OFF DUTY.
"My dear girl, we shall have you sick in your bed, unless you keep
yourself warm and quiet for a few days. Widow Wadman can take care of
the ward alone, now the men are so comfortable, and have her vacation
when you are about again. Now do be prudent in time, and don't let me
have to add a Periwinkle to my bouquet of patients."
This advice was delivered, in a paternal manner, by the youngest
surgeon in the hospital, a kind-hearted little gentleman, who seemed to
consider me a frail young blossom, that needed much cherishing, instead
of a tough old spinster, who had been knocking about the world for
thirty years. At the time I write of, he discovered me sitting on the
stairs, with a nice cloud of unwholesome steam rising from the
washroom; a party of January breezes disporting themselves in the
halls; and perfumes, by no means from "Araby the blest," keeping them
company; while I enjoyed a fit of coughing, which caused my head to
spin in a way that made the application of a cool banister both
necessary and agreeable, as I waited for the frolicsome wind to restore
the breath I'd lost; cheering myself, meantime, with a secret
conviction that pneumonia was waiting for me round the corner. This
piece of advice had been offered by several persons for a week, and
refused by me with the obstinacy with which my sex is so richly gifted.
But the last few hours had developed several surprising internal and
external phenomena, which impressed upon me the fact that if I didn't
make a masterly retreat very soon, I should tumble down somewhere, and
have to be borne ignominiously from the field. My head felt like a
cannon ball; my feet had a tendency to cleave to the floor; the walls
at times undulated in a most disagreeable manner; people looked
unnaturally big; and the "very bottles on the mankle shelf" appeared to
dance derisively before my eyes. Taking these things into
consideration, while blinking stupidly at Dr. Z., I resolved to retire
gracefully, if I must; so, with a valedictory to my boys, a private
lecture to Mrs. Wadman, and a fervent wish that I could take off my
body and work in my soul, I mournfully ascended to my apartment, and
Nurse P. was reported off duty.
For the benefit of any ardent damsel whose patriotic fancy may have
surrounded hospital life with a halo of charms, I will briefly describe
the bower to which I retired, in a somewhat ruinous condition. It was
well ventilated, for five panes of glass had suffered compound
fractures, which all the surgeons and nurses had failed to heal; the
two windows were draped with sheets, the church hospital opposite being
a brick and mortar Argus, and the female mind cherishing a prejudice in
favor of retiracy during the night-capped periods of existence. A bare
floor supported two narrow iron beds, spread with thin mattresses like
plasters, furnished with pillows in the last stages of consumption. In
a fire place, guiltless of shovel, tongs, andirons, or grate, burned a
log, inch by inch, being too long to to go on all at once; so, while the
fire blazed away at one end, I did the same at the other, as I tripped
over it a dozen times a day, and flew up to poke it a dozen times at
night. A mirror (let us be elegant!) of the dimensions of a muffin, and
about as reflective, hung over a tin basin, blue pitcher, and a brace
of yellow mugs. Two invalid tables, ditto chairs, wandered here and
there, and the closet contained a varied collection of bonnets,
bottles, bags, boots, bread and butter, boxes and bugs. The closet was
a regular Blue Beard cupboard to me; I always opened it with fear and
trembling, owing to rats, and shut it in anguish of spirit; for time
and space were not to be had, and chaos reigned along with the rats.
Our chimney-piece was decorated with a flat-iron, a Bible, a candle
minus stick, a lavender bottle, a new tin pan, so brilliant that it
served nicely for a pier-glass, and such of the portly black bugs as
preferred a warmer climate than the rubbish hole afforded. Two arks,
commonly called trunks, lurked behind the door, containing the worldly
goods of the twain who laughed and cried, slept and scrambled, in this
refuge; while from the white-washed walls above either bed, looked down
the pictured faces of those whose memory can make for us--
"One little room an everywhere."
