Woman's Work in the Civil War Part 19

The disease did not succ.u.mb at once, as was hoped. She endured extreme illness and la.s.situde during her voyage, and was completely prostrated on her arrival in Paris where she lay three weeks ill, before being able to proceed by railroad to Lucerne, Switzerland, and rejoin her sister who had been some months in Europe, and who, with her family, were to be the traveling companions of Mrs. Tyler. Arrived at Lucerne, she was again prostrated by chills and fever, and only recovered after removal to the dryer climate of Berlin. The next year she was again ill with the same disease after a sojourn among the d.y.k.es and ca.n.a.ls of Holland.

Mrs. Tyler spent about eighteen months in Europe, traveling over various parts of the Continent, and England, where she remained four or five months, returning to her native land in November, 1865, to find the desolating war which had raged here at the time of her departure at an end. Her health had been by this time entirely re-established, and she is happy in the belief that long years of usefulness yet remain to her.

Ardent and fearless in her loyalty to her Government, Mrs. Tyler had ample opportunities, never neglected, to impress the truth in regard to our country and its great struggle for true liberty, upon the minds of persons of all cla.s.ses in Europe. Her letters of introduction from her friends, from Bishop Whittingham and others, brought her into frequent contact with people of cultivation and refinement who, like the ma.s.ses, yet held the popular belief in regard to the oppression and abuse of the South by the North, a belief which Mrs. Tyler even at the risk of offending numerous Southern friends by her champions.h.i.+p, was sure to combat. Like other intelligent loyal Americans she was thus the means of spreading right views, and accomplis.h.i.+ng great good, even while in feeble health and far from her own country. For her services in this regard she might well have been named a Missionary of Truth and Liberty.

One instance of her experience in contact with Southern sympathizers with the Rebellion, we take the liberty to present to the readers of this sketch. Mrs. Tyler was in London when the terrible tidings of that last and blackest crime of the Rebellion--the a.s.sa.s.sination of Abraham Lincoln was received. She was paying a morning visit to an American friend, a Southerner and a Christian, when the door was suddenly thrust open and a fiendish-looking man rushed in, vociferating, "Have you heard the news? Old Abe is a.s.sa.s.sinated! Seward too! Johnson escaped. Now if G.o.d will send an earthquake and swallow up the whole North--men, women, and children, _I_ will say His name be praised!"

All this was uttered as in one breath, and then the restless form, and fierce inflamed visage as suddenly disappeared, leaving horrid imprecations upon the ears of the listeners, who never supposed the fearful tale could be true. Mrs. Tyler's friend offered the only extenuation possible--the man had "been on board the Alabama and was very bitter." But in Mrs. Tyler's memory that fearful deed is ever mingled with that fiendish face and speech.

The next day the Rebel Commissioner Mason, replying to some remarks of the American Minister, Mr. Adams, in the Times, took occasion most emphatically to deprecate the insinuation that the South had any knowledge of, or complicity in this crime.

MRS. WILLIAM H. HOLSTEIN.

At the opening of the war Mrs. Holstein was residing in a most pleasant and delightful country home at Upper Merion, Montgomery County, Pennsylvania. In the words of one who knows and appreciates her well--"Mr. and Mrs. Holstein are people of considerable wealth, and unexceptionable social position, beloved and honored by all who know them, who voluntarily abandoned their beautiful home to live for years in camps and hospitals. Their own delicacy and modesty would forbid them to speak of the work they accomplished, and no one can ever know the greatness of its results."

As Mrs. Holstein was always accompanied by her husband, and this devoted pair were united in this great patriotic and kindly work, as in all the other cases, duties and pleasures of life, it would be almost impossible, even if it were necessary, to give any separate account of her services for the army. This is shown in the following extracts from a letter, probably not intended for publication, but which, in a spirit far removed from that of self-praise, gives an account of the motives and feelings which actuated her, and of the opening scenes of her public services.

