on Chambers-
bnrg, and fired it; and how the brave boj^s who were
just getting about, forgot their weakness and were
ready to take up arms; how the places of business
were all closed in Philadelphia, as the owners were
off to defend the city.
After leaving the service, on account of poor
health, I was married to a soldier of the 19th
Maine Volunteers, and of this marriage eight
children were born, seven of whom are now living,
and they are a great blessing and comfort to me. I
have taken pleasure in instructing them in the great
principles of patriotism, and it is a standing joke
among them that they have '"'Civil War for break-
fast, dinner, and supper.""
I left the Catholic Church, and have been a
Baptist for fifteen years. I am trusting only in
Christ. And I now send u]) a prayer to our
Heavenly Father to preserve in my children true
loyalty to our country, — the dearest and best in the
the world.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Margaret HAMLLTOisr.
70 Elm Strekt, Wakkfikld, Mass.
344
OUR ARMY hWRSES.
MARGARET A. WEED.
MARGARET A. EDGAE was born in 1838,
and reared and edncated at Lockport, 111.
When the Rebellion broke out she felt it
her duty to do all she could for her country;
so when the call came for nurses she immediately
offered her services, and, with her sister Ellen,
started for her first field of labor, Oct. 9, 1861,
and soon arrived at Jefferson City. Mrs. Liver-
more and Mrs. Hoag gave these two girls com-
missions, and Doctor Beck assigned them work in
different wards, under an older lady as matron.
The hospital was a large, four-story building, which
had formerly been used as a ladies' academy. Here
were wounded men, cases of measles, typhoid fever,
scarlet fever, and indeed all the diseases that followed
the army. There were from thirty to forty men in
each ward, and the work was not as systematic as it
was later in the war. Surgeons, nurses, and soldiers
were alike ignorant of hospital service, and it is a
wonder that so much was accomplished when we
think that they did the cooking, kept the wards and
patients clean, superintended the entire housekeep-
ing arrangements, beside having the responsibility of
preparing the diet.
The hospital was always full, and in spite of all
that could be done, many died. The summer was
hot, the autumn pleasant, and the winter severe, — the
changes greatly affecting the patients.
346 OUR ARAfV NURSES.
Occasionally an incident would occur that greatly
amused the boys. One day a soldier from Missouri
came in from camp very sick, and as he grew worse
and worse, we sent for his wife. She was dressed in
a linsey-woolsey suit, and rode an old white horse.
She had lived in the backwoods all her life, and of
course saw many strange things at the hospital.
Soon after she arrived an engine came puffing up
the track, hauling a train. " Oh my! What is that?"
she cried. On being told she replied, " My ! I never
seed a car in my life before ! " This amused the
sick men, and did them as much good as a dose of
medicine. She would sit by her husband's cot and
smoke hour after hour. Finally he died, and she
went home. It would take a volume to record the
suffering and death, the joys and sorrows, and the
many interesting incidents which occurred at this one
hospital, where Miss Edgar remained until it was
closed, in 1862, and the nurses ordered to other
places, wherever they were most needed.
After the battle of Fort Donaldson there was a
great demand for help, and the medical director
ordered her to report at Paducah, Ivy., where she
was detailed to service Jan. 23, 1863, and assigned
to Hospital No. 1, under Major II. P. Stearnes.
This hospital was a large, four-story structure, that
had previously been used as a warehouse. She was
placed in a surgical ward, where she had men from
Corinth, Vicksburg, and second Donaldson; and here
she found all she could possibly do, day and night.
It would be impossible for her to say how many
OUR ARMY NURSES. 347
passed through her ward during the two and a half
years she was there, as she kept no record.
The hospital had been conveniently fitted up at
great expense to the Government, but it came to
sudden destruction. On the 25th of March, 1864,
the enemy under Generals Forrest, Harris, Buford,
and Thompson, made an attack on Paducah. The
rebels tore down the fence around the hospital, took
possession, and filled the building with sharpshooters.
As the hospital stood on higher ground, this gave
them a chance to shoot our men in the fort. Miss
Edgar relates her experience there in the following
words: "As I was leaving the hospital I met a
rebel soldier, who brought his gun down with
authority, saying, ^Halt,' and then ordered me to
fall into line. On going a little farther. Miss
McLeary was ordered to fall in, and he marched us
into the open field between the rebels and our fort;
but the balls flew harmlessly above our heads. Mean-
time our guns were under the necessity of shelling the
hospital, in order to rout the rebels, who were killing
the men in the fort.
" While we were in the field a rebel officer rode up
and asked, ^Ladies, how came you here?' "We told
him it was the order of one of his men ; whereupon
he told us to get down on the ground, or we would
be killed. We met a rebel soldier, and Miss McLeary
said, 'I thought my time had come.' He repHed,
* You should always be ready to die.' We were so
frightened that we could tell nothing about time.
Near by us a cow was grazing. A ball struck her;
348 OUR ARMY NURSES.
she jumped high in the air, and with a loud bellow
retreated in good ordei'. We momently expected
the same fate, but in spite of our fears we laughed
at our strange condition. This was my first experi-
ence in raid or battle. Soon we saw the rebels
retreating, loaded with plunder; but they also
carried many dead and dying men, among them
the lifeless body of General ThomjDSon, covered
with blood.
" As we were moving off the field a rebel, carrying
a flag, said, ^Have you many Yanks?' ^Yes, sir!'
I replied. ^ Reinforcements are coming down the
river.' This was repeated, and passed along the
line, ^Reinforcements are coming!'
" Forrest sent in a flag of truce for a surrender of
the fort; meanwhile we escaped as best we could, and
made our way to the Ohio River, and crossed into
Illinois. We were not allowed to return until the
next day; then it was to learn that the hospital, with
all its contents, had been burned."
Miss Edgar was next assigned to Hospital JN"©. 4,
and found all she could do there, as there were moi'e
victims from the attack on Paducah. Forty-six
Union men and a thousand rebels had been wounded.
The work continued until late in August, 18G4.
Then she returned to her home for a short time, to
rest; but was soon requested to report to H. P.
Stearnes, surgeon in charge of the Joe Holt, United
States General Hospital at Jefl'ersonville, Ind., where
she was detailed to service Oct. 3, 1864, in the hnen
department. This hospital was a little city in itself.
OUR ARMY NURSES.
3^19
It Avas iitsually crowded, and fii'teen hundred men
were in it now. There was a diet kitchen, con-
valescent dining room and kitchen, commissary,
bakery, and a hirge, elegant drug store. The laun-
dry was run by machinery, and a Mr. Hamilton did
the heavy lifting and kept the books. The linen
room was on the plan of a large dry-goods store.
While in this hospital Miss Edgar was married to
Alexander G. Weed, who was hospital steward of
the 24th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantiy. She was
honorably discharged in the fall of 1865, and returned
to private life.
She has many letters dating from 1862 to 1892,
which express gratefulness and appreciation for her
services.
Thirty years have flown since those days; she is
now "gray," and inclined to live in the past, and
think over the scenes of war-times. She has been a
widow since 1891. Her address is
Margaret A. Weed.
Russell, Kan.
350
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ELIZABETH LUCAS.
J WAS born in Darlington, Ont., in May, 1835.
My father was a firm friend of Wm. Lyon
McKenzie, and both grandfathers were among
the early settlers of Connecticut, and served
with General Washington. Both were with him the
night he crossed the Delaware. I was married to
William Lucas, Sept. 28, 1852, and we moved to
Michigan.
He enlisted in the 4th Michigan Cavalry, Jan.
5, 1861, and was sent to Atlanta. Late in the fall
his regiment returned to Louisville, to recruit. My
husband was sick, and I went to him there ; and when
the regiment went to the front I accompanied it, for
I thought he would soon have to go into a hospi-
tal. About the 1st of January, 18G5, I went into
Brown Hospital, where I served in the linen room.
Then my husband had his leg broken, and w^as sent
to Tennessee; but I had him transferred to Brown
Hospital, where I could care for him. He had a long
run of typhoid fever, so he was under my care some
time. My daughter was with me, but was too young
to be allowed to nurse, so she served in the linen
room.
When the hospital broke up I was discharged, in
August, 1865, and came to the little farm where I
still live. I recall an incident that occurred when I
was on a United States steamer going from Cincin-
352 OUR ARMY NURSES.
nati to Louisville. Just at evening the guerrillas
lired upon the boat, breaking windows and frighten-
ing every one generally. The soldiers on board
returned the fire, but it was so dark that they could
not see even the banks Avhere the guei'rillas were
hidden. Then the captain ran the boat so fast that
we were more afraid the boiler would burst or the
boat run aground, than we had been of the enemy.
We reached Louisville in safety, however, and
remained on board until the next morning.
Elizabeth Lucas.
Swan Creek, Mich.
" Waiting through days of fever,
Waiting through nights of pain,
For the waft of wings at the portal,
For the sound of songs immortal.
And the breaking of life's chain.
" There is little to do for the soldiers.
Only to watch and pray
As the tide is outward drifting.
As the gates of heaven are lifting,
And its gleam is on the way."
854
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY F. KNOWLES.
\ I /^-^^-'^-^^ ^^^''^' fi^'^ women in the AVebstei- United
4\(s States Hospital, where I served, in Manchester
N". H., bnt only three of us are noAv living-,
Mrs. Buneher, Miss Dudley, and myself; I do
not know where Miss Dudley is at present. Mrs.
Buneher had charge of the Diet Department, and my
work was to prepare food for the sick and wonnded
who were not able to go into the general ''mess
hall."
I went from Nashua, :N'. H., to the hospital in 1864,
and came out in I860; was there just abont a year.
We nnrses did what we conld for the ''boys in blue"
who were under our charge; but I have always been
sorry that I did not follow a regiment, as I think that
perhaps, in that way, I could have made myself more
useful.
Maky F. Kxowles,
Derry, N. H.
356
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ti**
-fis^
BETSEY A. COOK.
#
i
J^ 1861, .^iien every heart that beat in unison for
the proteetion of our country and the dear old
flag- was filled with patriotism, we were living
in Augusta, 111. My husband enlisted in July,
in the 2d Illinois Cavalry, and went to the army,
while I"*tetin'ned to my father's, in Jackson. In
September my husband wrote, asking me if I would
go there as nurse in Delanoe's Dragoons. I replied
that I would, and soon received an appointment
and transportation. I went from Grass Lake to
Fort Halt, Kentucky, across the river from Cairo,
arriving there about the middle of October. Doctor
Kendall was in charge of the hospital, and I served
under him all the time I was with the army.
We all lived in tents, and used one for a hospital,
imtil !N^ovember, when they built cabins for winter
quarters. A room was prepared for the sick, and we
got along very well till some time in January, when
the water rose and covered the ground so that no one
could get out at all who did not wear cavalry boots.
So we were obliged to leave our comfortable quarters,
and move to higher ground. AVe went up the Ohio
River three or four miles, to a place called Camp
Pain. I stayed there until the last of February, and
then went home to Michigan, where I remained until
November of 1862, when I resumed my duties as
nurse at Island No. 10. Doctor Kendall was in
357
'358 OUR ARMY NURSES.
charge, and glad to have iiiv help, as" there was
not another white woman on the island nntil I had
been there some time. I took charge of all the
clothing and hospital supplies, and prepared the
food that was carried to the sick. My husband
was detailed there as hospital cook, and they were
using baker's bread, which I must say was not very
good. Soon after I arrived I asked him if that was
the best bread they could get; and when told that it
was, I said if I. could get some flour I would make
some bread that I thought would be better. As
there was no j^east I tried the old Yankee way of
" salt raising." The bread was good, and I made
from it some toast to send to the sick boys. The
man Avho carried it to them soon returned, and said
they wanted to know if I lirought that all the way
from Michigan, and if they could have a little more,
for it was the best they had tasted since the}^ had
been in the army. I told him they could have all
they wanted, and from that time I made all we used.
About the last of Aj^ril, Doctor Kendall was
relieved, and sent to Columbus, Ky., and Doctor
Kelson took his place. Soon a large number of
contrabands were brought in, and the ablebodied
men were drilled there in camp for awhile, then taken
to Columbus, and formed in a company. Soon the
necessity of forming a colored military hospital was
felt, and my husband was relieved from duty at
Island Ko. 10, and ordei-ed to Columbus. I went
there in June, 1863, and stayed until the last of
August. My duties were to oversee the cooking
OUR ARMY NURSES.
351)
and hospital supplies. After a time Doctor Iven-
dall was taken sick, and went home; then all the
officers were changed, — my husband ordered to his
company, and I returned to my home in Augusta,
where I kept house until Mr. Cook was discharged
and came home.
While I was an army nurse I had many pleasant
and many sad experiences, which I should be glad to
tell you, but I am old, and it is hard for me to write.
A year ago I made application for a pension, but it
was rejected, on the ground that Mrs. Yates was not
legally authorized to appoint me. But if I never
receive any pay, I have the satisfaction of knowing
that I did what I could to help in the great struggle
for Union and the flae:.
Lamar, Mo.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Betsey A. Cook.
360
OUR ARMY NURSES.
EUNICE M. BROWN.
JAM glad that I belong- to a band of army nurses,
and proud that I sprang fi'oni a patroitic race.
AYhen the Civil War broke out I was anxious
to start, but impossibilities hedged the Avay
until June, 1864. I then went from Windham,
Portage County, Ohio, to Camp Chase, near Colum-
bus, and at once began yisiting the General Hospital,
and doing for our sick soldiers such things as read-
ing, writing, etc., in company with Major Albert
Longwell's wife. "We continued this delightful work
nntil Augnst, when Sui-geon Longwell had orders to
open a temporary Post Hospital, till the completion
of one in the course of construction. Owing to " I'ed
tape " we could not draw any delicacies from the
Government for our sick ; only soldiers' rations were
available while we occupied this temporary building
nor could nurses draw pay or rations. I Avas informed
of these regulations, and asked if I would take the
position of nnrse under such conditions. I cheerfully
replied that I would.
A three-months' regiment came in at this time,
bringing their sick and wounded. There was not a
pillow, blanket, or coat for the poor fellows; nor a
delicacy, with the exception of a few that we ladies
furnished from our quarters. We just had to put
the brave men on the bare floor, and when our store
was exhausted, feed the sickest from our tables.
361
362 OUR ARMY NURSES.
They were patient and thankful, and this paid ns
well, — better than money. They said, "We thought
when we got to God's country, we should have
something to eat." We applied to the Soldiers' Aid
Society, and received word: " Ohio must take care of
her soldiers. Our supplies must go to the front."
We went with our ambulance among the farmers,
soliciting food, only to be told at nearly every house,
"If you wish provisions for the iwisoners you can
have all you want; but not one thing for the "blue
coats." With heavy hearts we would i-eturn to our
boys with only a few supplies, wishing we were not
subject to the " powers that be." I struggled along
this way until Dec. 24, 1864:, when we moved; after
which we had full supplies for our sick. I was
then mustered into the 88th Ohio Yolunteer Infantry,
by Surgeon Longwell, under whom I had served all
this time, and continued until his death, in April,
1865. After this I served under Dr. II. E. Warner,
successor to Dr. Longwell, till at the close of the
war I was mustered out, in July, 1865. I remained
on duty until August, when new hands were capable
of caring for those who were unable to leave camp.
I served as nurse the entire time.
My experiences are varied. My husband. Surgeon
James F. Brown, was assigned to duty among the
prisoners, numbering live thousand. This gave me a
chance to see the care that was bestowed upon the
Confederates. Many of the same farmers we had
called on brought from their storehouses an abund-
ance which was not needed; for "Uncle Sam" took
OUR ARMY NURSES. 363
good care of the rebels, putting them in condition to
fight ns again. As I visited their commissary, and
saw the supphes in nntold quantities, — dried fruits by
the barrel, sugar by the hogshead, canned and fresh
fruits, butter, eggs, meats, etc., in proportion,—
I thought of our empty commissary, and my
indignation was great. I wished for an equal
division.
One day, at my husband's request, I cooked a
delicacy for five little sick boys, not over four-
teen years old. As I fed them I asked each, " How
came you here, so far away from home and mother?"
The answer was in a whisper, " We were pressed
into the service." They did not dare say this aloud,
havino: been commanded not to tell. Dear little
fellows! Ere nightfall three had gone beyond the
roar of battle. The others died the next day.
We had men among those prisoners who were
loyal to the flag of our Union. This was proved
at an exchange of prisoners. Eighteen hundred
at one time refused to go on the exchange, saying:
"We were pressed into service at first, and if
we leave here we shall have to take up arms against
the N^orth again. Our prison life is preferable to
that; our fare is better than your men get, we are
sorry to say."
I witnessed a regiment of prisoners as they left
our camp. IS'ot all looked happy, but most looked
healthy. The feeble ones were taken in ambulances,
all had well-filled haversacks, and were clothed well.
Each had a double blanket rolled over his shoulder.
364 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Now I will tell you how our men looked when they
came hito camp. All were ragged, some hatless,
many shoeless, more stockingless; not one blanket,
not even so mnch as a ragged one, no haversacks, all
walking skeletons. Those unable to walk were borne
on the shoulders of some a little sti'onger. Most all
prostrated themselves on the ground ; some going to
the garbage barrels for food before lying down to
wait to be assigned to their quarters. I said all were
ragged; I mistake there. One, by the name of
Bradley, was well clothed, had a good single
blanket, and was a picture of health. I asked:
" How is this, Bradley, that you have come back in
so much better condition than your comrades? Did
you have your money concealed? " He replied: "I
was stripped like the rest, but after being put in
prison, when hungry all I had to do was to step on a
stump and make a speech for the South. This always
gave me a good square meal, and anything else I
wanted. Mrs. Brown, you ai-e told the reason our
men fare so hard in the South is a lack of j^rovisions.
It's not true, and don't you believe it. There is
no scarcity if you have money, or cater to the
South."
I can give you no idea of the condition our poor
men were in when released from their prisons. One
of the worst cases was that of Mr. , who was
of fine physical build and of superior talents, but had
scurvy when he returned to us, and his sores were
full of vermin. All we could do did not save him,
and we were thankful when he was at rest.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 365
THE HUCKSTER.
I referred to being unable to get supplies for our
camp of the farmers in a "Secesh" county. There
was a certain huckster, a woman, who called daily at
the prison with a load of pies. We appealed to her
for her fruit and eggs, offering to pay cash. Her
reply was, " ]!^o ' blue coat ' gets anything from me."
About this time a regiment returned to Camp Chase
for muster out. The officers went to Columbus for
money to pay their men, forgetting to return for
three days. The men, famishing on the third day,
asked the huckster to sell out to them, saying,
"We have no money to-day, but will pay you
to-morrow." She said : " You old ^ blue coats ' ! If
you had been fighting for the South you might have
had my whole wagon-load of pies. N^ow you shall
not have one." At this the soldiers said, " We'll
see ! " and gathered round the wagon, some holding
the horse. She raised her whip, saying, "Ge up, Jim!
Ge up, Jim!" One soldier caught the lash while she
still cried, " Ge up, Jim." The dear, hungry boys
devoured every pie with a relish, saying: "Mother,
how good your pies are ! The best we have had for
a long time. Call around to-morrow and get your
money." Then releasing the horse they said, "Ge
up, Jim! " I could not help shouting, " Glory! " and
did not feel conscience smitten eithei-. The old lady
looked daggers at me, and I was glad I was not in
range of that whip; but felt sorry for "Jim," on
whom she vented her spite.
366 OUR ARMY NURSES.
MY TWO BOY PATIENTS.
I want to tell of my two boy patients, named
Henry, because I found such remarkable faith in
Christ's promises in one, and in the other such
patriotism. One morning, in the rounds of my
wards, as I opened the door of Ward 2, a pair of
beautiful brown eyes met mine. The face wreathed
with smiles, and the lovely brown ringlets covering
his pillow , made a pictm*e wondrously fair to behold.
On my going directly to him he extended a thin,
trembling hanrl, saying, ''Good morning, mother!"
I said, "I have a little boy patient." "Yes'm."
"How came you to call me mother?" " O, the
boys told me you would care for me." " Have you
a sick father here you came to see?" "Xo'm; I
have no father." " Have you a soldier brother here,
then?" "I have no brother, or sister, or mother;
she died when I was eight years old. I have no
home, either." "You are a little boy now,"" I said.
"Ho w^ came you here?" "After mannna died, jiapa
was drafted; he was too poor to hire a substitute,
and I had no one else to stay with me, so I asked
the officei's to take me as their drummer boy. I
have been in the service three years and three
months." "Pray tell me how old you are." "Eleven
years and nine months. Three months ago my father
was killed in battle at Antietam, and the same ball
that killed him, wounded me in the hip. The surgeon
says there is so much scrofula in my system that I
am a cripple for life." I said: "My little Henry looks
OUR ARMY NURSES. 367
.very hapjDj for one with no home or relatives that he
knows of. How is this?" For reply he ran his
emaciated fingers beneath his pillow, drawing there-
from a small copy of a well-thumbed Bible, and
holding it up with trembling hand, sparkling eyes,
and glowing countenance, he said: "Mrs. Brown, this
book tells me, ^ When thy father and mother forsake
thee, the Lord will take thee up.' If I get well, and
try to be good, I shall have a home somewhere here;
if I don't get well, I know I have one ^ over tliere^ "
As we had eager listeners, I questioned him more
closely, saying: "Dear child, the war will soon break
up. Where will you go?" "I don't know, mother.
I am trying to be good; God will not leave me with-
out a home." In my astonishment, knowing his
mother had been dead over three years, I said, " My
boy, who taught you such faith in God? " "My dear
mamma, until she died; then my paj3a."
In the course of time the child limped around the
ward, saying one Sabbath moi-ning, " I wish I could
go to Sunday school." Two of our ward attendants
said, " Get the child read}^, and Ave will take him."
These men formed a seat with crossed hands, and I
placed him thereon; Heniy putting an arm around
the neck of each, and they bore the happy child
away, while he cried, " Good-bye every one." He
was carried this way during his stay in camp, thus
getting different ones to church and Sunday school
who were not in the habit of going to either. All
loved the child, and he led some to Christ: thus ful-
iilling the scripture, "A little child shall lead them."
368 OUR ARMY NURSES.
At the close of the war, word came from head-
quarters to put all of our patients not able to leave
camp into Ward 1. In going to do this I found the
attendants l)usy obeying the oi'der, some patients
packing their haversacks, preparatory to going
home. Judge of my surprise when I found our
Henry one of them. I said, " Where are you go-
ing, child? " I supposed one of the boys was to take
him, knowing all wanted to do so. The little one
answered, " I don't know, mother, but God will send
some one for me; I will go into Ward 1, and wait
till he comes." Sequel: The next day our hospital
steward, Dr. George Austin, came to me with a
gentleman, saying: " This man is seeking for a
soldier orphan boy to adopt. He had no son to give
foi" his country's cause, and he wishes to do some-
thing in this way. Tell him all you know of
Henry." I told him the above, adding: "The child
is a great reader, but despises story newspapers, and
all trashy works. He thirsts for an education, but
Avill never be able to do much physical labor. He is
a remarkable boy in every respect." His eyes filled
with tears as he said : " Thank God, T have found the
boy I was seeking ! Wife and I are childless, but
have enough of this world's goods and to spare.
Camp Dennison being nearer, we had planned to
go there for our boy; but we both dreamed, on the
same night, that we should go to Camp Chase
instead. I can see God has led us. I am glad the
child wants an education; he shall have it. I don't
care for his physical labor, only so far as necessary to
OUR ARMY NURSES. 369
his health. If the boy is wilhng- to go, with your
consent (referring to Surgeon Warner and steward)
I'll take him now."