For a day or two I managed to appear at meals; for the human grub must
eat till the butterfly is ready to break loose, and no one had time to
come up two flights while it was possible for me to come down. Far be
it from me to add another affliction or reproach to that enduring man,
the steward; for, compared with his predecessor, he was a horn of
plenty; but--I put it to any candid mind--is not the following bill of
fare susceptible of improvement, without plunging the nation madly into
debt? The three meals were "pretty much of a muchness," and consisted
of beef, evidently put down for the men of '76; pork, just in from the
street; army bread, composed of saw-dust and saleratus; butter, salt as
if churned by Lot's wife; stewed blackberries, so much like preserved
cockroaches, that only those devoid of imagination could partake
thereof with relish; coffee, mild and muddy; tea, three dried
huckleberry leaves to a quart of water--flavored with lime--also
animated and unconscious of any approach to clearness. Variety being
the spice of life, a small pinch of the article would have been
appreciated by the hungry, hard-working sisterhood, one of whom, though
accustomed to plain fare, soon found herself reduced to bread and
water; having an inborn repugnance to the fat of the land, and the salt
of the earth.
Another peculiarity of these hospital meals was the rapidity with which
the edibles vanished, and the impossibility of getting a drop or crumb
after the usual time. At the first ring of the bell, a general stampede
took place; some twenty hungry souls rushed to the dining-room, swept
over the table like a swarm of locusts, and left no fragment for any
tardy creature who arrived fifteen minutes late. Thinking it of more
importance that the patients should be well and comfortably fed, I took
my time about my own meals for the first day or two after I came, but
was speedily enlightened by Isaac, the black waiter, who bore with me a
few times, and then informed me, looking as stern as fate:
"I say, mam, ef you comes so late you can't have no vittles,--'cause
I'm 'bleeged fer ter git things ready fer de doctors 'mazin' spry arter
you nusses and folks is done. De gen'lemen don't kere fer ter wait, no
more does I; so you jes' please ter come at de time, and dere won't be
no frettin' nowheres."
It was a new sensation to stand looking at a full table, painfully
conscious of one of the vacuums which Nature abhors, and receive orders
to right about face, without partaking of the nourishment which your
inner woman clamorously demanded. The doctors always fared better than
we; and for a moment a desperate impulse prompted me to give them a
hint, by walking off with the mutton, or confiscating the pie. But
Ike's eye was on me, and, to my shame be it spoken, I walked meekly
away; went dinnerless that day, and that evening went to market, laying
in a small stock of crackers, cheese and apples, that my boys might not
be neglected, nor myself obliged to bolt solid and liquid dyspepsias,
or starve. This plan would have succeeded admirably had not the evil
star under which I was born, been in the ascendant during that month,
and cast its malign influences even into my "'umble" larder; for the
rats had their dessert off my cheese, the bugs set up housekeeping in
my cracker-bag, and the apples like all worldly riches, took to
themselves wings and flew away; whither no man could tell, though
certain black imps might have thrown light upon the matter, had not the
plaintiff in the case been loth to add another to the many trials of
long-suffering Africa. After this failure I resigned myself to fate,
and, remembering that bread was called the staff of life, leaned pretty
exclusively upon it; but it proved a broken reed, and I came to the
ground after a few weeks of prison fare, varied by an occasional potato
or surreptitious sip of milk.
Very soon after leaving the care of my ward, I discovered that I had no
appetite, and cut the bread and butter interests almost entirely,
trying the exercise and sun cure instead. Flattering myself that I had
plenty of time, and could see all that was to be seen, so far as a lone
lorn female could venture in a city, one-half of whose male population
seemed to be taking the other half to the guard-house,--every morning I
took a brisk run in one direction or another; for the January days were
as mild as Spring. A rollicking north wind and occasional snow storm
would have been more to my taste, for the one would have braced and
refreshed tired body and soul, the other have purified the air, and
spread a clean coverlid over the bed, wherein the capital of these
United States appeared to be dozing pretty soundly just then.
One of these trips was to the Armory Hospital, the neatness, comfort,
and convenience of which makes it an honor to its presiding genius, and
arouses all the covetous propensities of such nurses as came from other
hospitals to visit it.