"The story of my work, blended as it is, (and should be) so intimately with that of my husband, in his earnest wish to carry out what we felt to be simply a matter of duty, is like an 'oft told tale' not worth repeating. Like all other loyal women in our land, at the first sound and threatening of war, there sprang up in my heart an uncontrollable impulse _to do, to act_; for _anything_ but idleness when our country was in peril and her sons marching to battle.

"It seemed that the only help woman could give was in providing comforts for the sick and wounded, and to this, for a time, I gave my undivided attention. I felt sure there was work for _me_ to do in this war; and when my mother would say 'I hope, my child, it will not be in the hospitals,'--my response was ever the same--'Wherever or whatever it may be, it shall be done with all my heart.'

"At length came the battle of Antietam, and from among us six ladies went to spend ten days in caring for the wounded. But craven-like, I shrank instinctively from such scenes, and declined to join the party.

But when my husband returned from there, one week after the battle, relating such unheard of stories of suffering, and of the help that was needed, I hesitated no longer. In a few days we collected a car load of boxes, containing comforts and delicacies for the wounded, and had the satisfaction of taking them promptly to their destination.

"The _first_ wounded and the _first_ hospitals I saw I shall never forget, for then flashed across my mind, '_This_ is the work G.o.d has given you to do,' and the vow was made, 'While the war lasts we stand pledged to aid, as far as is in our power, the sick and suffering. _We_ have no _right_ to the comforts of _our_ home, while so many of the n.o.blest of our land so willingly renounce theirs.' The scenes of Antietam are graven as with an 'iron pen' upon my mind. The place ever recalls throngs of horribly wounded men strewn in every direction. So fearful it all looked to me _then_, that I thought the choking sobs and blinding tears would never admit of my being of any use. To suppress them, and to learn to be calm under all circ.u.mstances, was one of the hardest lessons the war taught.

"We gave up our sweet country home, and from that date were 'dwellers in tents,' occupied usually in field hospitals, choosing that work because there was the greatest need, and knowing that while many were willing to work at home, but few could go to the front."

From that time, the early autumn of 1862, until July, 1865, Mrs.

Holstein was constantly devoted to the work, not only in camps and hospitals, but in traveling from place to place and enlisting the more energetic aid of the people by lecturing and special appeals.

At Antietam Mrs. Holstein found the men she had come to care for, those brave, suffering men, lying scattered all over the field, in barns and sheds, under the shelter of trees and fences, in need of every comfort, but bearing their discomforts and pain without complaint or murmuring, and full of grat.i.tude to those who had it in their power to do anything, ever so little, for their relief.

Here she encountered the most trying scenes--a boy of seventeen crying always for his mother to come to him, or to be permitted to go to her, till the great stillness of death fell upon him; agonized wives seeking the remains of the lost, sorrowing relatives, of all degrees, some confirmed in their worst fears, some rea.s.sured and grateful--a constant succession of bewildering emotions, of hope, fear, sadness and joy.

The six ladies from her own town, were still for a long time busy in their work of mercy distributing freely, as they had been given, the supplies with which they had been provided. This was eminently a work of faith. Often the stores, of one, or of many kinds, would be exhausted, but in no instance did Providence fail to immediately replenish those most needed.

During the stay of Mr. and Mrs. Holstein in Sharpsburg, an ambulance was daily placed at their disposal, and they were continually going about with it and finding additional cases in need of every comfort. Supplies were continually sent from friends at home, and they remained until the wounded had all left save a few who were retained at Smoketown and Locust Spring Hospitals.

While the army rested in the vicinity of Sharpsburg, scores of fever patients came pouring in, making a fearful addition to the hospital patients, and greatly adding to the mortality.

The party, consisting of Mr. and Mrs. Holstein and a friend of theirs, a lady, remained until their services were no longer required, and then, about the 1st of December, returned home. Busied in arrangement for the collection and forwarding of stores, and in making trips to Antietam, Harper's Ferry, and Frederick City, on similar business, the days wore away until the battle of Fredericksburg. Soon after this they went to Virginia, and entered the Second Corps Hospital near Falmouth. There in a Sibley tent whose only floor was of the branches of the pines--in that little Hospital on the bleak hill-side, the winter wore slowly away. The needful army movements had rendered the muddy roads impa.s.sable. No chaplain came to the camp until these roads were again in good order.

