Her mother's name was Mary Root, a native of Chester County,

Pennsylvania. Her father was William Ross, who emigrated early in life

from the county of Derry, Ireland. There may have been nothing in her

early manifestations of character to foreshow the noble womanhood into

which she grew. There remains, at any rate, a small record of her

earliest years. The wonderful powers which she developed in mature

womanhood possess a greater interest for those who know her chiefly in

connection with the labors which gave her so just a claim to the title

of "The Soldier's Friend."

Endowed by nature with great vigor of mind and uncommon activity and

energy, of striking and commanding personal appearance and pleasing

address, she had been, before the war, remarkably successful in the

prosecution of those works of charity and benevolence which made her

life a blessing to mankind. Well-known to the public-spirited and humane

of her native city, her claims to attention were fully recognized, and

her appeals in behalf of the needy and suffering were never allowed to

pass unheeded.

"I have little hope of success," she said once to her companion, in

going upon an errand of mercy: "yet we may get one hundred dollars. The

lady we are about to visit is not liberal, though wealthy. Let us pray

that her heart may be opened to us. Many of my most earnest prayers have

been made while hurrying along the street on such errands as this." The

lady gave her three hundred dollars.

On one occasion she was at the house of a friend, when a family was

incidentally mentioned as being in great poverty and affliction. The

father had been attacked with what is known as "black small pox," and

was quite destitute of the comforts and attentions which his situation

required, some of the members of his own family having left the house

from fear of the infection. The quick sympathies of Miss Ross readily

responded to this tale of want and neglect. "While God gives me health

and strength," she earnestly exclaimed, "no man shall thus suffer!" With

no more delay than was required to place in a basket articles of

necessity and comfort she hastened to the miserable dwelling; nor did

she leave the poor sufferer until he was beyond the reach of human aid

forever. And her thoughtful care ceased not even here. From her own

friends she sought and obtained the means of giving him a respectable

burial.

The lady to whom the writer is indebted for the above incident, relates

that on the day when all that was mortal of Anna Maria Ross was

consigned to its kindred dust, as she was entering a street-car, the

conductor remarked, "I suppose you have been to see the last of Miss

Ross." Upon her replying in the affirmative, he added, while tears

flowed down his cheeks, "I did not know her, but she watched over my

wife for four weeks when she had a terrible sickness. She was almost an

entire stranger to her when she came and offered her assistance."

Her work for the soldier was chiefly performed in connection with the

institution known as the Cooper Shop Hospital, a branch of the famous

Cooper Shop Refreshment Saloon, for Soldiers. Miss Ross was appointed

Lady Principal of this Institution, and devoted herself to it with an

energy that never wearied. Day and night she was at her post--watching

while others slept, dressing with her own hands the most loathsome

wounds; winning the love and admiration of all with whom she was

associated. Her tasks were arduous, her sympathies were drawn upon to

the utmost, her responsibilities were great.

One who knew her well, and often saw her within the walls of the "Cooper

Shop," thus gives us some incidents of her work there. The benevolence

expressed in her glowing countenance, and the words of hearty welcome

with which she greeted a humble coadjutor in her loving labors, will

never be forgotten. It was impossible not to be impressed at once by the

tender earnestness with which she engaged in her self-imposed duties,

and her active interest in everything which concerned the well-being of

those committed to her charge. When they were about to leave her

watchful care forever, a sister's thoughtfulness was exhibited in her

preparations for their comfort and convenience. The wardrobe of the

departing soldier was carefully inspected, and everything needful was

supplied. It was her custom also to furnish to each one who left, a sum

of money, "that he might have something of his own" to meet any

unexpected necessity by the way. And if the donation-box at the entrance

of the hospital chanced to be empty, her own purse made good the

deficiency. The writer well remembers the anxious countenance with

which she was met one morning by Miss Ross, when about taking her place

for the day's duty. "I am so sorry!" was her exclamation. "When

C---- left for Virginia last night I forgot, in the confusion, to give

him money; and I am afraid that he has nothing of his own, for he had

not received his pay. I thought of it after I was in bed, and it

disturbed my sleep."

The tenderness of Miss Ross's nature was never more touchingly exhibited

than in the case of Lieutenant B----, of Saratoga, New York. He was

brought to the hospital by his father for a few days' rest before

proceeding to his home. Mortally wounded, he failed so rapidly that he

could not be removed. During two days and nights of agonizing suffering

Miss Ross scarcely left his side, and while she bathed his burning brow

and moistened his parched lips she mingled with these tender offices

words of Christian hope and consolation. "Call me Anna," she said, "and

tell me all which your heart prompts you to say." And as life ebbed away

he poured into her sympathizing ear the confidences which his mother,

alas! could not receive. With tearful eyes and sorrowing heart this

new-found friend watched by him to the last--then closed the heavy eyes,

and smoothed the raven locks, and sent the quiet form, lovely even in

death, to her who waited its arrival in bitter anguish.

To those who best knew the subject of this sketch, it seems a hopeless

task to enumerate the instances of unselfish devotion to the good of

others with which that noble life was filled. It was the same tale again

and again repeated. Alike the pain, the anxiety, the care; alike the

support, the encouragement, the consolation. No marvel was it that the

sinking soldier, far from home and friends, mistook the gentle ministry

for that which marks earth's strongest tie, and at her approach,

whispered "mother."

It would be impossible to enumerate a tithe of the special instances of

her kindly ministrations, but there are some that so vividly illustrate

prominent points in her character that we cannot refrain from the

record. One of these marked traits was her perseverance in the

accomplishment of any plan for the good of her charges, and may well be

mentioned here.

For a long time an Eastern soldier, named D----, was an inmate of her

hospital, and as, though improving, his recovery was slow, and it seemed

unlikely that he would soon be fit for service in the ranks, she got him

the appointment of hospital steward, and he remained where he could

still have care.

After the battle of Gettysburg he relapsed, and from over-work and

over-wrought feeling, sank into almost hopeless depression. The death of

a beloved child, and an intense passionate longing to revisit his home

and family, aided this deep grief, and gave it a force and power that

threatened to deprive him of life or reason. It was at this crisis that

with her accustomed energy Miss Ross directed all her efforts toward

restoring him to his family. After the preliminary steps had been taken

she applied to the captain of a Boston steamer, but he refused to

receive a sick passenger on account of the want of suitable

accommodations. The case was urgent. He must go or die. "There is no

room," repeated the captain.

"Give him a place upon the floor," was the rejoinder, "and I will

furnish everything needful." "But a sick man cannot have proper

attendance under such circumstances," persisted the captain. "I will go

with him if necessary," she replied, "and will take the entire charge of

his comfort." "Miss Ross, I am sorry to refuse you, but I cannot comply

with your request. This answer must be final."

What was to be done? The unsuccessful pleader covered her face with her

hands for a few moments; then raising her head said, slowly and sadly,

"Captain ----, I have had many letters from the friends of New England

soldiers, thanking me with overflowing hearts for restoring to them the

dearly loved husband, son, or brother while yet alive. From D.'s wife I

shall receive no such message. This is his only chance of life. He

cannot bear the journey by land. He must go by water or die. He will die

here--far from friends and home." This appeal could not be resisted. "I

_will_ take him, Miss Ross," was the answer; "but it must be only upon

the condition that you will promise not to ask such a favor of me again

whatever the case may be." "Never!" was the quick reply, "never will I

bind myself by such a promise while an Eastern soldier needs a friend or

a passage to his home! You are the first man to whom I should apply."

"Then let him come without a promise. You have conquered; I will do for

him all that can be done."

Could such friendship fail to win the hearts of those to whom this

inestimable woman gave the cheerful service of her life's best days? "Do

you want to see Florence Nightingale?" said one, who had not yet left

the nursing care which brought him back to life and hope, to a companion

whom he met. "If you do, just come to our hospital and see Miss Ross."

This was the only reward she craved--a word of thoughtful gratitude from

those she sought to serve; and in this was lost all remembrance of days

of toil and nights of weariness. So from week to week and from month to

month the self-consecration grew more complete--the self-forgetfulness

more perfect. But the life spent in the service of others was drawing

near its end. The busy hands were soon to be folded, the heavy eyelids

forever closed, the weary feet were hastening to their rest.

The spring of 1863 found Miss Ross still occupied in the weary round of

her labors at the hospital. She had most remarkable strength and vigor

of constitution, and that, with every other gift and talent she

possessed was unsparingly used for the promotion of any good cause to

which she was devoted. During this spring, in addition to all her other

and engrossing labors, she was very busy in promoting the interests of a

large fair for the purpose of aiding in the establishment of a permanent

Home for discharged soldiers, who were incapacitated for active labor.

She canvassed the city of Philadelphia, and also traveled in different

parts of Pennsylvania and New Jersey in order to obtain assistance in

this important undertaking. "Is it not wrong," a friend once asked,

"that you should do so much, while so many are doing nothing?" "Oh,

there are hundreds who would gladly work as I do," was her reply, "but

they have not my powers of endurance."

The fair in which she was so actively interested took place in June, and

a large sum was added to the fund previously obtained for the benefit of

the "Soldiers' Home." The work now progressed rapidly, and the personal

aid and influence of Miss Ross were exerted to forward it in every

possible way. Yet while deeply absorbed in the promotion of this object,

which was very near to her heart, she found time to brighten, with

characteristic tenderness and devotion, the last hours of the Rev. Dr.

Clay, the aged and revered minister of the ancient church, in which the

marriage of her parents had taken place so many years before. With his

own family she watched beside his bed, and with them received his

parting blessing.

The waning year found the noble undertaking, the object of so many

prayers and the goal of such ardent desire, near a prosperous

completion. A suitable building had been obtained, and many busy days

were occupied in the delightful task of furnishing it. At the close of a

day spent in this manner, the friend who had been Miss Ross's companion

proposed that the remaining purchases should be deferred to another

time, urging, in addition to her extreme fatigue, that many of the

stores were closed. "Come to South Street with me," she replied. "They

keep open there until twelve o'clock, and we may find exactly what we

want." The long walk was taken, and when the desired articles were

secured she yielded to her friend's entreaties, and at a late hour

sought her home. As she pursued her solitary way came there no

foreshadowing of what was to be? no whisper of the hastening summons? no

token of the quick release? Wearily were the steps ascended, which

echoed for the last time the familiar tread. Slowly the door closed

through which she should pass on angelic mission nevermore. Was there no

warning?

"I am tired," she said, "and so cold that I feel as if I never could be

warm again." It was an unusual complaint for her to whom fatigue had

seemed almost unknown before. But it was very natural that exhaustion

should follow a day of such excessive labor, and she would soon be

refreshed. So thought those who loved her, unconscious of the

threatening danger. The heavy chill retained its grasp, the resistless

torpor of paralysis crept slowly on, and then complete insensibility. In

this utter helplessness, which baffled every effort of human skill,

night wore away, and morning dawned. There was no change and days passed

before the veil was lifted.

