A DAY.
"They've come! they've come! hurry up, ladies--you're wanted."
"Who have come? the rebels?"
This sudden summons in the gray dawn was somewhat startling to a three
days' nurse like myself, and, as the thundering knock came at our door,
I sprang up in my bed, prepared
"To gird my woman's form,
And on the ramparts die,"
if necessary; but my room-mate took it more coolly, and, as she began a
rapid toilet, answered my bewildered question,--
"Bless you, no child; it's the wounded from Fredericksburg; forty
ambulances are at the door, and we shall have our hands full in fifteen
minutes."
"What shall we have to do?"
"Wash, dress, feed, warm and nurse them for the next three months, I
dare say. Eighty beds are ready, and we were getting impatient for the
men to come. Now you will begin to see hospital life in earnest, for
you won't probably find time to sit down all day, and may think
yourself fortunate if you get to bed by midnight. Come to me in the
ball-room when you are ready; the worst cases are always carried there,
and I shall need your help."
So saying, the energetic little woman twirled her hair into a button at
the back of her head, in a "cleared for action" sort of style, and
vanished, wrestling her way into a feminine kind of pea-jacket as she
went.
I am free to confess that I had a realizing sense of the fact that my
hospital bed was not a bed of roses just then, or the prospect before
me one of unmingled rapture. My three days' experiences had begun with
a death, and, owing to the defalcation of another nurse, a somewhat
abrupt plunge into the superintendence of a ward containing forty beds,
where I spent my shining hours washing faces, serving rations, giving
medicine, and sitting in a very hard chair, with pneumonia on one side,
diphtheria on the other, five typhoids on the opposite, and a dozen
dilapidated patriots, hopping, lying, and lounging about, all staring
more or less at the new "nuss," who suffered untold agonies, but
concealed them under as matronly an aspect as a spinster could assume,
and blundered through her trying labors with a Spartan firmness, which
I hope they appreciated, but am afraid they didn't. Having a taste for
"ghastliness," I had rather longed for the wounded to arrive, for
rheumatism wasn't heroic, neither was liver complaint, or measles; even
fever had lost its charms since "bathing burning brows" had been used
up in romances, real and ideal; but when I peeped into the dusky street
lined with what I at first had innocently called market carts, now
unloading their sad freight at our door, I recalled sundry
reminiscences I had heard from nurses of longer standing, my ardor
experienced a sudden chill, and I indulged in a most unpatriotic wish
that I was safe at home again, with a quiet day before me, and no
necessity for being hustled up, as if I were a hen and had only to hop
off my roost, give my plumage a peck, and be ready for action. A second
bang at the door sent this recreant desire to the right about, as a
little woolly head popped in, and Joey, (a six years' old contraband,)
announced--
"Miss Blank is jes' wild fer ye, and says fly round right away. They's
comin' in, I tell yer, heaps on 'em--one was took out dead, and I see
him,--ky! warn't he a goner!"
With which cheerful intelligence the imp scuttled away, singing like a
blackbird, and I followed, feeling that Richard was _not_ himself again,
and wouldn't be for a long time to come.
The first thing I met was a regiment of the vilest odors that ever
assaulted the human nose, and took it by storm. Cologne, with its seven
and seventy evil savors, was a posy-bed to it; and the worst of this
affliction was, every one had assured me that it was a chronic weakness
of all hospitals, and I must bear it. I did, armed with lavender water,
with which I so besprinkled myself and premises, that, like my friend
Sairy, I was soon known among my patients as "the nurse with the
bottle." Having been run over by three excited surgeons, bumped against
by migratory coal-hods, water-pails, and small boys, nearly scalded by
an avalanche of newly-filled tea-pots, and hopelessly entangled in a
knot of colored sisters coming to wash, I progressed by slow stages up
stairs and down, till the main hall was reached, and I paused to take
breath and a survey. There they were! "our brave boys," as the papers
justly call them, for cowards could hardly have been so riddled with
shot and shell, so torn and shattered, nor have borne suffering for
which we have no name, with an uncomplaining fortitude, which made one
glad to cherish each as a brother. In they came, some on stretchers,
some in men's arms, some feebly staggering along propped on rude
crutches, and one lay stark and still with covered face, as a comrade
gave his name to be recorded before they carried him away to the dead
house. All was hurry and confusion; the hall was full of these wrecks
of humanity, for the most exhausted could not reach a bed till duly
ticketed and registered; the walls were lined with rows of such as
could sit, the floor covered with the more disabled, the steps and
door-ways filled with helpers and lookers on; the sound of many feet and
voices made that usually quiet hour as noisy as noon; and, in the midst
of it all, the matron's motherly face brought more comfort to many a
poor soul, than the cordial draughts she administered, or the cheery
words that welcomed all, making of the hospital a home.
