Woman's Work in the Civil War Part 56

MRS. MARGARET BOYER, a native of Philadelphia, the wife of a sea-captain, but in very humble circ.u.mstances, and advanced in years, was also one of the faithful untiring workers of the Union Saloon, but like Mrs. Lowry, lost her health by her care of the Gettysburg wounded, and those from the great battles of Grant's Campaign.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MRS. MARY B. WADE.

Eng^d. by A.H. Ritchie.]

MRS. PRISCILLA GROVER and MRS. GREEN, both women about sixty years of age, were constant in their attendance and remarkably faithful in their services at the Saloon. Our record of these remarkable women of advanced age would be incomplete did we omit MRS. MARY GROVER, MRS. HANNAH SMITH, MRS. SARAH FEMINGTON and MISS SARAH HOLLAND, all n.o.ble, persevering and efficient nurses, and strongly attached to their work. Nor were the younger women lacking in skill, patience or activity. Mrs. Ellen B.

Barrows, wife of the Chairman of the Saloon, though blessed with more ample means of usefulness than some of the others, was second to none in her untiring energy and persistency in the discharge of her duties both in the hospitals and the Saloon. Mrs. Eliza J. Smith, whose excessive labors have nearly cost her her life, Mrs. Mary A. Ca.s.sedy, Mrs. Kate B.

Anderson, Mrs. Mary E. Field, Mrs. Emily Mason, Mrs. Anna A. Elkinton and Mrs. Hannah F. Bailey were all notable women for their steady and efficient work in the hospitals and Saloon. Of Mrs. Mary W. Lee and her daughter, Miss Amanda Lee, we have spoken elsewhere.

Miss Catharine Bailey, Mrs. Eliza Helmbold, Mrs. Mary Courteney, Mrs.

Elizabeth Horton and Misses Grover, Krider and Field were all useful and active, though their duties were less severe than those we have previously named.

The Cooper Shop Saloon was smaller and its work consequently less severe, yet, as we have seen, the labors of Miss Ross in its hospital proved too severe for even her vigorous const.i.tution, and she added another to the long list of blessed martyrs in the cause of liberty.

Others there were in that Saloon and hospital, who, by faithful labor, patient and self-denying toil, and great sacrifices, won for themselves an honorable place in that record which the great day of a.s.size shall reveal. We may not know their names, but G.o.d knows them, and will reward them for their deeds of mercy and love.

MRS. R. M. BIGELOW.

In the ordinary acceptation of the term, Mrs. Bigelow has not been connected with Soldiers' Homes either in Was.h.i.+ngton or elsewhere; yet there are few if any ladies in the country who have taken so many sick or wounded soldiers to their own houses, and have made them _at home_ there, as she. To hundreds, if not thousands, of the soldiers of the Army of the Potomac, the name of "Aunty Bigelow," the t.i.tle by which she was universally known among the sick and wounded soldiers, is as carefully, and quite as gratefully cherished as the name of their commanders. Mrs. Bigelow is a native of Was.h.i.+ngton, in which city she has always resided. She was never able, in consequence of her family duties, to devote herself exclusively to hospital work, but was among the first to respond to the call for friendly aid to the sick soldier.

She was, in 1861, a daily visitor to the Indiana Hospital in the Patent Office Building, coming at such hours as she could spare from her home duties; and she was always welcome, for no one was more skillful as a nurse than she, or could cheer and comfort the sick better. When she could not come, she sent such delicacies as would tempt the appet.i.te of the invalid to the hospital. Many a soldier remembers to this day the hot cakes, or the mush and milk, or the custard which came from Aunty Bigelow's, on purpose for him, and always exactly at the right time.

Mrs. R. K. Billing, a near relative of Mrs. Bigelow, and the mother of that Miss Rose M. Billing whose patriotic labors ended only with her life--a life freely sacrificed for the relief of our poor returned prisoners from Andersonville, as related in our sketch of the Annapolis Hospital Corps,--was the co-laborer of her kinswoman in these labors of love. Both were indefatigable in their labors for the sick soldiers; both knew how to make "that bread which tasted exactly like mother's" to the convalescent soldier, whose feeble appet.i.te was not easily tempted; and both opened their houses, as well as their hearts to these poor suffering invalids, and many is the soldier who could and did say: "I don't know what would have become of me if I had not met with such good friends."