The long, clean, warm, and airy wards, built barrack-fashion, with the
nurse's room at the end, were fully appreciated by Nurse Periwinkle,
whose ward and private bower were cold, dirty, inconvenient, up stairs
and down stairs, and in every-body's chamber. At the Armory, in ward K,
I found a cheery, bright-eyed, white-aproned little lady, reading at
her post near the stove; matting under her feet; a draft of fresh air
flowing in above her head; a table full of trays, glasses, and such
matters, on one side, a large, well-stocked medicine chest on the
other; and all her duty seemed to be going about now and then to give
doses, issue orders, which well-trained attendants executed, and pet,
advise, or comfort Tom, Dick, or Harry, as she found best. As I watched
the proceedings, I recalled my own tribulations, and contrasted the two
hospitals in a way that would have caused my summary dismissal, could
it have been reported at headquarters. Here, order, method, common
sense and liberality reigned and ruled, in a style that did one's heart
good to see; at the Hurly-burly Hotel, disorder, discomfort, bad
management, and no visible head, reduced things to a condition which I
despair of describing. The circumlocution fashion prevailed, forms and
fusses tormented our souls, and unnecessary strictness in one place was
counterbalanced by unpardonable laxity in another. Here is a sample: I
am dressing Sam Dammer's shoulder; and, having cleansed the wound, look
about for some strips of adhesive plaster to hold on the little square
of wet linen which is to cover the gunshot wound; the case is not in
the tray; Frank, the sleepy, half-sick attendant, knows nothing of it;
we rummage high and low; Sam is tired, and fumes; Frank dawdles and
yawns; the men advise and laugh at the flurry; I feel like a boiling
tea-kettle, with the lid ready to fly off and damage somebody.
"Go and borrow some from the next ward, and spend the rest of the day
in finding ours," I finally command. A pause; then Frank scuffles back
with the message: "Miss Peppercorn ain't got none, and says you ain't
no business to lose your own duds and go borrowin' other folkses." I
say nothing, for fear of saying too much, but fly to the surgery. Mr.
Toddypestle informs me that I can't have anything without an order from
the surgeon of my ward. Great heavens! where is he? and away I rush, up
and down, here and there, till at last I find him, in a state of bliss
over a complicated amputation, in the fourth story. I make my demand;
he answers: "In five minutes," and works away, with his head upside
down, as he ties an artery, saws a bone, or does a little needle-work,
with a visible relish and very sanguinary pair of hands. The five
minutes grow to fifteen, and Frank appears, with the remark that,
"Dammer wants to know what in thunder you are keeping him there with
his finger on a wet rag for?" Dr. P. tears himself away long enough to
scribble the order, with which I plunge downward to the surgery again,
find the door locked, and, while hammering away on it, am told that two
friends are waiting to see me in the hall. The matron being away, her
parlor is locked, and there is no where to see my guests but in my own
room, and no time to enjoy them till the plaster is found. I settle
this matter, and circulate through the house to find Toddypestle, who
has no right to leave the surgery till night. He is discovered in the
dead house, smoking a cigar, and very much the worse for his researches
among the spirituous preparations that fill the surgery shelves. He is
inclined to be gallant, and puts the finishing blow to the fire of my
wrath; for the tea-kettle lid flies off, and driving him before me to
his post, I fling down the order, take what I choose; and, leaving the
absurd incapable kissing his hand to me, depart, feeling as Grandma
Riglesty is reported to have done, when she vainly sought for chips, in
Bimleck Jackwood's "shifless paster."
I find Dammer a well acted charade of his own name, and, just as I get
him done, struggling the while with a burning desire to clap an
adhesive strip across his mouth, full of heaven-defying oaths, Frank
takes up his boot to put it on, and exclaims:
"I'm blest ef here ain't that case now! I recollect seeing it pitch in
this mornin', but forgot all about it, till my heel went smash inter
it. Here, ma'am, ketch hold on it, and give the boys a sheet on't all
round, 'gainst it tumbles inter t'other boot next time yer want it."
If a look could annihilate, Francis Saucebox would have ceased to
exist; but it couldn't; therefore, he yet lives, to aggravate some
unhappy woman's soul, and wax fat in some equally congenial situation.
Now, while I'm freeing my mind, I should like to enter my protest
against employing convalescents as attendants, instead of strong,
properly trained, and cheerful men. How it may be in other places I
cannot say; but here it was a source of constant trouble and confusion,
these feeble, ignorant men trying to sweep, scrub, lift, and wait upon
their sicker comrades. One, with a diseased heart, was expected to run
up and down stairs, carry heavy trays, and move helpless men; he tried
it, and grew rapidly worse than when he first came: and, when he was
ordered out to march away to the convalescent hospital, fell, in a sort
of fit, before he turned the corner, and was brought back to die.
