# The Part Taken by Women in American History/Women Nurses of the Civil War

Women Nurses of the Civil War.
Introduction by Mrs. John A. Logan.
The hospitals established by the Empress Helena in the fifth century were an evidence of Christian feeling; and it was the same Christianity and humanity which actuated Margaret Fuller and Florence Nightingale when in Italy and in the Crimean War they nursed the wounded soldiers. That same Christian spirit sent women, young and old, grave and gay, to the hospitals where our "Boys in Blue" needed their assistance. Bravely they wrought, and often bravely they fell ​ by the side of those whom they nursed—martyrs to the cause of liberty as well as the men who fell in the defense of freedom and the Union. Rev. Doctor Bellows, referring to them and their noble work, said: "A grander collection of women, whether considered in their intellectual or moral qualities, their heads or their hearts, I have not had the happiness of knowing, than the women I saw in the hospitals. They were the flower of their sex. Great as were the labors of those who superintended the operations at home of collecting and preparing supplies for the hospitals and the fields, I cannot but think that the women who lived in the hospitals or among the soldiers required a force of character and a glow of devotion and self-sacrifice of a rarer kind. They were the heroines. They conquered their feminine sensibility at the sight of blood and wounds, lived coarsely and dressed and slept rudely; they studied the caprices of men to whom their ties were simply humane—men often ignorant, feeble-minded, out of their senses, raving with pain and fever; they had a still harder service in bearing with the pride, the official arrogance and the hardness or the folly, perhaps the impertinence and presumption, of half-trained medical men, whom the urgencies of the case had fastened on the service. Nothing in the power of the nation to give or to say can ever compare for a moment with the proud satisfaction which every brave soldier who has ever risked his life for his country ever after carries in his heart of hearts; and no public recognition, no thanks from a saved nation can ever add anything of much importance to the rewards of those who tasted the actual joy of ministering with their own hands and hearts to the wants of our sick and dying men."
It, nevertheless, is to our great regret that only the biographies of those nurses whose services were most conspicuous can be included in this volume. In place of the longer mention ​ of each, which would bring this work to unreasonable length, the following list of these brave women is offered.
Mrs. Eliza C. Porter, of the noble band of western women who devoted kind thought and untiring exertion to the care of our country's defenders.
Mrs. John Harris, the wife of a Philadelphia physician, who was at the front all during the war, and who returned home an invalid for the rest of her life from the effects of a sunstroke, received while in attendance on a field hospital in Virginia.
Margaret Elizabeth Breckenridge, who said at the opening of the conflict, "I shall never be satisfied till I get right into a hospital to live until the war is over," and who fulfilled this lofty ambition in her work in the hospitals in and around St. Louis during all the long and bloody conflict.
Mrs. Stephen Barker, wife of the chaplain of the First Massachusetts Heavy Artillery, who went to the front with her husband and, for nearly two years, continued in unremitting attendance upon the regimental hospitals.
Amy M. Bradley who, having gone South to seek her own health, remained during the four years of the war, nursing her fellow-countrymen of the North.
Mrs. Arabella G. Barlow, of New Jersey, sealed her devotion to her country's cause by the sublimest sacrifice of which woman is capable, and after nursing her wounded husband until his death, remained to care for the other soldiers until she died of fever contracted while in attendance in the hospitals of the army of the Potomac.
​ Mrs. A. H. and Miss S. H. Gibbons,
Mrs. E. J. Russell,
Mrs. Mary W. Lee,
Miss Cornelia M. Tompkins,
Mrs. Anna C. McMeens,
Mrs. Jerusha R. Small,
Mrs. S. A. Martha Canfield,
Mrs. E. Thomas and Miss Morris,
Mrs. Shepard Wells,
Mrs. E. F. Wetherell,
Phebe Allan,
Mrs. Edward Greble,
Miss Isabella Fobb,
Mrs. E. E. George,
Mrs. Charlotte E. McKay,
Mrs. Fanny L. Ricketts,
Mrs. John S. Phelps,
Mrs. Jane R. Munsell,
Mrs. Adeline Tyler,
Mrs. Wm. H. Holstein,
Mrs. Cordelia A. P. Harvey,
Mrs. Sarah R. Johnston,
Emily E. Parsons,
Miss Cornelia Hancock,
Mrs. Mary Morris Husband, (Granddaughter of Robert Morris, the great financier of the Revolutionary War).
Katharine Prescott Wormeley,
The Misses Woolsey,
Anna Maria Ross,
Mary J. Safford,
Mrs. Lydia G. Parish,
Mrs. Anna Wittenmeyer,
Miss Melcenia Elliott,
Mary Dwight Pettes,
Mrs. Elmira Fales,
Louisa Maertz,
Mrs. Harriet R. Colfax,
Miss Clara Davis, (afterwards the wife of Rev. Edward Abbott, of Cambridge),
Mrs. R. H. Spencer,
Mrs. Harriet Foote Hawley, (the wife of Brevet Major-General Hawley, late Governor of Connecticut, and afterwards U. S. Senator from Connecticut),
Ellen E. Mitchell,
Miss Jessie Holmes,
Miss Vance and Miss Blackmar,
Hattie Dada,
Susan A. Hall,
Mrs. Sarah P. Edson,
Maria M. C. Hall.
All these women are mentioned as heroic and efficient nurses in "Women's Work in the Civil War," and to that book the reader must be commended for further knowledge of them. ​ Besides those whose names have been published in books there were many more—school teachers—who spent their vacations in the hospitals, and women who were content to be the angels of mercy to the suffering soldiers, but whose names have not been scattered far and wide, though their labors were appreciated. As someone has said: "The recording angel, thank Heaven, knows them all," and, "their labor was not in vain in the Lord." Surely the women of that portion of the last century given over to the war are women of whom the nation may well be proud, and whose memories should be cherished.
When the war was over there was still work for the women to do in training the freedmen, and especially their children; and the noble women who had been nurses, and many who had not, enlisted in this philanthropic and trying enterprise with the same zeal and self-sacrifice that had been shown by the women in the hospitals. They wrought also among the families of the soldiers and among the refugees who were homeless and destitute while war devastated the land. The niece of the poet Whittier was among them, bearing a name sacred to all lovers of freedom, because John G. Whittier's lyrics had so earnestly pleaded for the freedom of the slaves. Anna Gardner was a teacher of colored children on her native island of Nantucket when the Abolitionists were ostracized. She taught one of the first normal schools ever established for colored girls, and doubtless gave invaluable service in training the negroes of the South to become teachers for their own race.
After long years of silence, the American Tract Society at last gave the meed of praise to Christian effort without regard to race or color, when it published its sketch of Mary S. Peake, a free colorecl woman, who was the first teacher of her race at Fortress Monroe.
Mrs. Frances D. Gage, a woman of Ohio birth, but of ​ New England parentage, in her writings dealt powerful blows for freedom, temperance and other reforms. She had lived the life of a philanthropist, and when the war broke out she gave voice and pen to the right, speaking, editing and writing. When the Proclamation of Emancipation was issued she freed herself from other cares, and found her mission among the freed slaves. Four of her own boys were in the Union Army, and in the autumn of 1862 she went, without appointment or salary, to Port Royal, where she labored fourteen months. She returned North in 1863 and lectured on her experiences among the freedmen, rousing others to labor for the welfare of the colored race. Her name will live forever among the noble and faithful women who "remembered those in bounds as bound with them," and who cared for the soldier and the freedman, to whom God had already said: "Well done, good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."