Mrs. Bigelow became, ere long, the almoner of the bounty of many Aid Societies at the North, and vast quant.i.ties of supplies pa.s.sed through her hands, to the patients of the hospitals; and they were always judiciously distributed. She not only kept up a constant correspondence with these societies, but wrote regularly to the soldier-boys who had been under her care, after they returned to their regiments, and thus retained her influence over them, and made them feel that somebody cared for them, even when they were away from all other home influences.

Besides these labors, which were seemingly sufficient to occupy her entire time, she visited continually the hospitals about the city, and always found room in her house for any sick one, who came to her begging that he might "come home," rather than go to a boarding-house or to a hospital. Three young officers, who came to her with this plea, were received and watched over till death relieved them of their sufferings, and cared for as tenderly as they could have been in their own homes; and those who came thither were nursed and tended till their recovery were numbered by scores.

To all the hospital workers from abroad, and the number was not few, her house was always a home. There was some unappropriated room or some spare bed in which they could be accommodated, and they were welcome for the sake of the cause for which they were laboring. Had she possessed an ample fortune, this kindness, though honorable, might not have been so noteworthy, but her house was small and her means far from ample. In the midst of these abundant labors for the soldiers, she was called to pa.s.s through deep affliction, in the illness and death of her husband; but she suffered no personal sorrow to so absorb her interest as to make her unmindful of her dear hospital and home-work for the soldiers. This was continued unfalteringly as long as there was occasion for it.

Few, if any, of the "Women of the War," have been or have deserved to be, more generally beloved by the soldiers and by all true hospital-workers than Mrs. Bigelow.

MISS SHARPLESS AND a.s.sOCIATES.

What the Hospital Transport service was under the management of the Sanitary Commission, we have elsewhere detailed, and have also given some glimpses of its chaotic confusion, its disorder and wretchedness under the management of government officials, early in the war. Under the efficient direction of Surgeon-General Hammond, and his successor, Surgeon-General Barnes, there was a material improvement; and in the later years of the war the Government Hospital Transports bore some resemblance to a well ordered General Hospital. There was not, indeed, the complete order and system, the thorough ventilation, the well regulated diet, and the careful and systematic treatment which marked the management of the great hospitals, for these were to a considerable extent impossible on s.h.i.+pboard, and especially where the changes of patients were so frequent.

For a period of nearly seventeen months, during the last two years of the war, the United States Steams.h.i.+p Connecticut was employed as a hospital transport, bringing the sick and wounded from City Point to Was.h.i.+ngton and Baltimore, and later, closing up one after another, the hospitals in Virginia and on the sh.o.r.es of Maryland and Delaware, and transferring their patients to convalescent camps or other hospitals, or some point where they could be put _en route_ for home. On this steams.h.i.+p Miss HATTIE R. SHARPLESS commenced her labors as matron, on the 10th of May, 1864, and continued with only a brief intermission till September 1st, 1865. She was no novice in hospital work when she a.s.sumed this position. A native and resident of Bloomsburg, Columbia County, Pa., she had first entered upon her duties as nurse in the Army in July, 1862, when in connection with Miss Rose M. Billing and Miss Belle Robinson, the latter being also a Pennsylvanian, she commenced hospital work at Fredericksburg. Subsequently, with her a.s.sociate, she was at the Falls Church Hospital and at Antietam, and we believe also at Chancellorsville and Gettysburg. She is a lady admirably adapted to the hospital-work; tender, faithful, conscientious, unselfish, never resting while she could minister to the suffering, and happiest when she could do most for those in her care. During her service on the Connecticut, thirty-three thousand sick and wounded men were conveyed on that steamer to hospitals in Was.h.i.+ngton, Alexandria, Baltimore and other points.

Constant and gentle in the discharge of her duties, with a kind and if possible a cheering word for each poor sufferer, and skillful and a.s.siduous in providing for them every needed comfort so far as lay in her power, she proved herself a true Christian heroine in the extent and spirit of her labors, and sent joy to the heart of many who were on the verge of despair.

Her religious influence upon the men was remarkable. Never obtrusive or professional in her treatment of religious subjects, she exhibited rare tact and ability in bringing those who were in the possession of their reason and consciousness to converse on their spiritual condition, and in pointing them affectionately to the atoning Sacrifice for sin.