Another, hurt by a fall from his horse, endeavored to do his duty, but
failed entirely, and the wrath of the ward master fell upon the nurse,
who must either scrub the rooms herself, or take the lecture; for the
boy looked stout and well, and the master never happened to see him
turn white with pain, or hear him groan in his sleep when an
involuntary motion strained his poor back. Constant complaints were
being made of incompetent attendants, and some dozen women did double
duty, and then were blamed for breaking down. If any hospital director
fancies this a good and economical arrangement, allow one used up nurse
to tell him it isn't, and beg him to spare the sisterhood, who
sometimes, in their sympathy, forget that they are mortal, and run the
risk of being made immortal, sooner than is agreeable to their partial
friends.
Another of my few rambles took me to the Senate Chamber, hoping to hear
and see if this large machine was run any better than some small ones I
knew of. I was too late, and found the Speaker's chair occupied by a
colored gentleman of ten; while two others were "on their legs," having
a hot debate on the cornball question, as they gathered the waste paper
strewn about the floor into bags; and several white members played
leap-frog over the desks, a much wholesomer relaxation than some of the
older Senators indulge in, I fancy. Finding the coast clear, I likewise
gambolled up and down, from gallery to gallery; sat in Sumner's chair,
and cudgelled an imaginary Brooks within an inch of his life; examined
Wilson's books in the coolest possible manner; warmed my feet at one of
the national registers; read people's names on scattered envelopes, and
pocketed a castaway autograph or two; watched the somewhat
unparliamentary proceedings going on about me, and wondered who in the
world all the sedate gentlemen were, who kept popping out of odd doors
here and there, like respectable Jacks-in-the-box. Then I wandered over
the "palatial residence" of Mrs. Columbia, and examined its many
beauties, though I can't say I thought her a tidy housekeeper, and
didn't admire her taste in pictures, for the eye of this humble
individual soon wearied of expiring patriots, who all appeared to be
quitting their earthly tabernacles in convulsions, ruffled shirts, and
a whirl of torn banners, bomb shells, and buff and blue arms and legs.
The statuary also was massive and concrete, but rather wearying to
examine; for the colossal ladies and gentlemen, carried no cards of
introduction in face or figure; so, whether the meditative party in a
kilt, with well-developed legs, shoes like army slippers, and a
ponderous nose, was Columbus, Cato, or Cockelorum Tibby, the tragedian,
was more than I could tell. Several robust ladies attracted me; as I
felt particularly "wimbly" myself, as the old country women say: but
which was America and which Pocahontas was a mystery, for all affected
much looseness of costume, dishevelment of hair, swords, arrows,
lances, scales, and other ornaments quite passé with damsels of our
day, whose effigies should go down to posterity armed with fans,
crochet needles, riding whips, and parasols, with here and there one
holding pen or pencil, rolling-pin or broom. The statue of Liberty I
recognized at once, for it had no pedestal as yet, but stood flat in
the mud, with Young America most symbolically making dirt pies, and
chip forts, in its shadow. But high above the squabbling little throng
and their petty plans, the sun shone full on Liberty's broad forehead,
and, in her hand, some summer bird had built its nest. I accepted the
good omen then, and, on the first of January, the Emancipation Act gave
the statue a nobler and more enduring pedestal than any marble or
granite ever carved and quarried by human hands.
One trip to Georgetown Heights, where cedars sighed overhead, dead
leaves rustled underfoot, pleasant paths led up and down, and a brook
wound like a silver snake by the blackened ruins of some French
Minister's house, through the poor gardens of the black washerwomen who
congregated there, and, passing the cemetery with a murmurous lullaby,
rolled away to pay its little tribute to the river. This breezy run was
the last I took; for, on the morrow, came rain and wind: and
confinement soon proved a powerful reinforcement to the enemy, who was
quietly preparing to spring a mine, and blow me five hundred miles from
the position I had taken in what I called my Chickahominy Swamp.