Men sickened and died with no other religious services performed in their hearing than the simple reading of Scripture and prayers which Mrs. Holstein was in the habit of using for them, and which were always gladly listened to.

Just previous to the battle of Chancellorsville, Mrs. Holstein returned home for a few days, and was detained on coming back to her post by the difficulty of getting within the lines. She found the hospital moved some two miles from its former location, and that many of her former patients had died, or suffered much in the change. After the battle there was of course a great accession of wounded men. Some had lain long upon the field--one group for eleven days, with wounds undressed, and almost without food. The rebels, finding they did not die, reluctantly fed them with some of their miserable corn bread, and afterwards sent them within the Union lines.

The site of the hospital where Mrs. Holstein was now stationed, was very beautiful. The surgeon in charge had covered the sloping hill-side with a flouris.h.i.+ng garden. The convalescents had slowly and painfully planted flower seeds, and built rustic arbors. All things had begun to a.s.sume the aspect of a beautiful home.

But suddenly, on the 13th of June, 1863, while at dinner, the order was received to break up the hospital. In two hours the wounded men, so great was their excitement at the thought of going toward _home_, were on their way to Was.h.i.+ngton.

All was excitement, in fact. The army was all in motion as soon as possible. Through the afternoon the work of destruction went on. As little as possible was left for the enemy, and when Mrs. Holstein awoke the following morning, the plain below was covered by a living ma.s.s, and the bayonets were gleaming in the brilliant sunlight, as the long lines were put in motion, and the Army of the Potomac began its northern march.

Mr. and Mrs. Holstein accompanied it, bearing all its dangers and discomforts in company with the men with whom they had for the time cast their lot. The heat, dust, and fatigue were dreadful, and danger from the enemy was often imminent. At Sangster's Station, the breaking down of a bridge delayed the crossing of the infantry, and the order was given to reduce the officers' baggage to twenty pounds.

Then came many of the officers to beg leave to entrust to the care of Mr. and Mrs. Holstein, money and valuables. They received both in large amounts, and had the satisfaction of carrying all safely, and having them delivered at last to their rightful owners.

At Union Mills a battle was considered imminent, and Mrs. Holstein's tent in the rear of the Union army, was within bugle call of the rebel lines. In the morning it was deemed best for them to proceed by railroad to Alexandria and Was.h.i.+ngton, whence they could readily return whenever needed.

At Was.h.i.+ngton, Mr. Holstein was threatened by an attack of malarious fever, and they returned at once to their home. While there, and he still unable to move, the battle of Gettysburg was fought. In less than a week he left his bed, and the devoted pair proceeded thither to renew their services, where they were then so greatly needed.

Mrs. Holstein's first night in this town was pa.s.sed upon the parlor floor of a hotel, with only a satchel for a pillow, where fatigue made her sleep soundly. The morning saw them at the Field Hospital of the Second Corps, where they were enthusiastically welcomed by their old friends. Here, side by side, just as they had been brought in from the field, lay friends and enemies.

Experience had taught Mr. and Mrs. Holstein how and what to do. Very soon their tent was completed, their "Diet Kitchen" arranged, the valuable supplies they had brought with them ready for distribution, and their work moving on smoothly and beneficially amid all the horrors of this terrible field.

"There," reports Mrs. Holstein, "as in all places where I have known our brave Union soldiers, they bore their sufferings bravely, I might almost say _exultingly_, because they were for 'The Flag' and our country."

The scenes of horror and of sadness enacted there, have left their impress upon the mind of Mrs. Holstein in unfading characters. And yet, amidst these there were some almost ludicrous, as for instance, that of the soldier, White, of the Twentieth Ma.s.sachusetts, who, supposed to be dead, was borne, with two of his comrades, to the grave side, but revived under the rude shock with which the stretcher was set down, and looking down into the open grave in which lay a brave lieutenant of his own regiment, declared, with grim fun, that he would not be "buried by that raw recruit," and ordered the men to "carry him back." This man, though fearfully wounded in the throat, actually lived and recovered.