Mrs. Lucy Gaylord Powers was another true friend to the soldier and the freedman. Her last active benevolent work was begun in 1863. This was the foundation of an asylum at the capital for the freed orphans and destitute aged colored women, whom the war and the Emancipation Proclamation had thrown upon the country as a charge. But she was in feeble health, and died while on her way to Albany on July 20, 1863.
Maria Rullann, of Massachusetts, proved herself worthy of her kinship to the first secretary of the Board of Education in that commonwealth by her faithful service as a teacher and philanthropist in Helena, Arkansas, and afterward as a teacher in Washington and Georgetown.
Mrs. Josephine Griffin, always an advocate for freedom, was faithful in her nursing during the war, and afterward took charge of the good work in Washington. One of her philanthropic methods was the finding of good places for domes​ tic servants, from time to time taking numbers of them to various northern and western cities, and placing them in homes. The cost of these expeditions she provided almost entirely from her own means, her daughters helping her as far as possible in her noble work.
There were great numbers of other women equally efficient in the freedmen's schools and homes, but their work was mainly under the direction of the American Union Commission, and it is impossible, therefore, to obtain accounts of their labors as individuals. It is all a tale of self-sacrifice and heroism. There were heroic women North and South, and if, as someone has said, "An heroic woman is almost an object of worship," there are many shrines to-day for the devotees of physical and moral heroism to visit in following the history of the good women of the Civil War.
The women of Gettysburg won for themselves a high and honorable record for their faithfulness to the flag and their generosity and devotion to the wounded. Chief among these, since she gave her life for the cause, was Mrs. Jennie Wade, who continued her generous work of baking bread for the army until a shot killed her instantly. A southern officer of high rank was killed almost at the same moment near her door, and his troops hastily constructing a rude coffin, were about to place the body of their commander in it for burial when, in the swaying to and fro of the armies, a Union column drove them from the ground. Finding Mrs. Wade dead, they placed her in the coffin intended for the officer. In that coffin she was buried the next day, followed to the grave by hundreds of tearful mourners, who knew her courage and kindness of heart. The loyal women of Richmond were a noble band, and they never faltered in their allegiance to the flag nor in their sympathy and services to the Union prisoners at Libby, Belle Isle and Castle Thunder. With the aid of twenty-one loyal white men ​ in Richmond they raised a fund of thirteen thousand dollars in gold to aid Union prisoners, while their gifts of clothing, food and luxuries were of much greater value. Moreover, had we space, many pages might be filled with the heroic deeds of noble southern women who believed in the cause for which their husbands stood, and who sacrificed their homes and all that was most dear during the Civil War, and who worked prodigiously trying to contrive ways and means with which to relieve the sufferings which abounded everywhere in the southland. Their improvised hospitals were poorly supplied with the bare necessities for the relief of the sick and wounded. In and out of hospitals, the demands upon the humane were heartrending; but to the very last heroism characterized the women as well as the bravest of the men who fought and died in the cause of the Condederacy.
CLARA BARTON.
By Mrs. John A. Logan.
One of the greatest, if not the greatest woman of the nineteenth century, is Clara Barton, who, in a Christmas greeting to her legion of friends, writes: "I would tell you that all is well with me; that, although the unerring records affirm that on Christmas Day of 1821, eighty-four years ago, I commenced this earthy life, still, by the blessing of God, I am strong and well, knowing neither illness nor fatigue, disability nor despondency."
Miss Barton is the daughter of Stephen Barton, of North Oxford, Mass., a man highly esteemed in the community in which he dwelt. In early youth he had served as a soldier under General Wayne, the "Mad Anthony" of the early days of the Republic. His boyish years had witnessed the evacua​ tion of Detroit by the British in 1796, and his military training may have contributed to the sterling uprightness of his character and his inflexible will. His daughter Clara was the youngest, by seven years, in a family of two brothers and three sisters. She was early taught that the primeval benediction, miscalled a curse, which requires mankind to earn their bread, was really a blessing. Besides domestic duties and a very thorough public school training, she learned the general rules of business by acting as clerk and bookkeeper for her eldest brother. Next, she betook herself to the district school, the stepping-stone for all aspiring women in New England. She taught for several years in various places in Massachusetts and New Jersey.
​ A brief summary of her career will show that an ever-ruling Providence had destined her for a higher and nobler work for mankind than the routine duties—noble as they are— of a teacher in the public schools.
While in Washington, a friend and distant relative, then in Congress, voluntarily obtained for her an appointment in the Patent Office. There she continued until the fall of 1857. She was employed at first as a copyist and afterwards in the more responsible work of abridging original papers and preparing records for publication, and the large circle of friends made while so employed was not without its influence in determining her military career.
Thus it happened that at the beginning of the Civil War she was in Washington. When news came that the troops, on their way to the Capital, under Mr. Lincoln's first call for volunteers in 1861, had been fired upon, and that wounded men were lying in Baltimore, she volunteered, with others, to go and care for them. Unconsciously she had entered upon what proved to be her life work, for Clara Barton is to the American battlefield what Florence Nightingale was to the English in Crimea. From April, 1861, to the close of the war, Miss Barton was, by authority of President Lincoln and Secretary Stanton, to be found in the hospitals or wherever soldiers were in need of attention, and 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 hindrances and "red tape." So many of her pupils had volunteered in the first years of the war that at the second battle of Bull Run she found seven of them, each of whom had lost an arm or a leg.
She met the wounded from Virginia, she was present at the battles of Cedar Mountain, second Bull Run, Falmouth, Charleston, Fort Wagner, Spottsylvania, Deep Bottom, Antietam and Fredericksburg, and was for eight months at the ​ siege of Charleston, at Fort Wagner, in front of Petersburg and at the Wilderness. She was also at the hospitals near Richmond and on Morris Island. Neither were her labors over when the war ended. A friend desiring that the world should know her actual connection with the government during this period of strife, as well as throughout her administration as head of the Red Cross, has induced Miss Barton to tell the story in her own inimitable way, and this is what she says:
"When in the four years of this work the military authorities unquestioningly provided me transportation, teams, men and an open way to every field in the service, it had something to do with the government.
"When, at its close, the President, over his own signature, 'A. Lincoln,' informed all the people of the United States that I would, voluntarily, search for the records of eighty thousand missing men, of whom the government nor army had any record, and asked the people to write me, it had something to do with the government."
The editor cannot resist the temptation to insert Mr. Lincoln's letter:
"To the friends of missing prisoners : Miss Clara Barton has kindly offered to search for the missing prisoners of war. Please address her at Annapolis, Md., giving name, regiment and company of any missing prisoner. A. LINCOLN."
This brought the heartbroken correspondence of the friends of all missing soldiers to her, and placed on the records of the government the names of twenty thousand men who, otherwise, had no record of death, and to-day their descendants enjoy the proud heritage of an ancestor who died honorably in the service of his country, and not the possible suspicion of his being a deserter.
"When, in the search, I learned the true condition of the ​ dead at Andersonville, and informed the authorities that, through the death records of Dorence Atwater, the graves of the thirteen thousand buried there could be identified, and was requested by the Secretary of War, Edwin M. Stanton, to take an expedition to Andersonville to mark the graves and inclose a cemetery, and did so, it had something to do with the government.