He left with the steward, and after a little I went
to the ward and found the child on the lap of the
man, Avith his arms twined lovingly around his neck.
On seeing me he came, and with tears trickling over
his happy face, he said: ^'Didn't I tell you, Mrs.
Bi'own, that God had a home for me? I am so
glad, so happy!"
As soon as he was prepared for travel, that wealthy
gentleman lifted him tenderly and bore our lovely
child to a cab; his laughing eyes tm^ned kindly on
us as he said, ""^ Good-bye all; I love you." That was
the last we heard of him, only that he was happy in
his new home. The gentleman and his wife had
legal adoption papers made out for him. Owing to
sickness I lost their address, but hope this may fall
under the eye of Henry, or some one else there, and
trust I may hear from him again. I should be very
glad to hear from any one of the joatients or attend-
ants. I had a noble corps of helpers; all were very
good and helpful; not one unkind word did I hear
during my stay. Better cooks or housekeepers I
could not have had than I found in those men.
Too much credit cannot be given our surgeons
and wives; many sacrificed their lives for om' sick.
Those who did survive have broken constitutions.
My other Henry was from Kentucky, and was
sixteen years old. He had a widowed mother and
one sister, and both were loyal to our flag. Hemy
370 OUR ARMY NURSES.
obtained his mother's consent to vohmteer in his
country's service, promising never to desert, and
that he would prove true to the hist. He was in
one battle and was wounded in the lung and brought
to our camp with consumption; was sick a long time.
I had a quilt sent to me made of a flag, with the
request that it be given to the sickest loyal soldier.
Henry was that one. I spread it on his cot when he
was asleep. On awakening he was so delighted! He
could not express his joy in the thought of dying
under the stars and stripes, saying: '"'"Pain will l)e less
now, and, Mrs. Brown, when I am placed in my cofRn
will you promise that I shall have the quilt placed
over me? Cover my face and body with it. I want
my precious mother to know I remained firm to the
last. Mother said if I died in the Korth, my body
w^as to be brought home. When the casket is
opened, she will see her boy was true to the flag!"
The dear fellow's request was granted, and the
mother was proud of her son.
JOSEPH AND HIS FATHER.
Permit me to add another pathetic incident that
came under my personal observation. There was a
prisoner named Joseph, returned from Andersonville.
He was near death, and wishing to die under the
parental roof, asked me to write home for some one
to come for him, as he was too weak to travel alone.
In an incredibly short time I noticed an aged gentle-
man trying to climb the steps of the ward. As I
sprang to his aid he remarked : "' I came for my son
OUR ARMY NURSES. 371
Joseph. I started in just twenty minutes after
reading your letter." I escorted this father of
eighty years to his son's cot, and they clasped
hands in happy greeting. Then the old man
exclaimed, "There is some mistake; this is not my
Joseph!" His disappointment was so great that he
would have fallen if we had not caught him. We
tried hard to convince him, but the tears kept rolling
down his wrinkled cheeks while he repeated over and
over, " l^o, no ; my son was a large, fleshy man, six
feet two; " and he paced to and fro saying, " l^o, no;
it's not my Joseph." With tears in his eyes the
poor soldier began to call up home scenes; still the
father could not be convinced, until he said: "Father,
don't you remember how I was converted after T
enlisted ? You were praying for me, kneeling on one
side, with your hand on my head, mother on the
other side, when the Lord spoke peace to me. My
dear mother said, ^ jS^ow, father, we can let our only
child go.' " At this recital the father said, " Yes,
yes; I know now you are my son." - The scene drew
tears from many an eye. The next morning we pre-
pared cordials and everything necessary for two
feeble invalids during a tedious journey, fearing
neither would reach home. Joseph died the next
day in his mother's arms, and the aged father and
mother soon followed him to the " Golden Shore."
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Eunice M. Brown, nee Fairbanks.
Ill Arlington Street, Cleveland, Ohio.
372
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. ELVIRA MASON.
RS. ELVIRA MAS0:N" was assigned to duty
December, 1864, at Dale, United States Hos-
pital, Worcester, Mass., upon application of
C. ]Sr. Chamberlain, surgeon in charge; and
received an honorable discharge, Sept. 20, 1865.
She writes: —
I did not go into the field, so of course I did not
endure the suffering and privation that others did.
I went from the town of Si)encer, Mass., and retui-ned
there when my labors at tlie hospital wei-e ended. If
I were well enough to write, I should be glad to tell
of many incidents that came under my observation.
I consider the ten months in the hospital the most
interesting part of my life. My duty was mostly to
look out for the extra diet of those who were not
able to go to the mess table. In spite of my weak-
ness I will note one little incident.
One day the orderly came to tell me there was a
new patient in Ward 6, a prisoner from Anderson-
ville, and that he was a mere skeleton. I thought I
would take him a good dinner, so I went to the
Extra Diet Kitchen and prepared a piece of beefsteak,
some mashed potato, a slice of nicely browned toast,
and a mug of tea. He was sitting about midway of
the ward, and I went immediately to him, saying:
"Good morning, my poor fellow! I have brought
you a nice dinner." He gave it one glance, then
373
374
OUR ARMY NURSES.
turned his head away, saymg-, " Oh, don't, don't !'^
''Don't what'?" said I. "Arn't you hungry?"
"Don't bring me so mueh. It makes me sick!" I
understood tlie situation and carried the food away,
bringing back only a httle on a small plate. "I
think I can eat that," he said. Every day I
increased the amount until he could eat a full
ration. His eyes began to brighten, and soon he
could go about the wai'd with the other boys ; but I
shall never forget the look he gave that plate of
dinner.
I wish I were able to write more but cannot.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Mrs. Elvira Mason.
West Pullman, III.
376
OUR ARMY NURSES.
JANE M. WORRALL.
'T the commencement of the late Rebellion I
resided with my husband and two children
in Sonthwestern Yirginia, but the feeling- of
the Southern people toward Union sympa-
thizers was such that we returned to Boston,
Mass., the journey requiring two weeks.
Business soon called Mr. Worrall back to Yirginia?
where he was taken prisoner. After undergoing
many hardships he escaped, and made his way to
Boston, where he at once enlisted in the 24th
IMassachusetts Yolunteers. In 1863 he reinlisted
for three years more; serving in all four years
and eight months. I then decided to enter the
service as an army nurse, commissioned by Miss
D. L. Dix. I was first assigned to the Columbia
College Hospital, "Washington, D. C, and imme-
diately took charge of a Avard of twenty-five cots,
some of the patients very sick, some badly wounded.
The hospital stood upon a little eminence, and as I
wended my way toward it I met a funeral procession.
Instantly the tears of sympathy stole to my eyes as
I thought of the brave heart now cold and still. He
had fought and died for his country. Suddenly I
dried my tears, saying : " If I am to be of any use
I must learn to control myself. I am here to cheer,
not to sadden, the lives of my patients." After I
arrived the matron escorted me through the ward
377
378 OUR AR3fV NURSES.
of .suffering, dying men. I shed no tears, and when
we had completed the ronnd the matron said: "Mrs.
TVorrall, of all the nurses we have had, you are the
only one who has refrained from crying when going
through the ward the first time. I know you will
make a good and true nurse."
At the exjjiration of my term of duty here, there
was a call for nui'ses at Fortress Monroe, and I
learned with pleasure that I was to go there. We
were met and escorted to Chesapeake Hospital by a
delegation of convalescent soldiers. I was assigned
to AYard 1, containing sixty-five cots. All were
officers, some suffering greatly^ but I felt that
with the help of my Heavenly Father I could do
the work. I remained there about six months,
and during that time acted as special nurse to
the Confederate General Walker, of South Caro-
lina. He was badly wounded, and was taken
prisoner by Mr. Worrall's company. On the way
he asked for water, and as Mr. Worrall gave it to
him he said, " Is it possible that you, a Northern man,
will show kindness to a Southerner ? " " Certainly,"
was the reply. "You are now a wounded man." I
did what I could for him, and assisted in dressing his
wounds for a])out three months; then he was
exchanged. I was also special nurse to Captain
Small and Captain Babb, both Union men. There
was only one death in my ward while at Fortress
Monroe; that was a lieutenant from Connecticut,
shot through the body. He was a great sufferer,
and died of internal hemorrhage. I did not leave
OUR ARMY NURSES. 379
him day or night, only to attend to the wants of
the other patients. I sent for his father, who was
with him when he gave up the "battle of life."
At last my health began to fail, and I told the
surgeon in charge I should have to go home for
awhile, or be assigned to lighter duties; but Doctor
McClennen said I could not be spared, so for a week
I gave up my work. Then came a call for nurses at
West Building Hospital, Baltimore, and I went there
to take Ward 4, of thirty-five cots. I remained until
the hospital closed. There were some severe cases
of shot and shell wounds, but after a time my ward
became convalescents, and were assigned light duty.
Then the cots were filled with rebel prisoners, badly
wounded, who in turn were exchanged for Union
men from Libby Prison. A more distressing sight
could not be imagined. They were in a dying condi-
tion, nearly starved. Five died within twenty-foui*
hours. Those who could talk told me they had not
had water to wash their faces and hands for three
months; and if a bone was thrown to them they
would fight for it like dogs. They were all brought
on stretchers, and it was only with the best of care
that any of them were saved.
While there I had a very singular case. The sur-
geon said he had never seen anything like it. A
Confederate boy only sixteen years of age, and very
ignorant so far as book-learning was concerned, was
brought to the ward A\ath a field amputation; but his
doom was sealed. He had the lockjaw, and lay for
twenty-four hours, when all I could do for him was
380 OUR ARMY NURSES.
to wet a piece of linen in brandy and lay it across his
mouth, so he could breathe the moisture from it. He
came out of that dreadful state perfectly rational,
and after taking some nourishment, asked me to pray
with him. I did so, and read the fourteenth chapter
of St. John, which I read to all my patients who
would listen to me. Then he talked about two
hours, — using the most beautiful language about
the Bible and the glories of heaven. He certainly
was inspired. Everybody who could do so came to
hear him. At last, addressing me, he said: ^^ Mother,
don't you see the angels coming ? They are holding
out their hands to take me home." Then he dropped
away like a child going to sleep.
Just before the hospital closed five typhoid fever
cases were brought to the ward. One died, and I
contracted the fever in its worst form ; and although
everything was done for me I barely escaped, and
have never been well since. I feel that my Heavenly
Father blessed me all through my work, and carried
me through my sickness. I was in the service a year
and a half, and have the honor of being breveted
major.
Jane M. Woeeall.
9 Warrex Place, Roxbury, Mass.
382
OUR ARMY NURSES.
FANNIE A. HARPER.
J IS" the winter of 1862 and 1863 I Avas called to the
hospital at Le Senr, to see my hnsband, who
was seriously ill with erysipelas. The doctors
had given up hope, and no one expected to see
him out again ; but I took care of him from that time,
and he came out all right.
There were twenty-four sick soldiers, and no
woman to nurse them; so I volunteered, for they
were sadly in need of some one. I remained about
five months, during which there were five deaths.
The sickness was mostly pneumonia and typhoid
fever; one died of heart disease. The hospital
steward died on his way home on a sick fui-lough,
and was laid to rest in Mound City.
I had a little son born in April, 1863. He was
baptized by our chaplain, Ezra Lathrop. I went with
the connnand when it was ordered to Memphis,
Tenn., where I entered the field hospital. During the
warm weather there was a large amount of sickness
and death, sometimes two or three funerals a day,
though our quarters were very comfortable, and our
boys received good care; besides which, the Chris-
tian and Sanitary Commissions brought many luxu-
ries for the soldiers.
How well I remember when Forrest came with
his men to take Memphis ! He was met by a strong
force of the "boys in blue," and driven back; but
383
384
OUR ARMY NURSES.
they made a raid on our hospital, and killed lots of
our sick in their bunks.
Later I had fever and ague, and left just before
the battle of N^ashville. I did not return, as the war
had closed before I regained my health.
I belonged to the hospital of the 10th Minnesota
Infantry, First Brigade, First Division, 16th Army
Corps. Commanded by Gen. A. J. Smith.
Yours very truly,
FajStnie a. Habper,
RosKMOUNT, Minx.
386 OUR ARMY NURSES.
ELIZABETH O. GIBSON.
/^N the first day of October, 1861, I received
11 orders from Washington, through Miss Doro-
^^ thea Dix, to report for duty at St. Louis,
immediately. Uj^on my arrival I was detailed
to duty October 2d, in the surgical ward of Fifth
Street Military Hospital, St. Louis, where I served,
under Di-. John T. Hodgen, twenty-one months.
Then patients and nurses were removed to Jeffer-
son Barracks, Missouri, twelve miles down the river.
Dr. John F. Randolph, of the regular army, was in
charge there. My detail of service to that hospital
was dated July 24, 1863.
October 26th I received orders to report for duty
at Harvey Genei-al Hospital, Madison, Wis., and
Oct. 13, 1865, received my discharge from hospital
service, and returned to Cincinnati; my discharge
being signed by Dr. Howard Culbertson, who was
in charge at the Harvey Hospital.
To write a sketch of that four years would require
more space than you could give, but I must say this :
I count it a high honor to have been an army nurse,
and a great privilege to have ministered to the noble
men of the volunteer army. I was also especially
blessed in having for head surgeons such noble men
as Doctor Hodgen and Doctor Culbertson. The
lives of both were shortened by their devotion to
suffering humanity.
387
388 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Mary A. Livermore spent a part of one day in the
surgical ward of the Fifth Street Hospital, and has
given a vivid description of the sufferings of the men
who were wounded at Fort Donaldson. She has also
told how she finally nerved herself to endure the
horrible sights and sounds, and so be enabled to
alleviate the suffering; and her experience was
that of hundreds of sensitive Avomen who entered
the hospitals during the war. In this ward that
she describes I was on duty foi-ty-two nights in
succession, and at any time afterwards when critical
cases needed a woman's watchfulness.
In the four years of service I fainted only once,
but many and many a night I have thought I could
not live until morning, so intense was my sympathy
with the soldiers ; and not until I join the " silent
majority " shall I be free from bodily suffering
caused by my Avar experiences.
I was allowed to go to the battlefield of Shiloh,
because I could dress wounds; also to Yicksburg
during the siege. From Shiloh our boat took four
hundred and thirty-nine men. They were the last
on the field, and many of them were mortally
wounded. From Vicksburg the boat carried less
than from Shiloh, but on the return trip we had
the experience of being fired upon by the rebels.
The gunboat that was guarding us soon scattered
them, however, and we were not molested again.
Yours in F., C. and L.,
Elizabeth O. Gibson.
849 Appleton Stiieet, Appletox, Wis.
390
OUR ARMY NURSES.
^
MATILDA E. MORRIS.
i
ARLY in the war I conceived the phm of going
^ into some hospital as a nurse; but my friends
would not listen to my plan, saying there was
^ work enongh to do at home In spite of this,
I conld not feel that making shirts, bandages, etc.,
was all I ought to do. My mother finally gave her
consent, and I wrote to David Todd, then Governor
of Ohio, to see if I could get a pass. In about a
week came a reply, containing pass and transporta-
tion to Washington, D. C. I was not long in
making my preparations, yet it seemed a great un-
dertaking, as I was not accustomed to traveling
alone. It was one morning in August, 1862, that I
left my home in Randolph, Ohio, leaving my two
dear little daughters in the care of their loyal grand-
parents, Avho bade me Godspeed in my undertaking,
though it was a sad joarting, — for God alone knew
whether we should meet again on earth. I took the
train at Atwater, Ohio, Aug. 20, 1862, and at Wheel-
ing, W. Ya., our trouble began. A dispatch had
been received before our arrival, warning the officers
not to start any train for Washington until further
notice was given, as the rebels were making a raid
on every train on the B. & O. R. R. One thousand
soldiers were sent to clear the way, and the next
morning word came that the train could start. We
knew it was still a perilous undertaking, yet we were
391
392 OUR ARMY NURSES.
glad to take some risk rather than wait any longer.
Here I had been befriended by a f\imily of Quakers,
who were waiting for the same train. The gentle-
man had been over the road a great many times, so
he could point out all the places of interest. He
had been employed by President Lincoln as a scout
all through those mountains, and was only taking his
wife and sister to Baltimore, then would start on
another scouting expedition. He gave much valu-
able information, and a letter of introduction to some
friends of theirs in Washington. We did not see
anything of the enemy, but heard occasional firing,
and of course knew what that meant. We parted at
Annapolis, never to meet again ; and that evening I
arrived in Washington, but it was too late to see my
husband, who was wounded and in a hospital there.
I was very tired, and glad of a good night's rest at
the hotel. When I awoke I could scarcely believe
that I was at the Capital of the United States (or,
rather. Divided States, just then). At nine o'clock I
went to Armory Square Hospital, and found my hus-
band's wound much worse than I had expected. I
will not try to tell you how we felt, to meet again
after so long a time, although under such trying
circumstances.
When the surgeon came to make his morning call
I told him why I was there, and what I wanted to do,
and learned that there would soon be need of more
nurses. The next morning I reported to Doctor Bliss,
and we had a long talk, which ended by his engaging
me to begin my duties as soon as more patients came.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 393
He told me to remain until he needed me, but I
was not idle very long.
One day I saw Doctor Bliss coming up the walk
in great haste. "Ladies," he said, "it* you have
anything in particular that you wish to have done,
do it now, for your ward will soon be full, and there
will be plenty of work for us all. The enemy are
coming this way, and there will be a big fight to
keep them from entering the city." This was
August 27th. Then came the Second Battle of Bull
Run. The excitement in Washington was intense.
We could hear the cannonading constantly. There
were only a few patients left in our wards, and we
put everything in readiness. We were near both of
the river depots, where the wounded would be landed.
Soon we heard a great commotion outside, and,
looking, I beheld what I never wish to see again.
A sadder sight one could not imagine than those
loads of wounded men. That day my life as a hos-
pital nui'se commenced. Our hearts and hands were
full, tending to so many. Some died before they
reached the building. Each ward had fifty beds
and two nurses; but at home we think it hard
work to care for one patient. It was a hard day
for us all. First we gave each a drink of cold water,
as that was their only cry. I shall never forget one
poor fellow who was lying near an old building. He
looked as if he were dead, but I stooj^ed to make
sure, and thought I saw Ms lips move. The man
who was carrying the pail cried : " Come along ! He
is dead, fast enough." "^No; wait a minute," I
394 OUR ARMY NURSES.
replied, and began to wet his lips. Very soon I
had him revived so much that he could drink out
of my cup. He was a ^ew York Zouave. The next
time I saw him he was on his way to his regiment.
After water had been given to all we w^ent around
with bread and butter and coffee. Oh, how the poor
hungry fellows did relish it! I had many a "God
bless you " that day. A great many had been
carried into the wards while we were working out-
side, and we next procured washbasins, soap and
water, and went to w^ashing the blood from their
faces, — a work that was very grateful to the men.
This occupied the time until midnight.
I might write volumes about what happened in this
one hospital, but shall have to pass over a great
many events.
One battle followed another, and each furnished
Avounded soldiers. I remained until after the battles
of the "Wilderness and of Spottsylvania Court House.
I have a little Testament that one of my boys gave
me. He picked it up in the Wilderness. Poor
fellow, he died on the way home. His father
came for him, and stopped in Pliiladelphia to get
another son who was so badly wounded that he was
not expected to live many days. Another son w^as at
the front. The father wrote to inform me of his
boy's death, and he said that the mother's heart
was almost broken. And so it was all through the
war: fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, —
all suffering for the same cause.
After being in Armory Square Hospital a long
OUR ARMY NURSES. 395
time I was transferred to Fiiidley Hospital, also
situated in Washington, where I remained several
months nnder Doctor Pancoast. We did not have
much to do, and I made up my mind to go to the
front. The doctor said he would like to have me
stay, but finally made out my discharge papers. He
also gave me a splendid recommendation. I feel
very proud of these papers, as I do also those given
me by Doctor Bliss.
In order to go to the front I had to enlist with
Miss Dix. After going through with considerable
red tape she employed another nurse and myself, and
had us sent to Sandy Hook, near Harper's Ferry,
where we reported to Surgeon Barnes, in October,
1864. He told us there was not much to do, as he
had just sent away a lot of wounded men; but we
had better stay, and perhaps there would be more
in soon. I said, "]^^o; let us go farther down into the
valley." So he gave us passes and transportations
to Harper's Ferry. They were made out to take us
to Winchester, Va., but we could not go for several
days, as General Sheridan was there with his cavalry.
We all remember the battle, and the victories he
achieved in the valley of the Shenandoah. In
October, when things became a little more quiet,
we started for Martinsbarg. We had not gone
more than half way when we had quite a thrilling
adventure. Suddenly our train came to a standstill.
The rebels had been there the night before and torn
up the track for miles, and wrecked and burned the
train ahead of ours. There we were in a barren
396 OUR ARMY NURSES.
country, not a house in sight, and with the enemy
all around us. The rebels had made a mistake, and
they were wild with disappointment. It was our
train that had the pay-car attached, and that was
why we had so many soldiers aboard.
Report said that a lady had been burned; and as
Miss Evans and myself were walking- along the track,
I found a piece of partly burned hair that surely had
come from some woman's head. There was melted
glass and iron all around, — ruins everywhere; and
we were glad when the road was repaired and we
could leave that awful place, the sight of which
made us nearl^^ sick. AVe reached Martinsville late
at night, very tired and hungry. The next day we
started for AVinchester, and oh, how it did rain ! But
we never stopped for rain in war times. At the
station was an ambulance train to take us the
remainder of the distance. I think there must
have been a thousand soldiers to guard the stores,
for an officer "had said, " The rebs are thick as flies
in Ausrust alono^ that route." General Custer was
with us, and several other oflficers whose names I
did not learn. It was a dreadful march. The boys
waded through mud and water the livelong day, but
not a murmur could we hear. At noon we halted at
a place called Bunker Hill. There was wood on one
side and an open field on the other. It was a dreary-
loolring place. Soon after the train stopped we saw
two men riding into the woods, and supposed they
had gone as scouts. In a few minutes we heard a
shot at no great distance, and soon saw the same men
OUR ARMY NURSES. 397
returning with a pig across the back of one of the
horses. I never saw anything prepared to cook as
soon as that pig. They did not stop to scald it,
as the farmers do, but pulled off the whole skin, and
in a short time the animal was in slices. In the
meantime a fire had been started, and soon the
cofFee-kettles and frying-pans were on. I told Miss
Evans I was going to have some of that meat for oui-
dinner. She skeptically inquired how I should get it.
I took a can of condensed milk and some salt, and
soon made a trade. The boys seemed to enjoy the
fun, and some of them carried ns some coffee.
It was a cold, dreary ride, but after a great many
halts and skirmishes we arrived in Winchester about
midnight. The next day Ave reported to Doctor
Hayden, at Sheridan Hospital, which was composed
entirely of tents, some so low that we had to stoop to
enter; but they were all full of badly wounded men.
If the scene at Armory Square was dreadful, this
was a thousand times more so. Here the men lay
on the bare ground, with knapsacks, boots, or any-
thing for a pillow that w^ould raise the head. Pas-
sing along, I saw things that made me sick at heart.
A young man not more than eighteen had both legs
shot off. He could not live, yet he seemed cheerful.