She could not believe that her work was all done on earth and death

near, "but," she said, "God has willed it--His will be done." There was

no apparent mental struggle. Well she knew that she had done her

uttermost, and that God was capable of placing in the field other

laborers, and perhaps better ones than she; and she uttered no

meaningless words when, without a murmur, she resigned herself to His

will.

A few words of fond farewell, she calmly spoke to the weeping friends

about her. Then with fainter and fainter breathing, life fled so gently

that they knew not when the shadowy vale was passed. So, silently and

peacefully the Death-angel had visited her, and upon her features lay

the calm loveliness of perfect rest.

On the 22d of December, 1863, the friends, and sharers of her labors

were assembled at the dedication of the Soldiers' Home. It was the

crowning work of her life, and it was completed; and thus, at the same

hour, this earthly crown was laid upon her dying brow, and the freed

soul put on the crown of a glorious immortality.

Her funeral was attended by a sorrowing multitude, all of whom had

known, and many, yea, most of whom, had been blest by her labors. For

even they are blest to whom it has happened to know and appreciate a

character like hers.

They made her a tomb, in the beautiful Monument Cemetery, beneath the

shadow of a stately cedar. Nature itself, in the desolation of advancing

winter, seemed to join in the lament that such loveliness and worth was

lost to earth.

But with returning summer, the branches of her overshadowing cedar are

melodious with the song of birds, while roses and many flowering plants

scatter fragrance to every passing breeze as their petals falling hide

the dark soil beneath. The hands of friends have planted these--an

odorous tribute to the memory of her they loved and mourn, and have

raised beside, in the enduring marble, a more lasting testimony of her

worth.

The tomb is of pure white marble, surmounted by a tablet of the same,

which in alto relievo, represents a female figure ministering to a

soldier, who lies upon a couch. Beneath, is this inscription:

ERECTED BY HER FRIENDS

IN MEMORY OF

ANNA M. ROSS,

DIED, DECEMBER 22, 1863.

Her piety was fruitful of good works. The friendless child, the fugitive

slave, and the victim of intemperance were ever objects of her tenderest

solicitude.

When civil war disclosed its horrors, she dedicated her life to the sick

and wounded soldiers of her country, and died a martyr to Humanity and

Patriotism.

So closes the brief and imperfect record of a beautiful life; but the

light of its lovely example yet remains.

MRS. G. T. M. DAVIS.

Among the large number of the ladies of New York city who distinguished

themselves for their devotion to the welfare of the soldiers of our

army, of whom so many in all forms of suffering were brought there

during the war, it seems almost invidious to select any individual. But

it is perhaps less so in the case of the subject of this sketch, than of

many others, since from the very beginning of the war till long after

its close, she quietly sacrificed the ease and luxury of her life to

devote herself untiringly, and almost without respite, to the duties

thus voluntarily assumed and faithfully performed.

Mrs. Davis is the wife of Colonel G. T. M. Davis, who served with great

distinction in the Mexican war, but who, having entered into commercial

pursuits, is not at present connected with the army. Her maiden name was

Pomeroy, and she is a native of Pittsfield, Massachusetts. Her brother,

Robert Pomeroy, Esq., of that town, a wealthy manufacturer, was noted

for his liberal benefactions during the war, and with all his family

omitted no occasion of showing his devotion to his country and to its

wounded and suffering defenders. His daughter, near the close of the

war, became the wife of one of the most distinguished young officers in

the service, General Bartlett.

General Bartlett, at twenty-two, and fresh from the classic precincts of

Harvard, entered the service as a private. He rose rapidly through the

genius and force of his commanding character. He lost a leg, we believe

at the siege of Yorktown, left the service, until partially recovered,

when he again re-entered it as the Colonel of the Forty-ninth

Massachusetts Regiment, which was raised in Berkshire County. For months

he rode at the head of his regiment with his crutch attached to the back

of his saddle. It was after his return from the South-west, (where the

gallant Forty-ninth distinguished itself at Port Hudson, Plain's Stone,

and other hard-won fields), with a maimed arm, that he was rewarded with

the hand of one of Berkshire's fairest daughters, a member of this

patriotic family. Several other young men, members of the same family,

have also greatly distinguished themselves in the service of their

country.

At the very outset of the war, or as soon as the sick among the

volunteers who were pouring into New York, demanded relief, Mrs. Davis

began to devote time and care to them. Daily leaving her elegant home,

she sought out and ministered to her country's suffering defenders, at

the various temporary barracks erected for their accommodation.

When the Park Barracks Ladies' Association was formed, she became its

Secretary, and so continued for a long period, most faithful and

energetic in her ministrations. This association included in its work

the Hospital on Bedloe's Island, and Mrs. Davis was one of the first who

commenced making regular visits there.

Most of the men brought to Bedloe's Island in the earlier part of the

war, were sick with the various diseases consequent upon the

unaccustomed climate and the unwonted exposure they had encountered.

They needed a very careful and regular diet, one which the army rations,

though perhaps suitable and sufficient for men in health, were unable to

supply. It was but natural that these ladies, full of the warm sympathy

which prompted them to the unusual tasks they had undertaken, should

shrink from seeing a half-convalescent fever patient fed with hard-bread

and salt pork, or the greasy soups of which pork was the basis. They

brought delicacies, often prepared by their own hands or in their own

kitchens, and were undoubtedly injudicious, sometimes, in their

administration. Out of this arose the newspaper controversy between the

public and the surgeons in charge, at Bedloe's Island, which is probably

yet fresh in many minds. It was characterized by a good deal of

acrimony.

Mrs. Davis avers that neither she nor her friends gave food to the

patients without the consent of the physicians. The affair terminated,

as is well-known, by the removal of the surgeon in charge.

The Ladies Park Barracks' Association was, as a body, opposed to

extending its benefactions beyond New York and its immediate vicinity.

Mrs. Davis was of a different opinion, and was, beside, not altogether

pleased with the management of the association. She therefore, after a

time, relinquished her official connection with it, though never for one

instant relaxing her efforts for the same general object.

For a long series of months Mrs. Davis repaired almost daily to the

large General Hospital at David's Island, where thousands of sick and

wounded men were sometimes congregated. Here she and her chief

associates, Mrs. Chapman, and Miss Morris, established the most amicable

relations with the surgeon in charge, Dr. McDougall, and were welcomed

by him, as valued coadjutors.

On the opening of the Soldiers' Rest, in Howard Street, an association

of ladies was formed to aid in administering to the comfort of the poor

fellows who tarried there during their transit through the city, or were

received in the well-conducted hospital connected with the institution.

Of this association Mrs. Davis was the Secretary, during the whole term

of its existence.

This association, as well as the institution itself, was admirably

conducted, and perhaps performed as much real and beneficial work as any

other in the vicinity of New York. It was continued in existence till

several months after the close of the war.

Besides her visits at David's Island and Howard Street, which were most

assiduous, Mrs. Davis as often as possible visited the Central Park, or

Mount St. Vincent Hospital, the Ladies' Home Hospital, at the corner of

Lexington Avenue and Fifty-first Street, and the New England Rooms in

Broadway. At all of these she was welcomed, and her efforts most

gratefully received. Seldom indeed did a day pass, during the long four

years of the war, and for months after the suspension of hostilities,

that her kind face was not seen in one or more of the hospitals.

Her social position, as well as her genuine dignity of manners enforced

the respect of all the officials, and won their regard. Her untiring

devotion and kindness earned her the almost worshipping affection of the

thousands of sufferers to whom she ministered.

Letters still reach her, at intervals, from the men who owe, perhaps

life, certainly relief and comfort to her cherishing care. Ignorant men,

they may be, little accustomed to the amenities of life, capable only of

composing the strangely-worded, ill-spelled letters they send, but the

gratitude they express is so abundant and so genuine, that one overlooks

the uncouthness of manner, and the unattractive appearance of the

epistles. And seldom does she travel but at the most unexpected points

scarred and maimed veterans present themselves before her, and with the

deepest respect beg the privilege of once more offering their thanks.

She may have forgotten the faces, that in the great procession of

suffering flitted briefly before her, but they will never forget the

face that bent above their couch of pain.

The native county of Mrs. Davis, Berkshire, Massachusetts, was famous

for the abundance and excellence of the supplies it continually sent

forward to the sick and suffering soldiers. The appeals of Mrs. Davis to

the women of Berkshire, were numerous and always effective. Her letters

were exceedingly graphic and spirited, and were published frequently in

the county papers, reaching not only the villages in the teeming valleys

but the scattered farm-houses among the hills; and they continually

gave impulse and direction to the noble charities of those women, who,

in their quiet homes, had already sent forth their dearest and best to

the service of the country.

Mrs. Davis for herself disclaims all merit, but has no word of praise

too much for these. They made the real sacrifices, these women who from

their small means gave so much, who rose before the sun, alike in the

cold of winter and the heat of summer, who performed the most menial

tasks and the hardest toil that they might save for the soldiers, that

they might gain time to work for the soldiers. It was they who gave

much, not the lady who laid aside only the soft pleasures of a luxurious

life, whose well-trained servants left no task unfinished during her

absence, whose bath, and dress, and dinner were always ready on her

return from the tour of visiting, who gave only what was not missed from

her abundance, and made no sacrifice but that of her personal ease. So

speaks Mrs. Davis, in noble self-depreciation of herself and her class.

There is a variety of gifts. God and her country will decide whose work

was most worthy.

[Illustration: MISS MARY J. SAFFORD.

Eng. by John Sartain.]

MISS MARY J. SAFFORD

Miss Mary J. Safford, is a native of New England, having been born in

Vermont, though her parents, very worthy people, early emigrated to the

West, and settled in Northern Illinois, in which State she has since

resided, making her home most of the time in Crete, Joliet, Shawneetown

and Cairo; the last named place is her present home.

Miss Safford, early in life, evinced an unusual thirst for knowledge,

and gave evidence of an intellect of a superior order; and, with an

energy and zeal seldom known, she devoted every moment to the attainment

of an education, the cultivation of her mind--and the gaining of such

information as the means at hand afforded. Her love of the beautiful and

good was at once marked, and every opportunity made use of to satisfy

her desires in these directions.

Her good deeds date from the days of her childhood, and the remarkably

high sense of duty of which she is possessed, makes her continually in

search of some object of charity upon which to exert her beneficence and

kindly care.

The commencement of the late rebellion, found her a resident of Cairo,

Illinois, and immediately upon the arrival of the Union soldiers there,

she set about organizing and establishing temporary hospitals throughout

the different regiments, in order that the sick might have immediate and

proper care and attention until better and more permanent arrangements

could be effected. Every day found her a visitor and a laborer among

these sick soldiers, scores of whom now bear fresh in their memories the

_petite_ form, and gentle and loving face of that good angel of mercy to

whom they are indebted, through her kind and watchful care and nursing,

for the lives they are now enjoying.