"Without this there could have been no cemetery of Andersonville, which the government now so worthily owns as a gift from our active women of the Woman's Relief Corps auxiliary to the Grand Army of the Republic.
"And when, in this long search for the missing men of the army, carried on at my own cost until I had invested the greater part of my own moderate means and the brave thirty-seventh Congress stepped into the breach and, unsolicited, voted remuneration and aid in the sum of fifteen thousand dollars, and sent it to me with thanks, it had something to do with the government.
"When a few years later, weary and weak from the war-sacked fields of Europe, I brought the germs of the thrice-rejected Red Cross of Geneva, and with personal solicitations from the 'International Committee' sought its adoption, I had very little to do with the government, for it steadily declined to have anything to do with me, or with the cause I brought to it.
"It had been 'officially declined'—books of the State Department were produced to show this—'we wanted no more war,’ neither 'Entangling Alliances.’
"Then followed five years of toil, cost and explanations with the people as well as the government to show that the Red Cross could mean neither war nor entangling alliances; and when at length one martyred President promised and a successor made his promise good, and Congress again acted and the treaty was signed, proclaimed and took its place among ​ the foremost treaties of the country, and we became thenceforth and forever a Red Cross nation, it surely had something to do with the government.
"But this treaty covered only the relief of suffering from war, and realizing the far greater needs we might have in the calamities of civil life, I personally addressed the governments through the 'International Committee of Geneva,' asking their permission for the American Red Cross to act in our national calamities, as in war. This request was gravely (considered in the congress of Berne, and was granted by the powers as the American Amendment to the International Treaty of Geneva. Inasmuch as it became a law, under which all nations act to-day, it might be said not only to have had something to do with the government but with all governments.
"Later on, when another martyred President requested and opened the way for me to take the Red Cross to the starving reconcentrados of Cuba; and a little later, when war desolated its fields, to take ship, join the fleet, and seek an entrance for humanity, and the highest admiral in the service bade it go alone with its cargo of food to the starving of the stricken city, and Santiago lay at our feet, it might be said it had something to do with the government.
"During the twenty or more years of such efforts was mingled the relief of nearly an equal number of fields of disaster, none of which were unserved, and for which relief, not one dollar in all the twenty years was drawn from the treasury of the United States; the munificence of the people through their awakened charities was equal to all needs."
The fields of disaster were the Michigan forest fires of 1881; Mississippi River floods and cyclone of 1882-3; Ohio and Mississippi River floods of 1884, especially disastrous, requiring relief for thousands of people; Texas famine, 1885; Charleston earthquake catastrophe, 1886; the Mt. Vernon, 1ll., cyclone, ​ 1888, which swept away almost the entire town, leaving the people destitute and homeless; Florida yellow-fever, 1888; Johnstown disaster, where Miss Barton personally distributed $250,000.00 and spent months laboring- in the field for and with the stricken people in 1889; Russian famine, 1892; Pomeroy, Iowa, cyclone, 1893; South Carolina Islands hurricane and tidal wave of 1893-4; Armenia massacres, 1896; Cuban reconcentrado relief, 1889-1900, where Miss Barton and her staff spent months among these absolutely destitute and suffering people before the declaration of war, saving thousands of lives, establishing orphan asylums and hospitals, a work which claimed the highest commendation from Senator Proctor, of Vermont, on the floor of the Senate, after he had visited the island to know positively the conditions; Spanish-American War.
Miss Barton having in 1908 preceded the army and the navy by many weeks on the chartered steamer "State of Texas" loaded with medical, surgical, sanitary and other supplies, was prepared to save many lives before the government bad anything ready, Galveston storm and tidal wave 1909, requiring unprecedented strength and courage, patience and expenditure of money.
​ Miss Barton reached Havana, February 9, 1898. February 14th she was the guest of honor of Captain Sigsbee on board the "Maine," the captain paying her the compliment of reviewing the men. With characteristic thoughtfulness, she placed the Red Cross at the service of Captain Sigsbee, should any of his brave men be sick or need relief. On the night of the 15th of February, the unspeakable calamity of the destruction of the "Maine" occurred. In the early morning of the 16th, Miss Barton and her nurses visited the Spanish Hospital, San Ambrosia, where the brave marines were dying in great numbers. Miss Barton had gone to Cuba to carry out her mission as President of the Red Cross. She was in no way assisted by the government but used her own money. The citizens of Davenport, Iowa, wired her twelve hundred dollars to be used for the reconcentrados. This sum she diverted from its intended purpose and used for the relief of the victims of this unprecedented catastrophe. The official reports of officers of the navy and Secretary of War gratefully thank Miss Barton and the Red Cross workers for their timely service and supplies in the absence of any provision of the government for war or for such a disaster as that of the "Maine."
Miss Barton represented the United States at the International Congress, at Geneva, in 1884; at Carlsruhe, Germany, 1887. At Rome, Italy, in 1890, she was appointed but would not leave her work in Russia at the time of the Russian famine, but did attend the Congress at Vienna, Austria, in 1900.
Miss Barton was decorated with the Iron Cross of Prussia, by Emperor William I and Empress Augusta, in 1871; with the Gold Cross of Remembrance, by the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Baden, in 1870; with the medal of International Committee of the Red Cross of Geneva, Switzerland, 1882; with the Red Cross, by Queen of Servia, 1884; with the silver medal by Empress Augusta, of Germany, 1884; with the flag ​ voted by Congress of Berne, Switzerland, 1884; with jewels by the Grand Duchess of Baden, 1884-87; with the diploma of honor from German War Veterans, 1885; with jewels by the Queen of Prussia, 1887; with the diploma of honor from Red Cross of Austria, 1888; with diploma and decoration by the Sultan of Turkey, 1896; with diploma and decoration by the Prince of Armenia, 1896; with diploma and decoration by Spain, 1899; with vote of thanks by the Cortez of Spain, 1899; with vote of thanks by the Portuguese Red Cross, 1900; with resolutions of the Central Relief Committee of Galveston, Texas, 1900; with vote of thanks from the legislature of the state of Texas, 1901; and with the decoration of the Order of the Red Cross by the Czar of Russia, 1902.
Press notices, eulogies, enrolled and engrossed resolutions innumerable, and every other conceivable tribute has been paid her by her own countrymen, who are and were her compatriots and who revere her as the most self-sacrificing, loyal, upright, honorable, patriotic, courageous woman of her time, and as a woman who has known no creed, political or religious, that is not founded upon the Golden Rule and universal humanity to mankind; whose moral courage has been equal for all emergencies, but who is at the same time as guileless and as loving and as tender as a child. Her masterful mind has ever instantly grasped the most subtle schemes of designing persons, but she has turned the other cheek to the cruel thrusts of the envious and ambitious. Her only fault has ever been lack of resentment and self-assertion when injuries have been inflicted. Her motto has been, "Father forgive them; they know not what they do."
Time moves, and at last Clara Barton reached her Gethsemane, and she proved her greatness in the hour of her bitterest trial. She let her detractors have their way, bowed her head and slipped away without a murmur into retirement, ​ unrewarded and uncared for by a great government in whose service she has given the best of her life and her all. And who shall say she is not the greatest woman of the Nineteenth century? Is there another with such a record of noble achievements for humanity? No other woman has appeared, bearing the banner of the Red Cross, and personally ministering to the suffering on the field of disaster, though many calamities have occurred since Clara Barton was driven from the work to which she was divinely called.
