# Representative women of New England/Mary P. Von Olnhausen

​MARY PHINNEY VON OLNHAUSEN, who rendered distinguished services as an army nurse in two wars of the closing half of the nineteenth century — the Civil War in America and the Franco-Prussian in Europe — and was one of the two American women upon whom the Emperor William conferred the decoration of honor known as the Iron Cross, was a native of ^Massachusetts, her birthplace being the historic town of Lexington. Born February 4, 1817, daughter of Elias and Catherine (Bartlett) Phinney, she was the fifth in a family of ten children. Her father, Elias Phinney, A.M., (Harv. Coll. 1801), was born in Nova Scotia, whither his parents, Benjamin Phinney and his wife Susanna, had removed from Falmouth, Mass., a few years later coming, as the church reconls testify, to Lexington. He was of the Cape Cod family of Phinney (name sometimes spelled Finney), whose founder, John$^1$ Phiimey, was in Plymouth as early as 1638, and some years later settled in Barnstable. According to "Genealogical Notes of Barnstable Families," by Otis and Swift, the line was continued ​ through the immigrant's son John,’ who mar- ried Mary Rogers in 1664; Benjamin,' who married Martha Crocker; Zaccheus,’ born in 1720, who married Susan Davis; to Benjamin," born in 1744, father of Elias."
Mary Rogers, wife of John^ Phinney, was a daughter of Lieutenant Joseph" Rogers, of Dux- bury, Sandwich, and Eastham, who came over with his father, Thomas' Rogers, in the " May- flower" in 1620 ("Mayflower Descendant," vol. iii. p. 254).
In 1823 Elias Phinney settled on a farm in Lexington, which he brought to a high state of cultivation. For many years and till his death, in 1849, he was Clerk of the Mitldlesex County Courts. He married in 1809 Catherine, daughter of Dr. Josiah and Elizabeth (Call) Bartlett, of Charlestown, Mass. Her paternal grandfather, George Bartlett, a sea-ca]jtain, was a native of Devonshire, England.
Mary Phinney grew to womanhood in her native town, improving her opportunities for learning by attending an academy, and long after leaving school continuing her studies, especially of modern languages, till she became familiar with French, German, and Italian. She likewise cultivated her native talent for original work in drawing, becoming also an expert in embroidery. At the School of Design for women, started in Boston about the year 1852, of which she was one of the early pupils, "she was considered the best designer in the class," being numbered in subsecjuent years with Ellen Robbins and Margaret Foley as among those who had "distinguished themselves in art." This is the testimony of Mrs. Ednah D. Cheney in her "Reminiscences," re- cently published, she having been Miss Little- hale, secretary of the school committee.
For some years she was employetl as designer of prints in one of the large cotton-mills in Manchester, N.H. A German political exile, a baron named Von Olnhausen, was a chemist in the same mill. He had been connected with one of the great German universities, and Theodore Parker designated him as " the most profound scholar he had ever known." His feudal castle, which had been the home of his ancestors from the time of the Crusades, and has been described as "one of the most pictur- esque castles in Saxony, crowning a hill and overlooking the town of Zwickau," had passed into the hands of an alien line. Miss Mary Phinney and Mr. Gustav A. Von Olnhausen were married in Boston by the Rev. Theodore Parker, May 1, 1858. The union was a happy one, but not of long duration, the death of the Baron (to give him his rightful title) occurring September 7, 1860.
Only a few months later began the great Civil War, arousing the patriotism of women and testing the heroism of men. Mrs. Von Olnhausen, deciding to enlist as an army nurse, received a commission through the efforts of Governor Andrew, but was required to pay her own travelling expenses to the South, as the United States government at that time had not sufficient funds for the transportation of additional army nurses. During the four years' conflict she rendered faithful services as a hospital nur.se under the direction of Dorothea L. Dix.
It may here be mentioned that in 1873 she was appointed first superintendent of the train- ing-school for nurses in the Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, a position that she ably filled.
Sailing for Germany in 1870, shortly after the beginning of the Franco-Prussian War, she offered her services to the military authorities there, who were not at first disposed to approve her appointment. After persistent efforts, how- ever, she received a commission as arniy nurse. In this capacity again she had many thrilling experiences, and her services were appreciated as invaluable.
The first of March, 1871, found her in charge of thirty wounded men in a hospital in Orleans, France. Peace had been declared, and an order had been issued for the German soldiers to evacuate France. Some of the wounded, however, were unable to be moved. When the thirty in charge of this faithful nurse no longer neeiled her care, she thought that her duties then were completed, and accordingly made arrangements to depart for Berlin. As she was entering the diligence en route for that city, a surgeon came running from the hospital and entreated her to remain, as sixteen wounded men had just arrived. She did not hesitate, ​ but in the midst of danger promptly resumed her work. The people of Orleans were enraged at the Germans, and the mayor of the city, realizing the danger to "the little Madam," as she was often called, gave her his protection. He acconipanietl her to the hospital every morning at six o'clock, and, when her duties for the day were finisheil, at nine in the evening, he called at the hospital and accompanied her to his home. These duties were continued for more than a month, and then the fifteen men who survived (one of the wounded having died) started on their way to Berlin, in charge of the Madam, by order of the military authorities. They were obliged to halt in secluded places for fear of angry mobs.