The morning after the battle of Belmont, found her,--the only

lady--early on the field, fearlessly penetrating far into the enemies'

lines, with her handkerchief tied upon a little stick, and waving above

her head as a flag of truce,--ministering to the wounded, which our army

had been compelled to leave behind, to some extent--and many a Union

soldier owes his life to her almost superhuman efforts on that occasion.

She continued her labors with the wounded after their removal to the

hospitals, supplying every want in her power, and giving words of

comfort and cheer to every heart.

As soon as the news of the terrible battle of Pittsburg Landing reached

her, she gathered together a supply of lints and bandages, and provided

herself with such stimulants and other supplies as might be required,

not forgetting a good share of delicacies, and hastened to the scene of

suffering and carnage, where she toiled incessantly day and night in her

pilgrimage of love and mission of mercy for more than three weeks, and

then only returned with a steamboat-load of the wounded on their way to

the general hospitals. She continued her labors among the hospitals at

Cairo and the neighborhood, constantly visiting from one to the other.

Any day she could be seen on her errands of mercy passing along the

streets with her little basket loaded with delicacies, or

reading-matter, or accompanied with an attendant carrying ample supplies

to those who had made known to her their desire for some favorite dish

or relish. On Christmas day, 1861, there were some twenty-five regiments

stationed at Cairo, and on that day she visited all the camps, and

presented to every sick soldier some little useful present or token. The

number of sad hearts that she made glad that day no one will ever know

save He who knoweth all things. Her zeal and energy in this good work

was so far in excess of her physical abilities, that she labored beyond

her endurance, and her health finally became so much impaired that she

was induced to leave the work and make a tour in Europe, where at this

writing she still is, though an invalid. Her good deeds even followed

her in her travels in a foreign land, and no sooner had the German

States become involved in war, than she was called upon and consulted as

to the establishment of hospital regulations and appointments there--and

even urged to take charge of and establish and direct the whole system.

Mrs. Mary A. Livermore, of the Northwestern Sanitary Commission, who has

known as much of Miss Safford's work, as any one connected with the

service, writes thus of her:

"Miss Safford commenced her labors immediately, when Cairo was occupied.

I think she was the _very first woman_ who went into the camps and

hospitals, in the country; I know she was in the West. There was no

system, no organization, nothing to do with. She systematized everything

in Cairo, furnished necessaries with her own means, or rather with her

brother's, who is wealthy; went daily to the work, and though surgeons

and authorities everywhere were opposed to her efforts, she disarmed all

opposition by her sweetness and grace and beauty. _She did just what she

pleased._ At Pittsburg Landing, where she was found in advance of other

women, she was hailed by dying soldiers, who did not know her name, but

had seen her at Cairo, as the 'Cairo Angel.' She came up with boat-load

after boat-load of sick and wounded soldiers who were taken to hospitals

at Cairo, Paducah, St. Louis, etc., cooking all the while for them,

dressing wounds, singing to them, and praying with them. She did not

undress on the way up from Pittsburg Landing, but worked incessantly.

"She was very frail, as _petite_ as a girl of twelve summers, and

utterly unaccustomed to hardships. Sleeping in hospital tents, working

on pestilential boats, giving up everything to this life, carrying the

sorrows of the country, and the burdens of the soldier on her heart like

personal griefs, with none of the aids in the work that came afterwards,

she broke down at the end of the first eighteen months, and will never

again be well. Her brother sent her immediately to Paris, where she

underwent the severest treatment for the cure of the injury to the

spine, occasioned by her life in the army and hospitals. The physicians

subsequently prescribed travel, and she has been since that time in

Europe. She is highly educated, speaks French and German as well as

English, and some Italian. She is the most indomitable little creature

living, heroic, uncomplaining, self-forgetful, and will yet 'die in

harness.' When the war broke out in Italy, she was in Florence, and at

Madame Mario's invitation, immediately went to work to assist the

Italian ladies in preparing for the sick and wounded of their soldiers.

In Norway, she was devising ways and means to assist poor girls to

emigrate to America, where they had relatives--and so everywhere. She

must be counted among those who have given up health, and ultimately

life for the country."

We add also the following extracts from a letter from Cairo, published

in one of the Chicago papers, early in the war.

AN ANGEL AT CAIRO.

"I cannot close this letter from Cairo without a passing word of

one whose name is mentioned by thousands of our soldiers with

gratitude and blessing. Miss Mary Safford is a resident of this

town, whose life since the beginning of the war, has been devoted

to the amelioration of the soldier's lot, and his comfort in the

hospitals. She is a young lady, _petite_ in figure, unpretending,

but highly cultivated, by no means officious, and so wholly

unconscious of her excellencies, and the great work she is

achieving, that I fear this public allusion to her may pain her

modest nature. Her sweet, young face, full of benevolence, pleasant

voice, and winning manner instate her in every one's heart

directly; and the more one sees her, the more he admires her great

soul and her noble nature. Not a day elapses but she is found in

the hospitals, unless indeed she is absent on an errand of mercy up

the Tennessee, or to the hospitals in Kentucky.

"Every sick and wounded soldier in Cairo knows and loves her; and

as she enters the ward, every pale face brightens at her approach.

As she passes along, she inquires of each one how he has passed the

night, if he is well supplied with reading matter, and if there is

anything she can do for him. All tell her their story frankly--the

man old enough to be her father, and the boy of fifteen, who should

be out of the army, and home with his mother. One thinks he would

like a baked apple if the doctor will allow it--another a rice

pudding, such as she can make--a third a tumbler of buttermilk--a

fourth wishes nothing, is discouraged, thinks he shall die, and

breaks down utterly, in tears, and him she soothes and encourages,

till he resolves for her sake, to keep up a good heart, and hold on

to life a little longer--a fifth wants her to write to his wife--a

sixth is afraid to die, and with him, and for him, her devout

spirit wrestles, till light shines through the dark valley--a

seventh desires her to sit by him and read, and so on. Every

request is attended to, be it ever so trivial, and when she goes

again, if the doctor has sanctioned the gratification of the sick

man's wish, the buttermilk, baked apple, rice pudding, etc., are

carried along. Doctors, nurses, medical directors, and army

officers, are all her true friends; and so judicious and

trustworthy is she, that the Chicago Sanitary Commission have given

her _carte blanche_ to draw on their stores at Cairo for anything

she may need in her errands of mercy. She is performing a noble

work, and that too in the quietest and most unconscious manner.

Said a sick soldier from the back woods, in the splendid hospital

at Mound City, who was transferred thither from one of the

miserable regimental hospitals at Cairo, 'I'm taken care of here a

heap better than I was at Cairo; but I'd rather be there than here,

for the sake of seeing that little gal that used to come in every

day to see us. I tell you what, she's an angel, if there is any.'

To this latter assertion we say amen! most heartily."

Miss Safford is the sister of A. B. Safford, Esq., a well-known and

highly respected banker at Cairo, Illinois, and of Hon. A. P. K. Safford

of Nevada.

MRS. LYDIA G. PARRISH.

At the outbreak of hostilities Mrs. Parrish was residing at Media,

Pennsylvania, near Philadelphia. Her husband, Dr. Joseph Parrish, had

charge of an institution established there for idiots, or those of

feeble mental capacity, and it cannot be doubted that Mrs. Parrish, with

her kindly and benevolent instincts, and desire for usefulness, found

there an ample sphere for her efforts, and a welcome occupation.

But as in the case of thousands of others, all over the country, Mrs.

Parrish found the current of her life and its occupations marvellously

changed, by the war. There was a new call for the efforts of woman, such

an one as in our country, or in the world, had never been made. English

women had set the example of sacrifice and work for their countrymen in

arms, but their efforts were on a limited scale, and bore but a very

small proportion to the great uprising of loyal women in our country,

and their varied, grand persistent labors during the late civil war in

America. Not a class, or grade, or rank, of our countrywomen, but was

represented in this work. The humble dweller in the fishing cabins on

the bleak and desolate coast, the woman of the prairie, and of the

cities, the wife and daughter of the mechanic, and the farmer, of the

merchant, and the professional man, the lady from the mansion of wealth,

proud perhaps of her old name, of her culture and refinement--all met

and labored together, bound by one common bond of patriotism and of

sympathy.

Mrs. Parrish was one of the first to lay her talents and her efforts

upon the altar of her country. In 1861, and almost as soon as the need

of woman's self-sacrificing labors became apparent, she volunteered her

services in behalf of the sick and wounded soldiers of the Union.

She visited Washington while the army was yet at the capital and in its

vicinity. Her husband, Dr. Parrish, had become connected with the newly

organized Sanitary Commission, and in company with him and other

gentlemen similarly connected, she examined the different forts,

barracks, camps, and hospitals then occupied by our troops, for the

purpose of ascertaining their condition, and selecting a suitable sphere

for the work in which she intended to engage.

On the first day of 1862, she commenced her hospital labors, selecting

for that purpose the Georgetown Seminary Hospital. She wrote letters for

the patients, read to them, and gave to them all the aid and comfort in

her power; and she was thus enabled to learn their real wants, and to

seek the means of supplying them. Their needs were many, and awakened

all her sympathies and incited her to ever-renewed effort. After one

day's trial of these new scenes, she wrote thus in her journal, January

2, 1862: "My heart is so oppressed with the sight of suffering I see

around me that I am almost unfitted for usefulness; such sights are new

to me. I feel the need of some resource, where I may apply for

delicacies and comforts, which are positively necessary. The Sanitary

Commission is rapidly becoming the sinew of strength for the sick and

wounded, and I will go to their store-rooms." Application was made to

the Commission, and readily and promptly responded to. She was

authorized to draw from their stores, and was promised aid and

protection from the organization.

Both camps and hospitals were rapidly filling up; the weather was

inclement and the roads bad, but at the solicitation of other earnest

workers, she made occasional visits to camps in the country, and

distributed clothing, books and comforts of various kinds. The "Berdan

Sharp-shooters" were encamped a few miles from the city, and needed

immediate assistance. She was requested by the Secretary of the

Commission to "visit the camps, make observations, inquire into their

needs, and report to the Commission." She reached the camp through

almost impassable roads, and was received by the officers with respect

and consideration, upon announcing the object of her visit. She made

calls upon the men in hospitals and quarters, returned to Washington,

reported "two hundred sick, tents and streets needing police, small pox

breaking out, men discouraged, and officers unable to procure the

necessary aid, that she had distributed a few jellies to the sick,

checker boards to a few of the tents, and made a requisition for

supplies to meet the pressing want." This little effort was the means of

affording speedy relief to many suffering men. She did not however feel

at liberty to abandon her hospital service, as we learn from a note in

her diary, that "this outside work does not seem to be my mission. I

have become thoroughly interested in my daily rounds at the city

hospitals, particularly at Georgetown Seminary, where my heart and

energies are fully enlisted." She passed several weeks in this service,

going from bed to bed with her little stores, which she dispensed under

instructions from the surgeon, without being known by name to the many

recipients of her attention and care.