The sight of several stretchers, each with its legless, armless, or
desperately wounded occupant, entering my ward, admonished me that I
was there to work, not to wonder or weep; so I corked up my feelings,
and returned to the path of duty, which was rather "a hard road to
travel" just then. The house had been a hotel before hospitals were
needed, and many of the doors still bore their old names; some not so
inappropriate as might be imagined, for my ward was in truth a
_ball-room,_ if gun-shot wounds could christen it. Forty beds were
prepared, many already tenanted by tired men who fell down anywhere,
and drowsed till the smell of food roused them. Round the great stove
was gathered the dreariest group I ever saw--ragged, gaunt and pale,
mud to the knees, with bloody bandages untouched since put on days
before; many bundled up in blankets, coats being lost or useless; and
all wearing that disheartened look which proclaimed defeat, more
plainly than any telegram of the Burnside blunder. I pitied them so
much, I dared not speak to them, though, remembering all they had been
through since the rout at Fredericksburg, I yearned to serve the
dreariest of them all. Presently, Miss Blank tore me from my refuge
behind piles of one-sleeved shirts, odd socks, bandages and lint; put
basin, sponge, towels, and a block of brown soap into my hands, with
these appalling directions:
"Come, my dear, begin to wash as fast as you can. Tell them to take off
socks, coats and shirts, scrub them well, put on clean shirts, and the
attendants will finish them off, and lay them in bed."
If she had requested me to shave them all, or dance a hornpipe on the
stove funnel, I should have been less staggered; but to scrub some
dozen lords of creation at a moment's notice, was really--really----.
However, there was no time for nonsense, and, having resolved when I
came to do everything I was bid, I drowned my scruples in my wash-bowl,
clutched my soap manfully, and, assuming a business-like air, made a
dab at the first dirty specimen I saw, bent on performing my task vi et
armis if necessary. I chanced to light on a withered old Irishman,
wounded in the head, which caused that portion of his frame to be
tastefully laid out like a garden, the bandages being the walks, his
hair the shrubbery. He was so overpowered by the honor of having a lady
wash him, as he expressed it, that he did nothing but roll up his eyes,
and bless me, in an irresistible style which was too much for my sense
of the ludicrous; so we laughed together, and when I knelt down to take
off his shoes, he "flopped" also and wouldn't hear of my touching
"them dirty craters. May your bed above be aisy darlin', for the day's
work ye ar doon!--Whoosh! there ye are, and bedad, it's hard tellin'
which is the dirtiest, the fut or the shoe." It was; and if he hadn't
been to the fore, I should have gone on pulling, under the impression
that the "fut" was a boot, for trousers, socks, shoes and legs were a
mass of mud. This comical tableau produced a general grin, at which
propitious beginning I took heart and scrubbed away like any tidy
parent on a Saturday night. Some of them took the performance like
sleepy children, leaning their tired heads against me as I worked,
others looked grimly scandalized, and several of the roughest colored
like bashful girls. One wore a soiled little bag about his neck, and,
as I moved it, to bathe his wounded breast, I said,
"Your talisman didn't save you, did it?"
"Well, I reckon it did, marm, for that shot would a gone a couple a
inches deeper but for my old mammy's camphor bag," answered the
cheerful philosopher.
Another, with a gun-shot wound through the cheek, asked for a
looking-glass, and when I brought one, regarded his swollen face with a
dolorous expression, as he muttered--
"I vow to gosh, that's too bad! I warn't a bad looking chap before, and
now I'm done for; won't there be a thunderin' scar? and what on earth
will Josephine Skinner say?"
He looked up at me with his one eye so appealingly, that I controlled
my risibles, and assured him that if Josephine was a girl of sense, she
would admire the honorable scar, as a lasting proof that he had faced
the enemy, for all women thought a wound the best decoration a brave
soldier could wear. I hope Miss Skinner verified the good opinion I so
rashly expressed of her, but I shall never know.
The next scrubbee was a nice looking lad, with a curly brown mane, and
a budding trace of gingerbread over the lip, which he called his beard,
and defended stoutly, when the barber jocosely suggested its
immolation. He lay on a bed, with one leg gone, and the right arm so
shattered that it must evidently follow; yet the little Sergeant was as
merry as if his afflictions were not worth lamenting over, and when a
drop or two of salt water mingled with my suds at the sight of this
strong young body, so marred and maimed, the boy looked up, with a
brave smile, though there was a little quiver of the lips, as he said,
"Now don't you fret yourself about me, miss; I'm first rate here, for
it's nuts to lie still on this bed, after knocking about in those
confounded ambulances, that shake what there is left of a fellow to
jelly. I never was in one of these places before, and think this
cleaning up a jolly thing for us, though I'm afraid it isn't for you
ladies."