We did what we could for them with our limited
means; but finally our supplies gave out, and even
hard-tack became a luxury. We were told to care
for the Confederates as we did for our own, and we
obeyed orders; but deep in my heart I could not
feel the same.
398 OUR ARMY NURSES.
We remained there until it was safe to move the
men to Baltimore. 'Wq had hospital cars, which are
a little wider than ordinary ones, and are placed on
springs. They have on each side three tiers of
berths or cots, suspended by rubber bands, and so
arranged as to yield to the motion. I made two
tri^DS with this train, and the men said it went like a
cradle. It was a pleasure to take care of so cheer-
ful a company. My journey lasted two days and
nights, and I think I never passed forty-eight
hours so fraught with both sad and pleasant
memories.
We rej^orted again to Miss Dix, who sent us back
to Findley Hospital, where I remained until April,
1865; then went into the city to stay with some
friends named Edson. One of them was (Miss)
Dr. Susan Edson, who Avith Doctor Bliss were
prominent figures during President Garfield's sick-
ness.
One day I saw an immense crowd gathered in
front of the War Department. Secretary Stanton
was reading a dispatch from General Grant, —
" Richmond and Petersburg are ours. " This
caused great rejoicing, which deepened when the
news of the capitulation of the rebel army was
flashed over the wires. The next night we went
to the W^hite House, to hear the President speak.
I shall never forget how his face lit up with joy.
But ah, this Avas his last speech! A fcAV brief days
o£ wild i-ejoicing followed; then the bright future
was suddenly overcast as Treason guided the assas-
OUR ARMY NURSES.
399
sin's hand in its deadly work. The mighty liad
fallen, — Abraham Lincoln, the noblest of mar-
tyrs, to a noble cause!
While I was at Armory Square Hospital he visited
it several times. And how the boys would rally if
we told them "Uncle Abraham" was coming. He
would go down one side of the ward and up the
other, shaking hands with every one, and spealdng
a kind word. He would then shake hands with me,
ask me about my work and my home, and charge me
to be good to "his boys," I have often seen the
tears roll down his careworn cheeks while he was
talking with some Avounded soldier.
After the funeral I went with fi-iends to Rich-
mond, and visited many places of interest. Among
them, that terrible death-trap, Libby Prison, and
do not understand how any of our men came out
alive. I saw the basement floors paved with cobble
stones, and a little straw was thrown here and there.
The floor was so slimy we could hardly walk; yet
here our men had to eat and sleep.
I saw Sheridan's army pass through the place on
its way to Washington. The men had many strange
pets on their shoulders. Some had owls, others
coons, and one had a bantam rooster, that crowed
several times in my heai'ing. It took two days for
them to pass, and we carried barrels of water for
them to drink. The Secesh were surprised to see
so many left to go home. I was talking with
one of Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry men, and told him
that was only a small branch of our army. He
400 OUR ARMY NURSES.
replied, " Madam, we are beaten, but not con-
quered."
May 18th I started for Washington. I reached
the boat in good season, and supposed I was all
right, but a colored man soon came to me and
said, "How came you on this boat ?'' I told him and
showed my pass. " Oh, you are all right, madam, so
far as that goes; but we never carry passengers on
General Grant's private boat." I said I was exceed-
ingly sorry for the mistake, and he could put me off
at the next landing. Dui'ing the conversation a
military-loolving man had seated himself near us,
and seemed to be reading; but I knew he heard
every word, and I also knew very well who he
was. He soon laid down his paper, saying, " Sam,
what is the matter?" "Dis lady is on your private
boat, sah." He came to me and said, "Madam, will
you please to tell me all about it? " I did so, and he
answered: "I don't see anything very serious about
this mistake; there is room for us all. Make your-
self pei'fectly at home. We only go to City Point,
but you can change boats there," Then turning to
the waiter he told him to " make the lady comfortable
while she remains on board." This gentleman was
our good General Grant.
At City Point we shook liands, he bade me good-
bye, and I thanked him again for his Idndness, then
continued my journey. In the meantime my husband
had secured his discharge papers, and we bade adieu
to our associates.
Peace reigned once more. All that remained to
OUR ARMY NURSES. 401
be (lone was to go home and make glad the hearts of
tliose from whom we had been parted so long. M}^
father was at the same station where I left him
almost three years before. Soon we met mother,
sisters, and our own dear little girls.
This was a great many years ago, and those girls
have children of their own now, and we are grandpa
and gi-andma. They often coax me to tell a story of
the war. My father and mother have long since
gone to the home to which we must soon follow;
but it is a pleasure to recall the fact that I had a
part in the beneficent work in which it was woman's
peculiar privilege to serve her country. I feel
abundantly rewarded by the knowledge of having
done something to alleviate the suffering of those
who gave health and worldly j^rospects, ties of home,
and even life itself in the perilous service.
Sweet flowers and tender plants creep over the
graves that were made so long ago on many a
field and hillside; and thus tender memories arise
to enwrap the gaunt figure, and veil the grim
visage, of "War, that must forever stand a central
object ujDon the canvas that portrays the history
of those memorable years.
I thank God for all his mercies and blessings
during all these years. It was He who led us
through; and if we love and obey Him, He will
take ns nnto Himself, Avhere all will be joy and
'peace, forever.
Matilda E. Mokris.
112 Harbor Strket, Clf-vkland, C)hio.
402
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. CECILIA WHITE.
J HAD transportations furnished me by Mrs.
Wittenmeyer, to go to St. Louis. Then Presi-
dent Yeatman provided me with transportations
to Memphis, Tenn., where I was assigned to
Washington Hospital, going on duty about the 15th
of SejDtember, 1863, and remaining until September,
1864.
After I had been there a couple of weeks Doctor
Wright came to me one morning to know what I was
doing for the sick in my ward. " Doctor, I am doing
all there is for me to do. You restrict us so that
there is nothing for us to do." "In what way,
madam?" "We are not allowed to prepare any-
thing nice for the very sick ones, and they cannot eat
the food from the kitchen." He made no reply; but
that afternoon the steward put a nice cooking stove
into an empty room, also the necessary supplies. In
the morning the Doctor said, " Come with me, and I
will show you your kitchen." I assure you we made
good use of it, and it was very pleasant to hear the
soldiers say, "That makes me think of home and
mother," when they ate the little delicacies we
j)repared.
I often think how little the people at home knew
of what was going on in the hospital or on the battle-
field. It seemed very sad to me to see men carried
to the dead-house day after day, and know that some
403
404 OUR ARMY NURSES.
poor mother, wife, or sister would mourn for each
dear one.
One day the doctor told me of a young lieutenant
at the hotel, and asked me to carry him something,
and try to comfort him. He had been badly wounded
through the right lung, in a skirmish the day before.
I went as the doctor requested, bathed the poor fel-
low's face and hands, and combed his hair; but he
was too sick for me to talk to him much then.
Later, I said to him one morning, "War is a ter-
rible thing!" "Yes," he answered. "If it hadn't
been for that man who was put in the chair,
we should not have had this dreadful war." "I
beg leave to differ with you," I replied. " I believe
he was a man of God's own choosing; he raised him
up for this very purpose." I never enjoyed visiting
him after that, and was glad when his friends came, a
week later.
Our nurses did nine months' hard work, cooking in
the kitchen in addition to their other duties; then
Mrs. Wittenmeyer and her assistants established a
branch of the Christian Commission, and we soon
went home.
I was forty-six years old when I went into the hos-
pital, and now I am rapidly nearing the time when
my years will number fourscore.
Mrs. Cecilia White.
868 North Strekt, Buklixgton, Iowa.
406
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. L. H. HUSINGTON.
J WAS enrolled under the name of Lauretta H.
Cutler. I went from West Williamsfield,
Ohio, May, 1864, and entered the service at
Hospital !N^o. 1, Chattanooga, Tenn., commis-
sioned by James E. Yeatman, acting agent of Miss
Dix. I remained there in Nos. 1 and 2 until I was
released, in June, 1865.
During the first few weeks I worked in the
kitchen, visiting the wards a little while each day;
then I became a regular nurse. JSTo. 1 Hospital was
composed partly of framed buildings, formerly used
as a hospital by Bragg; the remainder of tents. If
my memory serves me well, its capacity was six
hundred; and when I went there it was full of
sick and wounded soldiers. Here it was that I
first began to learn the lesson (that difficult lesson
that all nurses had to learn) to govern, or, I would
better sa}^, battle against my feelings, and work with
a will for the sufferers. I also learned how little I
could do in comparison to what was needed to be
done, and often I could do no more than give a kind
look or word to show that I would do more if it
were in my power.
Alas ! how degradingly cheap is human life in time
of war, when our fathers, husbands, brothers, and
sons must deliberately kill each other, and call it a
victory. I recall a young soldier who was brought
407
408 OUR ARMY' NURSES.
in with an unjointed shoulder, — pale, excited, and
delirious. As I approached his cot he said : " O
mother, I have just been home, and saw you on the
lawn with the young folks, but you would not speak
to me. l!^ow you are here, can't you give me some
lemonade?" But when I took it to him he cheer-
fully gave it to another, who was in a dying con-
dition.
It is only those who have experienced life in a
hospital, who can get a clear picture from a
description in words. It must all be seen and felt
to be known; even then, in my case, at least, much
has faded from my memory in the lapse of thirty
years.
I look to my diary half in vain, for much of it is
filled with orders from the surgeon, like this:
Division 1, Ward 3, bed 35, milk; bed 33, milk
and fruit. Ward 8, bed 10, beef tea, toast, and
peaches; bed 15, arrowroot. AVard 2, fever case,
raspberry vinegar. Ward 5, bed 6, mush and milk;
bed 1, oysters.
There were many letters to write, and sanitary
things to distribute, — writing paper, stamps, and
comfort bags.
There was one called the typhoid fever ward. I
went there, and carried cooling drinks and brushed
out the flies. I often looked ujd their comrades in
some regiment, or sometimes relatives, whom I would
find, perhaps, in the erysipelas ward, with faces so
swollen that they could not see; then carried mes-
sages between them. At length I caught the fever.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 409
but the intelligent care I received saved my life.
Then I Avas allowed to spend a few weeks on Look-
out Mountain, with my first colaborer, Miss Bal^cock,
who had been assigned to duty there. On my
return I was ordered to ^o. 2, at the request of
Surgeon Collins. The i^risoners' ward was here.
They had their prayer meetings, and prayed to the
same Saviour for their cause, just as our men did.
But oh, the horrors of war ! May such things never
be seen again.
Once we had a large quantity of grapes sent to us;
and these my orderly and I distributed to all who
were able to eat them. I distributed many pocket
handkerchiefs, too, which were thankfully received,
sometimes with tears; for you who read this will
remember that those handkerchiefs were "home-
made," and so were doubly valuable to the boys.
In the camp were various diseases, small-pox
among the rest. Some poor fellows were home-
sick, and this malady one must experience in order
to know how easily it may become fatal. I remem-
ber one such case. The surgeon said: "I cannot
rouse him. Do what you can." His eyes seemed
set, his limbs cold, and finger-nails somewhat dark.
Working upon the supposition that he was home-
sick, I commenced to talk of home, his mother, and
other loved ones. He listened, but could not speak
for some time. Finally I asked him what his mother
would give him in such a sickness as this. After
several attempts he said, brokenly, "Brandy and
peaches." I assured him he should have them;
410 OUR ARMY NURSES.
then requested the nurse to heat bricks and put
around him; his hands and feet were well rubbed,
and I gave him whatever he thought he would have
had at home, and he was saved.
Later, another poor boy was brought in from the
convalescents' camp; he was near his end from the
same cause. His request in broken German was for
" The Lord's Supper." He said, " Please give it to
me, for I cannot die without it." After some delay
and much anxiety I succeeded in having it adminis-
tered to him.
Thanksgiving Day, 1864, we had a Thanksgiving
dinner. This was like an oasis in the desert to us
all. Among the guests were several military officers
of high rank. Our own Ex-President Harrison
(then a young man), being the brightest, was called
w\)Ow for a speech, and introduced as the grandson
of a former President. In reply he said, " I dislike
to be introduced by a reference to relatives who are
dead: the inference is that, like a potato, the best
part of me is underground." How well I remember
my anxiety to have the parade over, so the boys in
the wards could have their dinner.
Dear reader, I have tried to tell you some few
things about the work, but a thousandth part of the
patient, uncomplaining suffering in field and hospital
can never be told. That such scenes may never be
re-enacted, is the earnest prayer of an army nurse.
Mrs. L. H. Husington.
{Formerly Nurse Cutler.)
Box 126, RocHKLi.E, III.
412
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ADELIZA PERRY.
)DELIZA PERRY, army nurse at Fort Schuyler
and Balfour Hospitals, to the dear boys who
are left, their old nurse sends loving greetingSo
And with those beloved comrades who went
forth from our midst, over whom together we wept
and strove, oh ! so vainly, to hold back, hopefully we
will look forward to a joyous reunion.
OUR HEROES.
Think of President Garfield, — think of Ex-Presi-
dent Grant! Words cannot express our admiration
for the heroism and fortitude with which they endured
their sufferings and met the end. But what have we
for those others, the most of them mere boys, with all
of life's promise and high hopes before them, far
away from familiar faces and the ministrations of
loving hands, bearing up under the agonies of mortal
sickness, looking forward to, and meeting, the dread
messenger without a murmur? In my hospital ex-
perience I could number such by hundreds, — yes,
I think by thousands. I cannot recall a case, as long
as the mind of the sufferer remained clear, where he
was not bravely cheerful and intrepidly resigned to
move on, obedient to the last call.
A Wisconsin boy, wounded, and suffering from
malaria, was in a ward of half convalescents, of
which, true to his fun-loving nature, he was the very
life. We had thought he was on the road to recovery.
414 OUR ARMY NURSES.
I was busy in another part of the building, one morn-
ing, when word was brought that he was worse, and
wished to see me. A hospital nurse learns to read
the signs of approaching dissolution unerringly. The
luster had gone out of his young, joyous eyes, but he
was smiling. I laid my hand npon his forehead,
already clammy with the damps of approaching death.
"Oh, that is so good!" he said; '''that is like my
mother's hand." He stopped now to recover the
gasping bi-eath. " Couldn't you," he went on, after a
moment's struggling, oh! so pitifully, to keep up his
voice, " briug — me some — floAvers? " I flew to the
hospital I'eception-room, and clipped every bit of
bloom from our few window plants. " Thank yon,"
he gasped, with his beautiful, boyish smile, as I
laid them upon the fast-stiffening fingers. " ^ow —
couldn't you get — get — something to tie — them
tofrether, — so I can — hold them?" The voice was
hardly audible. I cut the tape that held my scissors,
and secured them; then he looked entirely gratified.
" Thanks ! " I just caught the word before the smil-
ing lips fell apart, and the labored breathing ceased.
In another ward, at this time, there lay a New
Hampshire boy, quietly awaiting the last summons
which he knew was surely close at hand. One day,
as I was waiting at his bedside, he whispered: "Put
your hand under my pillow. You will find a wallet
with a ball of yarn in it; it is wound round a fifty-
dollar bill. Please to hide it; it isn't safe here. As
soon as I am gone send it b}^ express to my folks.
The address is in the wallet." His manner was as
OUR ARMY NURSES. 415
composed, and his voice as calm, as though he were
contemplating an ordinary journey. He was " gone "
before the end of another twenty-four hours; and it
was not until after I had expressed the parcel that I
learned that I had violated a rigid rule of the service,
which forbade every hospital attendant taking charge
of property of any kind belonging to a patient.
At one time a large number of sick and wounded
men were brought into our hospital, all in such a state
of exhaustion that the surgeon in charge gave me
permission to deal out among them some delicious
home-made wine, which had been sent me from
Massachusetts. How glad I Avas that it seemed to
carry comfoi't and reviving energy, until I reached
one more prostrated, I thought, than any to whom I
had ministered. "What is it?" he asked, feebly,
wistfully lifting a pair of mild brown eyes. I ex-
plained, and he shook his head, oh, I felt through all
my being, so reproachfully ! " I promised my mother,"
the poor lips had barely vigor to articulate, then
rested. After a time the four noble words were
repeated, — no more. Then the eyelids fell, and he
dropped asleep. Before morning he was dead. How
I wished then, how I wish to-day, that I could see
that young man's mother and clasp her hand. How
the memory of " mother " or some other beloved one
at home, mingled itself with the last earthly thought.
One day while passing between the cots the hand
of a mature man clutched my dress. He was wildly
delirous, and dying. " I have two beautiful little
girls," he held me long enough to say. The expres-
416 OUR ARMY NURSES.
sion of the wasted face seemed to radiate light, — a
light that did not leave it even after the featnres had
settled into the tranqnility of death.
" Don't tell them how had off I am," wonld be the
entreaty when I wrote "the letter home/' "It wonld
Avorry them. Say I'm better, — getting on slowly.''
Oh how niany, many times I have taken snch letters
to my room to add the grief-carrying postscrij)t that
it seemed to me a cruelty to withhold ! On one such
occasion I met the large-hearted surgeon, who
counseled me not to do it. "Send it as it is," he
said. "There may yet be a change; who knows?"
But the " chang-e " removed the sufferer to the
spiritual world. Meantime the letter, speeding to
its destination, summoned the anxious mother to the
hospital, but, alas ! only to see her son's grave. The
remembrance of her agony wrings my heart to-day.
She had brought slippers, in which to move lightly
about the bedside of the loved one, and the photo-
graph of his sister, to gratify the fond brotherly eyes.
These she put into my hands, ^o, no; she could not
take them back! The pretty home picture I still
keep by me, — a sacred memento wliich admits me, as
it were, into membership with a dear family circle.
But why multiply relations? We know that the
records have all been kept, ^o individual has been
overlooked; no iota of character, of aspiration, or
affection, of all the throngs who were under my care,
in the all-fostering Divine thought, has ever missed
its quota of recognition and protecting love.
Adeliza Pp:kry.
15 GouLDiNCr Street, Wokcesteh, Mass.
418
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY E. DARLING.
TJpY husband and myself moved from Wisconsin
|fl to Missouri in 1860. When the war broke out
I ^ he was compelled to hide in corntields imtil
^ '^ he could join a regiment. But it was not the
men only who were in danger; even the women and
children had to flee for their lives. He enlisted at
Memphis, July 20, 1861, and I went into the regiment
in October. They were then home guards, but were
mustered into United States service in December, and
went immediately to Hannibal, Mo. There Doctor
Wyman hired me for the Regimental Hospital. I
was to have twelve dollars a month (I did not receive
a cent, however). I remained there until April.
After the troops left, I had to remain until the sick
could be moved; then I went on with all the supplies,
the wounded having been sent to general hospitals.
As there was no real nursing to do, my duty was
to bake light bread for the convalescents, in accord-
ance with the doctors order; and I often used fifty
pounds of flour a day.
When the army was advancing to Corinth, the 6th
Division Hospital was started, near the battleground
of Shiloh. I remained there until after Corinth was
evacuated, making soups, etc., for the sick, besides
carrying water half a mile for them to drink. The
regiment had to move off without me, but sent a
team back twenty miles, saying I could not be spared
420 OUR ARMY NURSES.
any longer. After joining them I had a hospital tent^
where I resumed my old occupation of nursing and
cooking for the sick. I stayed there until after the
battle of Corinth, in October. Then the regiment
left me and Avent home to Missouri, on a recruiting
furlough, where they remained until November, 1862.
In December my husband was taken with the
typhoid fever, and was sent to Mound City Hospital,
111., where he remained until March, 1863, and during
all this time I heard nothing from him. Then I
received a pass, and word that he was back with his
regiment, and needed my care. I stayed there until
they moved to Memphis, Tenn., where they remained
until the winter of 1864.
I did not go into the hospitals after this, but waited
upon the sick in tents. When the regiment went to
Vicksburg I returned to Benton Barracks, where I
lived until my husband was discharged. He had
continued on duty although he did not speak a word
aloud for four years after having the fever.
My nursing was over, but I did some cooking at
the barracks for paroled soldiers from Southern
])risons, who were not able to cook their rations for
themselves.
Mary E. Darlikg.
San Diego, Cal.
422
OUR ARMY NURSES.
HANNAH E. STARBIRD.
J ENLISTED in August, 18(34, under my maiden
name of Hannah E. Judkins, from Skowhegan,
Maine, under Miss Dix, who had charge of all
the regularly enlisted nurses. I reported at her
house in Washington, and was sent to Carver Hos-
pital immediately, where I first ministered to the
wounded and afflicted soldiers. I remained there
only three weeks, and was then transferred to St.
John's College Hospital, Annapolis, Md., where Dr.
G. S. Palmer was surgeon in charge. I was there
until the hospital was broken up, July 15, 1865. It
accommodated about twelve hundred patients, and
sometimes there were fourteen nurses. It was a post
for paroled prisoners, who were our patients. Pen
cannot describe the first boat-load of half-starved,
half-clothed, thin, emaciated forms whose feet, tied
up in rags, left footprints of blood as they marched
along to be washed and dressed for the wards. In
many cases their minds were demented, and they
could give no information as to friends or home,
and died in that condition, their graves being
mai'ked " Unknown."
The stories related by sick and dying soldiers of
their suffering in prison, corroborates what I have
seen in print, ouly one half cannot be told! The
patience, bravery, and fortitude of our soldier com-
rades will ever be cherished in my memory.
IIaxxah E. Starbird.
No. 1 Gothic Place, 22d California Street,
Denver, Col. 423
424
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. M. J. BOSTON.
J WAS born in Philadelphia, Pa., July 17, 1837,
but at the breaking out of the war, in 1861, was
living at the home of my husband's parents, in
Baltimore. Father Boston was one of the
"Eagle Artillery," — one of Baltimore's defenders in
1812. My own father, James Butler, was also an
old defender in 1812, on the United States ship
"Independence." On April 19, 1861, I inquired of
both brave parents on which side they stood. Both
answered : " The Government we fought for ! Our
flag can never be conquered ! " My reply was, " Be-
neath the same sheltering folds I shall stand, and if
I can be of any assistance to our Union soldiers I
will do what I can." Well, the opportunity came.
In June, 1863, Gettysburg was to be the scene
of fierce struggle, and great preparation must be
made. Orders were sent from headquarters for every
hospital to be put in readiness, convalescents were
transferred to other points, and a temporary hospital
was secured on Central Avenue; while on account of
the railroad coming directly from Gettysburg, a long
row of two-story houses close at hand was vacated,
and here the soldiers could be washed and dressed
before being sent to the different hospitals. Then
came a call for physicians and nui-ses. A brother-in-
law had been used ujd and discharged at Fredericks-
burg, and a brother would be at Gettysburg; so my
426 OUR ARMY NURSES.
heart went out to poor mothers, wives, and sisters
whose loved ones would be exposed to shot and shell
in that fierce struggle, and I said, " Yes, I will go ;
and just as I bind up the wounds of strangers, per-
haps some one will care for my dear brother." An
appeal for supplies was next published in the daily
papers, and received a hearty response. In a few
days everything was in readiness, and some one
placed over each department. One took charge of
the lint, another of bandages, others the giving of
supplies. Some of stronger nerve were the nurses.
I was on hand to wash and dress wounds, though
wholly inexperienced. I am sorry to say there was
no one to book the names. Such a thing was not
thought of in those hurried and exciting scenes. I
worked with others, sewing bandages and preparing
places for supplies. At night my very dear friend
and co-worker, Mrs. Wallace, and myself went solicit-
ing cake, jellies, and fruits. All promised a large
supply when our men arrived, and the promise was
faithfully fulfilled.