The government was now well equipped with stores and supplies, but Mrs.

Holstein writes her testimony, with that of all others, to the most valuable supplementary aid of the Sanitary and Christian Commissions, in caring for the vast army of wounded and suffering upon this dreadful field.

By the 7th of August all had been removed who were able to bear transportation, to other hospitals. Three thousand remained, who were placed in the United States General Hospital on York Turnpike. The Second Corps Hospital was merged in this, and Mrs. Holstein remained as its matron until its close, and was fully occupied until the removal of the hospital and the dedication of the National Cemetery.

She then returned home, but after rest she was requested by the Sanitary Commission to commence a tour among the Aid Societies of the State, for the purpose of telling the ladies all that her experience had taught her of the soldier's needs, and the best way of preparing and forwarding clothing, delicacies and supplies of all kinds. She felt it impossible to be idle, and however disagreeable this task, she would not shrink from it. The earnestness with which she was listened to, and the consciousness of the good to result from her labors, sustained her all through the arduous winter's work, during which she often met two or three audiences for an "hour and a half talk," in the course of the day.

Her husband as usual accompanied her, and in the spring, with the commencement of Grant's campaign over the Rapidan, they both went forward as agents of the Sanitary Commission.

Through all this dread campaign they worked devotedly. They could not rest to be appalled by its horrors. They could not think of the grandeur of its conceptions or the greatness of its victories--they could only work and wait for leisure to grasp the wonder of the pa.s.sing events. As Mrs. Holstein herself says: "While living amidst so much excitement--in the times which form history--we were unconscious of it all--it was our daily life!"

Of that long period, Mrs. Holstein records two grand experiences as conspicuous--the salute which followed the news of the completion of Sherman's "March to the Sea," and the explosion of the mine at City Point.

With the first, one battery followed another with continuous reverberation, till all the air was filled with the roar of artillery.

The other was more awful. The explosion was fearful. The smoke rose in form like a gigantic umbrella, and from its midst radiated every kind of murderous missile--sh.e.l.ls were thrown and burst in all directions, muskets and every kind of arms fell like a shower around. Comparatively few were killed--many of the men were providentially out of the way.

Until the revelations upon the trial of Wirz, it was supposed to have been caused by an accident, but then men learned that it was part of a fiendish plot to destroy lives and Government property.

The summer of 1864 was noted for its intense heat and dust, but Mr. and Mrs. Holstein remained with the army, absorbed in their work, till November, when Mr. Holstein's health again failed and they went home for rest. It was not thought prudent for them to return, and Mrs. Holstein, still accompanied by him, resumed her travels and spent some time in "talking" to the women and children of the State. She had the satisfaction of establis.h.i.+ng several societies which worked vigorously during the remainder of the war.

In January, 1865, they went to Annapolis to do what they could for the returned Andersonville prisoners, and to learn their actual condition and sufferings that Mrs. Holstein might have a better hold upon the minds of the people, to whom she talked. Let us give these brief allusions to her experiences here, in her own words.

"All of horror I had seen, or known, throughout the war, faded into insignificance when contrasted with the results of this heinous _sin_--a systematic course of starvation of brave men, made captive by the chances of war. * * * My note-book is filled with fearful records of suffering, and hards.h.i.+ps unparalleled, written just as I took the statements from the fleshless lips of these living skeletons. In appearance they reminded me more of the bodies I had seen washed out upon Antietam, and other battle-fields, than of anything else--only _they_ had ceased to suffer and were at rest,--_these_ were still living, breathing, helpless _skeletons_.

'In treason's prison-hold Their martyred spirits grew To stature like the saints of old, While, amid agonies untold, They _starved_ for _me_--and _you_.'

"We remained at Annapolis from January to July, when, the war being closed, the men were mustered out of service. The few remaining were sent to Baltimore, and the hospitals were vacated and restored to their former uses.

"Much of the summer was occupied in unfinished hospital work, and in looking after some special cases of great interest. The final close of the war brought with it, for the first time in all these long years, _perfect rest_ to overtasked mind and wearied body."