MRS. MARY ASHTON RICE LIVERMORE.
Mrs. Livermore was born in Boston, Massachusetts, December 19, 1821. Her father, Timothy Rice of Northfield, Massachusetts, who was of Welsh descent, served in the United States Navy during the War of 1812-1815. Her mother, Zebiah Vose Glover Ashton, was the daughter of Captain Nathaniel Ashton, of London, England. Mrs. Livermore was placed in the public schools of Boston at an early age and was graduated at fourteen, receiving one of the six medals distributed for good scholarship. There were 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 Washington, D. C, where she completed the four-years' course in two, and was then elected a member of the faculty as teacher of Latin and French. While teaching she continued her studies in Latin and Greek, resigning her position at the close of the second year to take charge of a family school on a plantation of southern Virginia, where she remained nearly three years. As there were between three or four hundred slaves on the estate Mrs. Livermore was brought face to face with the institution of slavery and witnessed deeds of barbarism as tragic as any described in Uncle Tom's Cabin. She returned to the North a radical abolitionist and henceforth entered the lists against slavery and every form of oppression. In 1857 the Livermores removed to Chicago, Illinois, where Mr. Livermore became proprietor and editor of a weekly religious paper, the organ of the Universalist denomination in the Northwest, and Mrs. Livermore became his assistant editor. At the first nomination of Abraham Lincoln for the presidency in the Chicago Wigwam in i860, she was the only woman reporter assigned a place among the hundred or more men reporters.
Out of the chaos of benevolent efforts evolved by the opening of the Civil War in 1861, the United States Sanitary Commission was born. Mrs. Livermore with her friend, Mrs. Jane C. Hoge, was identified with relief work for the soldiers from the beginning. She resigned all positions save that on her husband's paper, secured a governess for her children and subordinated all demands upon her time to those of the commission. She organized soldiers' aid societies; ​ delivered public addresses in the principal towns and cities of the Northwest; wrote the circulars and bulletins and monthly papers of the commission; made trips to the front to the 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 establishments; detailed women nurses for the hospitals by order of Secretary Stanton and accompanied them to their posts. In short, the story of Mrs. Livermore's work during the war has never been told and can never be understood save by those who worked with her. The war over, Mrs. Livermore resumed the even tenor of her life, took up again philanthropic and literary work, which she had temporarily relinquished. She afterwards left Chicago and returned to pass long years in her home in Melrose, Massachusetts, happy in the society of her husband, children and grandchildren, until her death in 1905. She was ever ready with advice, pen and influence to lend a helping 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.
MOTHER BICKERDYKE.
The following is Mother Bickerdyke's own concise account of her services to the nation: "I served in our great Civil War from January 9, 1861, to March 20, 1865. I did the work of one and tried to do it well. I was in nineteen hard-fought battles in the departments of the Ohio, Tennessee and Cumberland armies. Fort Donelson, February 15th and 16th, was the first battle to which I was an eye witness; Pittsburgh Landing, April 6th and 7th, the second; luka, September 20th, the third, and Corinth, October 3rd and 4th, the fourth." But certainly the rising generation, to whom the Civil War is already like a half- forgotten story, should know more of the work of this woman for the sake of the patriotism her whole-souled devotion to country and to suffering humanity teaches. After the surrender of Sumter her heart, which had been burdened with a mother's solicitude for the boys she had sent marching away, could no longer endure the dreadful suspense and still more dreadful confirmation of her fears that met her eye as she glanced over the crowded columns of the papers, and she decided to offer her services at the front. Perhaps no single incident in the life of Mrs. Bickerdyke as well as the following portrays her large-heartedness and the motherly care she felt for the wounded soldiers: The victory had been gained at Fort Donelson, and the glad news carried with it great rejoicing. Meanwhile, the soldiers who had won that victory were suffering more than tongue can tell. Their clothes even froze to their bodies, and there were no accommodations for them, so that many hundreds perished wholly without care. The night grew darker and darker, settling down over the deserted field where the dead still lay awaiting burial. The strange weird silence after such a day produced an indescribable feeling of awe. At midnight an officer noticed a light moving up and down among the dead and dispatched a messenger to see what it meant. The man soon returned and told him that it was Mrs. Bickerdyke who, with her lantern, was examining the bodies to make sure that no ​ living man should be left alone amid such surroundings. She did not seem to realize that she was doing anything remarkable, and turning from the messenger continued her search over that awful field simply through her love for humanity. Her work was felt now on the field of battle, now on board a boat caring for a lot of soldiers in transit, now in the hospital. Thus many phases of a soldier's life came under her observation. One night she was making her usual rounds of the wards, the lights were turned down and many of the soldiers were sleeping, while here and there a restless sufferer counted the lagging seconds and longed for morning. Passing along she administered to each as the occasion demanded until one asked, "Aren't you tired, Mother Bickerdyke?" Not for a moment did she think of claiming sympathy, but replied in her usual brusque way: "What if I am, that is nothing. I am well and strong and all I want is to see you so, too." In September a battle was fought at Iuka, and 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 be fatal. When it became necessary to send the wounded, as far as their condition would permit, to Corinth, Mrs. Bickerdyke 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 transportation, soiled clothing and things that were not especially needed were to be left behind. But prudent Mother Bickerdyke had all the articles packed closely, and when she saw that they were to be left behind she exclaimed, "Do you suppose that we are going to throw away those things that the daughters and wives of our soldiers have worked so hard to give us? I will just prove that they can be saved and the clothes washed. Just take them along." And the order was obeyed. She was always planning for more and better food for her sick boys. Fresh eggs and milk were supplied in scant quantities and were very poor at that. So just as spring was changing to 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. As soon as she made her plans known in Jacksonville, 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 Memphis was heralded by the lowing of cows and the sprightly song of hens. Mother Bickerdyke's cows became a well-known feature on many battlefields. One morning some soldiers in fresh uniforms waited upon her to tender her a review. She smilingly consented, donned her sunbonnet and permitted herself to be stationed on a rudely elevated platform. The fine cows that had supplied them with milk filed past her. Each one had been smoothly curried, her horns polished and her hoofs blackened. The favorites were decked with little flags and a lively march was played as the queer 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 prank, "The Cows' Review," was a pleasant incident which she greatly enjoyed. Another incident of her thrift has a touch of humor in it. Though Mrs. Bickerdyke was always ​ neat in her dress she was indifferent to its attractiveness and amid flying sparks from open fires her calico dress would take fire, and was full of little holes. Someone asked her if she were not afraid of being burned. She replied, "My boys put me out." With her clothing in this condition she visited Chicago late in the summer of 1863. The women immediately 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 most of the articles with the rebel women of the place for eggs, butter and other good things for her sick soldiers, but she was soon to go to Cairo, and she thought the nightgowns would sell for more there. On her way, however, in one of the towns on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad she found two soldiers who had been discharged from the hospital before their wounds had healed. The exertion of travel had opened them afresh. They were in an old shanty bleeding, hungry and penniless. Mrs. Bickerdyke took them at once in hand, washed their wounds, stopped the flow of blood, tore off the bottoms of the gowns and used them for bandages. Then, as the men had no shirts she dressed them in the fine nightgowns, ruffles, lace and all. They demurred a little but she commanded them as their superior officer to obey, and they could only join in the hearty laugh with which she suddenly transformed them into two dandies and sent them on their way.
