Under Dr. Vanderkieft's supervision, in Sedgwick's corps, there was one of
the noblest self-sacrificing women of the army of the Potomac. This lady
was unwearied in her efforts for the good of the soldiers.
While at Smoketown Hospital, there was a poor, emaciated soldier, whose
weak and pitiable condition attracted her attention. He could retain
nothing on his stomach. Mrs. Lee--for that was the lady--had tried all the
various dishes for which the meagre hospital supplies afforded materials,
but nothing afforded the patient relief and nourishment, until one day, in
overhauling the stores, she found a quantity of Indian corn meal.
"O, I have found a prize," she cried, in delight.
"What is it?" inquired the little fellow detailed as orderly.
"Indian meal," was her reply.
"Pshaw! I thought you had found a bag of dollars."
"Better than dollars. Bring it along." And she hastened away to the tent
where lay her poor patient.
"Sanburn," said she,--for that was the invalid's name,--"could you eat
some mush?"
"I don't know what that is. I don't like any of your fancy dishes."
"Why, it's pudding and milk," said a boy on the next cot.
"O, yes," exclaimed the starving soldier. "I think I could eat a bucket
full of pudding and milk."
Mrs. Lee was not long in giving him an opportunity for the trial. She at
first brought him a small quantity, with some sweet milk, and to her joy,
as well as that of the lean, hungry patient, it suited him. He ate it
three times a day, and recovered. Indeed, the sack of meal was worth more
than a sack of dollars, as she had said.
As strange as this may seem, there are instances on record where very
remarkable, yea, absurd articles of diet have cured where medicine
failed.