Shut up in my room, with no voice, spirits, or books, that week was not
a holiday, by any means. Finding meals a humbug, I stopped away
altogether, trusting that if this sparrow was of any worth, the Lord
would not let it fall to the ground. Like a flock of friendly ravens,
my sister nurses fed me, not only with food for the body, but kind
words for the mind; and soon, from being half starved, I found myself
so beteaed and betoasted, petted and served, that I was quite "in the
lap of luxury," in spite of cough, headache, a painful consciousness of
my pleura, and a realizing sense of bones in the human frame. From the
pleasant house on the hill, the home in the heart of Washington, and
the Willard caravansary, came friends new and old, with bottles,
baskets, carriages and invitations for the invalid; and daily our
Florence Nightingale climbed the steep stairs, stealing a moment from
her busy life, to watch over the stranger, of whom she was as
thoughtfully tender as any mother. Long may she wave! Whatever others
may think or say, Nurse Periwinkle is forever grateful; and among her
relics of that Washington defeat, none is more valued than the little
book which appeared on her pillow, one dreary day; for the D. D. written
in it means to her far more than Doctor of Divinity.
Being forbidden to meddle with fleshly arms and legs, I solaced myself
by mending cotton ones, and, as I sat sewing at my window, watched the
moving panorama that passed below; amusing myself with taking notes of
the most striking figures in it. Long trains of army wagons kept up a
perpetual rumble from morning till night; ambulances rattled to and fro
with busy surgeons, nurses taking an airing, or convalescents going in
parties to be fitted to artificial limbs. Strings of sorry looking
horses passed, saying as plainly as dumb creatures could, "Why, in a
city full of them, is there no _horse_pital for us?" Often a cart came
by, with several rough coffins in it and no mourners following;
barouches, with invalid officers, rolled round the corner, and carriage
loads of pretty children, with black coachmen, footmen, and maids. The
women who took their walks abroad, were so extinguished in three story
bonnets, with overhanging balconies of flowers, that their charms were
obscured; and all I can say of them is, that they dressed in the worst
possible taste, and walked like ducks.
The men did the picturesque, and did it so well that Washington looked
like a mammoth masquerade. Spanish hats, scarlet lined riding cloaks,
swords and sashes, high boots and bright spurs, beards and mustaches,
which made plain faces comely, and comely faces heroic; these vanities
of the flesh transformed our butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers
into gallant riders of gaily caparisoned horses, much handsomer than
themselves; and dozens of such figures were constantly prancing by,
with private prickings of spurs, for the benefit of the perambulating
flower-bed. Some of these gentlemen affected painfully tight uniforms,
and little caps, kept on by some new law of gravitation, as they
covered only the bridge of the nose, yet never fell off; the men looked
like stuffed fowls, and rode as if the safety of the nation depended on
their speed alone. The fattest, greyest officers dressed most, and
ambled statelily along, with orderlies behind, trying to look as if
they didn't know the stout party in front, and doing much caracoling on
their own account.
The mules were my especial delight; and an hour's study of a constant
succession of them introduced me to many of their characteristics; for
six of these odd little beasts drew each army wagon, and went hopping
like frogs through the stream of mud that gently rolled along the
street. The coquettish mule had small feet, a nicely trimmed tassel of
a tail, perked up ears, and seemed much given to little tosses of the
head, affected skips and prances; and, if he wore the bells, or were
bedizzened with a bit of finery, put on as many airs as any belle. The
moral mule was a stout, hard-working creature, always tugging with all
his might; often pulling away after the rest had stopped, laboring
under the conscientious delusion that food for the entire army depended
upon his private exertions. I respected this style of mule; and, had I
possessed a juicy cabbage, would have pressed it upon him, with thanks
for his excellent example. The historical mule was a melo-dramatic
quadruped, prone to startling humanity by erratic leaps, and wild
plunges, much shaking of his stubborn head, and lashing out of his
vicious heels; now and then falling flat, and apparently dying a la
Forrest: a gasp--a squirm--a flop, and so on, till the street was well
blocked up, the drivers all swearing like demons in bad hats, and the
chief actor's circulation decidedly quickened by every variety of kick,
cuff, jerk, and haul. When the last breath seemed to have left his body,
and "Doctors were in vain," a sudden resurrection took place; and if
ever a mule laughed with scornful triumph, that was the beast, as he
leisurely rose, gave a comfortable shake; and, calmly regarding the
excited crowd seemed to say--"A hit! a decided hit! for the stupidest
of animals has bamboozled a dozen men. Now, then! what are _you_
stopping the way for?" The pathetic mule was, perhaps, the most
interesting of all; for, though he always seemed to be the smallest,
thinnest, weakest of the six, the postillion, with big boots,
long-tailed coat, and heavy whip, was sure to bestride this one, who
struggled feebly along, head down, coat muddy and rough, eye spiritless
and sad, his very tail a mortified stump, and the whole beast a picture
of meek misery, fit to touch a heart of stone. The jovial mule was a
roly poly, happy-go-lucky little piece of horse-flesh, taking everything
easily, from cudgeling to caressing; strolling along with a roguish
twinkle of the eye, and, if the thing were possible, would have had his
hands in his pockets, and whistled as he went. If there ever chanced to
be an apple core, a stray turnip, or wisp of hay, in the gutter, this
Mark Tapley was sure to find it, and none of his mates seemed to
begrudge him his bite. I suspected this fellow was the peacemaker,
confidant and friend of all the others, for he had a sort of
"Cheer-up,-old-boy,-I'll-pull-you-through" look, which was exceedingly
engaging.