An interesting sketch of this journey was given in the Boston Globe, from which the fol- lowing is taken: "It was a strange procession that moved through the streets of Vendome. First came three dump carts, each carrying a n an who had undergone an operation the day before, ami who lay on the straw groaning with every motion. Behind was a diligence, on the floor of which sat a little American woman, surrounded by twelve badly wounded men, three of whom rested their weary heads in her lap.
"It was bitterly cold, and the men were clothed only in their undergarments, with one blanket each. The}^ shivered and whined with the cold. Twice during the day they sto])ped, while their wounds were dressed and refresh- ments were distributed. In the late afternoon they came to a railway station, only to find that the expected ambulance would not arrive until the next day. With great difficulty Madam had her men carried to a half-ruined castle. There they spent the night in the old barracks, which were deserted and forlorn. The rats ran across the bare floors, gusts of wind swept through the lonely corridors. No doors shut out the cold, these having been used for fuel long before.
"First one sufferer and then another cried out with pain and terror. In the midst of it all the little American woman was calm and unterrified. She remained awake the whole night through, comforting her charges. During the next forenoon a messenger came from the station to announce that the ambulance had arrived. The sick soldiers were carried to the train and placed in an empty baggage car, and she was about to follow, when the station agent pulletl her by the arm, saying 'There is no req- uisition for you. The requisition is for a surgeon.' The little Madam drew herself to her full height of five feet, and answering, 'I am a surgeon,' she seized the paper, and signed it in a bold, masculine hand, 'Von Olnhausen.' Then, before any one could interfere, she was in the car.
"The ride to Orleans was a long, cold one. Rain was falling. It dripped through the roof, and she took off her skirt to cover one of the men. When they reached Orleans, the men were removed to a convent. On the way the mobs in the streets kicked mud at them, and even the women howled and swore at them. The sisters of the convent refused to give Madam either food or lodging. The sick men collected a thaler (seventy-five cents), and with this the brave little woman secured a bed at an inn. She was put in a chamber over the bar-room, was kept awake all night by the noise from below, where men howled and sang and cursed the Germans. She ])ulled the bureau and chairs against the door, and spent a night of torture. But her seventy-five cents was not enough for food, and, when she returned at daylight to the convent, the sisters still refused her even a mnvithfiil. She had eaten nothing since noon of the previous day.
"Another nerve-trying trip was made back to the station-house, the mob growing so furi- ous that the little band was hurried into the baggage-room to be out of tlanger. No train was in sight, and the sick men, exhausted by their long journey and discouraged by the delay, cried like children. Little Madam, hungry an(l dishcarteneil as she was, cheered them with war songs and told her most thrilling stories. At noon she went out and demanded footl of the inspector. He loaned her two tlialers, and with this she bought bread and sausages and coffee for the men, who ate and drank every bit, forgetting the twenty-four-hour fast of the stanch-hearted little woman to whose watchful care they owed their lives.
"At four in the afternoon two German offi​cers came and took the little hand on stretchers to the ambulance train, which was waiting a quarter of a mile away. For fear of the mob, gendarmes walked beside the wounded, and they reached the train in safety.
"When the men were made comfortable. Madam asked for food. She declares that the great bowl of oatmeal porridge, thick with prunes, which she received, was the most delicious meal she has ever eaten. When they reached Berlin, the men were ])laced in a hospital, and, thanks to the untiring care of the little American, every one of them recovered." In recognition of these meritorious services Emperor William presented her with the Iron Cross, she and Clara Barton being the only American women to receive that decoration. It is a handsome Maltese cross, of iron with white enamel, the badge of a Prussian order founded in 1813 for military services, and reorganized in 1870. After her return to her native land the Emperor sent her the Medal of Merit, which is the highest honor conferred in Germany for bravery in war, and has been given to no other American, it is said. Unfortunately, the medal was lost in transmission, hut she received the autograph letter written by the Emperor when forwarding the precious gift. During Prince Henry's recent visit to Boston (March, 1902) Mrs. Von Olnhausen, wearing the Iron Cross, was greeted by him most cordially, he expressing his surprise and delight to see the decoration worn by an American woman. "It is a great honor in my country," said he. "Please tell me how you came to receive it." He promised her that upon his return he would see that the Medal of Merit was in her possession, in accordance with his grandfather's wishes. This promise she did not live to see fulfilled. It may be said to have been cancelled by her death, which soon followed, April 12, 1902.
The home of Mrs. Von Olnhausen in her later years was at the Grundmann Studios, Clarendon Street, Boston, where she enjoyed a quiet life with her embroidery work and designing. She was young in spirit, and her host of friends always found a cordial welcome.
They observed her birthdays with gifts and flowers. She was especially interested in Japanese art. She received numerous orders for her work after the interview with Prince Henry, an account of which was widely published. Loyal, patriotic, courageous, unselfish, a lover of art and literature, a friend of humanity, she will he missed by many who enjoyed her friendship and appreciated her worth. Her funeral was held at Mt. Auburn, and was attended by the Massachusetts Army Nurse Association, of which she was a loved member, and in whose meetings she often participated. The Iron Cross was bequeathed by Mrs. Von Olnhausen to the Lexington Historical Society. Her life, compiled from her letters and journals by her nephew, James Phinney Munroe, has recently been published, by Little. Brown & Co., under the title: "Adventures of an Army Nurse in Two Wars."