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 recapture Corinth and attack the defense, October 3, 1862. 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. Toward evening Mother Bickerdyke 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 minutes, but refused. So the worn-out men were passing the hospital when a strong voice cried "Halt." Instinctively 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, and it was found that the time lost was more than compensated for 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 no one else would do it. That her interference was deeply appreciated was shown by the many letters and visits she received from these same men at the close of the war. When the army was ordered to Charleston for the grand review, and the soldiers realized that they were soon to meet the loved ones at home, they became as light-hearted as boys, and the march from Louisiana was a joyous one. Mrs. Bickerdyke accompanied them, riding her glossy horse. She wore a simple calico dress and as always a large sunbonnet. She crossed the Long Bridge in advance of the Fifteenth Army Corps and was met by Dorothea Dix and others who came to welcome her to the Capital. This was a triumph such as few women have ever attained, and during the weeks following she was everywhere treated with the greatest respect and consideration. The calico dress and sunbonnet were sold for one hundred dollars, and preserved as relics of the Rebellion. This money she spent ​ at once, "for the boys need so many things." At last war was over. Peace was declared, and the nation awoke to the fact that it had a mighty army on its hands. In a short time that army disappeared in a miracle that has been the wonder of every nation, and Mother Bickerdyke, the most picturesque of all war nurses, retired to the home of her son, Professor J. B. Bickerdyke, in Russell, Kansas, and there in that pleasant retreat came the sunset of her most helpful life.
AMANDA FARNHAM FELCH.
Amanda M. Colburn was born in West Dover, Vermont, November 12, 1833. Her father was a farmer in moderate circumstances and having only one son a share in the outdoor work was often given to the daughter. This early training 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 long marches where hundreds of men were overcome, as during Peninsula, Gettysburg and other campaigns. At about twenty-three years of age she was first married, and it was as Mrs. Farnham that she was so well known in the Army of the Potomac in the summer of 1861. After the war she was married to M. P. Felch. 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 Third Vermont Regiment, and her parents were in pitiful anxiety for his welfare. The daughter's decision was instantaneous. She left her child with her parents and followed her brother to the front, and enlisted at St. John's July 5, 1S61. She was enrolled as a member of the regiment and appointed hospital matron. They were mustered in on July nth, left the state on the twenty-third, arrived in Charleston on the twenty-sixth and the next day went six miles up the river to Camp Lyon near Chain Bridge. And here began Mrs. Farnham's duty as soldiers' nurse. During the following winter sickness and death from disease assumed such alarming proportions that a special corps of noted physicians was sent for to aid the medical officers then in the field, and with them Mrs. Farnham worked almost constantly. In December, 1861, she was dropped from the pay roll as matron of the third, but she still continued her work, and until the Wilderness campaign in 1864, occupied a different position from any other army nurse. She did not do regular war 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 until the crisis was passed or death had relieved the patient of his suffering. The day after the battle of Antietam she arrived on the field where everything was confusion and where no supplies were at hand, and immediately went to work among the wounded. Nothing illustrated better the resourcefulness and clear-headedness of this remarkable woman than the surgical operation which she performed in an emergency here. A soldier had been stricken in the right breast by a partly spent ball with force enough to follow around the body under the skin, stopping Just below the shoulder blade. As quick as thought, taking the only implement she had, a pair of sharp buttonhole scissors, and pinching the ball up with the thumb and finger she made an incision and pressed the ball out, thus putting on record through ​ feminine resourcefulness the quickest case of bullet probing on record. Living, directing and always alone on the battlefields she had of course many thrilling adventures. 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. And it so happened that during the battle of Chancellorsville she had an unusual amount of money, which she carried in a belt on her person, with other keepsakes of value in a handbag. After getting into quarters on the Unionists' 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 mattress. Perhaps this was all seen in her shadow on the tent cloth by someone watching for that purpose. She had just fallen asleep when she became conscious that someone was trying to get in. The flap-strings had been strongly knotted and tied tightly around the pole so that plan was abandoned 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 dark and return later. He proceeded with his evil errand, cutting a long slit in the tent to reach through. Up to the time when the knife began its work the brave nurse had not realized how serious was her situation; now she hesitated no longer, but aiming as well as she could in the darkness fired. An exclamation, and the sound of hurried footsteps, were all she heard. The next morning news came that one of the new recruits was sick, having been wounded by the "accidental discharge of a pistol in the hands of a chum," and Mrs. Farnham did not ask to have the case investigated. After the battle of Chancellorsville, when the army had to retreat to its old camp, Mrs. Farnham used to keep a horse and team to take along supplies on the march. When in camp the boys could easily procure for themselves what they needed but on the march they often suffered severely. Such articles as shirts, socks, etc., coffee, sugar, condensed milk and canned goods Mrs. Farnham carried in her wagon and gave where most needed. It is now a simple matter of history that the Sixth Corps marched from Manchester to Gettysburg from daylight until 4 p. m., and it was the greatest feat in marching ever accomplished by any troops under like conditions. Mrs. Farnham went with them most of the way on foot, giving up the spare room on her wagon to worn-out soldiers, who could not find room in the crowded ambulances. She was in Fredericksburg on the ninth of May, 1864, where the weary Union troops were lying, and here for about the first time she was a regular army nurse. Appointed by Miss Dorothea Dix she so remained until discharged in June, 1865. Mrs. Farnham used to tell with quiet humor of her first interview with Miss Dix. From the time she entered the army, Mrs. Farnham had worn a dress similar to that so recently designed for the woman aviator—full pants buttoning from the top of her boots, skirts falling a little below the knees and a jacket with full sleeves. This dress she had on when she called to present her papers of 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 abominable, a most abominable dress, and I do not wish one of my nurses to dress in that manner; ​ but you came highly recommended and I have long known of your work. But I did not know you wore such a dress. However, you can wear it if you choose." Then she wrote the order for Mrs. Farnham to report at Fredericksburg. From that time until the war closed she was one of Miss Dix's trusted nurses and was charged with duties and commissions at the front that she would trust to no one else. Although they met many times when Mrs. Farnham wore the same dress it was not mentioned again.
HELEN L. GILSON.