July 1st, 2d, and 3d, 1863, will never be forgotten
by me. Dispatches came: '"''The great and terrible
battle has begun ! Many have fallen ! " July 4th
freight trains loaded with wounded arrived. Oh
what a sorrowful scene it was ! Guards were
stationed at each of those houses, to prevent sight-
seers from entering. All workers wore a miniature
flag, pinned on the left breast. Three of these were
given to each, so if one was lost another was at hand.
A physician came to me on the arrival of the first
OUR ARMY NURSES. 407
train and said, "Can yon dress wonnds?" "If
instructed I can," was my reply. lie then sent
me for two buckets of water, two sponges, shirt,
drawers, handkerchief, stockings, bandages, pins,
and lint. Off I went, trembling and nervous at the
first sight of the horrors of war, and procured the
supplies. " ^N'ow, Mrs. Boston, give particular atten-
tion to the cleansing of the wound;" and the doctor
showed me just how nuich blue-stone to drop into a
bucket of water. The other bucket was for bathing:
the face and hands and cleansing the person. Our
first patient was wounded on the foot; and when the
medical treatment was over and a sheet thrown over
him, he thanked me so kindly! I had an assistant,
who was then to bring a sandwich, slice of cake, and
cup of coffee; and while he ate she was to fan him.
I thought the men had eaten " salt-horse and hard-
tack " long enough to have something better on their
an-ival in Baltimoi-e. As we turned away, the doctor
said, " ^N'ow, Mrs. Boston, I have initiated you into
the work." Then to the soldiei's awaiting their turn:
"I leave j^ou in this lady's care. May God bless
you ! Now don't any of you flUl in love with her,
for she has a husband and children." Everything
was said to cheer the poor sufferers. In a few short
days blood-poison had done its work, and they were
laid to rest. Rebel bullets were poison.
On recovering from my first trial dressing wounds
my nerves were strong, and I washed and dressed
them as quickly as possible, day and night. Always
on leaving a very weak patient I gave him a glass of
428 OUR ARMY NURSES.
brandy or wine, bathed his face and hands in bay
rum, and put a sheet over the stretcher. With tears
in their eyes tliey would thank me, and ask me to go
to see them. I often promised, and meant to go, but
my time was so occupied I could not, though I
sometimes heard from them. They would often
inquire my name and I'esidence, and give me
theirs; but in my haste I kept no list, though I
remembered many a long time. They sometimes
kept a memorandum, so I have no doubt some
have my name now; if not, reading this may
freshen the memory of some one who will remem-
ber me.
I was called to one who said, " I don't want to be
taken to the hospital." "Where are you wounded?"
"In the leg." " Can you lift it?" "No." "I will
send for the surgeon." "Oh no!" he ci'ied; "send
for my brother." So I saw a friend who had her
parlor furniture removed, and he was taken there.
His brother arrived the next day, and the poor
soldier's joy was great at having home attention,
and a dear brother at his side. Soon that brother
had to take his lifeless body to his parents. I also
attended J. Edward Lawrence. He, too, was anxi-
ous to have private care, so a good home place was
secured. He was wounded in the side, and the
doctor had probed, but could not find the ball.
"If that man has any family," he said, "notify
them at once. He cannot live many hours." I
inquired for his wife, and finding out her address,
telegraphed for her. Speedily came the reply.
OUR ARMY NURSES.
429'
"Shall leave immediately." '^Mi-s. Boston, did you
ask the doctor about my case?" he soon inquired;
and I had to tell him his true condition, and that his
Avife was on her way to see him. By the time she
arrived his remains were in the cemetery. I invited
Mrs. Lawrence to Father Boston's, informed the
authorities at West Hospital, secured the necessary
clothes for the burial, and on his left side pinned the
little flag I had worn; another I tacked on the coflin,
so there should be no mistaken identity, and gave
the third to his poor broken-hearted wife, who died
in less than two years.
Oh, how many times I have been called upon for
deeds of mercy! As Mrs. "Wallace and I were
leaving the cemetery, after Mr. Lawrence's body was
put in the vault, a gentleman came to us and said:
"Ladies, I belong in Georgia. This body is my
brother." Then to Mrs. Wallace, "Won't you stand
by the grave to represent my mother?" and to me,
"Won't you come and represent my sister?" So
that brother, the minister, the grave-digger,Mrs.
Wallace and myself stood together a few minutes-
beneath the beautiful trees in the grounds appor-
tioned to the Confederate dead. I can never
forget such scenes, though I forget hundreds of
names.
One of our ladies took her daughter with her, who,
having pricked her finger while pinning a bandage,
contracted blood-poisoning while washing a womid.
The hand was amputated, but to no avail, and she,
died.
430 OUR ARMY NURSES.
I assisted a physician in one severe case. A
soldier had been withont attention for his wonnded
arm for ten days, and it was in a terribly decomposed
condition. As he stood up and I removed the
blanket from his shoulders, the odor was something
terrible. The doctor cut the flesh from the arm and
it fell to the pavement. It soon cleared the crowd
away from in front of the hospital. By standing
beside the doctor I inhaled the full odor, and was
attacked by fainting. The doctor ordered brandy,
but I did not take it. A soldier took my place, and I
went home a very sick person, but soon returned to
my duty, though I continued to feel a stinging sen-
sation in my nose, and it swelled at times. After
all had been removed from the scene of carnage at
Gettysburg, orders came to take the names of the
workers, but it was too late. Some had already gone
home; others did not consider it important, as the
work there was done. Then followed a veiy sick
time for me; my nose and face were a sight! The
doctor attending me said, " You have contracted
blood-poisoning, while dressing wounds, and must
stay away now." ^N^evertheless I went to Patter-
son Park Hospital, and worked there and for the
superintendent in charge. When asked for my
name, to enter on his books, I said : " !No, I do not
want any pay for my services. I only try to do all I
can for the sokliers." " You had better give me
your name," he said; "it may be of use to you some-
time." "iNTo, sir! I don't work for pay or popu-
larit}^, but I am always ready to do anything I can
OUR ARMY NURSES.
431
for a sufferer." So although my name does not
appear on the roll in the War Department, it is
engraved on the memory of hundi-eds of wounded
men who will never forget those trying scenes. And
my prayer is that when the soldiers of the G. A. E,.
shall have their hearts cleansed by the precious blood
of Jesus, when they have taken their last march on
earth, and entered victorious the City of God, that
army nurses, soldiers, their families and friends, may
meet to rest " forever with the Lord."
I am, very respectfully,
Mks. M. J. Boston.
1221 Tatxal Street, Wilmixgtox, Del.
432
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. REBECCA POMROY.
RS. REBECCA R. POMROY, of Chelsea,
Mass., was a woman peculiarly fitted to minis-
ter to the needs of the soldiers during the late
Rebellion. At forty years of age she was lefc
a widow. Her life up to that time had been filled
Avith sorrow, leaving her almost hopeless; when at a
gathering at which she was present, through the
earnest solicitations of her friends, she providentially
met an aged lady who spoke the word that proved
the touch-stone to her life, and she went from the
place with renewed faith.
" Let thy gold be cast in the furnace,
Thy red gold, precious and bright, —
Do not fear the hungry fire,
With its caverns of burning light, —
And thy gold shall return more precious.
Free from every spot and stain ;
For gold must be tried by fire,
As a heart must be tried by pain.
' ' In the cruel fire of sorrow
Cast thy heart ; do not faint or wail :
Let thy hand be firm and steady ;
Do not let thy spirit quail !
But wait till the trial is over,
And take thy heart again ;
For as gold is tried by fire.
So a heart must be tried by pain !
433
434 OUR ARMY NURSES.
I shall know by the gleam and glitter
Of the golden chain you wear,
By your heart's calm strength in loving,
Of the fire they have had to bear.
Beat on, true heart, forever ;
Shine bright, strong, golden chain ;
And bless the cleansing fire.
And the furnace of living pain ! "
Ah! it was indeed a "furnace of pain'' in which
the heart of Mrs. Pomroy had been purified; and now
she had grown cahn and strong. The kind eyes
could look out upon the world once more, and see
God's providences in their true proportions. The
Spirit of the Infinite had met her troubled, world-
weary soul after years of half-rebellious suffering,
and at last she had laid the burden down, and was
willing to face life, — only it must be a more complete
and perfect life of service.
"When the war broke out she had been a widow two
years. One son was all that had been spared to her
by the cruel hand of death, and he soon enlisted. It
was not long before she prayerfully questioned,
"Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" for she felt
that God was calling her to some larger work.
Back upon her soul surged a tide of assurance that
she should go as an army nurse. Knowing how frail
she was, friends and physicians endeavored to per-
suade her not to go; but it was useless. She would
answer, "I want to be a mother to those wounded and
dying soldiers." In September, 1861, she started
alone from Chelsea, Mass.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 435
Upon her arrival in "Washington, Miss Dix went
Avith her to visit the places of interest in and around
tlie city. When they entered the Georgetown Hos-
pital she fonnd that a nurse had become exhausted,
and she decided to leave Mrs. Pomroy to fill the
vacant place; so she assumed charge of a ward con-
taining fifty typhoid patients.
At the close of that first day she found herself
strusrs-ling- a«:ainst such w^eakness that it seemed she
must succumb to it. Excusing herself, she managed
to reach her own room, where she sank upon the
rude cot, and poured out her soul in prayer for
Divine strength and guidance. We cannot but be-
lieve that prayer was answered, for she soon was
able to rise and resume her duties, working part of
the night.
A boy had been in a dying condition for several
hours, and as she bent to give him the last stimulant,
he threw his arms around her neck, crying, " Oh my
dear mother ! " Death sealed that clasj), and it re-
quired two attendants to release her. This, and
other strange experiences, marked her first night in
the service of her country.
In a few days she was transferred to Columbia
College Hospital, where we gleam from one of her
letters that she became familiar with death and suf-
fering, and could pass through all that was required
of her by relying upon the unseen Hand that she felt
fed her with the bread of heaven. Often during the
long nights, she stood alone beside some dying soldier,
soothing and sustaining him in those " last moments,"
436 OUR ARMY NURSES.
SO fraught with awe and sadness. The kind, motherly
heart conld not forget tliose scenes, and many of her
hospital experiences have become familiar household
stories. Perhaps one of the most beautiful is that of
the bugler of the 11th Maine.
The poor fellow had lingered week after week, be-
coming fearfully emaciated. At the very last he
was conscious of his condition, and said to Mrs. Pom-
roy, "Mother, may I have my bugle? " She sent for
it immediately, but his poor, nerveless hands were too
weak to hold it. An attendant, comprehending the
unspoken, yet eloquent appeal, placed it to his lips.
For a moment his face was transformed by some-
thing of the old-time enthusiasm, as he concentrated
all the energy of that wasted frame for the supreme
effort. Tavo or three quivering notes wavered and
died upon the air, then the lifeless hands fell. The
last bugle-call had been sounded!
Mrs. Pomroy was a friend indeed to the soldiers
under her care, and her efforts met a grateful appre-
ciation. But few realize how much we as a nation owe
her for helping to sustain President Lincoln and his
family at a time when that strong man was almost
overcome by the sorrow that shrouded his home.
The burden of the year's war lay so heavily upon his
heart that he seemed almost crushed by the weight.
Then Willie, his second son, died, after a short sick-
ness. Ilis youngest son was expected to die at any
time, and Mrs. Lincoln, too, was very sick. At this
juncture Miss Dix called to see if she could render
any assistance, and he asked her to i-ecommend a
OUR ARMY NURSES. 437
nurse. She selected " Auntie Pomroy," who reluct-
antly left her boys, not realizing what an opportunity
was hers in thus being permitted to learn, as few
others could, the honest, manly fiiith of our great-
hearted President, and at the same time to render the
human sympathy and helj) he so much needed. His
own words, and the strong friendship he ever after-
wards manifested toward her, show how grateful to
him were her ministrations.
"While she was still a member of the President's
family, two young ladies offered to assist her in
carrying on a prayer meeting in her ward. The
officers in the hospital were mostly Catholics, and her
first venture in that line had been followed by strict
orders that it should not be repeated. Now she
obtained the President's permission, and by the aid of
the Misses Pumsey and Mr. Fowle of the Soldiers'
Free Library, the meeting was established.
At last she returned to her boys; but the sym-
pathetic relations between her and the President's
family could not be lightly set aside, and she was a
frequent visitor at the White House. During one of
these visits Mr. Lincoln said he wished to do some-
thing for her very much, and urged her to be per-
fectly frank and tell him what she wanted most.
She was surprised by so generous an offer, and could
not think of any personal wants; but like an inspira-
tion came the thought of his visiting her patients at
the hospital, and she proffered that simple request,
which he gladly granted, to the great delight of the
boys, whose enthusiasm knew no bounds. She said
i38 OUR ARMY NURSES.
that one poor fellow refused for days to wash the
hand that had grasped the President's.
It was characteristic of Mrs. Pomroy that she sent
to the kitchen for the colored help, as she wanted all
to share in this happy reception. They stood by her
side as Mr. Lincoln was passing ont. " And who
are these?" he asked. "This is Lucy, formerly a
slave in Kentucky. She cooks the imrses' food ; " and
Lucy received the same w^arin hand-clasp that had
been given to others. "And these?" "This is
Garner, and this Brown. They are serving their
country by cooking the low diet." Their radiant
faces attested their appreciation of the greeting they
received. When he had gone, Mrs. Pomroy was
severely criticised for introducing " niggers " to the
President. So much was said that she felt saddened,
though firm in her convictions of right; but the
gratitude of the colored people did much toward
healing the sting of the sharp words, " Lub ye,
missus, long as 3^e lib ! IS^ebber spec such a t'ing."
At her next visit to the White House she asked the
President if his feelings were hurt by being intro-
duced to the colored help. "Hurt? ^o, indeed!
It did my soul good. I'm glad to do them honor,"
was the hearty rej^onse. Later, when Mrs. Lincoln
was severely injured during an accident to the
carriage, caused by some enemy, he went for Mrs.
Pomroy at once, and for three weeks she watched
by her bed.
Then came a time when the President expected to
be attacked personally any day. When the news
OUR ARMY NURSES. 439
came of the battle of Port Hudson, he walked the
floor in an agony of distress, saying : " The Lord
have mercy on those poor fellows. This is a
righteous war, and God will protect the right.
Many lives will be sacrificed on both sides, but I
have done the best I could, trusting in Grod." " Mr.
Lincoln," she answered, "prayer will do what nothing-
else will ; can you not pray? " The tears were drop-
ping over that worn face as he said, " Yes ; I will.
Pray for me, too ; " and he went to his room.
At midnight a messenger rode rapidly toward the
White House with a telegram. Mrs. Pomroy was
sitting in the sick-room when the Pi*esident entered,
crying: " Good nevs, good news! Port Hudson is
ours! God is ^ood!" Mrs. Pomroy answered,
" There is nothing like prayer in times of need."
"Yes, oh yes! But praise, too; for prayer and
praise go together."
Occasionally a rebel would fall to her care; but
she confessed to an inability to feel toward them as
she did toward Union men. One who had been in
her ward some days asked if he might call her
" Mother," as the other men did. " I^o," was her
reply ; " not while you are cherishing rebellion in
your heart." She spoke with him on the subject
from time to time, and he took the oath of allegiance
before leaving the hospital.
She served three years and seven months, then re-
ceived an honorable discharge, April 1, 1865; and as
she went to seek to regain her health after a serious
illness, she wrote to a friend thus : —
440
OUR ARMY NURSES.
'^ Taking all things, I have passed through ti'ying
exjDeriences, but this morning the sun shines just as
bright as ever. God is still good to us, and may
it never be in my heart to complain or murmur while
my experience is so full of God's unbounded love."
442
OUR ARMY NURSES.
SOPHRONIA E. BRECKLIN.
Q]S^ the 17th of September, 1862, I started, unat-
tended, for the seat of war, and three days
later arrived at the front. The order given
by my commander, Miss D. L, Dix, was await-
ing me, so I was immediately taken to the Judiciary
Hospital, on Four and a Hay Street, and my labor as
an army nurse began.
After three months' service I was ordered to the
Baptist Church, where I took care of a sick nurse
and her ward for a month ; then was sent to Point
Lookout, at the entrance to Chesapeake Bay, where
I remained all through that cold, dreary winter, with-
out fire, caring for wounded men brought from
Fredericksburg, from Bull Run, and from Antietam.
Oh, what suffering, what heroic courage for this
lovely country of ours ! ]N^o language can describe it !
In March I was sent to Alexandria, Ya., and
remained there until the battle of Gettysburg; there
I was the first nurse in the field hospital, and Miss
Plummer and myself were the last to leave.
From there I went to Stoneman's Cavalry Hos-
pital, six miles from Washington, D. C, where I
remained seven or eight months. In the winter of
1863 and 1861: 1 had the fever, and a council of the
hospital surgeons gave me up to die; but my work
was not yet done. After recovering sufficiently I
was sent to Whitehouse, to care for the wounded
444
OUR AR]\n NURSES.
brought from Cold Harbor, and i-emained there
until the army swung round in front of Peters-
burg. Then we went to City Point, and five
months later to the Point of Rocks, and were there
when Petersburg was taken and General Lee sur-
rendered; remaining until our beloved Lincoln was
assassinated. Then, and not till then, could I get
my own consent to return to the home I had left
nearly three years before. I could not leave my
post while there was one of my country's noble-
men to claim my care.
SoPHKOXiA E. Brecklin.
Cor. of Tioga and Fall Streets,
Ithaca, N. Y.
446
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ELIZABETH A. HYATT.
JN 1861 my husband enlisted at Chilton, Wis., in
Co. K, 4th Regiment, Wisconsin Volnnteers,
and joined the other companies at Racine in
June. I went to bid my husband good-bye
before he marched to Dixie, and found plenty of
work there to do in camp and hospital. Some of
my neighbors were sick, and I did not wait for an
invitation, but cooked, nursed, and did whatever I
saw to do rmtil the regiment received orders to go
South; then packed my grip to go home. But when
I went to bid the doctor good-bye, he said: "O no,
Mrs. Hyatt; you can't go. Don't think of such a
thing. You are just the kind of a woman we need."
He asked me to walk over to see the colonel with
him. The matter was soon decided, and I went to
Baltimore with them. I then received a certificate,
and served in Patterson Park Hospital, in Ward 11,
where I had twenty-two soldiers under my charge.
When General Dix and General Wool exchanged
places, General Wool went to Baltimore, and Gen-
eral Dix to Fortress Monroe ; so Fort McHenry was
firing salute after salute. In Ward 12 was a nurse
who roomed with me. She was one of the blue kind,
always down-hearted, with never a smile on her face;
always expecting trouble. Well, she went over to
our room and neglected to call for me, so I thought
I would go to her ward and cheer her boys a bit. I
447
448 OUR ARMY NURSES.
went in and looked aronnd, just as if I expected to
find her there. Then I said: ^^ Boys, do you know
what that firing means? Has your nurse told you?"
"]^o; she never tells us anything. What is it?"
" Why, Jeff Davis is captured, the South is whipped,
peace is declared, and the war is over; so every man
who is well enough to travel, will be on his way
home as soon as he can pack his knapsack. So,
boys, hurrah for home and loved ones!" Such a
shout as went up! The ward-master came to see
what was the matter. I told him I thought I would
go in and cheer them up a little. He said, "Well, I
think you have done it with a vengeance, by the looks
of the room." They had thrown their bedclothes,
knapsacks, boots and pillows around, and what a
looking place it was! I ran down and told my
boys all about it, and they had a hearty laugh.
The nurse had heard the noise, and knew some-
thing wrong was going on in her ward, so
hurried back; and what a sight she beheld. It
took her two hours to straighten things around in
order. She came to see me with such a sad face, but
found Ko. 11 a very cheerful place, — every man was
smiling. She said, " Mrs. Hyatt, I will pay you for
this." I assured her that she did not owe me any-
thing; that I would do it any time, as it was not one
bit of trouble, and it would do them lots of good.
After this I accompanied the regiment for a time ;
but when it was ordered to Ship Island, I concluded
to return to Patterson Park Hospital. I left the
" Constitution " at Fortress Monroe, saw the fight be-
OUR ARMY NURSES. 449
tween the "Monitor" and the ■'Merrimae,'' then went
to Baltimore, where I resumed charge of AVard 11,
in March, 1862. In August I went to Virginia, to
try to see my brother. While passing Mt. Vernon
the bell tolled; the gentlemen raised their hats, and
all talking ceased. I went to AYarrington, and ate
supper with rebel guards. The next day I dined
with Union officers, and there was not a rebel to be
found in the place.
I started for Fairfax Court House, but the rail-
road was torn up, so I called on General Banks for
a horse. He sent one to me, and as I could ride
very well I soon reached Centerville, where the
battle had been fought. Here I found Colonel
Andrews with ambulances, but many of the drivers
had left the teams to go on the field. I tried to
cany water to the wounded, but I felt so sick that
I was about to leave the place, when Colonel
Andrews asked me if I could drive a team.
AYhen I assured him that I could, he asked me to
drive an ambulance to Fairfax Court House. There
were four wounded men, and before I started,
another, slightly wounded on the head, begged to
go too. So I had him strapped on the seat. The
road was smooth, and I told the men if they could
bear it to let me trot the horses forty minutes, I
could pass the long train, avoid the dust, and
could have them unloaded before the others arrived
and took the most comfortal)le places. They told
me to drive on.
I turned out and cracked the whip. The horses
450 OUR ARMY NURSES.
started on a good round ti'ot. Every ambulance I
passed, the driver would call to me to stop trotting
and drive slowly, or I would kill the men. I ]3aid no
attention until one called me a " Secesh."' Tlien I
told the man who was strapped on the seat to call
them something. He did, and shaking his list, told
them to keep still or they would smell powTler.
When I had left the train a mile behind I halted,
and gave the men a driuk. I cheered them what I
could, telling them I would a'o to AVashiniifton and
try to get them fui'loughs to go home, then drove on.
When the men w^ere comfortably settled and fed, I
started on the return, and soon met the train. The
drivers called to know how I got through, so f(^r fun
I told them I hadn't a live man left. Hoav they did
swear, and call me a rebel. I made no reply, for I
was in a hurry to get another load. They apologized
wdien they found I was the 4:th "Wisconsin woman.
They said they had talked with the men, who enjoyed
the ride, and were ver}^ glad I was plucky enough to
keep on.
I called on the Provost Marshal for a place to
sleep. He sent me to a room on the second floor,
where there were three telegraph operators. I par-
titioned off a room with a long table in it, then asked
if there were no other women to occupy that big
place with me. He sent for one, and I soon went to
sleep.
The next day I went to Washington with the sick
men, but could not procure furloughs. Then I
returned to my twenty-two boys in Ward 11.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 451
They were very g'lad to see me, and liegged me
not to go away again. They said it was lonesome,
and no one tokl them any news. I remained there
until December, 18G2.
Ah, how many sad things hapjiened!
One night at six o'clock I left one of my boys ever
so much better than he had been. The next morn-
ing a man met me with the news that Willie was
dead. I went to the dead-house to see him. A
doctor was thei'e, who told me the l)oy was poi-
soned. A soldier in the ward said that a woman
came in with chocolate, and that Willie drank a
cupful, but none of the rest would. I felt very
badly. That was the only death \\\ my ward.
I nursed the soldiers carefully, cheered them nil
I could, and would see that they had plenty of good
food, even if I had to jnit my hand in my own
pocket to pay for it.