"Is this your first battle, Sergeant?"
"No, miss; I've been in six scrimmages, and never got a scratch till
this last one; but it's done the business pretty thoroughly for me, I
should say. Lord! what a scramble there'll be for arms and legs, when
we old boys come out of our graves, on the Judgment Day: wonder if we
shall get our own again? If we do, my leg will have to tramp from
Fredericksburg, my arm from here, I suppose, and meet my body, wherever
it may be."
The fancy seemed to tickle him mightily, for he laughed blithely, and
so did I; which, no doubt, caused the new nurse to be regarded as a
light-minded sinner by the Chaplain, who roamed vaguely about,
informing the men that they were all worms, corrupt of heart, with
perishable bodies, and souls only to be saved by a diligent perusal of
certain tracts, and other equally cheering bits of spiritual
consolation, when spirituous ditto would have been preferred.
"I say, Mrs.!" called a voice behind me; and, turning, I saw a rough
Michigander, with an arm blown off at the shoulder, and two or three
bullets still in him--as he afterwards mentioned, as carelessly as if
gentlemen were in the habit of carrying such trifles about with them. I
went to him, and, while administering a dose of soap and water, he
whispered, irefully:
"That red-headed devil, over yonder, is a reb, damn him! You'll agree
to that, I'll bet? He's got shet of a foot, or he'd a cut like the rest
of the lot. Don't you wash him, nor feed him, but jest let him holler
till he's tired. It's a blasted shame to fetch them fellers in here,
along side of us; and so I'll tell the chap that bosses this concern;
cuss me if I don't."
I regret to say that I did not deliver a moral sermon upon the duty of
forgiving our enemies, and the sin of profanity, then and there; but,
being a red-hot Abolitionist, stared fixedly at the tall rebel, who was
a copperhead, in every sense of the word, and privately resolved to put
soap in his eyes, rub his nose the wrong way, and excoriate his cuticle
generally, if I had the washing of him.
My amiable intentions, however, were frustrated; for, when I
approached, with as Christian an expression as my principles would
allow, and asked the question--"Shall I try to make you more
comfortable, sir?" all I got for my pains was a gruff--
"No; I'll do it myself."
"Here's your Southern chivalry, with a witness," thought I, dumping the
basin down before him, thereby quenching a strong desire to give him a
summary baptism, in return for his ungraciousness; for my angry
passions rose, at this rebuff, in a way that would have scandalized
good Dr. Watts. He was a disappointment in all respects, (the rebel,
not the blessed Doctor,) for he was neither fiendish, romantic,
pathetic, or anything interesting; but a long, fat man, with a head
like a burning bush, and a perfectly expressionless face: so I could
hate him without the slightest drawback, and ignored his existence
from that day forth. One redeeming trait he certainly did possess, as
the floor speedily testified; for his ablutions were so vigorously
performed, that his bed soon stood like an isolated island, in a sea of
soap-suds, and he resembled a dripping merman, suffering from the loss
of a fin. If cleanliness is a near neighbor to godliness, then was the
big rebel the godliest man in my ward that day.
Having done up our human wash, and laid it out to dry, the second
syllable of our version of the word war-fare was enacted with much
success. Great trays of bread, meat, soup and coffee appeared; and both
nurses and attendants turned waiters, serving bountiful rations to all
who could eat. I can call my pinafore to testify to my good will in the
work, for in ten minutes it was reduced to a perambulating bill of
fare, presenting samples of all the refreshments going or gone. It was
a lively scene; the long room lined with rows of beds, each filled by
an occupant, whom water, shears, and clean raiment, had transformed
from a dismal ragamuffin into a recumbent hero, with a cropped head. To
and fro rushed matrons, maids, and convalescent "boys," skirmishing
with knives and forks; retreating with empty plates; marching and
counter-marching, with unvaried success, while the clash of busy spoons
made most inspiring music for the charge of our Light Brigade:
"Beds to the front of them,
Beds to the right of them,
Beds to the left of them,
Nobody blundered.
Beamed at by hungry souls,
Screamed at with brimming bowls,
Steamed at by army rolls,
Buttered and sundered.
With coffee not cannon plied,
Each must be satisfied,
Whether they lived or died;
All the men wondered."