The stores of the Commission were not then as ample as they afterward

became, when its noble aims had become more fully understood, and its

grand mission of benevolence more widely known, and the sick and wounded

were in need of many things not obtainable from either this source or

the Government supplies. Mrs. Parrish determined, therefore, to return

to her northern home and endeavor to interest the people of her

neighborhood in the cause she had so much at heart. She found the people

ready to respond liberally to her appeals, and soon returned to

Washington well satisfied with the success of her efforts.

She felt now that her time, and if need be her life, must be

consecrated to this work, and as her diary expresses it, she "could not

remain at home," and that if she could be of service in her new sphere

of labor she "must return."

After her brief absence, she re-entered the Georgetown Seminary

Hospital. Death had removed some of her former patients, others had

returned to duty, but others whom she left there welcomed her with

enthusiasm as the "orange lady," a title she had unconsciously earned

from the fact that she had been in the habit of distributing oranges

freely to such of the patients as were allowed to have them.

The experience of life often shows us the importance of little acts

which so frequently have an entirely disproportionate result. Mrs.

Parrish found this true in her hospital ministrations. Little gifts and

attentions often opened the way to the closed hearts of those to whom

she ministered, and enabled her to reach the innermost concealed

thought-life of her patients.

A soldier sat in his chair, wrapped in his blanket, forlorn, haggard

from disease, sullen, selfish in expression, and shrinking from her

notice as she passed him. To her morning salutation, he would return

only a cold recognition. He seemed to be bristling with defenses against

encroachment. And thus it remained till one day a small gift penetrated

to the very citadel of his fortress.

"Shall I read to you?" she commenced, kindly, to which he replied,

surlily, "Don't want reading." "Shall I write to any of your friends?"

she continued. "I hav'n't any friends," he said in the sourest tone.

Repulsed, but not baffled, she presently, and in the same kind manner,

took an orange from her basket, and gently asked him if he would accept

it. There was a perceptible brightening of his face, but he only

answered, in the same surly tone, as he held forth his hand, "Don't care

if I do."

And yet, in a little time, his sullen spirit yielded--he spread all his

troubles before the friend he had so long repulsed, and opening his

heart, showed that what had seemed so selfish and moody in him, arose

from a deep sense of loneliness and discouragement, which disappeared

the moment the orange had unlocked his heart, and admitted her to his

confidence and affection.

About six weeks she spent thus in alternate visits to the various

hospitals in the vicinity of Washington, though her labors were

principally confined to the Georgetown Hospital, where they commenced,

and where her last visit was made.

As her home duties called her at that time, she returned thither,

briefly. Soon after she reached home, she received a letter from one of

her former patients to whom she had given her address, requesting her to

call at the Broad and Cherry Street Hospital, in Philadelphia. She did

so, and on entering the building found herself surrounded by familiar

faces. Her old Washington friends had just arrived, and welcomed her

with cordial greetings. The stronger ones approached her with

outstretched hands--some, too feeble to rise, covered their faces and

wept with joy--she was the only person known to them in all the great

lonely city. The surgeon-in-charge, observing this scene, urged her to

visit the hospital often, where her presence was sure to do the men

great good.

During her stay at home she assisted in organizing a Ladies' Aid Society

at Chester. She was appointed Directress for the township where she

resided, and as the hospital was about to be located near Chester, she,

with others, directed her attention to preparing and furnishing it.

Sewing-circles were formed, and as a result of the efforts made, by the

time the soldiers arrived, a plentiful supply of nice clothing,

delicacies, etc., etc., was ready for them.

Mrs. Parrish united with other women of the vicinity in organizing a

corps of volunteer nurses, who continued to perform their duties with

regularity and faithfulness until some time after, a new order dispensed

with their services.

Her labors during the summer and autumn of 1862 visibly affected her

health, and were the cause of a severe illness which continued for

several weeks.

Her health being at length restored, she went to Washington, spent a few

days in visiting the hospitals there, and then, with a pass sent her by

Major-General Sumner, from Falmouth, she joined Mrs. Dr. Harris and

started, January 17th, 1863, for Falmouth via Acquia Creek.

The army was in motion and much confusion existed, but they found

comfortable quarters at the Lacy House, where they were under the

protection of the General and his staff.

Here Mrs. Parrish found much to do, there being a great deal of sickness

among the troops. The weather was stormy, and the movement of the army

was impeded; and though she underwent much privation for want of

suitable food, and on account of the inclement season she continued

faithful at her post and accomplished much good.

In December of the same year she accompanied her husband, with the

Medical Director of the Department of Virginia and North Carolina, on a

tour of inspection to the hospitals of Yorktown, Fortress Monroe,

Norfolk, Portsmouth, and Newbern, North Carolina. While at Old Point she

learned that there was about to be an exchange of prisoners, and

desiring to render some services in this direction obtained permission

from General Butler to proceed, in company with a friend, Miss L. C. on

the flag-of-truce boat to City Point, witness the exchange, and render

such aid as was possible to our men on their return passage.

There were five hundred Confederate prisoners on board, who, as her

journal records, "sang our National airs, and seemed to be a jolly and

happy healthy company."

Our men were in a very different condition--"sick and weary," and

needing the Sanitary Commission supplies, which had been brought for

them, yet shouting with feeble voices their gladness at being once more

under the old flag, and in freedom. Mrs. Parrish fed and comforted

these poor men as best she could, till the steamer anchored off Old

Point again.

It had been intended to continue the exchange much further, but a

dispute arising concerning the treatment of negro prisoners, the

operations of the cartel were arrested, and the exchange suspended. She

found, therefore, no further need of her services in this direction, and

so returned home.

For many months to come, as one of the managers of the women's branch of

the United States Sanitary Commission, she found ample employment in

preparation for the great Philadelphia Fair, in which arduous service

she continued until its close, in July, 1864. The exhausting labors of

these months, and the heat of the weather during the continuance of the

Fair, made it necessary for her to have a respite for the remainder of

the summer.

It was in the early winter of this year that she accompanied her husband

on a tour of inspection to the hospitals of Annapolis, and became so

interested in the condition of the returned prisoners, who needed so

much done for them in the way of personal care, that she gladly

consented, at the solicitation of the medical officers and agent of the

Commission, to serve there for a season.

Of the usefulness of her work among the prisoners, testimony is

abundant. What she saw, and what she did, is most touchingly set forth

in the following letters from her pen, extracted from the Bulletin of

the United States Sanitary Commission:

ANNAPOLIS, _December 1, 1864_.

"The steamer _Constitution_ arrived this morning with seven hundred

and six men, one hundred and twenty-five of whom were sent

immediately to hospitals, being too ill to enjoy more than the

sight of their 'promised land.' Many indeed, were in a dying

condition. Some had died a short time before the arrival of the

boat. Those who were able, proceeded to the high ground above the

landing, and after being divided into battalions, each was

conducted in turn to the Government store-house, under charge of

Captain Davis, who furnished each man with a new suit of clothes

recorded his name, regiment and company. They then passed out to

another building near by, where warm water, soap, towels, brushes

and combs awaited them.

"After their ablutions they returned to the open space in front of

the building, to look around and enjoy the realities of their new

life. Here they were furnished with paper, envelopes, sharpened

pencils, hymn-books and tracts from the Sanitary Commission, and

sat down to communicate the glad news of their freedom to friends

at home. In about two hours most of the men who were able, had

sealed their letters and deposited them in a large mail bag which

was furnished, and they were soon sent on their way to hundreds of

anxious kindred and friends.

"Captain Davis very kindly invited me to accompany him to another

building, to witness the administration of the food. Several

cauldrons containing nice coffee, piles of new white bread, and

stands covered with meat, met the eye. Three dealers were in

attendance. The first gave to each soldier a loaf of bread, the

second a slice of boiled meat, the third, dipping the new tin-cup

from the hand of each, into the coffee cauldron, dealt out hot

coffee; and how it was all received I am unable to describe. The

feeble ones reached out their emaciated hands to receive gladly,

that which they were scarcely able to carry, and with brightening

faces and grateful expressions went on their way. The stouter ones

of the party, however, must have their jokes, and such expressions

as the following passed freely among them: 'No stockade about this

bread,' 'This is no confederate dodge,' etc. One fellow, whose skin

was nearly black from exposure, said, 'That's more bread than I've

seen for two months.' Another, 'That settles a man's plate.' A

bright-eyed boy of eighteen, whose young spirit had not been

completely crushed out in rebeldom, could not refrain from a

hurrah, and cried out, 'Hurrah for Uncle Sam, hurrah! No

Confederacy about this bread.' One poor feeble fellow, almost too

faint to hold his loaded plate, muttered out, 'Why, this looks as

if we were going to live, there's no grains of corn for a man to

swallow whole in this loaf.' Thus the words of cheer and hope came

from almost every tongue, as they received their rations and walked

away, each with his 'thank you, thank you;' and sat down upon the

ground, which forcibly reminded me of the Scripture account where

the multitude sat down in companies, 'and did eat and were filled.'

"Ambulances came afterwards to take those who were unable to walk

to Camp Parole, which is two miles distant. One poor man, who was

making his way behind all the rest to reach the ambulance, thought

it would leave him, and with a most anxious and pitiful expression,

cried out, 'Oh, wait for me!' I think I shall never forget his look

of distress. When he reached the wagon he was too feeble to step

in, but Captain Davis, and Rev. J. A. Whitaker, Sanitary Commission

agent, assisted him till he was placed by the side of his

companions, who were not in much better condition than himself.

When he was seated, he was so thankful, that he wept like a child,

and those who stood by to aid him could do no less. Soldiers--brave

soldiers, officers and all, were moved to tears. That must be a sad

discipline which not only wastes the manly form till the sign of

humanity is nearly obliterated, but breaks the manly spirit till it

is as tender as a child's."

"_December 6, 1864._

"The St. John's College Hospital, is under the management of Dr.

Palmer, surgeon-in-charge, and his executive officer, Dr. Tremaine.

These gentlemen are worthy of praise for the systematic arrangement

of its cleanly apartments, and for the very kind attention they

bestow on their seven hundred patients. I visited the hospital a

day or two ago, and, from what I saw there, can assure the

relatives at home, that the sufferers are well provided for. If

they could only be seen, how comfortable they look in their neat

white-spread beds, much pain would be spared them. One of the

surgeons informed me that all the appliances are bestowed either by

the Government or the Sanitary Commission.

"As I passed through the different wards, I noticed that each one

was well supplied with rocking-chairs, and alluding to the great

comfort they must be to the invalids, the surgeon replied: 'Yes,

this is one of the rich gifts made to us by the Sanitary

Commission.' An invalid took up the words and remarked: 'I think

it's likely that all about me is from the Sanitary, for I see my

flannel shirt, this wrapper, and pretty much all I've got on, has

the stamp of the United States Sanitary Commission on it.'