In these works of mercy and piety she was ably seconded by her cousin, Miss Hattie S. Reifsnyder, of Catawissa, Columbia County, Pa., a lady of very similar spirit and tact, who was with her for about eight months; and subsequently by Mrs. Cynthia Case, of Newark, Ohio, who succeeded Miss Reifsnyder, and entered into her work in the same thorough Christian spirit.

Miss W. F. HARRIS is a native, and was previous to the war, a resident of Providence, Rhode Island. She was a faithful worker through the whole war, literally wearing herself out in the service. She commenced her work at the Indiana Hospital, in the Patent Office, Was.h.i.+ngton, in the spring of 1862. After the closing of that hospital, she transferred her service to Ascension Church Hospital, and subsequently early in 1863, to the Carver Hospital, both in Was.h.i.+ngton, where she labored with great a.s.siduity and faithfulness. Early in May, 1864, she was appointed to service on the Transport Connecticut, where she was indefatigable in her service, and manifested the same tender spirit, and the same skill and tact, as Miss Sharpless. Of less vigorous const.i.tution than her a.s.sociates, she was frequently a severe sufferer from her over exertions. In the summer of 1864, she was transferred to the Hospital at Harper's Ferry, and at that hospital and at Winchester continued her service faithfully, though amid much pain and weariness, to the close of the war. Though her health was much shattered by her labors she could not rest, and has devoted herself to the instruction and training of the Freedmen from that time to the present. A gentleman who was a.s.sociated with her in her service in the Carver Hospital and afterward on the Transport Connecticut, says of her: "I know of no more pure-minded, unselfish and earnest laborer among all the Women of the war that came under my notice."

PART VI.

LADIES DISTINGUISHED FOR OTHER SERVICES IN THE NATIONAL CAUSE.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ANNIE ETHERIDGE.

H.L. Stephens, Del. John Sartain, Sc.]

MRS. ANNIE ETHERIDGE

No woman attached to a regiment, as _vivandiere_, _cantiniere_, or _fille du regiment_ (we use the French terms because we have no English ones which fully correspond to them), during the recent war, has won so high and pure a renown as Annie Etheridge. Placed in circ.u.mstances of peculiar moral peril, her goodness and purity of character were so strongly marked that she was respected and beloved not only by all her own regiment, but by the brigade division and corps to which that regiment belonged, and so fully convinced were the officers from the corps commander down, of her usefulness and faithfulness in the care of the wounded, that at a time when a peremptory order was issued from the headquarters of the army that all women, whatever their position or services should leave the camp, all the princ.i.p.al field officers of the corps to which her regiment was attached united in a pet.i.tion to the general-in-chief, that an exception might be made in her favor.

The greater part of Annie Etheridge's childhood was pa.s.sed in Wisconsin.

Her father was a man of considerable property, and her girlhood was pa.s.sed in ease and luxury; but as she drew near the age of womanhood, he met with misfortunes by which he lost nearly all he had possessed, and returned to her former home in Michigan. Annie remained in Wisconsin, where she had married, but was on a visit to her father in Detroit at the outbreak of the war, and joined the Second Michigan Regiment when they departed for the seat of war, to fulfil the office of a daughter of the regiment, in attending to its sick and wounded. When that regiment was sent to Tennessee she went to the Third Regiment in which she had many friends, and was with them in every battle in which they were engaged. When their three years' service was completed, she with the re-enlisted veterans joined the Fifth Michigan. Through this whole period of more than four years' service she conducted herself with such modesty and propriety, and was at the same time so full of patriotism and courage, that she was a universal favorite with the soldiers as well as officers.