Helen L. Gilson, of Chelsea, Mass., had been for several years head assistant in the Phillips School in Boston. But ill health obliged her to leave it. She then went to teach the children of her uncle, Frank B. Fay, Mayor of Chelsea. Mr. Fay from the commencement of the war took the most active interest in the national cause, devoting his time his wealth and his personal efforts to the welfare of the soldiers. Influenced by such an example of lofty and self-sacrificing patriotism, and with her own young heart on fire with love for her country, Miss Gilson from the very commencement of the war gave herself to the work of caring for the soldiers first at home and afterward in the field. When Mr. Fay commenced his personal services with the army of the Potomac Miss Gilson wishing to accompany him applied to the Government superintendent of female nurses for a diploma, but as she had not reached the required age she was rejected. This, however, did not prevent her from fulfilling her ardent desire of administering to the sick and wounded. In June, 1862, she took a position on one of the hospital boats of the sanitary commission just after the evacuation of Yorktown. She continued on hospital boats between White House, Fortress Monroe, Harrison Landing and Washington. She reached the field of Antietam September 18, 1862, a few hours after the battle and remained there and at Pleasant Valley till the wounded had been gathered into general hospitals. In November and December, 1862, she worked in the camps and hospitals near Fredericksburg at the time of Burnside's campaign. In the spring of 1863, she was again at that point at the battle of Chancellorsville and in the Potomac Creek Hospital. Early in 1864, she joined the army at Brandy Station, and in May went with the auxiliary corps of the Sanitary Commission to Fredericksburg, where the battle of the Wilderness was being fought. Amidst the terrible scenes of those dreadful days the perfect adaptability of Miss Gilson to her work was conspicuous. Whatever she did was done well and so noiselessly that only the results were seen. When not more actively employed she would sit by the bedside of the suffering men and charm away their pain by the magnetism of her low calm voice and soothing touch. She sang for them and leaning over them where they lay amidst all the agonizing sights and sounds of the hospital ward, and even upon the field of carnage, her voice would ascend in petition for peace, for relief, for sustaining grace in the brief journey to the other world transporting their souls into the realms of an exalted faith.
As may be supposed Miss Gilson exerted a remarkable personal influence over the wounded and sick soldiers as well as upon all those with whom she ​ was brought in contact. They looked up to her, reverenced and almost worshiped her. She had their entire confidence and respect. Even the roughest of them yielded to her influence and obeyed her wishes. It has been recorded by one who knew her well that she once stepped out of her tent, before which a group of men were fiercely quarreling, having refused with oaths and vile language to carry a sick comrade to the hospital at the request of one of the male agents of the commission, and quietly advancing to their midst renewed the request as her own. Immediately every angry tone was still, their voices were lowered and modulated respectfully; their oaths ceased and quietly and cheerfully without a word of objection they lifted their helpless burden and tenderly carried him away.
It finally became necessary to evacuate Fredericksburg and the wounded were sent away. The steamer with 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. William Howell Reed of Boston, who had been in charge of the auxiliary corps up to this point wrote of this boat passage as follows: "As the boat passed down the river the negroes by instinct came to the banks and begged us by every gesture of appeal not to pass them by. At Fort Royal they flocked in such numbers that a Government barge was appropriated for their use. A thousand were stowed upon her decks. They had an evening service of prayer and song and the members of the corps attended the weird ceremony. When their song had ceased Miss Gilson addressed them. In the simplest language she explained the difference between their former relations with their old masters and the new relations they were about to assume with the Northern people, explaining that labor in the North was voluntary and that they could only expect to secure kind employers by faithfully discharging their duties. This was the beginning of Miss Gilson's work for the negroes. Her crowning labor was in their hospital at City Point after the battle of Petersburg. The wounded from this battle had been brought down rapidly to City Point where a temporary hospital had been provided. There was defective management and chaotic confusion; the men were neglected, the hospital organization was imperfect, and the mortality was in consequence frightfully large. Conditions were deplorable. The stories of their suffering reached Miss Gilson at a moment when her previous labors of the campaign had nearly exhausted her strength ; but her duty seemed plain. Her friends declared that she could not survive a repetition of her experiences, but replying that she could not die in a cause more sacred she started out alone. That she succeeded in this great work is nothing short of miraculous. Official prejudice and professional pride had to be continually met and overcome. A new policy had to be introduced. Miss Gilson's doctrine and practice were always instant and cheerful obedience to medical and disciplinary orders without question or demur, and by these methods she overcame the natural sensitiveness of the medical authorities. Moving quietly on with her work of renovation, she took the responsibility of all the changes that became necessary, and such harmony prevailed in the camp that her policy was finally completely vindicated. She even established a hospital kitchen upon her own method of special diet, and here cleanliness, order and system had to be in force in the daily routine. This was ​ accomplished by a tact and energy which sought no praise but modestly veiled themselves behind the orders of officials. The management of her kitchen was like the ticking of a clock—regular discipline, gentle firmness and sweet temper always. Her daily rounds in the wards brought her into personal intercourse with every patient and she knew his special need. At one time nine hundred men were supplied from her kitchen.
This colored hospital service was one of those extraordinary tasks out of the ordinary course of 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 woman's tenderness, a woman's delicacy and tact; it required such nerve and such executive power as are rarely united in any woman's character. But Miss Gilson brought all this and more, a woman's sympathy, to her task. As she passed through the wards the men would follow her with their eyes attracted by the grave sweetness of her manner and when she stopped by some bedside and laid her hand upon the forehead and smoothed the hair of a soldier speaking some cheering and pleasant word, tears would gather in his eyes and his lip quiver as he tried to speak or touch the fold of her dress.
These were the tokens of her ministry among the sickest men, and it was not here alone that her influence was felt in the hospital. Was there jealousy in the kitchen? Her quick penetration detected the cause and in her sweet way harmony was restored. Or was there hardship and discontent? The knowledge that she too was enduring the hardship was enough to insure patient endurance until a remedy could be provided. And so through all the war, until after the fierce battles which were fought for the possession of Richmond and Petersburg in 1864 and 1865, she labored steadfastly on through scorching heat and pinching cold, in the tent or upon the open field, in the ambulance or in the saddle, through rain and snow, amid unseen perils of the enemy, under fire upon the field, or in the more insidious danger of contagion she worked on quietly doing her simple part with all womanly tact and skill.
From City Point she went to the hospital at Richmond, and remained there until June, 1865. During the following years she spent some months at Richmond working among the colored and white schools. With declining health, alas, she returned to Massachusetts and died in April, 1868, and was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery, Chelsea. A beautiful monument with an appropriate inscription was erected over her grave by the soldiers, and it is decorated each year by Grand Army posts and Women's Relief Corps.
MARY PRINGLE.
(Mary Breckel)
MARY A. LOOMIS.
When the Civil War broke out she was Mrs. Van Pelt living at Coldwater, Mich., and entered the service with her husband who was one of the first of the volunteer soldiers. She was afterwards appointed matron of the war hospital in Nashville, Tenn., and remained there from September, 1862, until January, 1863. She was also at the hospital at Murfreesboro, Tenn., and at Huntsville, Alabama. In all she was in the hospitals only about a year. But the remainder of the time she was in camp or on the march with her husband. Although he had fallen in the battle of Chickamauga in September, 1863, she continued her work of nursing Union soldiers.
EMMA E. SIMONDS.
Mrs. Simonds was appointed a nurse by Mrs. Hoge and Mrs. Livermore under the authority of Miss Dix, on August 26, 1863, and was assigned to work at once in Memphis, Tenn. Miss Dix in speaking of her work has said, "She was one of the most excellent, most charitable and most truthful in all her expressions of any woman I have ever known." At the close of the war she returned to her home at Iowa Falls. In 1873 she moved to Fayetteville, Arkansas, where she resumed her practice as professional nurse. This work she continued until January, 1892. She died in May, 1893.
MARGARET HAYES.