"The diet kitchen is under the care of Miss Rich, who, with her

assistants, was busy preparing delicacies of various kinds, for two

hundred patients who were not able to go to the convalescent's

table. The whole atmosphere was filled with the odor of savory

viands. On the stove I counted mutton-chops, beef-steaks, oysters,

chicken, milk, tea, and other very palatable articles cooking. A

man stood by a table, buttering nicely toasted bread; before him

were eight to ten rows of the staff of life, rising up like pillars

of strength to support the inner man. The chief cook in this

department, informed me that he buttered twelve hundred slices of

bread, or toast daily, for the diet patients, and prepared

eighty-six different dishes at each meal. While in conversation

with this good-natured person, the butcher brought in a supply of

meat, amounting, he informed me, to one hundred pounds per day for

the so-called diet kitchen, though this did not sound much like it.

Before we left this attractively clean place the oysterman was met

emptying his cans. Upon inquiring how many oysters he had, he

replied, 'Six gallons is my every day deposit here;' and oh! they

were so inexpressibly fine-looking, I could not resist robbing some

poor fellow of one large bivalve to ascertain their quality. Next

we were shown the store-room, where there was a good supply of

Sanitary stores, pads, pillows, shirts, drawers, arm-slings, stock

of crutches, fans, and other comforts, which, the doctor said, had

been deposited by the United States Sanitary Commission Agent.

These were useful articles that were not furnished by the

Government.

"The executive officer having given us permission to find our way

among the patients, we passed several hours most profitably and

interestingly, conversing with those who had none to cheer them for

many months, and writing letters for those who were too feeble to

use the pen. When the day closed our labors we felt like the

disciple of old, who said, 'Master, it is good to be here,' and

wished that we might set up our tabernacle and glorify the Lord by

doing good to the sick, the lame, and those who had been in

prison."

"_December 8, 1864._

"No human tongue or pen can ever describe the horrible suffering we

have witnessed this day.

"I was early at the landing, eight and a-half o'clock in the

morning, before the boat threw out her ropes for security. The

first one brought two hundred bad cases, which the Naval surgeon

told me should properly go to the hospital near by, were it not

that others were coming, every one of whom was in the most wretched

condition imaginable. They were, therefore, sent in ambulances to

Camp Parole hospital, distant two miles, after being washed and fed

at the barracks.

"In a short time another boat-load drew near, and oh! such a scene

of suffering humanity I desire never to behold again. The whole

deck was a bed of straw for our exhausted, starved, emaciated,

dying fellow-creatures. Of the five hundred and fifty that left

Savannah, the surgeon informed me not over two hundred would

survive; fifty had died on the passage; three died while the boat

was coming to the land. I saw five men dying as they were carried

on stretchers from the boat to the Naval Hospital. The

stretcher-bearers were ordered by Surgeon D. Vanderkieft to pause a

moment that the names of the dying men might be obtained. To the

credit of the officers and their assistants it should be known that

everything was done in the most systematic and careful manner. Each

stretcher had four attendants, who stood in line and came up

promptly, one after the other, to receive the sufferers as they

were carried off the boat. There was no confusion, no noise; all

acted with perfect military order. Ah! it was a solemn funeral

service to many a brave soldier, that was thus being performed by

kind hearts and hands.

"Some had become insane; their wild gaze, and clenched teeth

convinced the observer that reason had fled; others were idiotic; a

few lying in spasms; perhaps the realization of the hope long

cherished, yet oft deferred, or the welcome sound of the music,

sent forth by the military band, was more than their exhausted

nature could bear. When blankets were thrown over them, no one

would have supposed that a human form lay beneath, save for the

small prominences which the bony head and feet indicated. Oh! God

of justice, what retribution awaits the perpetrators of such slow

and awful murder.

"The hair of some was matted together, like beasts of the stall

which lie down in their own filth. Vermin are over them in

abundance. Nearly every man was darkened by scurvy, or black with

rough scales, and with scorbutic sores. One in particular was

reduced to the merest skeleton; his face, neck, and feet covered

with thick, green mould. A number who had Government clothes given

them on the boat were too feeble to put them on, and were carried

ashore partially dressed, hugging their clothing with a death-grasp

that they could not be persuaded to yield. It was not unfrequent to

hear a man feebly call, as he was laid on a stretcher, "Don't take

my clothes;" "Oh, save my new shoes;" "Don't let my socks go back

to Andersonville." In their wild death-struggle, with bony arms and

hands extended, they would hold up their new socks, that could not

be put on because of their swollen limbs, saying 'Save 'em till I

get home.' In a little while, however, the souls of many were

released from their worn-out frames, and borne to that higher home

where all things are registered for a great day of account.

"Let our friends at home have open purses and willing hands to keep

up the supplies for the great demand that must necessarily be made

upon them. Much more must yet be done.

"Thousands now languish in Southern prisons, that may yet be

brought thus far toward home. Let every Aid Society be more

diligent, that the stores of the Sanitary Commission may not fail

in this great work."

Her services at Annapolis were cut short, and prematurely discontinued;

for returning to her home for a short stay, to make preparations for a

longer sojourn at Annapolis, she was again attacked by illness, which

rendered it impossible for her to go thither again.

On her recovery, knowing that an immense amount of ignorance existed

among officers and men concerning the operations of the Sanitary

Commission, she compiled a somewhat elaborate, yet carefully condensed

statement of its plans and workings, together with a great amount of

useful information in relation to the facilities embraced in its system

of special relief, giving a list of all Homes and Lodges, and telling

how to secure back pay for soldiers, on furlough or discharged,

bounties, pensions, etc., etc. Bound up with this, is a choice

collection of hymns, adapted to the soldier's use, the whole forming a

neat little volume of convenient size for the pocket.

The manuscript was submitted to the committee, accepted, and one hundred

thousand copies ordered to be printed for gratuitous distribution in all

the hospitals and camps. The "Soldiers' Friend," as it was called, was

soon distributed in the different departments and posts of the army, and

was even found in the Southern hospitals and prisons, while it was the

pocket companion of men in the trenches, as well as of those in quarters

and hospital. Many thousands were instructed by this little directory,

where to find the lodges, homes and pension offices of the Commission,

and were guarded against imposture and loss. So urgent was the demand

for it, and so useful was it, that the committee ordered a second

edition.

Perhaps no work published by the Sanitary Commission has been of more

real and practical use than this little volume, or has had so large a

circulation. It was the last public work performed for the Commission by

Mrs. Parrish. At the close of the war her labors did not end; but

transferring her efforts to the amelioration of the condition of the

freedmen, she still found herself actively engaged in a work growing

directly out of the war.

MRS. ANNIE WITTENMEYER

Mrs. Annie Wittenmeyer, who, during the early part of the war was widely

known as the State Sanitary Agent of Iowa, and afterward as the

originator of the Diet Kitchens, which being attached to hospitals

proved of the greatest benefit as an adjunct of the medical treatment,

was at the outbreak of the rebellion, residing in quiet seclusion at

Keokuk. With the menace of armed treason to the safety of her country's

institutions, she felt all her patriotic instincts and sentiments

arousing to activity. She laid aside her favorite intellectual pursuits,

and prepared herself to do what a woman might in the emergency which

called into existence a great army, and taxed the Government far beyond

its immediate ability in the matter of Hospital Supplies and the proper

provision for, and care of the sick and wounded.

Early in 1861 rumors of the sufferings of the volunteer soldiery, called

so suddenly to the field, and from healthy northern climates to

encounter the unwholesome and miasmatic exhalations of more southern

regions, as well as the pain of badly-dressed wounds, began to thrill

and grieve the hearts which had willingly though sadly sent them forth

in their country's defense. Mrs. Wittenmeyer saw at once that a field of

usefulness opened before her. Her first movement was to write letters to

every town in her State urging patriotic women in every locality to

organize themselves into Aid Societies, and commence systematically the

work of supplying the imperative needs of the suffering soldiers. These

appeals, and the intense sympathy and patriotism that inspired the

hearts of the women of the North, proved quite sufficient. In Iowa the

earlier Reports were addressed to her, and societies throughout the

State forwarded their goods to the Keokuk Aid Society with which she was

connected. As the agent of this society Mrs. Wittenmeyer went to the

field and distributed these supplies.

Thus her work had its inception--and being still the chosen agent of

distribution, she gave herself no rest. In fact, from the summer of 1861

until the close of the war, she was continually and actively employed in

some department of labor for the soldiers, and did not allow herself so

much as one week for rest.

From June, 1861, to April 1st, 1862, she had received and distributed

goods to the value of $6,000. From that to July 1st, $12,564, and from

that until September 25th, 1862, $2,000, making a total of $20,564

received before her appointment of that date by the Legislature as State

Agent. From that time until her resignation of the office, January 13th,

1864, she received $115,876.93. Thus, in about two years and a half, she

received and distributed more than $136,000 worth of goods and sanitary

stores contributed for the benefit of suffering soldiers.

But while laboring so constantly in the army, Mrs. Wittenmeyer did not

overlook the needs of the destitute at home. In October, 1863, a number

of benevolent individuals, of whom she was one, called a Convention of

Aid Societies, which had for its foremost object to take some steps

toward providing for the wants of the orphans of soldiers. That

Convention led to the establishment of the Iowa Soldiers' Orphans' Home,

an Institution of which the State is now justly proud, and which is

bestowing upon hundreds of children bountiful care and protection.

While laboring in the hospitals at Chattanooga in the winter of 1863-4,

Mrs. Wittenmeyer matured her long-cherished plan for supplying food for

the lowest class of hospital patients, and this led to the establishment

of Diet Kitchens. Believing her idea could be better carried out by the

Christian Commission, than under any other auspices, she soon after

resigned her position as State agent, and became connected with that

organization.

From a little work entitled "Christ in the Army," composed of sketches

by different individuals, and published by the Christian Commission, and

from the Fourth Report of the Maryland Branch of the Christian

Commission, we make the following extracts, relative to Mrs.

Wittenmeyer's labors in this sphere of effort:

"The sick and wounded suffer greatly from the imperfect cooking of the

soldier nurses. To remedy this evil, a number of ladies have offered

themselves as delegates of the Christian Commission, and arrangements

have been made with the medical authorities to establish Diet Kitchens,

where suitable food may be prepared by ladies' hands for our sick

soldiers,--the Government furnishing the staple articles, and the

Christian Commission providing the ladies and the delicacies and

cordials. One of these at Knoxville is thus described by a correspondent

of _The Lutheran_:--

"There have been several large hospitals in this city, but recently they

have been all consolidated into one. In connection with this hospital is

a 'Special Diet Kitchen.' Many of our readers will doubtless wonder what

these 'Special Diet Kitchens' are. They have been originated by Mrs.