She was in the skirmish of Blackburn's Ford, and subsequently in the first battle of Bull Run, where she manifested the same courage and presence of mind which characterized her in all her subsequent career in the army. She never carried a musket, though she had a pair of pistols in her holsters, but seldom or never used them. She was for a time during the winter following engaged in hospital service, and when the Army of the Potomac went to the Peninsula, during the Chickahominy campaign she was on a hospital transport with Miss Amy M. Bradley, and rendered excellent service there. She was a very tender and careful nurse, and seemed to know instinctively what to do for the sick and wounded. She returned to Alexandria with her regiment, and was with them at the second battle of Bull Run, on the 29th of August, 1862. Early in this battle she was on a portion of the battle-field which had been warmly contested, where there was a rocky ledge, under shelter of which, some of the wounded had crawled. Annie lingered behind the troops, as they changed position, a.s.sisted several poor helpless fellows to this cover and dressed their wounds. One of these was William ---- of the Seventh New York Infantry, a n.o.ble-looking boy, to whose parched lips she had held the cooling draught, and had bound up his wounds, receiving in return a look of unutterable grat.i.tude from his bright blue eyes, and his faintly murmured "G.o.d's blessing on you," when a shot from the rebel battery tore him to pieces under her very hands. She discovered at the same moment that the rebels were near, and almost upon her, and she was forced to follow in the direction taken by her regiment. On another portion of that b.l.o.o.d.y field, Annie was kneeling by the side of a soldier binding up his wounds, when hearing a gruff voice above her, she looked up and to her astonishment saw General Kearny checking his horse beside her. He said, "That is right; I am glad to see you here helping these poor fellows, and when this is over, I will have you made a regimental sergeant;" meaning of course that she should receive a sergeant's pay and rations. But two days later the gallant Kearny was killed at Chantilly, and Annie never received the appointment, as has been erroneously a.s.serted.

At Chancellorsville on the 2d of May, 1863, when the Third Corps were in such extreme peril, in consequence of the panic by which the Eleventh Corps were broken up, one company of the Third Michigan, and one of the sharp-shooters were detailed as skirmishers. Annie, although advised to remain in the rear accompanied them, taking the lead; meeting her colonel however, he told her to go back, as the enemy was near, and he was every moment expecting an attack. Very loth to fall back, she turned and rode along the front of a line of shallow trenches filled with our men; she called to them, "Boys, do your duty and whip the rebels." The men partially rose and cheered her, shouting "Hurrah for Annie," "Bully for you." This revealed their position to the rebels, who immediately fired a volley in the direction of the cheering; Annie rode to the rear of the line, then turned to see the result; as she did so, an officer pushed his horse between her and a large tree by which she was waiting, thus sheltering himself behind her. She looked round at him with surprise, when a second volley was fired, and a Minie ball whizzing by her, entered the officer's body, and he fell a corpse, against her and then to the ground. At the same moment another ball grazed her hand, (the only wound she received during the war), pierced her dress, the skirt of which she was holding, and slightly wounded her horse.

Frightened by the pain, he set off on a run through a dense wood, winding in and out among the trees so rapidly that Annie feared being torn from her saddle by the branches, or having her brains dashed out by violent contact with the trunks. She raised herself upon the saddle, and crouching on her knees clung to the pommel. The frightened animal as he emerged from the woods plunged into the midst of the Eleventh Corps, when his course was soon checked. Many of the men, recognizing Annie, received her with cheers. As she was now at a distance from her regiment, she felt a strong impulse to see and speak with General Berry, the commander of her division, with whom she was well acquainted.

Meeting an aid, she asked where the General was. "He is not here,"

replied the aid. "He is here," replied Annie; "He is my Division General, and has command on the right to-day. I must see him." The aid turned his horse and rode up to the General, who was near at hand, and told him that a woman was coming up who insisted on seeing him. "It is Annie," said General Berry, "let her come; let her come, I would risk my life for Annie, any time." As she approached from one side, a prisoner was brought up on the other, said to be an aid of General Hill's. After some words with him, and receiving his sword, the General sent him to the rear; and after giving Annie a cordial greeting and some kind words, he put the prisoner under her charge, directing him to walk by her horse. It was her last interview with the brave General. Early the next morning he was slain, in the desperate fight for the possession of the plank road past the Chancellor House. In the neighborhood of the hospital, Annie, working as usual among the wounded, discovered an artillery man badly injured and very much in need of her a.s.sistance. She bound up his wounds and succeeded in having him brought to the hospital.

The batteries were not usually accompanied by surgeons, and their men were often very much neglected, when wounded, as the Infantry Surgeons with their hands full with their own wounded would not, and perhaps could not, always render them speedy a.s.sistance. A year later Annie received the following letter, which was found on the body of a Lieutenant Strachan, of her division, who was killed in one of the early battles of Grant's campaign.