Elizabeth A. Hyatt.
NoKTuviLLE, Wayne Co., Mich.
452
OUR ARMY NURSES.
KATE M. DUNCAN.
J SERVED one year at Patterson Park Hospital,
Baltimore, Md., beginning in September, 1862.
My husband was wonnded in tlie neck and went
home. He was sick eighteen months; then I
went with him wlien he returned to duty. The first
six weeks I nnrsed in Ward 15. They had seventy
men, — the worst cases of typhoid fever. I sat up
every other night, gave medicine, washed and fed
the patients, etc. Doctor Knowles did not hke
women, and ahhough the surgeon in charge put
me there, he did not use me very well for a time.
But he soon trusted me to give medicine and see to
everything, and made me sit up nights, because he
would not trust the male nurses. This was too hard
for me, and the surgeon changed me to Ward 1 of
snrgical cases. Autand was the name of the French
surgeon who had charge of that ward. His Avatch-
chain was hung with medals from the Crimean War.
He had me assist him on his morning rounds, dress-
ing wounds, and did not think anything was too bad
for me to see. I had to dress four cases, each with
an amputated arm, one wounded through the neck,
two through the hip, and one who was wounded nine
times, in the lungs and different parts of the lx)dy;
yet he recovered, and went home at last.
I was there when the battle of Gettysbnrg was
fought, and did not have my clothes off for a week
after the Avounded began to arrive.
Emmetsburg, Iowa. KaTE M. DuXCAX.
4o3
454
OUR ARMY NURSES.
ADELAIDE E. SPUKGEON.
ALMOST before the echoes of the gun which
marked the commencement of hostihties
between the North and the Sonth had died
away, Hon. Henry J. Raymond, of the 'New
York Times, with that keen foresight which marked
his career as a newspaper man, had formed the idea
of organizing a band of hidies to proceed to Wash-
ington to act in tlie capacity of nurses, should they
be needed. Several meetings were held, either at
the Cooper Institute or the Woman's Library, under
the auspices of Miss Elizabeth Powell, who was
selected for this purpose by Mr. Raymond.
At the final meeting, many of those who were
confidently expected to go, declined; their enthus-
iasm, which had worked itself to fever heat at the
commencement, having died out, and they decided to
remain with the "home guard." Six names were
called as they had been selected, and when my
own, Adelaide E. Thompson, was pronounced and
I arose (I being very slightly built at that time), a
gentleman in the hall inquired what she expected to
do with that little creature; to which Miss Powell
responded, " That ' little creature ' is one of the reli-
ables."
On the morning of May 3, 1861, we boarded the
train at Jersey City. It was loaded with troops on
their way to defend the flag. Our progress was very
456 OUR ARMY NURSES.
slow. At Havre de Grace V\ e embarked on board a
steamer for Baltimore, thinking to hasten onr jonrney
in this way, as it was expected the train wonld be
detained some time at that place. I shall never
forget that journey. The boat, which was small,
was crowded with the roughest class of citizens of
" Maryland, my Maryland," whose sole amusement
was playing cards, expectorating huge streams of
tobacco juice, and cursing the Yankees.
A terrible storm came up, and, to make it more
interesting, all of our party except two were affected
with that ailment which must be felt in order to be
fully appreciated; viz., seasickness. One other lady
and myself escaped, and we w ere obliged to leave the
close, dirty little cabin every few moments, to obtain
a breath of fresh air; preferring to be drenched by
the spray which washed over the deck, to being
stifled by tobacco smoke.
On the evening of the third day we reached Bal-
timore, and proceeded to Barnum's Hotel, where
every attention was paid to us; as the i-ails, which
had been torn up during the riot when the Massa-
chusetts troops passed through Baltimore, had not
yet been relaid. The next morning an omnibus was
chartered, and at about sundo\\m on the evening of
our fourth day from ^NTew York, dirty and weary, we
reached the Mecca of our hopes, Washington, then,
comparatively speaking, a mud-hole, but now trans-
formed by Xorthern enterprise and industry into one
of the most l^eautiful cities in the -world.
AVe took apartments at the Kirkwood House,
OUR ARMY NURSES. 457
remaining there three days, and then removed to
a boarding-honse kept by Miss Bull, a daugh-
ter of Judge Bull, located on Twelfth, be-
tween E and F Streets. But here a new
trouble arose. Our baggage was somewhere be-
tw^een Washington and ^ew York, but just
where no one could tell; and all inquiries, both
verbal and by telegraph, failed to solve the mys-
tery. After all this travel we were with abso-
lutely nothing except what VvC stood in; but at
this crisis a good genius appeared, in the person of
E. Z. C. Judson, better known as "Ned Buntline."
I had knoAvn him in ]N^eAV York, and learning that I
was in the city, he had searched me out.
I must here say that some years before, when he
was imprisoned on Blackwell's Island, for alleged
complicity in the Astor House riots, I assisted him
in hauling up the Stars and Stripes to the top of the
boat-house, having been invited over there by him
for that purpose. I sometimes think that people love
the old Flag better since they have had to fight for it.
Mr. Judson succeeded in unearthing the baggage,
and Ave were enabled once more to indorse the decla-
ration that " cleanliness is next to godliness."
Our leader, Miss Pow^ell, then started out on a
tour of inspection. The Union Hotel, in Georgetown,
was being fitted up as a hospital, but was not yet
ready to receive patients. The surgeon-general
finally informed her that there was only one hos-
j)ital open in the city, and that was the small-pox
hospital; and as they could get no one to go there, a
458 OUR ARMY NURSES.
nurse Avas badly needed. Miss Powell returned
almost in despair. She related the situation to the
ladies, but no one responded. One pretty little
woman, the youngest of the party, whose husband
was here in one of the regiments, declared she could
not think of such a thing, for if she took the disease
and got her face all marked up, her husband would
never forgive her. It is but justice to say that she
proved herself very efficient in another place. The
oldest lady said she could not think of such a thing,
for she had not felt well since she left New York,
and she only felt able to read the Bible; and the
poor fellows must be so sick that reading would only
weary them. The others being of the opinion that
" silence is golden," remained silent. To me, any-
thing was better than inaction, and I volunteered
my services. They all endeavored to point out to
me the risk I w as running, and the hard work before
me; but I was firm, and after a mournful dinner with
my comrades' I took my little bundle of clothing, and,
accompanied by one of the ladies, departed for the
hospital. My friend bade me good-bye on the oppo-
site side of the street, and with some little trepidation
I crossed over and entered the building. I was met
by the physician. Dr. Kobert I. Thomas, from Iowa.
I handed him the letter from the surgeon-general,
appointing me a nurse in the small-pox hospital ; and
thus as the first nurse in the District of Columbia, on
the 1 6th day of May I entered upon my duties.
The hospital was a small two-story and basement
brick building, located on First Street east, between
OUR ARMY NURSES. 459
B and C north. It contained six rooms and a
niediuni-sizcd closet, which was fitted up as a sort of
dispensary. Tlie front basement was used as a
dining-room for the steward, a rattle-brained South-
erner, who had taken the place as he had nothing-
else to do. The doctor remained but a few hours
daily, and as soon as he left, the steward generally
started for the city, and returned somewhere in the
small hours, grossly intoxicated. The only other
inmates who were able to walk around were an Irish
woman, who pretended to wash the clothing, and
another to cook. The cookins: and washing: were
both carried on in one room, by means of a small
stove, which one of our Yankee housewives would
have considered fit only for old iron.
Fortunately there was not much to cook. I say
fortunately, because the old woman could not be
persuaded that sick men did not like greasy food,
or that broth would be more palatable without the
huge piece of fat bacon which, in spite of all my
remonstrances, she would persist in putting into
the kettle. But one day the doctor happened in
when the boys were being fed, and saw them put-
ting the greater part of their soup into the cuspidors.
He called her up, and in terms more emphatic than
polite, informed her that if he saw any more such
cooking he would throw it out of the door, and then
throw her after it. This was too much for the old
lady, and she stood out upon the order of going, but
finally went.
My first move after her departure was to consign
460 OUR ARMY NURSES.
the laundry work to the stable, at the back of the
yard. We had ])lenty of flour, and I proceeded to
make up a large Ijatch of bread, which was greatly
relished by the boys; but as- to the meat, — here
words fail me. Never before, or since, have I
seen such meat. It would have required the power
of a Hercules to masticate it. The sugar was of the
consistency of mud, and about the same color, and
tasted more like salt than sugar. Butter was not
to be thought of, and vegetables of any kind were out
of the question. No dishes; nothing but tin cups
and tin plates, and so few of them that the food of
two or three men had to be served u]3 on one plate.
There was no money. No hosjDital fund had accu-
mulated, and the entire building was the picture of
misery, with nothing to make the boys comfortable.
Of course nothing could be done. For about ten
days I did the cooking, in addition to my other
duties. At the end of that time our old cook,
whose injured dignity Avas somewhat more serene,
decided to come back, and leave the bacon out of
the soup, — as the doctor hinted that he might place
her under arrest if the offense w^as repeated.
At this time I determined to take a trip to New
York, and get conti'ibutions from my friends. I
accordingly applied to Judge Holt, who referred me
to Hon. Edwin M. Stanton; who, in turn, gave me a
note to General Mansfield. With some nervousness
I stood before the old general at his headquarters on
17th Street. He looked up from a desk at which he
was writing, and said in a sharp tone, "Well?" I
OUR ARMY NURSES. 461
handed him the note from Mr. Stanton, and at the
same time said, " General, I want to get a pass to go
to ^ew York." '^ What do j^ou want to go to Xew
York for? " '^ To get some things for the boys."
" What boys? " " The boys in the small-pox hospi-
tal." "Are you the nurse there? " "Yes, sir." " Get
paid?" "IN'o, sir." "Volunteer nurse?" ''Yes,
sir." ''Afraid of taking the disease?" '^^o, sir."
He wrote a few lines, which he handed me, remark-
ing: " AYell, you are a plucky little woman. Here is
your pass, good for three days, and you ought to
ride over any railroad in the country free of charge
as long as you live." He shook me by the hand,
and said, " Good-bye; don't forget to come back to
the boys." That night, with a large, empty trunk, I
started for ;N"ew York. The train was filled with
soldiers going home; some discharged for disability,
some returning from sickness ; one poor boy, crazy
from fever, declaring that he could whip the whole
Southern army, individually or collectively, if he
was given half a chance. I returned in three days,
my ti-unk well filled with needed articles; also a large
box, and a bottle of powerful disinfectants prepared
for me by Mr. Green.
I found many additions to our number on return-
ing. As the doctor did not come I placed a cot in
a corner of his office, where I could obtain two or
three hours' sleep during the night. I have passed
many nights entirely alone in the building, except for
the sick men; sometimes three or four bodies lay in
the adjoining room, waiting for the morning light to
462 OUR ARMY NURSES.
bring the undertaker. The first man died from
blood-poison, caused by impure vaccine put in his
arm before he left Michigan. The weather was
warm, and before his comrades arrived to bur}^ him,
the body burst. We Avei'e obliged to remove all the
sick men to a tent in the adjoining lot, while the
house was flooded with water. Every train that
came in brought more ; and as they came pouring in
after the first battle of Bull Run, we were obliged to
take another house a short distance away. A large
mansion was secured on what is now known as
AYashington Heights. One of the convalescent
patients volunteered his assistance, and we were
constantly alternating between the two houses.
It is impossible to describe the horrors of that long,
hot summer. There was no Potomac water in the
city at that time, and the pump near the house would
become dry every few days. Then a new difficulty
arose. The authorities refused to allow any more
bodies to be buried in Potter's Field, as they were
fearful of spreading the contagion. Three coffins
were placed on trestles some distance from the
house, where they remained a day and 2)art of the
next night. Some colored men were then hired to
carry them over into a gully, and one of our hosj^ital
men held a lantern wdiile the graves were dug; and
there amid the silence and darkness of midnight they
were laid to rest. I believe some arrangement was
made later by which they could again be buried in
Potter's Field.
I do not know the date of oui' removal, as I paid
OUR ARMY NURSES.
463
110 attention to anything bnt the wants of the sick,
beheving in the Scripture injunction, '^Whatsoever
thy hand fincleth to do, do it with thy might." Time
passed unnoticed, and I never supposed any of those
things would be noticed, except by the i-ecordino-
angel. '^
The same old laundry woman moved with ns into
our new home, and died at her post from overwork;
but the cook was replaced by a man.
At last I broke down, and contracted blood-poison-
ing, from which I have never fully recovered. The
doctoi- ordered my removal, as it was impossible for
me to be any better while I remained in that
])oisoned atmosphere. I went to the home of a
friend, and commenced a course of arsenical treat-
ment, which gave me gi-eat i-elief. I still held my
commission as a nurse, and was sent for repeatedly,
but the medical director thought it unsafe in the
diseased condition of my blood; so I reluctantly
abandoned the vocation I loved so well.
I then entered the secret service at the provost
marshal's headquarters. I was sent for one day by
the judge advocate, who wished me to interview
two parties who had been taken out of the ranks as
a regiment was mai-ching up the avenue. I went
into a back room, where I saw two boyish-lookino-
persons in uniform. *
After a short conversation they owned up to beino-
of the gentler sex; but the deception was perfect.
One was the wife of one of the men, and the other
Mas engaged to one. They had traveled hundreds
464 OUR ARMY NURSES.
of miles with the regiment, and would probably have
gone to the front but for the rascally behavior of
one of the lieutenants, wdio was in the secret. He
offered some insult to the young wdfe, which she re-
sented, and in a spirit of revenge he signaled the
provost guard, and had them taken out of the ranks.
They both wept bitterly, not only at the disgrace,
but at being obliged to return to their homes, leaving
their loved ones, perhaps never to meet them again.
AVith some difficulty clothing w^as procured, and
they wei'e sent home very much wiser women than
when they left.
I have not space to recount all of my adventures
while I was in the service ; wdierever I w\as requested
to go I went. Once I managed to get into the Old
Capitol Prison, l^y order of a stripling army officer,
but was promjjtly released on his being told by the
judge ad\'ocate that I was entitled to enter any place
of confinement in the discharge of duty. I kept no
dates, but was given credit on my papers for two
years.
Before closing I will relate a little incident, one of
the laughable things which occurred among so many
sad scenes. One day I went into the Central Guard
House, to identify some of our boys who had over-
stayed their passes and been arrested as deserters.
While there six Zouaves, who were the terror of the
city, were brought in for some breach of discipline,
and ordered to be shower-bathed. !N^ow, this shoAver-
bath was no light punishment, the hose being about
the size of the ordinary street hose.
OUR ARMY NURSES.
465
A yonng lieutenant, who was sti'utting about in
all the dignity of a new uniform and untarnished
shoulder-straps, said he was going to see the lun.
In about ten minutes he came out thoroughly
drenched, and the most demoralized-looking man to
be found. The Zouaves had overix)wered the guard,
and turned the hose on the lieutenant. He had seen
the fun to his heart's content.
In conclusion, I will state that my eldest brother
responded to the first call for troops at Kew Haven,
Conn., WT-nt through the war until the army dis-
banded, but died of consumption shortly after. Two
sisters, one having two little children, the other a
bride of a few months, bade their husbands God-
speed, and never saw them again; while my fair-
haired ''baby brother," as we called him at home,
died from a disease contracted from infected clothing
at Kewbern. They will all sleep sweetly in South-
ern soil, with thousands of others, until the Great
Commander shall order the last roll-call, and the
grand army of this famous Republic shall hear from
His lips the welcome words, ^^Well done, good and
faithful servants."
Adelaide E. Spurgeon.
42 H Street, N. E., WashinCxTON, D. C.
466
OUR ARMY NURSES.
~ --afap
MRS. FANNY H. TITUS -HAZEN.
6i Oxford Stkeet, Camuridge, Mass.
J WAS born in Vershire, Vermont, Maj 9,
1840. Lenox Titus, my great-grandfather,
was a soldier in the Revolutionary War.
At the outbreak of the Rebellion, in 1861,
when the whole country was alive with patriotism,
it seemed the greatest misfortune of my life that I
was born a girl. My eldest brother, then only seven-
teen, enlisted in the -1th Yermont Infantry. I went
home to bid him ^' good-bye " and " God bless you."
The people of the town gathered in the town hall
to receive their citizen soldiers on the eveninof
before the departure of Company K, to join the
4th Regiment.
As the boys in blue marched through the hall, I
would have given years of my life could I have
taken a place in the ranks with my brother.
Two 3^ears later, in 1863, two younger brothers,
one eighteen, the other not seventeen, enlisted. I
could not rest; it seemed that I 7nust go to help care
for the brave defenders of our country's flag.
I went to both Sanitary and Christian Commissions
to go as nurse under their auspices, but the answer
was the same, "You are too young." I also went
to Doctor Hayward, in Hayward Place, Boston, who
sent nurses to Miss Dix. He also said: "You are
too young; it wall be of no use to send you. Miss
Dix Avould send you right back."
Believing if the wish of my heart was ever accom-
407
468 OL'R ARMY NURSES.
plishecl, I should have to do it independently, I
decided to go to Washington, and was soon ready.
Thinking letters of reference might be of service to
me, I received one from Rev. George H. Hepworth,
pastor of the Chnrch of the Unity, West Kewton
Street, Boston (whose church I attended) ; also one
from Doctor Steadman and from Doctor Willard.
Thus equipj^ed I went to Washington, the last
of March, 1864. I called on Surgeon- General
Hammond, who told me it would be of no use to
go to Miss Dix, but if any sui'geon in charge of a
hospital would give me a position as nurse, he would
indorse my name, which would place me on record
as a regularly enrolled army nurse.
First of all I visited Armory Square HosjDital, in
charge of Doctor Bliss. He would give me a ward
as soon as the new barracks were built, each ward
then having a nurse. Doctor Bliss sent me to Doctor
Caldwell's, on the " Island," where Sanitary Commis-
sion people, army nurses, mothers, and wives of
soldiers could remain a short time free of expense.
I remained at Doctor CaldwelFs two weeks.
During this time I had an opportunity to go to the
Demar (officers) Hospital; also to work in the linen
rooms of several hospitals. The surgeons would tell
me, " Miss Dix is the proper person for you to go to,
but it will be of no use ; you are too young." How-
ever, I went to Miss Dix; she received me kindly.
I spoke of my brothers, — the eldest had given his life
for his country, the other two were with the Vermont
Brigade in Virginia ; that I, too, was most anxious to
OUR ARMY NURSES. 469
serve my country by caring for the sick and wounded
soldiers; told her my age, regretting that I was not
older, and gave her the letters of reference.
She inquired where I was stopping, how much bag-
gage I had, etc. I said, "A large and a small valise.''
She commended the good sense evinced in taking so
little baggage, and said: "Child, I shall not say no,
though it is entirely against my rules to take any one
so young. I believe your heart is in the work, and
that I can trust you. I shall send my ambulance
to-morrow morning, at ten o'clock, to take you to
Columbian Hospital, there to remain in quarters till I
send you to Annapolis. In the meantime you will
be under the training of Miss Burghardt. I have so
instructed Major Crosby." (She wrote while she was
talking.)
April 19, 1864, I went in Miss Dix's ambulance
to Columbian Hospital, Fourteenth Street, Washing-
ton, in charge of Dr. Thomas R. Crosby, formerly
professor of surgery in Dartmouth College. Doctor
Crosby asked me to take charge of the linen room;
but nothing less than active work in a hospital ward
would satisfy me.
Miss Burghardt needed rest; a furlough was
granted, leaving me to care for her ward. The
ward surgeon, Dr. F. E. Marsh, of Michigan, will
ever be remembered, not only by the nurses, but by
all the boys who knew him; so l^right, cheerful and
breezy, his coming was like sunshine: just a walk
through the ward would make the boys feel better.
Doctor Crosby, in the meantime, requested Miss
470 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Dix to let me remain at CoUmibian, and on Miss
Bnrghardt's retnrn gave me "Ward 2, left vacant
by the resignation of Mrs. Knssell, Avhere I remained
till Jnne 27, 1865, when the hospital was closed.
My experience through that dreadful summer of
186^ cannot find expression in words. The hospital
was filled in May with wounded f r(^m the AYilderness ;
then came the battle at Spottsylvania, and June 1st
the battle of Cold Harbor. From the latter battle-
field my youngest brother was brought to my ward.
At the time I was so rejoiced to see him alive, I did
not feel sorry that he had been wounded.
After each arrival from the front, all who could be
moved were transferred to hospitals more remote, to
make room for the next arrival from the battlefields;
till at last the wards were filled with very 1)adly
wounded men, some soon crossing to the other
shore, others lingering for uiontlis, suffering untold
agonies, ere the longed-for rest came; still others
lived to carry, through life crippled bodies. Many
were the letters written for those unable to write
to the dear mother, father, brother, sister, or sweet-
heart, and many the letters received witli thanks fi-om
the absent fi'iends.
The bodies of some were sent home for burial. I
never failed to place by the heart of each silent
soldier a bouquet of the florist's choicest flowers
that the dear mother might feel assured that an
earnest, sympathetic heart had ministered to her
son. One young boy, from the Pennsylvania
" Biicktails," was shot through the left lung at
OUR ARMY NURSES. 471
Spottsylvania. He lived foni- months. The bulle-
tins of President Garfield's sufferings were the
exact counterpart of Eddie Mullan's. I often
spoke of it during the dreary days of watching
and praying for the restoration to health of our
beloved President. Eddie Mullan had a most
lieautiful and noble face; visitors passing through
the hospital would stoop and kiss his fair forehead,
saying, " For your mother."
During the summer, June, July, August and Sep-
tember, our heads, hands, and hearts were taxed to
the utmost; so much to do, so many claiming our
sympathy, so many to tell that soon they must
answer the last bugle call, and cross to the beau-
tiful shore. Then it was I realized how utterly
insignificant were all my greatest efforts. I seemed
like an atom, or drop of water; ten pair of hands
could not do what one pair would willingly have
done. Telling one l)oy that he could never go
home, he said: "Why? I shall get well." I
asked, " Would you be afraid to die '? " He hesi-
tated, then said, '^ Yes ; " in a moment, " No. Does
Doctor Marsh say I can't get well ? " I answered,
"Yes." "Please pray for me." I knelt by his cot
and prayed with him; he became reconciled. In
the morning he called Doctor Marsh, saying, "O
doctor, Miss Titus told me I could never get w^ell,
and prayed with me just as my sister would! " Every
night for the three weeks that he lived I knelt by his
cot and prayed. There were many deaths at this
time, ea?h one as the last hours came, saying, " O
472 OUR ARMY NURSES.
please, Miss Titus, stay with me ; it will be but a short
time ; " and, " You seem so like a sister ! "
So, hour after hour, through those nights of death,
I watched the life-light flicker and die of many noble
men whose lives were a sacrifice for their country.
Weeks seemed months, and months like years, that
ages had passed since my hospital w ork commenced ;
and yet the day was not long enough to finish all
one would like to do. Later we had our bright days,
too, when wit and song prevailed, and occasionally
had time to make (as the boys said) " pies and other
things like what we had at home." The boys would
bring the tables from the rooms, placing them end to
end through the hall, making a long table, where all
the men able to leave their beds sat down to a home-
like meal.
In the spring of 1865 we had a boy. Sergeant Eli
Hudson, of Sheshequin, Penn., a veteran volunteer,
having served over four years, who was wounded in
the left knee.. He had been several months in the
ward. The surgeons had held many examinations;
he was failing rapidly ; could not retain anything, even
cold water causing hemorrhage of the stomach. One
morning I asked, "What is the verdict, doctor?"