Annie Wittenmeyer, of Keokuk, formerly State Sanitary Agent of Iowa. In

her arduous labors in the Army of the Cumberland, she met with a large

number of patients who suffered for want of suitably prepared, delicate

and nutritious food. None of the benevolent institutions in connection

with the army have been able to reach this class of persons. She says,

in her report to the General Assembly of the State: 'This matter has

given me serious and anxious thought for the past year, but I have

recently submitted to the Christian Commission a plan by which I believe

this class of patients may be reached and relieved. The plan proposed,

is the establishment of "Special Diet Kitchens," in connection with that

Commission, to be superintended by earnest, prudent Christian women,

who will secure the distribution of proper food to this class of

patients--taking such delicate articles of food as our good people

supply _to the very bed-sides_ of the poor languishing soldiers, and

administering, with words of encouragement and sympathy, to their

pressing wants; such persons to co-operate with the surgeons in all

their efforts for the sick.' This plan of operations has been sanctioned

and adopted by the United States Christian Commission. There is one in

successful operation at Nashville, under the direction, I believe, of a

daughter of the Honorable J. K. Moorehead, of Pittsburg. The one here is

under the direction of Mrs. R. E. Conrad, of Keokuk, Iowa, and her two

sisters. They are doing a great and good work now in Knoxville. From

three to five hundred patients are thus daily supplied with delicate

food, who would otherwise have scarcely anything to eat. The success of

their labors has demonstrated beyond a doubt the practicability of the

plan of Mrs. Wittenmeyer. The good resulting from their arduous labor

proves that much can be done by these special efforts to rescue those

who are laid upon languishing beds of sickness and pain, and have passed

almost beyond the reach of ordinary means. The great need we have in

connection with these 'Diet Kitchens,' is the want of canned fruits,

jellies, preserves, etc. If our good people, who have already done so

much, will provide these necessary means, they will be distributed to

the most needy, and in such a way as to accomplish the most good."

The War Department is so well satisfied with the value of these Diet

Kitchens, in saving the lives of thousands of invalids, that it has

issued the following special Order:--

SPECIAL ORDERS, No. 362.

WAR DEPARTMENT, ADJUTANT-GENERAL'S OFFICE,

WASHINGTON, D. C., _October 24, 1864_.

[EXTRACT.]

* * * * 56. Permission to visit the United States General

Hospitals, within the lines of the several Military Departments of

the United States, for the purpose of superintending the

preparation of food in the Special Diet Kitchens of the same, is

hereby granted Mrs. Annie Wittenmeyer, Special Agent United States

Christian Commission, and such ladies as she may deem proper to

employ, by request of the United States surgeons. The

Quartermaster's Department will furnish the necessary

transportation.

BY ORDER OF THE SECRETARY OF WAR:

E. D. TOWNSEND,

_Assistant Adjutant-General._

OFFICIAL:

DIET KITCHENS.

Mrs. Annie Wittenmeyer suggested and introduced the use of the Diet

Kitchen into the hospitals. The Kitchen was used extensively among the

Branch Offices of the West. The design of the Kitchen was, to have

prepared for the men who were under treatment, such articles of food and

delicacies as are grateful to the sick, and at the same time may be

allowed with safety. The ladies who were engaged in this department

performed their labors under the direction of the surgeons, who

appointed their stations and approved their preparations. The process

was very much like that of the house in which the surgeon directs, and

the family provides, the nourishing food that is needed for the patient.

Mrs. Wittenmeyer had the Diet Kitchens under her supervision. She was

the agent of the Commission for the purpose. She operated under

regulations which were approved by the Commission and by the War

Department. These regulations were printed and circulated among the

managers of the Kitchens. So effective were the orders under which the

department was conducted, that not the least difficulty or

misunderstanding occurred, notwithstanding the responsible relations of

the co-operators, part being officials of the army and part under the

direction of a voluntary service. Each of the managers was furnished

with a copy of the rules, which, with the endorsement of the branch

office with which the service was connected, constituted the commission

of the manager.

The Special Diet Kitchens, were first adopted in the Department of the

Cumberland, and in that of the Mississippi, and with results so

unexpectedly beneficial, that Mrs. Wittenmeyer was earnestly solicited

to extend the work to the Army of the Potomac. This she did in the

winter of 1864, and it continued until the close of the war with great

success.

Much of this success was undoubtedly owing to the class of ladies

engaged in the work. Many of them were from the highest circles of

society, educated, refined and accomplished, and each was required to

maintain the life and character of an earnest Christian. They thus

commanded the respect of officers and men, and proved a powerful

instrument of good. As we have seen, the Christian Commission has borne

ample testimony to the value of the efforts of Mrs. Wittenmeyer, and her

associates in this department of hospital service.

Mrs. Wittenmeyer continued actively engaged in the service of the

Christian Commission, in the organizing of Diet Kitchens, and similar

labors, until the close of the war, and the disbanding of that

organization, when she returned to her home in Keokuk, to resume the

quiet life she had abandoned, and to gain needed repose, after her four

years' effort in behalf of our suffering defenders.

MISS MELCENIA ELLIOTT.

Among the heroic and devoted women who have labored for the soldiers of

the Union in the late war, and endured all the dangers and privations of

hospital life, is Miss Melcenia Elliott, of Iowa. Born in Indiana, and

reared in the Northern part of Iowa, she grew to womanhood amid the

scenes and associations of country life, with an artless, impulsive and

generous nature, superior physical health, and a heart warm with the

love of country and humanity. Her father is a prosperous farmer, and

gave three of his sons to the struggle for the Union, who served

honorably to the end of their enlistment, and one of them re-enlisted as

a veteran, performing oftentimes the perilous duties of a spy, that he

might obtain valuable information to guide the movements of our forces.

The daughter, at the breaking out of the war, was pursuing her studies

at Washington College, in Iowa, an institution open to both sexes, and

under the patronage of the United Presbyterian Church. But the sound of

fife and drum, the organization of regiments composed of her friends and

neighbors, and the enlistment of her brothers in the grand army of the

Union fired her ardent soul with patriotism, and an intense desire to

help on the cause in which the soldiers had taken up the implements of

warfare.

For many months her thoughts were far more with the soldiers in the

field than on the course of study in the college, and as soon as there

began to be a demand for female nurses in the hospitals, she was prompt

to offer her services and was accepted.

The summer and autumn of 1862, found her in the hospitals in Tennessee,

ready on all occasions for the most difficult posts of service,

ministering at the bed-side of the sick and desponding, cheering them

with her warm words of encouragement and sympathy, and her pleasant

smile and ready mirthfulness, the very best antidote to the depression

of spirits and home-sickness of the worn and tired soldier. In all

hospital work, in the offices of nursing and watching, and giving of

medicines, in the preparation of special diet, in the care and attention

necessary to have the hospital beds clean and comfortable, and the wards

in proper order, she was untiring and never gave way to weariness or

failed in strength. It was pleasant to see with what ease and

satisfaction she could lift up a sick soldier's head, smooth and arrange

his pillow, lift him into an easier position, dress his wounds, and make

him feel that somebody cared for him.

During the winter of 1862-3, she was a nurse in one of the hospitals at

Memphis, and rendered most useful and excellent service. An example of

her heroism and fortitude occurred here, that is worthy of being

mentioned. In one of the hospitals there was a sick soldier who came

from her father's neighborhood in Iowa, whom she had known, and for

whose family she felt a friendly interest. She often visited him in the

sick ward where he was, and did what she could to alleviate his

sufferings, and comfort him in his illness. But gradually he became

worse, and at a time when he needed her sympathy and kind attention more

than ever, the Surgeon in charge of the hospital, issued an order that

excluded all visitors from the wards, during those portions of the day

when she could leave the hospital where she was on duty, to make these

visits to her sick neighbor and friend. The front entrance of the

hospital being guarded, she could not gain admission; but she had too

much resolution, energy and courage, and too much kindness of heart, to

be thwarted in her good intentions by red tape. Finding that by scaling

a high fence in the rear of the hospital, she could enter without being

obstructed by guards, and being aided in her purpose by the nurses on

duty in the ward, she made her visits in the evening to the sick man's

bed-side till he died. As it was his dying wish that his remains might

be carried home to his family, none of whom were present, she herself

undertook the difficult and responsible task. Getting leave of absence

from her own duties, without the requisite funds for the purpose, she

was able, by her frank and open address, her self-reliance, intelligence

and courage to accomplish the task, and made the journey alone, with the

body in charge; all the way from Memphis to Washington, Iowa, overcoming

all difficulties of procuring transportation, and reaching her

destination successfully. By this act of heroism, she won the gratitude

of many hearts, and gave comfort and satisfaction to the friends and

relatives of the departed soldier.

Returning as far as St. Louis, she was transferred to the large military

hospital at Benton Barracks and did not return to Memphis. Here for many

months, during the spring, summer and autumn of 1863, she served most

faithfully, and was considered one of the most efficient and capable

nurses in the hospital. At this place she was associated with a band of

noble young women, under the supervision of that excellent lady, Miss

Emily Parsons, of Cambridge, Massachusetts, who came out from her

pleasant New England home to be at the head of the nursing department of

this hospital, (then in charge of Surgeon Ira Russell, United States

Volunteers), and to do her part towards taking care of the sick and

wounded men who had perilled their lives for their country. A warm

friendship grew up between these noble women, and Miss Parsons never

ceased to regard with deep interest, the tall, heroic, determined girl,

who never allowed any obstacle to stand between her and any useful

service she could render to the defenders of her country.

Another incident of her fearless and undaunted bravery will illustrate

her character, and especially the self-sacrificing spirit by which she

was animated. During the summer of 1863, it became necessary to

establish a ward for cases of erysipelas, a disease generating an

unhealthy atmosphere and propagating itself by that means. The surgeon

in charge, instead of assigning a female nurse of his own selection to

this ward, called for a _volunteer_, among the women nurses of the

hospital. There was naturally some hesitancy about taking so trying and

dangerous a position, and, seeing this reluctance on the part of others,

Miss Elliott promptly offered herself for the place. For several months

she performed her duties in the erysipelas ward with the same constancy

and regard for the welfare of the patients that had characterized her in

other positions. It was here the writer of this sketch first became

acquainted with her, and noticed the cheerful and cordial manner in

which she waited upon the sufferers under her care, going from one to

another to perform some office of kindness, always with words of genuine

sympathy, pleasantry and good will.

Late in the fall of 1863, Miss Elliott yielded to the wishes of the

Western Sanitary Commission, and became matron of the Refugee Home of

St. Louis--a charitable institution made necessary by the events of the

war, and designed to give shelter and assistance to poor families of

refugees, mostly widows and children, who were constantly arriving from

the exposed and desolated portions of Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee,

Louisiana, Mississippi and Texas, sent North often by military authority

as deck passengers on Government boats to get them away from the

military posts in our possession further South. For one year Miss

Elliott managed the internal affairs of this institution with great

efficiency and good judgment, under circumstances that were very trying

to her patience and fortitude. Many of the refugees were of the class

called "the poor white trash" of the South, filthy, ragged, proud,

indolent, ill-mannered, given to the smoking and chewing of tobacco,

often diseased, inefficient, and either unwilling or unable to conform

to the necessary regulations of the Home, or to do their own proper

share of the work of the household, and the keeping of their apartments

in a state of cleanliness and order.