Pigs also possessed attractions for me, never having had an opportunity
of observing their graces of mind and manner, till I came to
Washington, whose porcine citizens appeared to enjoy a larger liberty
than many of its human ones. Stout, sedate looking pigs, hurried by
each morning to their places of business, with a preoccupied air, and
sonorous greeting to their friends. Genteel pigs, with an extra curl to
their tails, promenaded in pairs, lunching here and there, like
gentlemen of leisure. Rowdy pigs pushed the passers by off the side
walk; tipsy pigs hiccoughed their version of "We wont go home till
morning," from the gutter; and delicate young pigs tripped daintily
through the mud, as if, like "Mrs. Peerybingle," they plumed themselves
upon their ankles, and kept themselves particularly neat in point of
stockings. Maternal pigs, with their interesting families, strolled by
in the sun; and often the pink, baby-like squealers lay down for a nap,
with a trust in Providence worthy of human imitation.
But more interesting than officers, ladies, mules, or pigs, were my
colored brothers and sisters, because so unlike the respectable members
of society I'd known in moral Boston.
Here was the genuine article--no, not the genuine article at all, we
must go to Africa for that--but the sort of creatures generations of
slavery have made them: obsequious, trickish, lazy and ignorant, yet
kind-hearted, merry-tempered, quick to feel and accept the least token
of the brotherly love which is slowly teaching the white hand to grasp
the black, in this great struggle for the liberty of both the races.
Having been warned not to be too rampant on the subject of slavery, as
secesh principles flourished even under the respectable nose of Father
Abraham, I had endeavored to walk discreetly, and curb my unruly
member; looking about me with all my eyes, the while, and saving up the
result of my observations for future use. I had not been there a week,
before the neglected, devil-may care expression in many of the faces
about me, seemed an urgent appeal to leave nursing white bodies, and
take some care for these black souls. Much as the lazy boys and saucy
girls tormented me, I liked them, and found that any show of interest
or friendliness brought out the better traits which live in the most
degraded and forsaken of us all. I liked their cheerfulness, for the
dreariest old hag, who scrubbed all day in that pestilential steam,
gossipped and grinned all the way out, when night set her free from
drudgery. The girls romped with their dusky sweethearts, or tossed
their babies, with the tender pride that makes mother-love a beautifier
to the homeliest face. The men and boys sang and whistled all day long;
and often, as I held my watch, the silence of the night was sweetly
broken by some chorus from the street, full of real melody, whether the
song was of heaven, or of hoe-cakes; and, as I listened, I felt that we
never should doubt nor despair concerning a race which, through such
griefs and wrongs, still clings to this good gift, and seems to solace
with it the patient hearts that wait and watch and hope until the end.
I expected to have to defend myself from accusations of prejudice
against color; but was surprised to find things just the other way, and
daily shocked some neighbor by treating the blacks as I did the whites.
The men _would_ swear at the "darkies," would put two _gs_ into negro,
and scoff at the idea of any good coming from such trash. The nurses
were willing to be served by the colored people, but seldom thanked
them, never praised, and scarcely recognized them in the street; whereat
the blood of two generations of abolitionists waxed hot in my veins,
and, at the first opportunity, proclaimed itself, and asserted the right
of free speech as doggedly as the irrepressible Folsom herself.
Happening to catch up a funny little black baby, who was toddling about
the nurses' kitchen, one day, when I went down to make a mess for some
of my men, a Virginia woman standing by elevated her most prominent
features, with a sniff of disapprobation, exclaiming:
"Gracious, Miss P.! how can you? I've been here six months. and never
so much as touched the little toad with a poker."