Very welcome seemed the generous meal, after a week of suffering,
exposure, and short commons; soon the brown faces began to smile, as
food, warmth, and rest, did their pleasant work; and the grateful
"Thankee's" were followed by more graphic accounts of the battle and
retreat, than any paid reporter could have given us. Curious contrasts
of the tragic and comic met one everywhere; and some touching as well
as ludicrous episodes, might have been recorded that day. A six foot
New Hampshire man, with a leg broken and perforated by a piece of
shell, so large that, had I not seen the wound, I should have regarded
the story as a Munchausenism, beckoned me to come and help him, as he
could not sit up, and both his bed and beard were getting plentifully
anointed with soup. As I fed my big nestling with corresponding
mouthfuls, I asked him how he felt during the battle.
"Well, 'twas my fust, you see, so I aint ashamed to say I was a trifle
flustered in the beginnin', there was such an allfired racket; for ef
there's anything I do spleen agin, it's noise. But when my mate, Eph
Sylvester, caved, with a bullet through his head, I got mad, and
pitched in, licketty cut. Our part of the fight didn't last long; so a
lot of us larked round Fredericksburg, and give some of them houses a
pretty consid'able of a rummage, till we was ordered out of the mess.
Some of our fellows cut like time; but I warn't a-goin' to run for
nobody; and, fust thing I knew, a shell bust, right in front of us, and
I keeled over, feelin' as if I was blowed higher'n a kite. I sung out,
and the boys come back for me, double quick; but the way they chucked
me over them fences was a caution, I tell you. Next day I was most as
black as that darkey yonder, lickin' plates on the sly. This is bully
coffee, ain't it? Give us another pull at it, and I'll be obleeged to
you."
I did; and, as the last gulp subsided, he said, with a rub of his old
handkerchief over eyes as well as mouth:
"Look a here; I've got a pair a earbobs and a handkercher pin I'm a
goin' to give you, if you'll have them; for you're the very moral o'
Lizy Sylvester, poor Eph's wife: that's why I signalled you to come
over here. They aint much, I guess, but they'll do to memorize the rebs
by."
Burrowing under his pillow, he produced a little bundle of what he
called "truck," and gallantly presented me with a pair of earrings,
each representing a cluster of corpulent grapes, and the pin a basket
of astonishing fruit, the whole large and coppery enough for a small
warming-pan. Feeling delicate about depriving him of such valuable
relics, I accepted the earrings alone, and was obliged to depart,
somewhat abruptly, when my friend stuck the warming-pan in the bosom of
his night-gown, viewing it with much complacency, and, perhaps, some
tender memory, in that rough heart of his, for the comrade he had lost.
Observing that the man next him had left his meal untouched, I offered
the same service I had performed for his neighbor, but he shook his
head.
"Thank you, ma'am; I don't think I'll ever eat again, for I'm shot in
the stomach. But I'd like a drink of water, if you aint too busy."
I rushed away, but the water-pails were gone to be refilled, and it was
some time before they reappeared. I did not forget my patient patient,
meanwhile, and, with the first mugful, hurried back to him. He seemed
asleep; but something in the tired white face caused me to listen at
his lips for a breath. None came. I touched his forehead; it was cold:
and then I knew that, while he waited, a better nurse than I had given
him a cooler draught, and healed him with a touch. I laid the sheet
over the quiet sleeper, whom no noise could now disturb; and, half an
hour later, the bed was empty. It seemed a poor requital for all he had
sacrificed and suffered,--that hospital bed, lonely even in a crowd;
for there was no familiar face for him to look his last upon; no
friendly voice to say, Good bye; no hand to lead him gently down into
the Valley of the Shadow; and he vanished, like a drop in that red sea
upon whose shores so many women stand lamenting. For a moment I felt
bitterly indignant at this seeming carelessness of the value of life,
the sanctity of death; then consoled myself with the thought that, when
the great muster roll was called, these nameless men might be promoted
above many whose tall monuments record the barren honors they have won.
All having eaten, drank, and rested, the surgeons began their rounds;
and I took my first lesson in the art of dressing wounds. It wasn't a
festive scene, by any means; for Dr. P., whose Aid I constituted myself,
fell to work with a vigor which soon convinced me that I was a weaker
vessel, though nothing would have induced me to confess it then. He had
served in the Crimea, and seemed to regard a dilapidated body very much
as I should have regarded a damaged garment; and, turning up his cuffs,
whipped out a very unpleasant looking housewife, cutting, sawing,
patching and piecing, with the enthusiasm of an accomplished surgical
seamstress; explaining the process, in scientific terms, to the
patient, meantime; which, of course, was immensely cheering and
comfortable. There was an uncanny sort of fascination in watching him,
as he peered and probed into the mechanism of those wonderful bodies,
whose mysteries he understood so well. The more intricate the wound,
the better he liked it. A poor private, with both legs off, and shot
through the lungs, possessed more attractions for him than a dozen
generals, slightly scratched in some "masterly retreat;" and had any
one appeared in small pieces, requesting to be put together again, he
would have considered it a special dispensation.