He replied, " He can live but a few^ days at longest,
and may die in a few hours." " Then, doctor, please
let him have what he wants while he does live." "I
give him into your hands. Miss Titus ; do what you
please for him." The bandages were at once
removed, as he had complained that they were
uncomfortable. As soon as the patients were all
OUR ARMY NURSES. 473
cared for, I went to a market garden and bought
a head of cabbage. He had often said he wanted
something green, if only '^boiled grass." When the
cabbage was cooked I carried him some with cider
vinegar, and fed him.
He ate all on the plate, asked for more, which was
brought, and still a third and fourth plate, till he ate
the whole cabbage. From that dinner in May he
began to improve, and the 14th day of June I
started with Sergeant Hudson on a stretcher for his
home in Sheshequin, Penn., as his life even then
dejDended ujDon his diet, and such meals as he ate
would make a well man sick. He recovered, but
had a stiff knee.
In the winter of 1865 we had but feAV wounded
men, and the hospital was filled with sick men from
Point Lookout.
We needed lemons, cordials, farina, arrowroot,
corn-starch, jellies, in fact everything, for the sick
list had nearly every disease. The demand was such
throughout all the hospitals that the Sanitary and
Christian Commissions' supplies were exhausted.
Pemembering what Rev. Mr. Hepworth said, " If
ever you need hospital supplies, let Mrs. Bird,
chairman of the Aid Society, know what is needed,
and we will send direct to you." I wrote Mrs.
Bird, who received my letter Saturday evening, and it
was read in church Sunday morning. Before night
three (3) large boxes were filled and started for
Washington, containing $300 (three hundred dollars)
worth of supplies ; enough not only for my boys, but
474 OUR ARMY NURSES.
for all the wards of Columbian Hospital. The Aid
Society also sent beautiful flannel shirts, socks,
towels, and everything to fit out all my boys when
able to return to the front: a mother could not more
carefully have provided for a son. The girls of the
Everett School, Boston, sent two barrels of books,
throngh one of the teachers, Mrs. Emma F. W. Titus ;
many of them new publications, })urchased expressly
for the soldiers. After the close of the war the
books were given to the chaplain in charge of the
Freedman's Camp, as a nucleus for a lil)rary.
Friends in Lawrence sent all the popular periodi-
cals and magazines; also several leading weeklies.
They were eagerly welcomed by the boys, and
passed on from ward to ward.
Miss Dix visited the hospital every month, calling
all the nnrses to meet her in the matron's room. She
always came for me, saying: "Child, go qnickly as
possible; tell the nurses I wish to see them without
delay." She was kind and thonghtfnl for all, but
very strict in enforcing all her rules and regulations.
She never wasted a minute, and had no patience with
those who were slow. I shall ever remember Miss
Dix with the warmest love and gratitnde, and with
the greatest reverence decorate her grave in Mount
Anbnrn every Memorial Day. My hospital memories
are among the most pleasant of my life, — pleasant
in that I was doing what the Master would approve :
" Inasmuch as ye did it nnto one of the least of
these, ye did it mito me."
Mrs. Fanny H. Titus-Hazen.
476
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. DELIA BARTLETT FAY,
Upper Jay, Essex Co., N. Y.
)RS. DELIA BARTLETT FAY was one
more of the noble women who gave ser-
vice in our country's need on battlefields,
in hospitals, and the Christian Commission
work. She volunteered her services to the 118th
Regiment, ji^ew York State Volunteers. Her hus-
band, Willie Fay, enlisted in Company C of this
regiment.
They proceeded at once to Plattsburg, and were
stationed at the old stone barracks, to await further
orders. Their first move from there was to Fort
Ethan Allen, near Washington, the object being to
strengthen the defense of the National capital; there
the regiment remained nntil 1863. The camp was
called Camp Adirondack, as the men of the regiment
were largely from the Adirondack region. The
regiment did duty at all Government buildings ; the
men also did camp and picket duty. From this
place the regiment was ordered to Suffolk, where
they engaged in their first action. Mrs. Fay was
present at this siege, which lasted several days.
Many a poor victim of shot and shell breathed his
last under the tender care of this noble, self-sacri-
ficing woman, sometimes just where they had fallen.
She knew no fear of the rebel fire when her services
were needed to hold up the fainting, battle-scarred
478 OUR ARMY NURSES.
hero. Many were the tender messages intrusted to
her keeping for delivery to loved ones at home.
After the siege at Suffolk the regiment was
ordered to Yorktown, and were kept on the move,
for the jDui'pose of surprising the enemy and to
attaek them from unexpected som-ces. About the
last of June the regiment was again ordered to
Suffolk, where the 118th and two companies of the
99th regiment had an engagement with the rebels, in
which a large number were made prisoners. During
all the marches Mrs. Fay shared the lot of the
soldier, marching the same number of miles, carry-
ing her load at all times, and sometimes the load of
some sick boy, who would have been compelled to
drop out by the wayside but for friendly aid; and
as soon as camp was struck she Avould go al:)out the
preparation of sick diets, to tempt the appetite of the
sick and wounded.
Mrs. Fay had great influence Avith the colored
people. She obtained abundance of stores, which
would have been beyond the reach of any other
one of the regiment. It can be said of Mrs. Fay
that her cheerfulness and heroism under all trying
conditions gave life and animation to the homesick
and weary ones. She was on one occasion detailed
to go on a scouting expedition to locate the rebel
forces. She was very successful, and rej^orted her
information to the satisfaction of her captain. While
the regiment was at Camp Barnes, near the city of
Norfolk, they encountei'cd a stanch rebel, — Doctor
Wright. He had repeatedly avowed that if he ever
OUR army nurses. 479
saw a white man drilling the negroes he would shoot
him on the spot. One day when he was on his way
from his house to his office he saw his man. A lieu-
tenant had been detailed to drill a company of
negroes. The old doctor retraced his steps to his
house and procured his revolver. His daughter asked
what he was going to do. He explained in a few
words. The daughter said: "That is right, father;
shoot the dirty Yankee. They dare not do anything
to you." He proceeded again to where he had seen
the lieutenant, and deliberately shot him dead.
Doctor Wright did not escape; he was captured
not ten j^aces from where he fired the fatal shot,
was tried by court-mai-shal, and sentenced to be
hung in six days. While in prison a very clever
piece of strategy was concocted by his daughter,
which nearly resulted in his escape. The daughter
visited the prison every day, always wearing a large
bonnet, closely veiled. One day when she came out
from his cell the guard thought he detected a change
in her appearance. She had passed the first guard;
there were two more to pass before she could be
free. She had nearly reached the second when the
first guard rushed up behind her and divested her of
her bonnet and veil ; the action exposed to view the
old doctor's face. After all hope of escape was
abandoned, the daughter was married in the cell of
her father the day preceding the execution. The
next day he was led to the scaffold, the noose placed
about his neck, then asked if he had anything to say.
He said he had not, only that he did not regret what
480 OUR ARMY NURSES.
he had done, and would do it again nnder the circum-
stances.
Thi'oughout the three years of her service, Mrs.
Fay did her part as only a true and kind nature can
do; and after the fall of Richmond, she, with her
husband, journeyed homeward in the same steamer
that they went to service in three years before.
BETWEEN THE LINES.
Between the lines the smoke hung low,
And shells flew screaming to and fro,
While blue or gray, in sharp distress.
Rode fast, their shattered lines to press
Again upon the lingering foe.
'Tis past — and now the roses blow
Where war was waging years ago.
And naught exists save friendliness
Between the lines.
482
OUR ARMY NURSES.
EANDMOTHER Ts'EAYCOMB was not second
in many respects to Mother Bickerdyke. She,
also, gave f onr years to the care of our wonnded
and sick sokliers. Although not present in
so many battles, she labored bravely for our fallen
heroes.
She tells us : " At one time while the boats were
loading with wounded to go up the river, there was
a boy who had his furlough and ti-ansportation, but
when he applied for passage the captain refused, as
he had too many already. The poor boy called out
to me : ^ Take me, too ! Let me go home to die ! ' I
ran down the plank to him, and in some way I got
him ou the boat." How it was done is told in the
following verses : —
" Grandmother Newcomb of Illinois,
Known to hosts of the army boys
For nmnberless deeds of kindness done ;
AYidowed at bloody Donelson.
She took far more than her husband's place
In the conquering march of the loyal blue,
In deeds of mercy and motherly grace,
To the blue-coats first, — but the gray-coats too.
"Grandmother Newcomb of EfBngham,
That July day, when the great boats swam
At the foot of Vicksburg's yellow bluff',
When the stars and bars had fluttered low,
And the stars and stripes were fluttering high,
And for one day there was glory enough, —
483
484 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Grandmother Newcomb, out of the fjlow
Of jubilant triumph, heard the cry
Of one of her wounded soldier boys :
' Take me back to my Illinois ;
Take me back to my home to die ! '
"Onward swinging, the huge boat's prow
Slowly swinging, a moment more
Had left the agonized boy ashore,
In all the frenzy of wild despair.
To die in this far, hot land of sands ;
And his cool green prairies even now
Stretching their myriad healing hands
To gather, and shelter, and heal him there.
" 'No soldier can come aboard this boat,'
Hoarsely its sullen captain said,
In a growl from the depths of his bearded throat,
With an angry shake of his vicious head.
' Dying or living, you stay ashore.
We have one load, and we'll take no more ! '
And at his command the long stage plank
Slowly rose from the sandy bank,
And, rending the air with a pitiful moan.
The sick boy sank to the ground like a stone.
" How she did it nobody knew, —
And nobody knew it less than she, —
But right in the face of the wondering crew,
Right in the teeth of the angry mate.
As the plank came up, she walked elate.
Bearing the wounded boy somehow.
In the burst of indignant ecstacy.
Into the midst of the cheering crew.
* There ! ' said she, as she laid him down,
And facing the mate with a threatening frown,
* You throw him out, and you throw me too.' "
OUR ARMY NURSES.
485
"Cheer after cheer went up from the bank ;
Cheers from the boats, crew after crew,
As the great boat, slowly hauling its plank,
Northward into the channel drew ;
And happy visions of prairies bright,
Happy visions for one of the boys,
Taking his hopeful homeward flight.
Under the more than motherly care
Of the Dorian matron standing there, —
Grandmother Newcomb of Illinois."
486
OUR ARMY NURSES.
.-,*
M. V. HARKIN.
J LEFT Fond Du Lac on the 12th of February,
1862, and arrived in Madison the same day.
The 13th I went to the State House, where my
commission as a vohinteer nurse awaited me;
and on the llrth went into a hospital, where I received
my first lessons in nursing. My mother, Mrs. Sarah
A. M. Kenna, and myself, with several other nurses,
were attached to the 17th Wisconsin Volunteer
Infantry, and we were all very eager to go to the
front. While we were in Madison the barracks
caught fire, and two soldiers were burned to death.
In March we started for St. Louis. All along the
line the ladies were out in full force to welcome us,
and at every station men, women, and children vied
with each other in seeing who could do the most for
the soldier ladies. In Chicago they treated the boys
to cake, coffee, and fruit, while we nurses were almost
smothered with flowers.
In due time we arrived in St. Louis, and as we
went into Benton Barracks the brave 14th Wisconsin
Volunteer Infantry marched out, cheering us as they
passed.
How little the noble fellows realized of the fierce
struggle in which they were about to participate!
And how many who were now so full of life and
hope, would soon lie low on the bloody field of
Shiloh!
In the meantime we were getting our hospital in
487
488 OUR ARiMY NURSES.
order. Soon we had plenty of work, for the measles
attacked the boys, and we lost several. One Fond
Du Lac boy, Charles Daughei'ty, had the measles hi
a very light form, and the doctor thought there was
no danger; but the young man expected to die, and
calling me to him one evening, said: "I am going
now. I wanted to help my dear country in her strait,
but I know it is ordered otherwise. Let my friends
know that I died thinking of them, and of my
brother Johnny, who is on a gunboat. He will
never reach home. I am all ready, and willing to
die," I told him that the doctor said he would
recover. He replied: "^ot so. Go, now, and come
again in half an hour." I went for the doctor, who
at once saw a great change, and tried in every w\ay
to restore him, but he was sinking rapidly, and in an
hour he was dead.
Another case that I shall always remember was
that of a i)oor Indiana boy, "the only son of his
mother, and she was a widow." Oh, how he strug-
gled for his life ! He would say : " I cannot die, for
who will take care of my poor mother? She is old,
and she has only me." But in spite of our care the
noble fellow died, after undergoing tei-rible suffering,
and I wi'ote the sad tidings to his mother.
At last the news came that there was every pros-
pect of a fight at Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh, as it
is sometimes called, and the 17th was ordered to be
ready at a moment's notice. Our woi'st cases wei-e
sent to the General Hospital, and everything was
put in order. Then we were commanded to embark
OUR ARMY NURSES. 489
for Pittsburg' Landing. There was wild cheering
and waving of hats. All were anxious to go, and
good-byes to Benton Barracks and St. Louis
resounded on every hand. There was a poor old
woman selling apples, and as she tried to cross the
plank to go on board the steamer, she missed hei"
footing and fell. Alas! there was no hope of rescu-
ing her, for the great wheel dashed her under the
water, and she was lost to our sight foi-ever.
This event cast a gloom over us for some time, and
to intensify the feeling a man walked overboard in
his sleep the first night, and was drowned. Along
the Tennessee shore we watched for a masked bat-
tery, but, fortunately, we were not disturbed.
When we reached Savannah we could hear the
noise and fuss of the hospital that they had close by
the shore.
Here we heard of the battle of Shiloh. The next
morning we sighted the Landing, and disembarked
about noon.
Our soldiers were detailed at once to help buiy the
dead, the steamer Avas used as a hospital, and we
were set to work. The doctors pitched hospital tents,
also. Here we saw some of the horrors of war.
There were wounds of every description, and many
a brave young life went out on the amputation table.
The battlefield looked as if it had been ploughed m
deep furrows; for every inch, north and south, had
been contested stubbornly ; and the white wood was
laid bare on every tree, as if it had been peeled by
hand.
490 OUR ARMY NURSES.
After all of the brave dead had been buried in
" their graves in company," and the gronnd made
as clean as possible, we began to send ]N^orth those
who were able to move; some to Padncah, some to
Savannah, and others to Cairo. We had great hard-
ships to contend against. There was great lack of
hospital stores, and we were all on short rations. On
account of the masked batteries we fonnd it hard to
get supplies, and for one week all we nurses had to
eat was hard-tack. ISTot one of us would touch the
small store that we had for the sick, and we were
nearly stai'ved at the end of that time, when a large
steamer Ijrought an abundance of provisions, sent by
AVisconsin for her soldiers. Then followed long,
weary days, and night watches Avith poor suffering
men. There was almost every form of sickness,
and we had to do all the cooking, and we had to
keep the soldiers clean and the hospital in order.
Soon a sad time came to us. Mrs. Anna McMahon,
a noble nurse, was taken with the measles. We
watched over her with the deepest anxiety, for we
felt that we could not spare one of our little band;
but after five days of suffering she raised her lan-
guid eyes and asked, " Have I done my duty? "
The doctor assured her that she had; then with a
weary sigh she said, " Good-bye; I will go to sleep."
She slept, but it Avas never to wake. That was a sad
day for us. We could not pi-ocure a coffin, but a
soldier carpenter took some cracker boxes, from
which he made as decent a one as possible. We
wreathed it in flowers from the battlefield, and
OUR ARMY NURSES. 491
buried her beneath thi'ee hirge trees that grew on
the bank of the Tennessee River. A rude boai-d
head-piece, bearing her name, Avas erected, and we
left her there to take up onr work as best we coukl.
As the weather grew warmer sickness increased.
The water was not very good, and the men lacked
such food as would keep them in good health. The
ground on which they had to sleep, with just a
blanket wrapped around them, was damp and reek-
ing with vile odors, and it was no wonder that so
many died. Could the 3^oung who now eye the old
soldiers so coldly, look into the past, and see how
they marched away to fight for their country and for
unborn generations, could they see the suffering and
hardships that were borne almost without a murmur,
they would give the soldiers a larger place in their
hearts than they occupy to-day. But it is beyond
the comprehension of any one who was not actually
present.
We had moved about half way from the Landing
to Corinth, when a call came for two nui-ses at the
General Hospital. My mother and I went, and Avhen
we returned, at the end of a week, we found Mrs.
Thurston, another of our nurses, sick unto death.
Many, many were the tears that we shed for her,
and the soldiers, too, wei-e not ashamed to weep.
May the sods lie lightly over her sweet face ! Sleep
well, beloved friend.
At this place the soldiers of the 15th Michigan
Yolunteer Infantry had laid out a nice graveyard,
and at every grave a board was erected, bearing the
492 OUR ARMY NURSES.
soldier's name and regiment. Near this spot we had
fonnd a young man who must have been one of the
out&ide pickets at the battle of Pittsburg Landing,
and been captnred and tied to a tree. We had him
taken down and buried, but never learned his name
or command. He was one of the ^^ missing."
At Corinth things were much better. We had a
large house for a hospital. It is wonderful how
much quicker a person will get well when sur-
rounded by the comforts of a home, although every
day we were looking for a battle.
Here I came very near making the acquaintance of
a Southern prison. The troops were stationed about
three miles from Corinth, and the little toAvn was all
quiet. There were not many patients in the hospital,
and no dangerous cases, so I asked the doctor's per-
mission one day to go for a ride. He warned me not
to go f\u-, as there was danger; but I was well
mounted, and feeling that there could be no danger,
I wanted to. enjoy my liberty to the utmost. So away
I went, with my little orderly at my side. I soon
turned onto a pleasant road, shaded with beautiful
trees, and leading almost north. My horse was fresh,
and eager to go, and we dashed on. At last we saw
soldiers ; but they were our own men, and of course
I was not afraid of them. As I flew past, as fast as
my horse could go, I thought I heard voices calling,
but paid no attention, and rode on for as much as
two hours ; when I came to a large ravine, that cut
the road in two. I stopped, looked down into the
dark gully, then raised my eyes to the opposite hill.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 493
where I saAv a rude farm-house, and a white cow
grazing in tlie field. I thought I would cross the
gully and see if I could buy a drink of milk, I had
gone about half way down the hill, when at the
bottom I saw five men in the well-known "butter-
nut " uniform. My breath almost left my body as
the foi'emost said : " Halt ! You are my prisoner."
He walked toward me, and in another minute would
have had my horse by the bridle. " I will die first,"
was my thought as I jerked the rein, and my dear
old horse turned with a jump. "Shoot the spy!"
they shouted. I was in truth flying for dear life.
They fired three shots after me, but I must have
gone like the wind, for I heard no more from them.
When I reached the picket lines the little orderly
was almost sure I w\as ""'gobbled," as they called
being taken prisoner. The officer gave me a scold-
ing, and told me how three of our men were killed
thei'C a short time befoi'e. I found my father and
mother very anxious about me, and I myself was
almost sick with fright.
Soon a soldier was taken with small-pox, and put
in a tent by himself. My mother and I took turns
caring for him. The poor fellow took cold in the
tent, and became deaf, but recovered his health, and
we procured his discharge.
As the very warm weather came on my own health
Avas poor, and my mother wanted me to go home. I
could not go as long as I could stand at my post;
but at last I was threatened with tyi)hoid fever, and
as my mother was to accompany some sick to the
494
OUR ARMY NURSES.
Xorth, she persuaded me to go with her, pi-omising
that I should go back with her the next time ; but 1
w^as not able, and she returned to Corinth without
rae; then went to Memphis, Avhere she did good work
in Overton Hospital. Dear mother died Aug. 15,
1893. She was a member of George A. Custer
Kehef. Corps, :N"o. 78, Ashland.
Yours in F., C. aud L.,
M. \ . Hakkix.
Marshfikld, Wood County, Wis.
National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn.
496
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MRS. J. T. RICHARDS.
¥(9TITEX the Civil Wai* broke out my home was
lAl with my parents, on a farm in Southern
/^^ Wisconsin. My name was Selener J. Bray.
^^^^ We had but one brother at home, and it was
not nntil the second call for "three hnndred thonsand
more " men rang out over the jSTorth, that my brother
felt it his dnty to go.
In those days the love of countiy was as strong in
the hearts of the loyal girls as in that of their
brothers. AYe were ]:)roud to do as mnch of their
work as possible, feeling that thns we were helping
to put down the rebellion. But all work grew into
mountains in those troublesome times, and yet we
wanted to do more to help save the country. It was
found that not only could women care for the sick
and wounded, but that they were needed to prepare
food suitable for the sick. To meet this want light
Diet Kitchens were organized, and two Christian
women placed in each kitchen, with power to draw
needed sujDplies from the Commission, and it was
their duty to see that the food was well prepai-ed.
The slaves were freed, and we had all the help
required. My sister and I had charge of the light
Diet Kitchen in McPherson Hospital, in Vicksbm'g,
Miss. W^e went there in February, before the war
closed, and remained until July. Our work before
that was in Memphis, Tenn. There my sister was
498 OUR ARMY NURSES.
very sick with fever. As we look backward, over
time in its flight, and remember what we did, we are
g-lad to be able to place our names among the helpers
in our great Civil War; and if we did not tend the
boys in the wards, we feel comj^ensated in knowing
we made many of the poor, half -dead, exchanged
prisoners feel ncAV springs of life running through
their veins from the food we prepared for them. Yet
many of them were past recovery; no effort could
bring back the natural look from the vacant stare of
that glazed, wondering expression in the eyes of our
starved boys who came to our hospital in such large
numbers from Southern prison pens. The average
death rate for many weeks reached six a day — poor,
starved boys! Their coffins were white pine, and
many of their names unknown. Here Mrs. Witten-
meyer had the superintendence of Sanitary Christian
Commission work, where she nobly performed her
part. I have always cherished with delight the
thought that I had done something.
Mrs. J. T. Richards.
206 Washington Avenue, Mason City, Iowa.
[We congratulate Mrs. Richards upon the important part of her
nursing ; no less a nurse because of her superintendence of the Diet
Kitchen. — Mary A. Gardner Holland.]
500
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MARY E. BELL.
AVAS born in Hillsl)oroiigh, Highland Connty,
Ohio, Jnly 28, 1840. I went from my home
in Bellefontaine, Ohio, in September, 1863, to
begin my work in the wai- at Covington Bar-
racks, Kentucky. My husband, A. O. Hartley, was
hospital steward, and I assisted him in caring for the
sick of the regiment at that place. In ISTovember
we Avere ordered to Munfordsville, Ky., and went
into winter quarters there. A post hospital was
immediately established, and I was appointed ma-
tron by the surgeon in charge. Here the sick of
these regiments, and also the sick and wounded who
were brought in to us, received the most careful
treatment. Everything was done that would add to
their speedy recover}^ or their comfort.
I had special care of the low diet for the very sick
patients, but my care extended to all in the hospital.
Many were the letters written for sick and dying
soldiers; many the sad messages sent to bereaved
ones at home.
AYe remained there until May, 18G1:; then came
marching orders, " To the front." The sick and
wounded were sent to other places, and very soon
the hospital that had been our home for months, was
deserted; but, with other ladies of our regiment, I
failed to obtain permission to go to the front, so I
came Xorth, and remained until 1865, when I entered
501
502
OUR ARMY NURSES.
the work again at Jeffersoiiville Hospital for three
months.
At Chattanooga, Tenn., on April 15, 1865, mj
husband died, from injuries received in the service.