"More shame for you, ma'am," responded Miss P.; and, with the natural
perversity of a Yankee, followed up the blow by kissing "the toad,"
with ardor. His face was providentially as clean and shiny as if his
mamma had just polished it up with a corner of her apron and a drop
from the tea-kettle spout, like old Aunt Chloe. This rash act, and the
anti-slavery lecture that followed, while one hand stirred gruel for
sick America, and the other hugged baby Africa, did not produce the
cheering result which I fondly expected; for my comrade henceforth
regarded me as a dangerous fanatic, and my protegé nearly came to his
death by insisting on swarming up stairs to my room, on all occasions,
and being walked on like a little black spider.
I waited for New Year's day with more eagerness than I had ever known
before; and, though it brought me no gift, I felt rich in the act of
justice so tardily performed toward some of those about me. As the
bells rung midnight, I electrified my room-mate by dancing out of bed,
throwing up the window, and flapping my handkerchief, with a feeble
cheer, in answer to the shout of a group of colored men in the street
below. All night they tooted and tramped, fired crackers, sung "Glory,
Hallelujah," and took comfort, poor souls! in their own way. The sky
was clear, the moon shone benignly, a mild wind blew across the river,
and all good omens seemed to usher in the dawn of the day whose
noontide cannot now be long in coming. If the colored people had taken
hands and danced around the White House, with a few cheers for the much
abused gentleman who has immortalized himself by one just act, no
President could have had a finer levee, or one to be prouder of.
While these sights and sounds were going on without, curious scenes
were passing within, and I was learning that one of the best methods of
fitting oneself to be a nurse in a hospital, is to be a patient there;
for then only can one wholly realize what the men suffer and sigh for;
how acts of kindness touch and win; how much or little we are to those
about us; and for the first time really see that in coming there we
have taken our lives in our hands, and may have to pay dearly for a
brief experience. Every one was very kind; the attendants of my ward
often came up to report progress, to fill my wood-box, or bring
messages and presents from my boys. The nurses took many steps with
those tired feet of theirs, and several came each evening, to chat over
my fire and make things cosy for the night. The doctors paid daily
visits, tapped at my lungs to see if pneumonia was within, left doses
without names, and went away, leaving me as ignorant, and much more
uncomfortable than when they came. Hours began to get confused; people
looked odd; queer faces haunted the room, and the nights were one long
fight with weariness and pain. Letters from home grew anxious; the
doctors lifted their eyebrows, and nodded ominously; friends said
"Don't stay," and an internal rebellion seconded the advice; but the
three months were not out, and the idea of giving up so soon was
proclaiming a defeat before I was fairly routed; so to all "Don't
stays" I opposed "I wills," till, one fine morning, a gray-headed
gentleman rose like a welcome ghost on my hearth; and, at the sight of
him, my resolution melted away, my heart turned traitor to my boys,
and, when he said, "Come home," I answered, "Yes, father;" and so ended
my career as an army nurse.
I never shall regret the going, though a sharp tussle with typhoid, ten
dollars, and a wig, are all the visible results of the experiment; for
one may live and learn much in a month. A good fit of illness proves
the value of health; real danger tries one's mettle; and self-sacrifice
sweetens character. Let no one who sincerely desires to help the work
on in this way, delay going through any fear; for the worth of life
lies in the experiences that fill it, and this is one which cannot be
forgotten. All that is best and bravest in the hearts of men and women,
comes out in scenes like these; and, though a hospital is a rough
school, its lessons are both stern and salutary; and the humblest of
pupils there, in proportion to his faithfulness, learns a deeper faith
in God and in himself. I, for one, would return tomorrow, on the
"up-again,-and-take-another" principle, if I could; for the amount of
pleasure and profit I got out of that month compensates for all after
pangs; and, though a sadly womanish feeling, I take some satisfaction
in the thought that, if I could not lay my head on the altar of my
country, I have my hair; and that is more than handsome Helen did for
her dead husband, when she sacrificed only the ends of her ringlets on
his urn. Therefore, I close this little chapter of hospital
experiences, with the regret that they were no better worth recording;
and add the poetical gem with which I console myself for the untimely
demise of "Nurse Periwinkle:"
Oh, lay her in a little pit,
With a marble stone to cover it;
And carve thereon a gruel spoon,
To show a "nuss" has died too soon.