The amputations were reserved till the morrow, and the merciful magic
of ether was not thought necessary that day, so the poor souls had to
bear their pains as best they might. It is all very well to talk of the
patience of woman; and far be it from me to pluck that feather from her
cap, for, heaven knows, she isn't allowed to wear many; but the patient
endurance of these men, under trials of the flesh, was truly wonderful;
their fortitude seemed contagious, and scarcely a cry escaped them,
though I often longed to groan for them, when pride kept their white
lips shut, while great drops stood upon their foreheads, and the bed
shook with the irrepressible tremor of their tortured bodies. One or
two Irishmen anathematized the doctors with the frankness of their
nation, and ordered the Virgin to stand by them, as if she had been the
wedded Biddy to whom they could administer the poker, if she didn't;
but, as a general thing, the work went on in silence, broken only by
some quiet request for roller, instruments, or plaster, a sigh from the
patient, or a sympathizing murmur from the nurse.
It was long past noon before these repairs were even partially made;
and, having got the bodies of my boys into something like order, the
next task was to minister to their minds, by writing letters to the
anxious souls at home; answering questions, reading papers, taking
possession of money and valuables; for the eighth commandment was
reduced to a very fragmentary condition, both by the blacks and whites,
who ornamented our hospital with their presence. Pocket books, purses,
miniatures, and watches, were sealed up, labelled, and handed over to
the matron, till such times as the owners thereof were ready to depart
homeward or campward again. The letters dictated to me, and revised by
me, that afternoon, would have made an excellent chapter for some
future history of the war; for, like that which Thackeray's "Ensign
Spooney" wrote his mother just before Waterloo, they were "full of
affection, pluck, and bad spelling;" nearly all giving lively accounts
of the battle, and ending with a somewhat sudden plunge from patriotism
to provender, desiring "Marm," "Mary Ann," or "Aunt Peters," to send
along some pies, pickles, sweet stuff, and apples, "to yourn in haste,"
Joe, Sam, or Ned, as the case might be.
My little Sergeant insisted on trying to scribble something with his
left hand, and patiently accomplished some half dozen lines of
hieroglyphics, which he gave me to fold and direct, with a boyish
blush, that rendered a glimpse of "My Dearest Jane," unnecessary, to
assure me that the heroic lad had been more successful in the service
of Commander-in-Chief Cupid than that of Gen. Mars; and a charming
little romance blossomed instanter in Nurse Periwinkle's romantic
fancy, though no further confidences were made that day, for Sergeant
fell asleep, and, judging from his tranquil face, visited his absent
sweetheart in the pleasant land of dreams.
At five o'clock a great bell rang, and the attendants flew, not to
arms, but to their trays, to bring up supper, when a second uproar
announced that it was ready. The new comers woke at the sound; and I
presently discovered that it took a very bad wound to incapacitate the
defenders of the faith for the consumption of their rations; the amount
that some of them sequestered was amazing; but when I suggested the
probability of a famine hereafter, to the matron, that motherly lady
cried out: "Bless their hearts, why shouldn't they eat? It's their only
amusement; so fill every one, and, if there's not enough ready
to-night, I'll lend my share to the Lord by giving it to the boys."
And, whipping up her coffee-pot and plate of toast, she gladdened the
eyes and stomachs of two or three dissatisfied heroes, by serving them
with a liberal hand; and I haven't the slightest doubt that, having
cast her bread upon the waters, it came back buttered, as another
large-hearted old lady was wont to say.
Then came the doctor's evening visit; the administration of medicines;
washing feverish faces; smoothing tumbled beds; wetting wounds; singing
lullabies; and preparations for the night. By eleven, the last labor of
love was done; the last "good night" spoken; and, if any needed a
reward for that day's work, they surely received it, in the silent
eloquence of those long lines of faces, showing pale and peaceful in
the shaded rooms, as we quitted them, followed by grateful glances that
lighted us to bed, where rest, the sweetest, made our pillows soft,
while Night and Nature took our places, filling that great house of
pain with the healing miracles of Sleep, and his diviner brother, Death.