WAs.h.i.+NGTON, D. C., _January_ 14th, 1864.

ANNIE--_Dearest Friend_: I am not long for this world, and I wish to thank you for your kindness ere I go.

You were the only one who was ever kind to me, since I entered the Army. At Chancellorsville, I was shot through the body, the ball entering my side, and coming out through the shoulder. I was also hit in the arm, and was carried to the hospital in the woods, where I lay for hours, and not a surgeon would touch me; when you came along and gave me water, and bound up my wounds. I do not know what regiment you belong to, and I don't know if this will ever reach you. There is only one man in your division that I know. I will try and send this to him; his name is Strachan, orderly sergeant in Sixty-third Pennsylvania volunteers.

But should you get this, please accept my heartfelt grat.i.tude; and may G.o.d bless you, and protect you from all dangers; may you be eminently successful in your present pursuit. I enclose a flower, a present from a _sainted mother_; it is the only gift I have to send you. Had I a picture, I would send you one; but I never had but two, one my sister has; the other, the sergeant I told you of; he would give it you, if you should tell him it is my desire. I know nothing of your history, but I hope you always have, and always may be happy; and, since I will be unable to see you in this world, I hope I may meet you in that better world, where there is no war.

May G.o.d bless you, both now and forever, is the wish of your grateful friend,

GEORGE H. HILL, CLEVELAND, OHIO.

During the battle of Spottsylvania, Annie met a number of soldiers retreating. She expostulated with them, and at last shamed them into doing their duty, by offering to lead them back into the fight, which she did under a heavy fire from the enemy. She had done the same thing more than once on other battle-fields, not by flouris.h.i.+ng a sword or rifle, for she carried neither: nor by waving a flag, for she was never color-bearer; but by inspiring the men to deeds of valor by her own example, her courage, and her presence of mind. On the 1st or 2nd of June, when the Second Corps attacked the enemy at Deep Bottom, Annie became separated from her regiment, and with her usual attendant, the surgeon's orderly, who carried the "pill box" (the medicine chest), she started in search of it, and before long, without being aware of the fact, she had pa.s.sed beyond the line of Union pickets. Here she met an officer, apparently reconnoitering, who told her she must turn back, as the enemy was near; and hardly were the words spoken, when their skirmishers suddenly appeared. The officer struck his spurs into his horse and fled, Annie and the orderly following with all speed, and arrived safe within our lines. As the Rebels hoped to surprise our troops, they did not fire lest they should give the alarm; and to this fact Annie probably owed her escape unscathed.

On the 27th of October, 1864, in one of the battles for the possession of Hatcher's Run and the Boydtown Plank Road, a portion of the Third Division of the Second Corps, was nearly surrounded by the enemy, in what the soldiers called the "Bull Ring." The regiment to which Annie was attached was sorely pressed, the b.a.l.l.s flying thick and fast, so that the surgeon advised her to accompany him to safer quarters; but she lingered, watching for an opportunity to render a.s.sistance. A little drummer boy stopped to speak to her, when a ball struck him, and he fell against her, and then to the ground, dead. This so startled her, that she ran towards the line of battle. But to her surprise, she found that the enemy occupied every part of the ground held a few moments before by Union troops. She did not pause, however, but dashed through their line unhurt, though several of the chivalry fired at her.

So strong was the confidence of the soldiers in her courage and fidelity to her voluntarily a.s.sumed duties, that whenever a battle was to be fought it was regarded as absolutely certain that "Gentle Annie" (so the soldiers named her) would be at hand to render a.s.sistance to any in need. General Birney never performed an act more heartily approved by his entire command, than when in the presence of his troops, he presented her with the Kearny cross.

At the close of the war, though her health had been somewhat shaken by her varied and trying experiences, she felt the necessity of engaging in some employment, by which she could maintain herself, and aid her aged father, and accepted an appointment in one of the Government departments, where she labors a.s.siduously for twelve hours daily. Her army experiences have not robbed her of that charming modesty and diffidence of demeanor, which are so attractive in a woman, or made her boastful of her adventures. To these she seldom alludes, and never in such a way as to indicate that she thinks herself in the least a heroine.