At the close of my hospital work I was com-
missioned to teach the Freedmen. I taught one
3^ear in the Fisk University, at ]S"ashville, Tenn.,
and three years in other parts of that State.
Mary E. Bell.
7th New Jersey Infantry.
National Cemetery, Gettysburg, Penn.
504
OUR ARBIY NURSES.
j^-^.
MRS. HELEN E. SMITH.
^RS. HELE^" E. SMITH was residing in
Worcester, Mass., when the war l^roke out,
and with many others did what slie conid to
assist those wdio were taking part in the
great struggle. In 1862 she had married "Wood-
bury C Smith, wlio had enhsted in the 34:th Regi-
ment Massachusetts Yohmteers, then in camp in
that city. After the departure of the regiment for
the seat of war she visited her home, and then
accepted a position in the hnen department of
McDougak- Hospital, Fort Schuyler, Xew York
Harbor. Here she remained three months.
In July, 1861:, she was ajDpointed as a nurse b}^
Miss D. L. Dix, and ordered to report for duty at
United. States General Hospital, Hilton Head, S. C.
She was placed in charge of the linen room until
the matron went home, on account of ill health, when
she was appointed matron, remaining in charge
until the end of the war.
In June, 1865, she joined her husband, Capt.
Woodbury C. Smith, 35th Regiment United States
Cavalry Troops, at Charleston, S. C, where he
remained in the service for a year after the war
ended. Mrs. Smith had two brothers in the war, also.
Her present address is AVorcester, Mass. She is a
charter member of George H. Ward Woman's
Relief Corps, IS'o. 11.
506 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Of her hospital experiences she writes as follows:
It is difficult to select incidents, as every day was
so full of joy and sadness, — sadness that we felt on
thinking of the suffering of those around us; joy
that we could do something to help the soldiers.
One of the saddest things I saw was near the
close of the war, when the " Andersonville Pen "
was broken up, and some five hundred men who
had been imprisoned there were sent to Hilton
Head Hospital, to be clothed and await transporta-
tion ]!^orth. How can I describe them? It is
beyond description! Had my husband or my
brother been among them I could not have recog-
nized either. Emaciated, void of expression, clothed
in rags, they excited not only the deepest sympathy,
but also the deepest indignation of all who saw
them. It was a fearful thing that they should
have been so inhumanly, so brutally treated.
They learned that we had some slippers at the
linen room. The men were barefooted, and their
feet were so swollen that they burst, and were sore
with scurv} , so they almost fought for the slippers,
as there were not enough to go around, and we
had only small sizes. But the men would not
be contented until they had tried to jDut them on.
They asked for handkerchiefs; we had none, but
we had several hundred print dressing-gowns sent by
the Commission at home. Not a soldier would wear
one if he could get one of Uncle Sam's blue and gray
regulation gowns; and as the war was nearly closed
OUR ARMY NURSES. 507
we should not need them, so we obtained permission
to cut them into handkerchiefs for the men. We
liad enough for all, and the day they were to sail
they marched to the veranda of the linen room, and
colored boys and girls gave one to each of them.
And how that piece of calico was appreciated!
It has been said of the war drama " The Drummer
Boy " that the prison scene is exaggerated. It is
not. It cannot be.
Our surgeon in charge, Dr. John H. Huber, was a
kind and true friend to the sokliers, always thought-
ful of their welfare. So, also, was his first assistant,
Dr. J. T. Reber, and the executive officer. Dr. Wm.
H. Balser. It seemed like a family. The chaplain,
Mr. Van Antwerp, of Pennsylvania, was always
ready to do what he could to alleviate the physi-
cal suffering or minister to the spiritual wants of
the soldiers.
One Saturday afternoon a woman came to my
quarters with a permit to remain with me until the
next steamer sailed. She was from Central ]!*^ew
York, and this is her story: Word was sent that
her son was very sick on Tolly Island. She wanted
to go to him at once, and soon procured the neces-
sary pass, l)ut there was a delay of weeks before she
reached the place; then it was only to find that he
had been sent to Hilton Head Hospital. When she
arrived her son had been dead a week. Sick from
the red-tape delays, and almost heart-broken at the
loss of her boy, she was a sad picture to me; but I
did what I could to make her comfortable. We
508 OUR ARMY NURSES.
Fisited the wards, where she talked with the sol-
diers, who strongly felt her motherly presence. She
Avanted to carry the body of her son home. On
Sanda}^ we drove to the jSiational Cemetery, and
when we showed her his grave she said, " ]^o, no ;
I cannot disturb him ! " and seemed content to leave
him there in those beautifid grounds.
In the winter of 1864 and 1865 there were betAveen
two and three hundred rebel prisoners encamped in
an open field a short distance fi-om the hospital.
There were many boys not more than twelve or
fifteen years old among them. So as the sick
from this camp Avere brought to our hospital, it
chanced that one little fellow, not more than four-
teen, sick with typhoid fever, came under my care.
He Avas delirious, and called piteously for his mother;
so his nurse called me, and as I sat by his side he
opened his eyes and exclaimed, "Mother!" then
thrcAV his arms around my neck. I soothed his
fcAA" last hours, and alloAved him to think that I
Avas his mother. And thus such incidents might
be multiplied.
Only those who ha\^e had experience in the hospi-
tal, or prison, or on the battlefield, can realize hoAv
barbarous and cruel a thing is war. With the
increase of liberal thought, and the broader A^iew
of the value and responsibility of life, war between
civilized peoples should be w^ell-nigh impossible.
"May we never have another!" is my earnest
prayer.
Mrs. Helen E. Smith.
510
OUR ARMY NURSES.
MOTHER RANSOM, OF INDIANA.
THE SINKING SHIP,
**1Rortb Hmerlca."
J HAD been appointed aid to our physician, Dr.
McCIintock, in charge of a large numl^er of
sick soldiers, who were to be transported to
their homes or to Northern hospitals. In mak-
ing preparations I came to a poor fellow whose wan,
appealing face touched a tender cord of my being, and
I said, "Are you going to start North to-night?"
He turned wearily, and said, " I fear I am too weak
to endure the vo^^age, unless there were some one on
whom I could depend." I said, " I may go." " Oh !
then I will venture," his face beaming" with gladness.
The preparations were all made, and we sailed in
the Government transj^ort " IS'orth America," com-
manded by Captain Marshman, of Philadelphia. We
started on the evening of December 16, 1864, at six
o'clock. The ship was manned by forty-four men.
There were twelve passengers, and two hundred and
three enlisted sick soldiers bi'ought fi'om Dallas,
Hermitage, Manning, and Baton Rouge, and four
women besides the stewardess: one a lady return-
ing from ISTew Orleans with her sick husband; an-
other, Miss Fowler, with her brother; and one a
passenger who had nothing to do with the arm}'.
"We had pleasant weather until the night of the 20th.
512 OUR ARMY NURSES.
We buried one of our brave soldier boys in the sea,
little thinking that ere we reached ]^ew York one
hundi-ed and ninety-four of our dear soldiers would
find a watery grave. On the morning of the 22d,
just off the coast of Florida, the steamer was i*e-
ported leaking forward. Effort was made to stop
the leak, but all in vain, and there seemed no hope.
However, a soldier who had been a sailor before the
war reported a sail. It proved to be the " Mary E.
Lil)l)y," from Cuba, laden with molasses, for Port-
land, Maine. She answered our signals of distress,
and when she came alongside, the seas were so
heavy the vessels collided, and for a time it was
hard to tell which vessel would go down first.
AYhen the vessels struck, one of our firemen jumped
for the deck of the ''Libb3\'' and was lost between
the vessels. The fireman and the purser were the
only men of the crew that were lost. At five o'clock
on the morning of the 23d the first boat left our
sinking steamer. The vessel was pitching and toss-
ing about, and I was so sick I felt I could not utter
one word, but in my heart I prayed, *"' Father, if my
work is done, and Thou seest it best for me to find a
grave in Old Ocean's bosom, Amen.'' I pulled myself
to the deck as best I could, having a life-preserver
on over cloak and shawl. I was confronted on the
deck with that large number of soldiers, all crying
and praying, and there I saw the soldier boy who
said, " If you are going I Avill venture.'' My dear
soldier boys, God's power in the elements forbade
me doing, oh! what my heart and hands would so
OUR ARMY NURSES. 513
gladly have done. And they were taken, and 1 was
saved, which for months seemed to me such a
mystery. Those noble young men who had been
disabled in our country's interest, they represented
fifteen regiments, the greater part of them from
Illinois, but some from the East, and fifty men of
Scott's nine hundred, of the Eleventh ^ew York
Cavalry. I asked Dr. McChntock, "AYho is pre-
paring our sick soldiers who are in the steerage?'^
I knew there were six or nine unable to get up alone.
He replied, " We shall do the best we can for the
soldiers.'' " But, Doctor," I said, " who is helping
them?" I did not then realize that two feet of water
was at that time their winding sheet, which was the
case, as 1 afterward learned. I can never efface from
my memory that great number of men crying and
praying on the deck and stairway. The second boat
to the " Libby " had on board Miss Fowler and her
brother. She had refused to go in the first boat with-
out him. Eight loads were attempted to be transferred,
but one which was manned by the purser and two
assistants was swamped, and all lost. The boat I went
in came near being swamped. Two men manned the
oars ; a third gave the command, his voice so solemn
and terror-stricken it was enough to pierce the
hardest heart. The storm was so severe, and the
waves rolling so fearfully, each word echoed over
the sea and back into our hearts: "Row, boys, row,
row, row ! " I can never forget the solemnity of that
hour while memory holds her seat, those words roll-
ing up from the depths of the ocean, " Row, boys.
514 OUR ARMY NURSES.
row, row, row! " Captain Libby had a heart as large
as a human l^od}^ could hold. He and his crew did
all they could do in their cramped condition to care
for so many. Fortunately for us and the " Libby '" a
steamer from Hilton Head, bound for Kew Yorlv,
overtook us on the morning of the 30th, and con-
veyed us to !New York, arri^ ing in the night.
Doctor McClintock sent me to the State Sanitary
Commission, and as soon as they kncAV of the terrible
disaster I had passed through, they presented me
with fifty dollars and took me to the New England
Rooms, a temporary hospital, where I was cared for
as if I had been a princess. For wxeks this terrible
scene was kept fresh in my mind by one and another
inquiring for friends. It was almost beyond my
power of endurance to recount that heart-rending-
scene. Our dear soldiei-s on that sinking ship; one
hundred and ninety-four went down w ith her !
^ ' Shall we meet beyond the river,
Where the surges cease to roll?
Where, in all the bright forever,
Sorrow ne'er shall press the soul ? "
Mother Raxsom, of Ik^dia:n^a.
516
OUR ARMY NURSES.
tH^ WK
MRS. M. A. BICKERDYKE.
J SERVED ill our great Civil War fi-om June
9, 1861, to March 20, 1865. I did the Avork
of one, and tried to do it well. I was m
nineteen hard-fought battles, in the depart-
ments of the Ohio, Tennessee, and Cumberland
armies. Fort Donelson, February 15th and 16th,
was the first battle to which I was eye-witness;
Pittsburg Landing, April 6th and 7th, the second;
luka, September 20th, the third; and Corinth, Octo-
ber 3d and 4th, the fourth.
In January, 1863, we went fi-om Corinth to Mem-
phis, and from January to October, 1863, passed
63,800 men through our hospitals.
During the siege of Yicksburg I made several
trips from that city with wounded soldiers to the
Memphis hospitals.
On the 2Tth of October I received orders to report
at Chattanooga, and arrived in time to see the battle
of Lookout Mountain, — that famous "battle above the
clouds." I Avatched the dreadful combat until the
clouds hid all from view. Li fancy I can hear
General Hooker's artillery noAV.
Our next fearful struggle Avas Missionary Ridge.
This point Avas strongly fortified, the rifle-pits Avere
closely arranged, and Avith the artillery belching forth
518 OUR ARMY NURSES.
fire and death, it seemed impossible for our men to
take it. The night before the battle was bright
moonlight, and all night long the troops marched
to their positions. In the morning they presented a
solid wall of blue. IS'ever were men more hopeful,
and yet it looked so terrible, so appalling, — that
dangerous route np the rough and jagged moun-
tain side. I was in the second story of the hotel.
My duty was to receive the gifts from the soldiers to
their friends, if, to use their own expi'ession, they
''bit the dust." These gifts consisted of farewell
letters, watches, money, and any little things they
wanted sent " home " if they never returned.
The order to march was given between eleven and
twelve o'clock. Amid the din and roar of shot and
shell, and the commands of the officers, it was almost
impossible to distinguish any j^articular sound; yet
General Osterhaus's thrilling commands could be
heard with startling distinctness. It was his artillery
that sent the first shell through General Bragg's
headquarters.
The men mai'ched up that stony precijDice so
rapidly that even the officers were amazed. General
Grant asked, " Who gave that command ?" General
Thomas repHed, " They gave it themselves." In one
short hour that desperate battle was fought and won ;
General Bragg was in full retreat, and his aimy
closely pursued. Was not the ^' God of Battle "
there?
The Stars and Stripes floated from one end of
Missionary Ridge to the other. Seventeen hundred
OUR ARMY NURSES. 519
men were killed and wounded in the loth Army
Corps alone. Our wounded were kept at the foot of
Missionary Ridge five weeks, and then they were
removed to Chattanooga in time for the coldest
stoi-m on record; but none of our patients froze
to death.
The first of March found us in Huntsville,
Alabama, getting ready for the spring campaign.
Resaca, early in May, was our first battle, — and a
bloody and hard-fought one it was, too. ]!^ow
comes a constant roar of artillery for one hundred
days, until Atlanta was taken, and many were the
battles in this campaign. Kennisaw Mountain was
where we dislodged Gren. Joseph Johnston. Then
came Mt. Hope, Big Shantee, and on, and on, until
the fall of Atlanta. Here we had the worst hospitals
of the war. Kingston, then Altoona Pass, then on
to Marietta, where, while the shooting of both blue
and gray went on, in Sherman's army we had at one
time twenty thousand wounded soldiers. The
exhaustion and suffering of that Georgia campaign
can never be told !
Here is where I saw General Kilpatrick and his
seven thousand cavalrymen swinging around Atlanta,
burning and destroying everything they could lay
hands on, swimming the Black Warrior with the
enemy close behind them. This stream takes its
name from the Creek Indians, who, closely pur-
sued, preferred death to surrender; and plunging
into the turbulent waters were drowned: hence the
name, " Black Warrior." But General Kilpatrick's
520 OUR ARMY NURSES.
work was not in vain. Atlanta surrendered, and we,
the army nurses, ti'eated the general and his worn-
out troops to bread and butter and coffee.
The surrender of Atlanta marked the close of my
work in the Georgia campaign.
Mrs. M. a. Bickerdyke.
The work of " Mother Bickerdyke " is so widely
and well known, that the above article from her pen
cannot fail to be greatly appreciated; but realizing
that one by one our comrades are ci'ossing the river,
and that to the rising generation the Civil War is
already like a half-forgotten story, aside from the
lessons of patriotism it teaches, we have gathered a
few of the details of this most remarkable woman's
work, and re-tell them, hoping that a measure of her
si^irit of whole-souled devotion to country and to
sufltering humanity may find lodgment in the heart
of every reader.
After the surrender of Sumter her heart, which had
been burdened with a mother's solicitude for the boys
she had seen march away, could no longer endure the
dreadful suspense, and the still more dreadful con-
firmation of her fears that daily met her eye as she
glanced over the crowded colinnns of the papers.
Her clear judgment did not admit of her failing to
realize the horrible sights and the hardships she
would have to undergo at the front; but by the
force of her indomitable will, the lesser evil would
be lost in the greater, and she would unfalteringly
tread the path of duty, outwardly unmoved by envi-
OUR ARMY NURSES. 521
roiiments that must have nnnerved a less-determined
person.
Many stories have l)een told of the half-frenzied
search for friends and relatives among the slain,
Avhen tortured love lent an almost superhuman
fearlessness that enabled the seekers to endure the
strain of their ghastly surroundings; but perhaps no
single incident in the life , of Mrs. Bickerdyke por-
trays her large-heartedness, in fact the motherly care
that she felt for the wounded soldiers, than the
following: I Tlie victory had been gained at Fort
Donelson, and the glad news carried with it great
]*ejoicing; meanwhile the soldiers who had won that
victory were suffering more than tongne can rehite.
Their clothes often froze to their bodies, and as there
were no accommodations for so many, hundreds
perished wholly without care. Mrs. Bickerdyke had
witnessed her first battle with a courage equal to
every demand. That fearful day was at last ended,
and darkness settled over the deserted field, where
the dead still lay awaiting burial.
The night grew darker and darker. The strange,
weird silence, after such a day, produced an inde-
scribable feeling of awe. At midnight an ofiicer
noticed a light moving up and down among the
dead, and dispatched some one to see what it meant.
The man soon returned, and told him that it was
Mrs. Bickerdyke, who, with her lantern, was examin-
ing the bodies to make sure that no living man
should l)e left alone amid such surroundings. She
did not seem to realize that she was doing anything
522 OUR ARMY NURSES.
remarkable, and turning from the messenger, con-
tinned her search over that awful field, actuated
simply by her love for humanity.
Many Avounded of the rebel army, who had been
deserted, were the recipients of her care. As a
mangled arm was being dressed for one, he felt
instinctively the deep sympathy-^or his suffering,
and said, " That arm would not have done such
service if I had known what sort of people I was
fighting."
-^ Her work was varied: now on the field of battle:
now on board a boat, caring for a load of soldiers in
transit; now in the hospital; and now engaged in
more general sanitary duties. Thus many phases of
a soldier's life came under her observation. — """^
Often young boys found their way into the ranks,
and it was infinitely pathetic to reaUze their position,
and picture in imagination how they had been loved
and cherished at home. Ah, how many of them
to-day fill heroes' graves! One mentioned by Mrs.
Bickerdyke was a boy about nineteen years of age,
but large and manly for his years. During his
infancy his mother died, leaving him to the almost
idolizing care of father, brothers, and sisters. He
entered the army a happy, half-willfnl boy, looking
upon his position in the hopefnl, confident manner of
youth. kSlowly, but surely, he was transformed into
the grave patriot, ready to give his life wherever it
should be needed most; no longer looking forward
to battle, but anticipating his first active service with
an ever-increasing self-surrender. He was at Pitts-
OUR ARMY NURSES. 523
burg Landing, in General Prentiss's division, and
when they were surprised, about sunrise, he was
among the first ones ready to repulse the attack.
Soon he was wounded, and while being carried from
the field another ball struck him; but he had time to
say, " Tell my friends that I died on the field."
While the battle Avas raging, Mrs. Bickerdyke was
attending an officer who had been wounded at
Donelson, and could live only a shoi't time. Ah,
how it thrilled her heart and awakened her deepest
admiration to see how he longed to be with his regi-
ment, when he had already given so much! And
when it seemed that our men must be defeated, he
cried : " It can't be ! Those brave troops will never
siu-render! They will fight to the last, and conquer!
Oh that I were with them ! " He Avas with many of
them soon, beyond the tumult of war.
Mrs. Bickerdyke did not see all of the horrors of
that field, as her heart and hands were full in caring
for the wounded. But in connection with this battle
she has said : " The saddest thing in my experience
was receiving their last messages, and little treasures
to be sent home to their families when death came
to relieve them from pain. Such cries as '^AYhat
will become of my children? ' were hardest of all
to bear." Yet few realized how deeply she felt
for those around her, for she was so habitually
strong and cheerful, inspiring others with the same
feeling.
One night she was making her usual round of the
ward. The lights were turned down, and many of
524 OUR ARMY NURSES.
the soldiers were sleeping, while here and there a
restless snfferer counted the lagging seconds, and
longed for the morning. Passing along, she minis-
tered to each as occasion demanded, nntil one asked,
"Are yon not tired. Mother Bickerdyke?" I^ot for
a moment did she think of claiming sympathy, hnt
replied in her usual brisk way: "What if I am?
That is nothing. I am well and strong, and all I
want is to see you so, too."
In a few moments more she Avas at her place by the
table, to assist the surgeon in an amputation; then
received the patient into her own care; and as she
gave him a restorative he whispered, " Take a mes-
sage from me to my poor family; I shall surely die."
How her heart ached for him in his weakness and
suffering! But there was no change in her calm,
cheerful manner as she replied : " jSTow do not talk.
You are going to take all your messages to them
yourself, for I know you have a splendid chance to
get well."-
Her only purpose during those trying seasons was
beautifully expressed in her OAvn simple words, "I
keep doing something all the time to make the men
better, and help them to get well," and her name was
spoken with gratitude by numberless soldiers.
In September a battle was fought at luka. Here
Mother Bickerdyke again walked over a blood-
stained field to save many a life fast ebbing away
for want of immediate aid. She deftly stopped the
flow of blood from wounds that must otherwise have
proved fatal. The numl^er of wounded swelled to
OUR ARMY NURSES. 525
nearly fifteen hundred. The accommodations were
crowded, and the wounded were sent to Corinth as
fast as tlieir condition wonld permit. Mrs. Bicker-
dyke not only went with them, to alleviate suffering
on the painful journey, but did much to prevent
waste. Owing to limited time and means of trans-
portation, soiled clothing, and things that were not
especially needed to fit up the place to which they
were going, were to be left behind. But prudent
Mother Bickerdyke had all articles packed closely,
and when she saw that they were to be left, exclaimed
in surprise : " Do you suppose that we are going to
thi'ow away those things that the daughters and
wives of our soldiers have worked so hard to give
us? I will prove that they can be saved, and the
clothes w^ashed. Just take them along;" and the
order was obeyed.
A mother kneeling by the cot of her son, who was
scarcely seventeen years old, said : " It is no wonder
that you are called ^ Mother ' here, for you treat all
these men with such kindness and patience. I owe
to you the preservation of my darling's life. Oh, it
would have broken my heart had I found him dead!"
With that thought she burst into a passion of sobs,
and buried her face in the pillow. He smoothed her
silver hair with one hand (he had lost the other) , and
tried to comfort her. Such scenes aroused feelings
in the heart of Mrs. Bickerdyke for which she could
find no expression save in work.
The large hospitals in Memphis had not been
prepared in vain, and she was often seen among the
526 OUR ARMY NURSES.
patients in the different wards, besides performing
her dnties as matron of the Gayoso.
She was always planning for more and better food
for her sick boys. Fresh milk and eggs were sup-
plied in scant quantities, and were very poor at that.
She declared that it was a nuisance to pay forty
cents a quart for chalk and water. She wanted
something nourishing. Her plan was at first
deemed impracticable, but after consideration it was
conceded that her judgment was not at fault. The
sanction of her plan was gained from proper authori-
ties, and just as Spring was preparing to welcome
Summer, she started upon her famous " cow and hen
mission." Her object was to obtain one hundred
cows and one thousand hens, to be cared for on an
island in the Mississippi, near Memphis. The l)egin-
ning of this mission was distinguished by more than
one hundred crippled soldiers accompanying her as
far as St. Louis. There was not one of the poor
maimed fellows who did not bless her when she saw
them all safely in a hospital there.
As soon as she made her plans known in Jackson-
ville, 111., a wealthy farmer, aided by a few of his
neighbors, gave her the hundred cows; and as she
proceeded, chickens were cackling all about her.
She procured the desired one thousand, and her
arrival at Milwaukee was heralded by the lowing
of cows and the sprightly song of hens.