On the seventeenth day of February, 1863, Margaret Hayes left her home in Mendota, Illinois, for Chicago as a volunteer nurse. Arriving there she went to the Sanitary Commission rooms and was received by Mrs. Livermore, who, as she afterwards told the experience, gave her her commission, put up a lunch, gave her a pillow and a small comfortable, as there were no sleeping cars in those days, procured the transportations and started her that same evening for Memphis, Tennessee. She arrived safely and was immediately assigned to the Adams General Hospital, which had just been opened to receive the sick and wounded from Arkansas. A part of the time she had two wards to care for and when she was ordered from this hospital to another position she was given a gold watch by her "Boys," which she always held as one of her choicest treasures. She was Mrs. Maggie Meseroll then, but was called "Sister Maggie" by all the soldiers who loved her for the care and tenderness she had bestowed upon them.
DR. NANCY M. HILL.
Nancy M. Hill, daughter of William and Harriet Swan Hill, was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Her forefathers were in the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill. She was educated in the public schools at West Cambridge, and at Mt. Holyoke Seminary, South Hadley, Massachusetts. There was a great call for educated women to go as nurses in the hospitals at Washington, ​ and Mrs. Hill volunteered her services there in April, 1863, and remained until August, 1865, after the close of the war. She gave her service without remuneration, since the pay of volunteer nurses was to go into a hospital fund to buy extras for the soldiers which the Government did not provide. When the battles of the Wilderness were going on, all hospital supplies and sanitary stores had been sent to the front and there were none in Washington. Mrs. Hill wrote to her mother about it and the letter was read next morning in four churches. Immediately congregations were dismissed and all went home to return to the Town Hall bringing tablecloths, linen and cotton sheets, the best they had. The women and men worked all day long making and rolling bandages and picking lint. Before nine o'clock that night the nurse's letter from the front had resulted in two large drygoods boxes the size of upright pianos packed with stores and on their way to Washington. After the war hospital closed, Mrs. Hill turned to the study of medicine.
Afterwards she became a medical student at the New England Hospital for Women and Children at Roxbury, Massachusetts. She was graduated at the medical department of Michigan University, Ann Arbor, in the year 1874. She then went to Dubuque, Iowa, and opened an office and carried on a large and active practice for years.
ELIZABETH B. NICHOLS.
Mrs. Nichols entered the service of volunteer nurses at the request of her husband, who wished her to join him in Chicago where his regiment had been sent on exchange after having been taken prisoners at Harper's Ferry. Her determination to get to his bedside immediately after reaching Chicago illustrated the pluck and courage which showed all through her career as Government nurse. She reached that city at two o'clock in the morning, it was three miles to Camp Douglas where the soldiers were quartered. Alone and in the darkness she found the gate of the camp enclosure, but it was closed and she was challenged by sentries. It was only by insistent appeal that the officer in charge allowed her to enter and find her husband. She slept while at this hospital in the baggage room on a couple of blankets and a pillow, and worked all of the next day getting the sick of the camp ready to be taken to the city hospital. Subsequently she accompanied her husband to Washington, and from there she marched with the regiment to Fairfax crossing the Long Bridge. After the main body of troops had gone to the stockade camp, she and her husband remained at Fairfax nearly two weeks with nine sick men. The only facilities they had for cooking were a coffee pot, one mess pan, a spider and the fireplace. But they saved the lives of all of their patients. By the time they reached the front the hospital was full of men sick with typhoid fever and other maladies, and Mrs. Nichols passed through scenes which she never forgot. She took what little sleep was allowed her, wrapped in a blanket on a pile of straw. One morning as she was about to enter the hospital the doctor met her with the dreadful news that smallpox had broken out. But so heroic was her effort that out of the eighteen cases which developed only one died. She was also at Gettysburg and later at ​ Philadelphia, where her husband was very ill. As soon as he recovered sufficiently he was ordered to Washington, where with his wife he prepared the food for the invalid corps camp. They stayed there sixteen months, when her husband was honorably discharged from the army, and they went home to live in well-earned peace.
MRS. A. H. HOGE.
Perhaps among all who labored for the soldiers "during the Civil War no name is better known than that of Mrs. A. H. Hoge. She dedicated to the service of her country all that she had to bestow, and became widely known as one of the most faithful and tireless workers; wise in counsel, strong in judgment, earnest in action. She was born in Philadelphia, and was the daughter of George B. Blaikie, Esq., an East India shipping merchant — "a man of spotless character and exalted reputation, whose name is held in reverence by many still living there." Mrs. Hoge was educated at the celebrated seminary of John Brewer, A. M. In her twentieth year she was married to Mr. Hoge a merchant in Pittsburgh, where she lived fourteen years. At the end of that period she moved to Chicago, where she became identified with Mrs. Livermore in her work for the soldiers. Two of her sons entered the army at the very beginning of the war, and she at once began her unwearied personal services for the sick and the wounded. At first she entered only into that work of supply in which so large a portion of the loyal women of the North labored continuously all through the war. The first public act of her life as a sanitary agent was to visit at the request of the Chicago Branch of the United States Sanitary Commission, the hospitals at Cairo, Mound City and St. Louis. The object of these visits was to examine such hospitals as were under the immediate supervision of this branch and report their conditions. This report was made and acted upon and was the means of introducing decided and much-needed reforms into similar institutions.
The value of Mrs. Hoge's counsel and the fruits of her great experience of life were immediately acknowledged. In several councils of women held in Washington she took a prominent part and was always listened to with the greatest respect and attention. When she attended the Woman's Council there in 1862, she was accompanied by her friend and fellow laborer, Mrs. Livermore, and after their return to Chicago they immediately began the organization of the Northwest for sanitary labor, being appointed agents of the Northwestern Sanitary Commission. They devoted their entire time to this work opening a correspondence with the leading women in all the cities and prominent towns of the Northwest. They prepared and distributed great numbers of circulars relating to the necessity of a concentrated effort of the aid societies, and they visited in person many towns and large villages, calling together audiences of women and telling them of the hardships, sufferings and heroism of the soldiers, which they had themselves witnessed, and of the pressing needs of these men, which could only be met by the supplies and work contributed by loyal women of the North. Thus they stimulated the enthusiasm of the women to the highest point, greatly increased the number of aid societies, and taught them how, by ​ systematizing their efforts, they could render the largest amount of assistance to the Sanitary Commission.
By two years "of earnest and constant labor in this field these women succeeded in adding to the packages sent to the Sanitary Commission fifty thousand, mostly gifts directly from the aid societies but in part purchased with money given. In addition to this, over four thousand dollars came into the treasury through their efforts.
Early in 1863, Mrs. Hoge, in company with Mrs. Colt of Milwaukee, at the request of the Sanitary Commission, left Chicago for Vicksburg with a large quantity of sanitary stores. The defeat of Sherman in his assault upon that city had just taken place and there was great want and suffering in the army. The boat upon which these women were traveling was, however, seized as a military transport at Columbus and pressed into the fleet of General Gorman, which was just starting for the forks at the mouth of the White River.
General Fiske, whose headquarters were upon the same boat, gave Mrs. Hoge and Mrs. Colt the best accommodations and every facility for carrying out their work, which proved to be greatly needed. Their stores were found to be almost the only ones in the fleet composed of thirty steamers filled with fresh troops, whose ranks were soon thinned by sickness consequent upon the exposures and fatigue of the campaign. Their boat became a refuge for the sick of General Fiske's brigade, and these women had the privilege of nursing hundreds of men during this expedition, undoubtedly saving many valuable lives.