It was a great trial of her Christian patience to see families of

children of all ages, dirty, ragged, and ill-mannered, lounging in the

halls and at the front door, and their mothers doing little better

themselves, getting into disputes with each other, or hovering round a

stove, chewing or smoking tobacco, and leaving the necessary work

allotted to them neglected and undone. But out of this material and this

confusion Miss Elliott, by her efficiency and force of character,

brought a good degree of cleanliness and order. Among other things she

established a school in the Home, gathered the children into it in the

evening, taught them to spell, read and sing, and inspired them with a

desire for knowledge.

At the end of a year of this kind of work Miss Elliott was called to the

position of matron of the Soldiers' Orphans' Home, at Farmington, Iowa,

which she accepted and filled for several months, with her usual

efficiency and success, when, after long and arduous service for the

soldiers, for the refugees and for the orphans of our country's

defenders, she returned to the home of her family, and to the society

and occupations for which she was preparing herself before the war.

MARY DWIGHT PETTES.

To one who was accustomed to visit the military hospitals of St. Louis,

during the first years of the war, the meeting with Mary Dwight Pettes

in her ministry to the sick and wounded soldiers must always return as a

pleasant and sacred memory. And such an one will not fail to recall how

she carried to the men pleasant reading, how she sat by their bed-sides

speaking words of cheer and sympathy, and singing songs of country,

home, and heaven, with a voice of angelic sweetness. Nor, how after

having by her own exertions procured melodeons for the hospital chapels,

she would play for the soldiers in their Sabbath worship, and bring her

friends to make a choir to assist in their religious services.

Slender in form, her countenance radiant with intelligence, and her dark

eyes beaming with sympathy and kindness, it was indeed a pleasant

surprise to see one so young and delicate, going about from hospital to

hospital to find opportunities of doing good to the wan and suffering,

and crippled heroes, who had been brought from hard-fought battle-fields

to be cared for at the North.

But no one of the true Sisters of Mercy, who gave themselves to this

service during the war, felt more intense and genuine satisfaction in

her labors than she, and not one is more worthy of our grateful

remembrance, now that she has passed away from the scene of her joys and

her labors forever.

Mary Dwight Pettes was born in Boston, Massachusetts, in the year 1841,

and belonged to a family who were eminent for their intelligence, and

religious and moral worth. The circumstances of her early life and

education are unknown to the writer of this sketch, but must have been

such as to develop that purity of mind and manners, that sweetness and

amiability of temper, that ready sympathy and disinterestedness of

purpose and conduct, which, together with rare conversational and

musical powers, she possessed in so high a degree.

Having an uncle and his family resident in St. Louis, the first year of

the war found her in that city, engaged in the work of ministering to

the soldiers in the hospitals with her whole heart and soul. During the

first winter of the great rebellion (1862) St. Louis was filled with

troops, and there were thirteen hospitals thronged with the sick and

wounded from the early battle-fields of the war. On the 30th of January

of that year she thus wrote to the Boston _Transcript_, over her own

initials, some account of her labors and observations at that time.

Speaking of the hospitals she said, "It is here that the evils and

horrors of the war become very apparent. Here stout hearts are broken.

You see great numbers of the brave young men of the Western States, who

have left their homes to fight for their country. They were willing to

be wounded, shot, to die, if need be, but after months of inaction they

find themselves conquered by dysentery or fever. Some fifty or sixty

each week are borne to their long home. This may have been unavoidable,

but it is hard to bear. * * * * Last night I returned home in the

evening. It was dark, rainy, cold and muddy. I passed an ambulance in

the street. The two horses had each a leader walking beside them, which

indicated that a very sick soldier was within. It was a sad sight; and

yet this poor man could not be moved, when he arrived at the

hospital-door, until his papers were examined to see if they conformed

to 'Army Regulations,' I protest against the coldness with which the

Regulations treat the sick and wounded soldiers."

No doubt her sympathetic heart protested against all delays and all

seeming indifference to the welfare of the poor fellows on whose

bravery and devotion the salvation of the country depended.

In her devotion to the sick and wounded in the hospitals, and her labors

of love among them, she sacrificed many of her own comforts and

pleasures. Notwithstanding the delicacy of her own health she _would_ go

about among them doing them good.

She took great interest in seeing the soldiers engaged in religious

worship, and in assisting to conduct the exercises of praise and

thanksgiving. When these services were ended she used to go from ward to

ward, and passing to the bed-side of those who were too weak to join the

worship in the chapel would read to them the blessed words of comfort

contained in the Book of Life, and sing to them the sweet hymn, "Jesus,

I love thy charming name."

In one of her papers she has left this record. "For a year I have

visited the hospitals constantly, and during that time they have been

crowded with sick and wounded soldiers. I never had any idea what

suffering was until I had been in the wards after the battles of Fort

Donelson, Pittsburg Landing, and Pea Ridge. The poor fellows are so

patient too, and so grateful for any little service or attention."

In another letter, speaking of the great civil war in which we were then

engaged, she wrote, "Still I have hope, trusting in the justice of God.

Being a constant visitor to the hospitals in and about this city, I have

taken great pleasure in relieving the physical as well as the spiritual

wants of the sick and wounded, as far as it has been in my power,

proving to them that they have sympathizing friends near them, although

their home-friends may be far away. I have encouraged them to be

cheerful, and bear their sufferings with heroic fortitude, trusting in

God, and a happier and better future. It has seemed to me that I do them

some good when I find them watching for my coming, and that every face

brightens as I enter the ward, while many say to me, 'We are always glad

to see you come. It cheers and comforts us mightily to have you come so

bright and smiling, asking us how we do, and saying always some pleasant

word, and giving us something good to read. Then we love to hear you

sing to us. Sometimes it makes the tears come in our eyes, but it kind

o' lifts us up, and makes us feel better. We sometimes wonder you come

here so much among us poor fellows, but we have come to the conclusion

that your heart is in the cause for which we are fighting, and that you

want to help and cheer us so that we may get well and go back to our

regiments, and finish up the work of putting down this infernal

rebellion.'"

"One day as I lifted up the head of a poor boy, who was languidly

drooping, and smoothed and fixed his pillow, he said, 'Thank you; that's

nice. You are so gentle and good to me that I almost fancy I am at home,

and that sister Mary is waiting upon me.'"

"Such expressions of their interest and gratitude," she adds, "encourage

me in this work, and I keep on, though often my strength almost fails

me, and my heart is filled with sadness, as I see one after another of

the poor fellows wasting away, and in a few days their cots are empty

and they sleep the sleep that knows no waking this side of the grave."

Thus she labored on in her work of self-sacrificing love and devotion,

with no compensation but the satisfaction that she was doing good, until

late in the month of December, 1862, she was attacked with the typhoid

fever, which she, no doubt, had contracted in the infected air of the

hospitals, and died on the 14th of January, 1863. During her five weeks

of illness her thoughts were constantly with the soldiers, and in her

delirium she would imagine she was among them in their sick wards, and

would often speak to them words of consolation and sympathy.

In a letter of Rev. Dr. Eliot, the Unitarian Pastor, of St. Louis,

published in the _Christian Register_ on the following May, he gives the

impression she had left upon those with whom she had been sometimes

associated in her labors. Miss Pettes was a Unitarian in her religious

faith, and this fact was known to one of the excellent Chaplains who

regularly officiated in the hospitals at St. Louis, and who belonged to

the Old School Presbyterian Church. He had, however, been very glad of

her co-operation and assistance in his work, and in conducting religious

worship in the hospitals, and thus spoke of her to Dr. Eliot, some

months after her death. "Chaplain P. said to me to-day, 'Can you not

send me some one to take the place of Mary Pettes, who died literally a

martyr to the cause six months ago?' 'I don't think,' said he, 'that you

can find another as good as she, for her whole heart was in it, and she

was like sunshine to the hospital. But,' he added, 'all your people [the

Unitarians] work as if they really cared for the soldiers and loved the

cause, and I want more of them.'"

Such was the impression of her goodness and worth, and moral beauty left

by this New England girl upon the minds of those who saw her going about

in the hospitals of St. Louis, during the first year and a-half of the

war, trying to do her part in the great work given us to do as a nation,

and falling a martyr, quite as much as those who fell on the field of

battle, to the cause of her country and liberty:--such the brief record

of a true and spotless life given, in its virgin purity and loveliness,

as a sacrifice well pleasing to God.

LOUISA MAERTZ.

During the winter of 1863, while stationed at Helena, Arkansas, the

writer was greatly impressed with the heroic devotion to the welfare of

the sick soldier, of a lady whom he often met in the hospitals, where

she was constantly engaged in services of kindness to the suffering

inmates, attending to their wants, and alleviating their distress. He

soon learned that her name was Louisa Maertz, of Quincy, Illinois, who

had come from her home all the way to Helena--at a time when the

navigation of the river was rendered dangerous by the firing of

guerrillas from the shore upon the passing steamers--that she might

devote herself to the work of a hospital nurse. At a later period, when

he learned that she had left a pleasant home for this arduous service,

and saw how bravely she endured the discomforts of hospital life in

Helena, where there was not a single well-ordered and well-provided

hospital; how she went from one building to another through the filthy

and muddy town, to carry the delicacies she had obtained from the

Sanitary Commission, and dispense them to the sick, with her own hands,

he was still more impressed with these evidences of her "good, heroic

womanhood," and her disinterested benevolence. Recently he has procured

a few particulars of her history, which will serve for a brief sketch.

Miss Maertz was born in Quincy, Illinois, in 1838. Her parents were of

German birth, and among the early settlers of the place. From infancy

she was of a delicate constitution, and suffered much from ill health;

and at the age of eighteen years she was sent to Europe in the hope that

she might derive benefit from the mineral springs of Germany and from

travel and change of climate. Two years in Germany, Switzerland and

Italy were spent in traveling and in the society of her relatives, some

of whom were the personal friends of the Monods of Paris, Guizot, the

Gurneys of England, Merle D'Aubigne, of Geneva, and other literary

people of Europe, with several of whom she became acquainted. From this

visit abroad she received much benefit, and her general health was

greatly improved.

From an early period she had cherished two strong aspirations, the

desire of knowledge, and the wish to devote herself to works of charity.

Her heart was always ready to sympathize with the sufferings and sorrows

of humanity; and the cause of the orphan, the slave, the poor and the

helpless excited a deep interest in her mind, and a desire to devote

herself in some way to their relief. After her return from Europe it

became an absorbing aspiration and the subject of earnest prayer that

God would show her some way in which she could be useful to humanity.