She visited Chicago, where she was entertained by
Mary A. Livermore, of the Christian Commission.
It was a Sabbath afternoon, and the family were
OUR ARMY NURSES. 527
preparing to attend the marriage of a friend; and
althongh Mrs. Bickerdyke had taken no rest since
her ari'ival, she preferred to join them rather than to
retire. The ceremony was a quiet one, performed in
the bride's home. A young officer in his bright
uniform was the bridegroom: and when he intro-
duced thfc^ white-robed girl as his wife to Mi's.
Bickerdyke, she was surprised by his telhng her
they had previously met at Fort Don el son. Then he
reminded her of an officer there who had been
wounded by a minnie-ball, appealing in vain to a
surgeon to save his leg. She induced the surgeon
to wait until morning, when it was found that he
could recover without losing the limb. " I never can
express my gratitude to you " he concluded. " You
have been to me a mother indeed."
She had accompanied the soldiers to Farmington,
whence they removed to Corinth, to secure bet-
ter accommodations. Here she established a Diet
Kitchen and a laundi-y. The great bundles of soiled
and blood-stained clothing were sent to the woods,
where colored men washed them, superintended by
Mrs. Bickerdyke. She rode a white horse, the
distance being nearly two miles from camp.
One of her best-known acts is an " interference "
that gained for her the title of "' General." It was at
the time when the Confederates attempted to re-cap-
ture Corinth, and attacked the defense Oct. 3, 1862.
The hospital work was so well organized that it
could be done very quickly, and Mrs. Bickerdyke
found some time to study the progress of the battle.
528 OUR ARMY NURSES.
The whole action was rapid and concerted. The
Board of Trade Regiment, twelve hundred strong,
had marched twenty-four miles to enter the conflict,
and only four hundred returned. The steady roar
of artillery drowned all other sounds. Toward
evening she saw a brigade hurrying forward, and
learned that they had been marching since noon,
and were about to join in the struggle. The officer
in command was requested to let them rest a few
moments, but refused. The men were passing the
hospital when a strong voice cried, •'' Halt! " Instinct-
ively they obeyed, and attendants began to distribute
soup and coffee; meanwhile their canteens were
filled, and each received a loaf of bread. " Forward,
march ! "" came the order in a very few minutes, the
time lost being more than compensated by the
renewed courage of the men, who had no other
chance to rest until midnight. Mrs. Bickerdyke
had given the order to halt herself, when she found
that no one else would do it, and her '^ interference "
was deeply appreciated; for in spite of her efforts,
many died from hunger and thirst during that
battle.
She experienced some difficulty in getting trans-
portation for her stores to Resaca, but finally arrived
while the hospital tents were being pitched. All
around lay the womided, who, one by one, were
being carried to the operating tables, by the sides
of which were heaped those ghastly piles of human
flesh. Turning from such fearful sights she began
to work among the men, binding up a wound here.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 529
straightening a limb there, and again bending to
bathe a quivering, ngonized face.
Thus day after day the fearful work went on, and
day after day Mother Bickerdyke passed in and out
among the soldiers, ministering to needs of both
mind and body, as only a strong, loving woman
could do. She had given herself unreservedly to
the work, and to such a nature as hers retreat would
be impossible. Sickness, sorrow and danger of every
kind must necessarily come, but she would meet them
as the soldiers did, — as obstacles that must be over-
come ; for the path of duty lay clearly marked out
before her and she could not turn aside. For herself
she would accept nothing; if her boys could be
comfortably cared for she was happy. She was a
capital forager, and for the sake of the sick soldier
she would brave any danger. She was once present
at the Chamber of Commerce in Milwaukee, with
the Ladies' Aid Society of the IS^orthwestern Sani-
tary Commission. The President of the Chamber, in
his blandest tones, informed the ladies that the
Chamber had considered their request, but that
they had expended so much in fitting out a regi-
ment that they must be excused from making further
contributions. Mrs. Bickerdyke asked the privilege
of saying a few words, and for a half hour she held
them enchained. She described in plain, simple lan-
guage the life of a soldier, — his privations and suf-
ferings, the patriotism which animated him to suffer
and to dare without murmuring. She contrasted this
with the love of gain, and such an excuse for making
\
530 OUR ARMY NURSES
no further donations. " Yoii rich men are living at
your ease here in Milwaukee, dressed in your broad-
cloth, knowing- so little of the sufferings of these
soldiers writhing in pain, cold, hungry, many of
them finally meeting death, — and all that you and
your little ones, your wealth and your homes, may
be saved to a future republic. Shame on you,
cowards ! " The Chamber of Commerce was not
prepared to be thus rebuked. They reconsidered
their action, and made an appropriation.
Though Mrs. Bickerdyke was always neat and
cleanly in her dress, she was indifferent to its
attractions; and amid the flying sparks from open
fires her calico dress would take fire, and was often
full of little holes. Some one asked if she were not
afraid of being burned. " Oh," she replied, " my
boys put me out!" With her clothing in this
condition she visited Chicago late in the summer
of 1863. The ladies replenished her wardrobe, and
soon after sent her a box of nice clothing for her own
use. Some of the articles were richly trimmed,
among them two nightgowns. She traded off the
most of the articles Avith the rebel women of the
])lace for eggs, butter, and other good things for her
sick soldiers. She was soon to go to Cairo, and she
thought the nightgowns would sell for more there;
but on her way, in one of the towns on the Mobile
and Oliio Railroad, she found two soldiers who had
been discharged from the hospitals before their
wounds were healed. The exertion of travel had
opened them afresh. They were in an old shanty,
OUR ARMY NURSES. ^31
bleeding, hiingiy, penniless. Mrs. Bickerdyke took
them at once in hand, washed their wounds, stopped
the flow of blood, tore off the bottoms of the night-
gowns and used them for bandages. Then as'^the
men had no shirts she dressed them in the fine night-
gowns, ruffles, lace, and all. They demurred a little,
but she told them if any one spoke about it, to say
they had been in Seceshville.
Some soldiers in fresh uniforms waited upon her,
one sunny morning, and tendered her a review. She
smilingly consented, donned her sun-bonnet, and per-
mitted herself to be stationed in a rude, elevated
position. Then the fine old cows who had supplied
them with milk filed past her. Each one had been
smoothly curried, their horns had been ])olished, and
their hoofs blackened. The favorites were decked
with little flags, and a lively march was played as the
<iueer procession filed past. Many of these cows had
marched a long distance with the army. They were
a treasure to Mrs. Bickerdyke, as she could make
custards and other delicacies for her sick soldiers.
This boyish prauk, ''The Cows' Review," was a
pleasant incident which she greatly enjoyed.
When the army was ordered to Washington for
the grand review, and the soldiers realized that they
were soon to meet the loved ones at home, they
l)ecame as light-hearted as boys, and the march
from Alexandria was a joyous one. Mrs. Bicker-
dyke accompanied them, i-iding her glossy horse.
She wore a simple calico dress and a large sun-
bonnet. She crossed the Long Bridge in advance
532 OUR ARMY NURSES.
of the 15th Army Corps, and was met by Dorothy
Dix and others, who came to welcome her to the
capital. This was a triumph snch as few Avomen
have ever achieved; and during the weeks follow-
ing she was everywhere treated with great i-espect
and consideration.
The calico dress and snnbonnet Avere sold for one
hundred dollars, and preserved as relics of the Rebel-
lion. This money she spent at once, for " the boys
needed so many things."
At last the great war was over. Peace Avas
declaimed, and the j^ation aAvoke to the fact that it
had on its hands a mighty ai-m}^, — A^ictoj-ious, it is
true, but with many of the men destitute, and bearing
the marks of the four years' struggle. In a short
tim@ that army disappeared in a manner that has been
the Avonder of every nation.
But where had they gone, and under Avhat circum-
stances? Those soldiers could never be anything
but " her boys " to Mother Bickerdyke, and she
could not desert them noAv, Avhen maimed, and
broken in health and fortune, they must go back
to the old homes, or wander about in search of
new ones. From that time until the present day
she has been constantly interested for their welfare.
In the old ^N'ew England homestead, in the sunny
valleys of California, or on Western prairies, Avher-
ever the soldiers have made their homes, the name of
Mother Bickerdyke will be spoken with reverential
love, until her boys are mustered out, and their
tongues are silent in death.
OUR ARMY NURSES. 533
She is now eighty-two years old, and very smart
for one of that age. She keeps a secretary to
conduct her large corresiDondence, coming from
soldiers in all parts of the country.
^Her son, Prof. J. B. Bickerdyke, lives in Russell,
Ivansas, and with him his honored mother finds a
pleasant retreat in which to pass the sunset of her-
long and useful life.
534
OUR ARMY NURSES.
HELEN GILSON.
3
y^ELE^ L. GILSO^, of Chelsea, Mass., had
been for several years head assistant in the
Phillips School in Boston, bnt ill health ol)liged
^-^ her to leave it. She had been teaching the
children of Frank B. Fay, Mayor of Chelsea. On
the breaking out of the wai- she had an ardent desire
to become an army nurse, but did not succeed until
June, 18G2, when she took a position on one of the
hospital boats of the Sanitary Commission, just after
the evacuation of 1 orktown. She continued on hos-
pital boats between White House, Fortress Monroe,
Harrison Landing, and Washington. She reached
the field of Antietam, Sept. 18, 1862, a few hours
after the battle, and remained there and at Pleasant
Valley till the wounded had been gathered into gen-
eral hospitals. In November and December, 1862,
she worked in the camps and hospitals near Fred-
ericksburg, at tlie time of Burnside's campaign. In
the spring of 1863 she was again at that point, at
the battle of Chancellors ville, and in the Potomac
Creek Hospital. When the army moved she joined
it at Manassas ; but finding that her special diet sup-
j^lies had been lost on the passage, she returned to
Washington, and went on to Gettysburg, arriving a
few hours after the last day's fight. She worked here
till the wounded had been sent to Base Hospital. In
October, JN^ovember, and December, 1863, she worked
536 OUR ARMY NURSES.
in the hospitals on Folly and Morris Islands, Sonth
Carolina, when General Clilmore was besieging Fort
Sumter. Early in 1864: she joined the army at
Brandy Station, and in May went with the Auxiliary
Corps of the Sanitary Commission to Fredericksburg,
when the battle of the Wilderness was being- fouo^ht.
AVm. Howell Reed, of Boston, who joined the Auxil-
iary Corps at this point, in his Avork " Hospital Life
in the Army of the Potomac," thus describes the
condition of things at Fredericksburg: —
"The buildings were rapidly appropriated by the
medical director as temporary hospitals, including
public edifices, private dwellings, storehouses, sheds,
and churches. But the wounded were arriving in
such numbers that man}^ were laid on the streets and
sidewalks to wait for shelter, five hundred in one
train being laid out in the open field. One of the
buildings taken was the Marie Mansion."
It was here he first met Miss Gilson, and he thus
described the meeting: —
"One afternoon just before the evacuation, when
the atmosphere of our rooms Avas close and foul, and
all Avere longing for a breath of our cooler Northern
air, Avhile the men were moaning in pain or Avere
restless Avith fcA^er, and our hearts Avere sick Avith
pity for the siifiierers, I heard a light step upon the
stairs ; and looking u]) I saw a young lady enter, Avho
brought Avith her such an atmosphere of calm and
cheerful courage, so much freshness, such an expres-
sion of gentle, Avomanly sympathy, that her mere
presence seemed to revive the drooping spirits of the
tv
OUR ARMY NURSES. 537
men, and to g-ive a new power of endurance through
the long and painful hours of suffering. First with
one, then at the side of another, a friendly word here,
a gentle nod and smile there, a tender sympathy with
each prostrate sufierer, a sympathy which could read
in his eyes his longing for home love, and for the
presence of some absent one, — in those few minutes
hers was indeed an angel ministry. Before she left
the room she sang to them, — first some stirring
national melody, then some sweet or plaintive hymn,
to strengthen the fainting heart, — and I remember
how the notes penetrated to every part of the build-
ing:. Soldiers with less severe wounds, from the
rooms above, began to crawl out into the entries, and
men from below ci'ept up on their hands and knees,
to catch every note, and to receive of the benediction
of her presence — for such it was to them. Then
she went away. 1 did not know who she was, but I
was as much moved and melted as any soldier of
them all. This is my fii'st reminiscence of Helen L.
Gilson."
It became necessary to evacuate the town, and the
wounded were sent away. The steamei-, wi<^h the last
of the wounded and the members of the Auxiliary
Corps, left just in season to escape the guerrillas, who
came into the town. Mr. Keed says : " As the boat
passed down the river the negroes, by instinct, came
to the banks and begged, by every gesture of appeal,
not to pass them by. At Port Royal they flocked in
such numbers that a Government barge was appro-
priated to their use. A thousand were stowed upon
538 OUR ARMY NURSES.
her decks. They had an evening service of prayer
and song, and the members of the corps went on
board to witness it. When their song had ceased,
Miss Gilson addressed them. She pictured the reahty
of freedom; told them what it meant, and what they
would have to do. Xo longer would there be a mas-
ter to deal out the peck of corn, no longer a mistress
to care for the old people or the children. They
were to work for themselves, provide for their own
sick, and support their owu infii'm ; but all this was
to be done under new conditions. jSTo overseer was
to stand over them with the whip, for their new mas-
ter was the necessity of earning their daily bread.
Very soon new and higher motives would come;
fresh encouragements, a nobler ambition, would grow
into their new condition. Then in the simplest lan-
guage she explained the difference between their for-
mer relations with the then master and their new
relations with the N^orthern people, showing that labor
here was voluntary, and that they could only expect to
secure kind employers by faithfully doing all they
had to do. Then, enforcing truthfulness, neatness,
and economy, she said: —
""^You know that the Lord Jesus died and rose
again for you. You love to sing His praise, and to
di-aw near to Him in prayer. But rememl3er that this
is not all of religion. You must do right, as well as
pray right. Your lives must be full of kind deeds
toward each other, full of gentle and loving affec-
tions, full of unselfishness and truth : this is true piety.
You mu.st make Monday and Tuesday just as good
OUR ARMY NURSES. 539
and pure as Sunday is, remembering that God. looks
not only at your prayers and your emotions, but at
the way you live, and speak, and act, every hour of
your lives.'
"Then she sang this exquisite hymn by Whittier: —
'O, praise an' t'anks, — de Lord he come
To set de people free ;' etc."
After working among the wounded at Cold Har-
bor the boat went on to City Point. Miss Gilson,
with Mrs. General Barlow, at once went to the front
of Petersburg, where the Second and Eighteenth
Corps had been fighting. She returned to the Base
Hospital at City Point, and remained several months.
Mr. Reed tiius describes Miss Gilson's work at the
Colored Hospital at this place : —
"Up to this time the colored troops had taken but
a passive part in the campaign. They were now first
brought into action in front of Petersburg, when the
fighting was so desperately contested that many thou-
sands were left upon the field. The wounded were
brought down rapidly to City Point, where a tempo-
i-ary hospital had been provided. It was, however,
in no other sense a hospital, than that it was a depot
for wounded men. There were defective manage-
ment and chaotic confusion. The men were neglected,
the hospital organization Avas imperfect, and the mor-
tality Avas in consequence frightfully large. Their
condition was horrible. The severity of the cam-
paign in a malarious country had prostrated many
540 OUR ARMY NURSES.
with fevers, and typhoid, in its most malignant forms,
was raging with increasing fatahty.
" These stories of suffering reached Miss Gilson
at a moment when the previous hibors of the cam-
paign had nearly exhausted her strength; but her
duty seemed plain. There were no volunteers for the
emergency, and she prepared to go. Her friends
declared that she could not survive it; but replying
that she could not die in a cause more sacred, she
started out alone. A hospital had to be created, and
this required all the tact, finesse, and dijDlomacy of
which a woman is capable. Official prejudice and
professional pride had to be met and overcome. A
new policy had to be introduced, and it had to be
done without seeming to interfere. Her doctrine and
practice always were, instant, silent, and cheerful
obedience to medical and disciplinary orders, without
any qualification whatever ; and by this she overcame
the natural sensitiveness of the medical authorities.
"A hospital kitchen had to be organized upon her
method of special diet ; nurses had to learn her way,
and be educated to their duties; while cleanliness,
order, system, had to be enforced in the daily routine.
Moving quietly on with her work of renovation, she
took the responsibility of all changes that became
necessary; and such harmony prevailed in the camp
that her policy was vindicated as time rolled on.
The rate of mortality Avas lessened, and the hospital
was soon considered the best in the department.
This was accomplished by a tact and energy Avhich
sought no praise, but modestly veiled themselves be-
OUR ARMY NURSES. 541
hind the orders of officials. The management of her
kitchen was like the ticking of a clock, — regular
discipline, gentle firmness, and sweet temper always.
The diet for the men was changed three times a day;
and it was her aim to cater as far as possible to the
appetites of individual men. Her daily rounds in the
wards brouo'ht her into personal intercourse with
every patient, and she knew his special need. At
one time nine hundred men were supplied from her
kitchen."
"The nurses looked for Miss Gilson's word of
praise, and labored for it ; and she had only to sug-
gest a variety in the decoration of the tents to stimu-
late a most honorable rivaliy among them, which
soon opened a wide field for displaying ingenuity and
taste, so that not only was its standard the highest,
but it was the most cheerfully picturesque hospital
at City Point.
" This Colored Hospital service was one of those
extraordinary tasks, out of the ordinary course of
army hospital discipline, that none but a woman
could execute. It required more than a man's power
of endurance, for men fainted and fell under the
burden. It required a woman's discernment, a wo-
man's tenderness, a woman's delicacy and tact; it
required such nerve and moral force, and such execu-
tive power, as are rarely united in any woman's charac-
ter. The simple grace with which she moved about
the hospital camps, the gentle dignity with which she
ministered to the suffering about her, won all hearts.
As she passed through the wards the men would
542 OUR ARMY NURSES.
follow her with their eyes, attracted by the grave
sweetness of her manner ; and when she stopped by
some bedside, and laid her hand npon the forehead
and smoothed the hair of a soldier, speaking some
cheering, pleasant word, I have seen the tears gather
in his eyes, and his lip qniver, as he tried to speak or
to tonch the fold of her dress, as if appealing to her
to listen while he opened his heart about the mothei',
wife, or sister far away. I have seen her in her sober
gray flannel gown, sitting motionless by the dim
candle-light, — which was all onr camj) conld afford, —
with her eyes open and Avatchfnl, and her hands ever
ready for all those endless wants of sickness at
night, especially sickness that may be tended nnto
death, or nnto the awfnl struggle between life and
death, which it was the lot of nearly all of ns at some
time to keep watch over until the danger had gone
by. And in sadder trials, when the life of a soldier
whom she had watched and ministered to was trem-
bling in the balance between earth and heaven, wait-
ing for Him to make all things new, she has seemed,
by some special grace of the Spirit, to reach the living
Christ, and draw a blessing down as the shining Avay
was opened to the tomb. And I have seen such
looks of gratitude from weary eyes, now brightened
by visions of heavenly glory, the last of many recog-
nitions of her ministry. Absorbed in her work, un-
conscious of the spiritual bea'uty which invested her
daily life, — whether in her kitchen, in the heat and
overcrowding incident to the issues of a large special
■diet list, or sitting at the cot of some poor lonely
OUR ARMY NURSES. 543
soldier, whispering of the higher reahties of another
world, — she was always the same presence of grace
and love, of peace and benediction. I have been
with her in the wards where the men have craved
some simple religions service, — the reading of Scrip-
tnre, the repetition of a psalm, the singing of a hymn,
or the offering of a prayer, — and invariably the men
were melted to tears by the tonching simphcity of
her eloquence.
" These were the tokens of her ministry among the
sickest men; but it was not here alone that her in-
fluence was felt in the hospital. Was there jealousy
in the kitchen, her quick penetration detected the
cause, and in her gentle way harmony was restored ;
was there profanity among the convalescents, her
daily presence and kindly admonition or reproof,
with an occasional glance which spoke her sorrow
for such sin, were enough to check the evil ; or w as
there hardship or discontent, the knowledge that she
was sharing the discomfort too, was enough to com-
pel patient endurance until a remedy could be pro-
vided. And so through all the war, from the seven
days' conflict ui)on the Peninsula, in those early
July days of 1802, through the campaigns of
Antietam and Fredericksburg, of Chancellorsvihe
and Gettysburg, and after the conflicts of the
Wilderness, and the fierce and undecided battles
which were fought for the possession of Richmond
and Petersburg, in 1864 and 1865, she laboi-ed stead-
fastly on until the end. Through scorching heat and
pinching cold, in the tent or upon the open field, in
544 OUR ARMY NURSES.
the ambulance oi' on the saddle^ throngh rain and
snow, amid nnseen perils of the enemy, nnder tire
upon the field, or in the more insidious dangers of con-
tagion, she worked quietly on, doing her simple part
with all womanly tact and skill, until now the hospi-
tal dress is laid aside, and she rests, with the sense
of a noble work done, with the blessing and prayers
of hundreds whose sufferings she has relieved or
whose lives she has saved, being,
' In the great history of the hind,
A noble type of good
Heroic womanhood.'"
From City Point she went to a hospital at Rich-
mond, after the evacuation, and remained until
June, 18G5.
During the following years, she spent some months
in Richmond, working among the colored and white
schools, but with declining health she returned to
Massachusetts, and died in April, 1868, and was
buried in AVoodlawn Cemetery, Chelsea. A beauti-
ful monument with an appropriate inscrij^tion was
erected over her grave by the soldiers, which is
decorated each year liy Grand Army Posts and
Women's Relief C<jrps.
OUR ARMY NURSES.
545
< Ul
546
OUR ARMY NURSES.
wm
^te?#'>-2-l
(
W^-f^:
'OHX B. MARSH, a prisoner in Yicksburg
Jail, had been forced into the Kebel army,
and hi an attempt to join the Union forces
was recaptnred, and condemned to be shot.
Just before his execution he managed to get the fol-
lowing note into the hands of a Union soldier : " If
you reach our lines have this put into the Northern
papei'S so that my father, the Rev. Leonard Marsh,
who lives in Maine, may know what has become of
me. I am to be shot for defending my country. I
love it, and am willing to die for it. Tell my parents
I am happy in the Lord. My future is bright."
One of the guards said that after young Marsh
was placed in position, he was told that he could
speak if he desired to do so. Looking calmly over
the crowd for a moment he cried in strong, clear
tones, "Three cheers for the flag and the Union!"
There was no response from the croAvd, Avho watched
him with almost breathless interest, as, standing fear-
lessly before them, he faced the muskets that in a few
seconds of time should prove the key that would un-
lock to him the doors of eternity, and shouted
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" The volley struck
him m the breast, and the beating of that noble,
patriotic heart was stilled forever.
547
548
OUR ARMY NURSES.
In that calm world whose peopling is of angels,
Those I called mine still live and wait for nie :
They cannot redescend where I lament them ;
]\Iy earthbound grief no pitying angel shares,
And in their peaceful and immortal dwelling
Nothing of me can enter but my prayers !
If this be so, then, that I may be near them,
Let me still pray unmurmuring, niglit and day.
God lifts us gently to His world of glory.
E'en by the love we feel for things of clay,
Lest iu our wayward hearts we should forget Him,
And forfeit so the mansion of our rest.
He leads our dear ones forth, and bids us seek them
In a far-distant home, among the blest.
So we have guides to heaven's eternal city ;
And when our wandering feet would backward stray,
The faces of our dead arise in brightness.
And fondly beckon to the holier way."
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