Early in the following spring, and only ten days after her return to Chicago from this expedition, Mrs. Hoge was again summoned to Vicksburg, opposite which at Young's Point the army under General Grant was lying, engaged, among other operations against this stronghold, in an attempt to dig a canal across the point opposite the fortified city. Scurvy was prevailing to a terrible extent among the men, and they were greatly in need of the supplies Mrs. Hoge brought. She remained here two weeks, her headquarters being upon the sanitary boat, Silver Wave. She received constant support and aid from Generals Grant and Sherman and from Admiral Porter who placed a tug boat at her disposal, in order that she might visit the camps and hospitals, which were totally inaccessible in any other way, owing to the impassable character of the roads during the rainy season. Having made a tour of all the hospitals and ascertained the condition of the sick and of the army generally, she returned to the North and reported to the Sanitary Commission the extent of that insidious army foe, the scurvy. They determined to act promptly and vigorously, and these efforts undoubtedly proved the salvation of a good proportion of the troops.
Again the following June she returned to Vicksburg on the steamer, "City of Alton," which was dispatched by Governor Yates to bring home the sick and wounded Illinois soldiers. She remained until shortly after the surrender which took place on the fourth of July, and during this time visited the entire circle of hospitals as well as the rifle-pits where she witnessed scenes of thrilling interest and instances of endurance and heroism beyond the power of pen to describe.
In the two great sanitary fairs that were held in Chicago, the efforts of ​ Mrs. Hoge were unwearied from the inception of the idea until the close of its successful realization. The admirable conduct of these fairs and the large amounts raised by them are matters of history.
During the continuance of her labors Mrs. Hoge was frequently the recipient of costly and elegant gifts as testimonials of the respect and gratitude with which her work was viewed. The managers of the Philadelphia fair, believing Mrs. Hoge to have had an important connection with that fair, presented to her a beautiful gift in token of their appreciation of her services. During the second sanitary fair in Chicago a few friends presented her with a beautiful silver cup bearing a suitable inscription in Latin, and during the same fair she received as a gift a Roman bell of green bronze of rare workmanship and value as a work of art.
Mrs. Hoge made three expeditions to the army of the Southwest and personally visited and ministered to more than one hundred thousand men in hospitals. Few among the many official workers whom the war called from the ease and retirement of home can submit to the public a record of labors as efficient, varied and long-continued as hers.
MRS. JOHN A. FOWLE.
Of all the women who devoted themselves to the soldiers in the Civil War, perhaps none had a more varied experience than Elida B. Rumsey, a girl so young that Miss Dix would not receive her as a nurse. Undaunted by seeming difficulties she persisted in doing the next best thing, and in becoming an independent nurse she fulfilled her great desire to do something for the Union soldiers. Yet it was not to these alone that her kindly administrations extended, for wherever she saw a soldier in need her ready sympathies were enlisted, little caring if the heart beats stirred a coat of blue or gray.
Miss Rumsey was born in New York City, June 6, 1842, and at the outbreak of the war she was living with her parents in Washington, D. C. She had become engaged to John A. Fowle of Jamaica Plains, Mass., who was employed in the Navy Department at Washington, but devoted all his spare time to philanthropic enterprises. His work and Miss Rumsey's were supplementary from the first. In November, 1861, she began to visit the hospitals and sing to the soldiers who found relief and courage in the tones of her strong sympathetic voice. The "Soldiers Rest" was a name very inappropriately given to a place near the B. & O. R. R. depot, where prisoners were exchanged, or sometimes stayed over night when they had nowhere 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. Someone recognized the young lady and called for a song. To gain time and give her a moment's preparation, Mr. Fowle stepped to her side and said. "Boys, how would you like a song?" "Oh, very well, I guess," came the reply in spiritless tones. She sang the "Red, White and Blue." Soon they crowded around her with more interest than they had shown since leaving the prison. At the close of the song they called for another and piled their knapsacks in front of her 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. When she had finished, those prisoners now restored to their former spirits rent the air with cheer after cheer. From this time on her voice hitherto used only for the enjoyment of her friends was devoted to her country.
One of the first things definitely accomplished was the establishment of a Sunday evening prayer meeting in Columbia College hospital. The room where this was held was crowded night after night. The interest steadily increased until the boys often did double duty in order to be present. 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 back to their former selves and help them feel that they were not forgotten nor alone.
All this time her plans had been assuming outward form. Having received a grant of land from the Government a building was erected and the Soldiers' Free Library founded. Mrs. Walter Baker gave the first hundred dollars and the greater part of the remainder was earned by Miss Rumsey and Mr. Fowle giving concerts, at two of which they had 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 of age. The reading room was modestly fitted up with seats which would accommodate two hundred and fifty persons. It had a melodeon, on which the soldiers practiced at will, and every Wednesday evening regular instruction was given in music and singing by Mr. and Mrs. Fowle. Religious services were conducted by the chaplain twice each Sunday. One room was devoted to the storage of medicine, delicacies, stationery, socks, shirts, etc., and was under the charge of Mrs. Fowle, who filled the knapsack of every convalescent soldier leaving camp from these stores.
The honor paid to Miss Rumsey at the time of her marriage demonstrated the public esteem in which she was held. The ceremony took place in the halls of Congress. A good deal of publicity had been given the affair and the floor and galleries were packed, about four thousand persons being present. The bride, we are told, was dressed in a plain drab poplin, with linen collar and cuffs, and with 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, and the couple were receiving congratulations, a soldier in the gallery shouted, "Won't the bride sing the Star Spangled Banner?" And she did, then and there, in her bridal dress, with never more of fervor in her beautiful voice. President Lincoln had intended to be present, but at the last moment he was detained, and sent a magnificent basket of flowers. On their return from their bridal trip Mr. and Mrs. Fowle resumed their work at Columbia Hospital, but later on they determined to consecrate themselves to the service at the front. Knowing that there would be urgent need and fearful suffering, Mrs. Fowle decided 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 an ambulance. Having no Government pass it was a hazardous undertaking, and she experienced difficulty in getting through the lines. The last guard peremptorily refused to let ​her go any farther, when springing from the ambulance, she fell on her knees before him and begged her way through. Thus while Miss Dix and her faithful nurses were detained three miles away, she was inside the lines and ready for action. When almost on the battlefield they came to a little negro cabin and resolved to use it for a hospital. It was a tiny affair, but on opening the door they found that it was already occupied. A terrified crowd of negroes had sought shelter there. Almost wild with fear, they could scarcely obey the order, "Be oft," but were soon on their way to Washington. The preparation had not been made any too quickly for almost immediately wounded men began to arrive. The little cabin would hold about fifty, and after Mr. Fowle had done what he could for one patient he was removed and another took his place. When the stores had been distributed Mrs. Fowle determined to go in and help care for the wounded. She found the floor completely hidden with blood, but she entered firmly and helped to bind up fearful wounds until the close of that famous Sunday night when the army retreated. Mrs. Fowle carried to her death a scar on her face as a relic of war time, and its story defines her whole attitude during the Civil War. A large carbuncle, the result of blood poisoning while washing wounds on the battlefield, appeared on her cheek. The doctor 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 arms and legs amputated and I can bear it." A chair was placed in one end of the ward and calmly seating herself she looked for a moment at the long rows of cots then told the surgeon to go on. After the close of the war Mr. and Mrs. Fowle resided in Baltimore.