As she was thus becoming prepared for the work upon which she afterwards

entered, the great rebellion, which involved the country in the late

civil war, broke forth; the early battles in Missouri, and at Fort

Donelson and Belmont led to the establishment of hospitals in St. Louis,

at Mound City, and at Quincy, Illinois; and the opportunity came to Miss

Maertz, which she had so long desired, to undertake some work of charity

and benevolence. During the months of October and November, 1861, she

commenced the daily visitation of the hospitals in Quincy, carried with

her delicacies for the sick and distributed them, procured the redress

of any grievances they suffered, read the Scriptures and conversed with

them, wrote letters for them to their friends, dressed their wounds, and

furnished them books, papers, and sources of amusement. Although her

physical strength at this period was very moderate, she seemed, on

entering the hospital, and witnessing the sufferings of brave men, who

had dared everything for their country, to be infused with a new and

strange vigor that sustained her through every exertion.

In particular cases of tedious convalescence, retarded by inferior

hospital accommodations, she--with her parents' consent--obtained

permission to take them home, and nurse them till they were restored to

health. Thus she labored on through the fall and winter of 1861-2 till

the battles of Shiloh and Pea Ridge filled the hospitals with wounded

men, at St. Louis and Mound City, and at Louisville and Evansville and

Paducah, and she began to feel that she must go where her services were

more needed, and give herself wholly to this work of caring for and

nursing the wounded patriots of the war.

After waiting some time for an opportunity to go she wrote to Mr. James

E. Yeatman, at St. Louis, the agent of Miss Dorothea L. Dix for the

appointment of women nurses in the hospitals of the Western Department,

and was accepted. On reporting herself at St. Louis she was commissioned

as a nurse, and in the fall of 1862 proceeded to Helena, where the army

of the Southwest had encamped the previous July, under Major-General

Curtis, and where every church and several private buildings had to be

converted into hospitals to accommodate the sick of his army.

It was here, during the winter of 1863, that the writer of this sketch

first met with Miss Maertz, engaged in the work of a hospital nurse,

enduring with rare heroism sacrifices and discomforts, labors and

watchings in the service of the sick soldiers that won the reverence and

admiration of all who saw this gentle woman thus nobly employed. It was

of her the following paragraph was written in the History of the Western

Sanitary Commission.

"Another one we also know whose name is likewise in this simple record,

who, at Helena, Arkansas, in the fall and winter of 1862-3, was almost

the only female nurse in the hospitals there, going from one building to

another, in which the sick were quartered, when the streets were almost

impassable with mud, administering sanitary stores and making delicate

preparations of food, spending her own money in procuring milk and other

articles that were scarce and difficult to obtain, and doing an amount

of work which few persons could sustain, living without the pleasant

society to which she had been accustomed at home, never murmuring,

always cheerful and kind, preserving in the midst of a military camp

such gentleness, strength and purity of character that all rudeness of

speech ceased in her presence, and as she went from room to room she was

received with silent benedictions, or an audible 'God bless you, dear

lady,' from some poor sufferer's heart."

The last time I saw Miss Maertz, while engaged in her hospital work, was

at the grave of a soldier, who was buried at Helena in the spring of

1863. He was one of the persecuted Union men of Arkansas, who had

enlisted in the Union army on the march of General Curtis through

Arkansas, and had fallen sick at Helena. For several weeks Miss Maertz

had nursed and cared for him with all a woman's tenderness and delicacy,

and perceiving that he must die had succeeded in sending a message to

his wife, who lived sixty miles in the interior of Arkansas, within the

enemy's lines. On the afternoon of his death and but a few hours before

it she arrived, having walked the whole distance on foot with great

difficulty, because she was partially blind; but had the satisfaction of

receiving the parting words of her husband and attending his burial.

Miss Maertz sent word to me, asking me to perform the burial service,

and the next day I met her leading the half-blind widow, in her poverty

and sorrow, to the grave. Some months later this poor soldier's widow

came to the Refugee Home, at St. Louis, and was cared for, and being

recognized and the scene of the lonely burial referred to, she related

with tears of gratitude the kindness she received from the good lady,

who nursed her husband in his last illness at Helena.

At a later period in the service, Miss Maertz was transferred to the

hospitals at Vicksburg, where she continued her work of benevolence till

she was obliged to return home to restore her own exhausted energies. At

this time her parents urged her to go with them to Europe, wishing to

take her away from scenes of suffering, and prostrating disease, but she

declined to go, and, on regaining a measure of health, entered the

service again and continued in it at New Orleans to the end of the war.

In real devotion to the welfare of the soldiers of the Union; in high

religious and patriotic motives; in the self-sacrificing spirit with

which she performed her labors; in the heroism with which she endured

hardship for the sake of doing good; in the readiness with which she

gave up her own interests and the offer of personal advantages and

pleasure to serve the cause of patriotism and humanity, she had few

equals.

MRS. HARRIET R. COLFAX.

This lady whose services merit all the praise which has been bestowed

upon them, is a resident of Michigan City, Indiana, the still youthful

widow of a near relative of the Honorable Schuyler Colfax, the present

Speaker of the House of Representatives.

Her father, during her youth, was long an invalid, and his enforced

seclusion from all business pursuits was spent in bestowing instruction

upon his children. His conversations with his children, and the lessons

in history which he gave them were made the means of instilling great

moral ideas, and amidst all others an ardent love of their native

country and its institutions. At the same period of the life of Mrs.

Colfax, she was blest with a mother whose large and active benevolence

led her to spend much time in visiting and ministering to the sick. Her

daughter often accompanied her, and as often was sent alone upon like

errands. Thus she learned the practice of the sentiments which caused

her, in the hour of her country's trial, to lend such energetic and

cheerful aid to its wounded defenders.

Previous to the commencement of the war Mrs. Colfax had lost her husband

and her father. Her mother remained to advise and guide the young widow

and her fatherless children, and it was to her that she turned for

counsel, when, on the announcement of the need of female nurses in the

hospitals that were so soon filled with sick and wounded, Mrs. Colfax

felt herself impelled to devote herself to this service and ministry.

Her mother and other friends disapproved of her going, and said all

they could in opposition. She listened, and delayed, but finally felt

that she must yield to the impulse. The opposition was withdrawn, and on

the last of October, 1861, she started for St. Louis to enter the

hospitals there.

Her heart was very desolate as she entered this strange city alone, at

ten o'clock at night. Mr. Yeatman, with whom communication had been

opened relative to her coming, had neglected to give her definite

directions how to proceed. But she heard some surgeons talking of the

hospitals, and learned that they belonged to them. From them she

obtained the address of Mr. Yeatman. A gentleman, as she left the cars,

stepped forward and kindly and respectfully placed her in the omnibus

which was to take her across the river. She turned to thank him, but he

was gone. Yet these occurrences, small as they were, had given her

renewed courage--she no longer felt quite friendless, but went

cheerfully upon her way.

She proceeded to the Fifth Street Hospital, where Mr. Yeatman had his

quarters, and was admitted by the use of his name. The night nurse, Mrs.

Gibson, took kind charge of her for that night, and in the morning she

was introduced to the matron, Mrs. Plummer, and to Mr. Yeatman. She had

her first sight of wounded men on the night of her arrival, and the

thought of their sufferings, and of how much could be done to alleviate

them, made her forget herself, an obliviousness from which she did not

for weeks recover.

She was assigned to the first ward in which there had been till then no

female nurse, and soon found full employment for hands, mind and heart.

The reception room for patients was on the same floor with her ward, and

the sufferers had to be taken through it to reach the others, so that

she was forced to witness every imaginable phase of suffering and

misery, and her sympathies never became blunted. Many of these men lived

but a short time after being brought in, and one man standing with his

knapsack on to have his name and regiment noted down, fell to the floor

as it was supposed in a swoon, but was found to be dead.

For some time when men were dying all around with typhus fever and

wounds, no clergyman of any denomination visited them. Mrs. Colfax and

other ladies would often at their request offer up prayers, but they

felt that regular religious ministrations were needed. After a time

through the intercession of a lady, a resident of St. Louis, the Rev.

Dr. Schuyler came often to supply this want, giving great comfort to the

sufferers.

About this time, the ward surgeon was removed, and another substituted

in his place, Dr. Paddock. This gentleman thus speaks of the services

and character of Mrs. Colfax:

ST. LOUIS, _March_ 2d, 1866.

"Among the many patriotic and benevolent Christian ladies who

volunteered their services to aid, comfort, and alleviate the

suffering of the sick and wounded soldiers of the Union Army in the

late wicked and woful Rebellion, I know of none more deserving of

honorable mention and memory, than Mrs. Harriet R. Colfax. I first

met her in the Fifth Street General Hospital of this city, where I

was employed in the spring of 1862; and subsequently in the General

Hospital, at Jefferson Barracks, in 1863. In both these hospitals

she was employed in the wards under my care, and subject to my

immediate orders and observation. In both, she was uniformly the

same industrious, indefatigable, attentive, kind, and sympathizing

nurse and friend of the sick and wounded soldier. She prepared

delicacies and cordials, and often obtained them to prepare from

her friends abroad, in addition to such as were furnished by the

Sanitary Commission. She administered them with her own hands in

such a manner as only a sympathizing and loving woman can; and thus

won the heartfelt gratitude and affection of every soldier to whom

it was her duty and her delight to administer. No female nurse in

either of the hospitals above named, and there was a large number

in each of them, was more universally beloved and respected, than

was Mrs. Colfax. I had not the opportunity to witness her services

and privations, and vexations on hospital steamers, or elsewhere

than in the two places named above; but I know that they were

considerable; and that everywhere and under all circumstances, she

was alike active and honored."

In Dr. Paddock, Mrs. Colfax truly found a friend, and she was able to

accomplish a greater amount of good under his kind directions. The Ward

was crowded. The wounded arrived from Fort Donelson in a miserable

condition. From exposure, many were dangerously ill with pneumonia, and

died very soon; few recovered, but the wounded did much better than the

sick, and were so patient and cheerful, that even those suffering from

the worst wounds, or amputations, would hardly have been known not to be

well, save by their pale faces and weak voices. Many would not give way

till the last moment, but with strong courage, and brave cheerfulness,

would close their eyes on things of earth, and pass silently into the

unseen world.

In the spring, Mrs. Colfax, finding herself much worn by severe work and

frequent colds, gladly availed herself of the change offered by a trip

on the Hospital-boat, Louisiana, then just fitted up by the Sanitary

Commission.

At Cairo, they received orders to proceed to Island No. 10, and there

unexpectedly found themselves in the well-known battle which took place

at that point on the 16th, 17th, and 18th of March, 1862.

The Batteries of the enemy, on the banks and Island, were engaged with

the Union gunboats. The firing was incessant and protracted, but not

very disastrous. At last the firing from one of the gunboats resulted in

the killing and wounding of a number of the enemy, which last were

brought on board the Louisiana for care. After remaining there ten days,

the Louisiana returned to Cairo, and receiving on board the wounded from

Mound City Hospital, carried them to Cincinnati. Mrs. Colfax and her

friends were very busy in the care of these poor men, many of them very

low, giving unceasing attentions to them, and even then feeling that

they had not done half enough.