[Illustration: 1831 1911
Adelaide W Smith]
[Illustration:
REMINISCENCES
OF
AN ARMY NURSE
DURING
THE CIVIL WAR
ADELAIDE·W·SMITH
INDEPENDENT
VOLUNTEER]
GREAVES PUBLISHING COMPANY
NEW YORK
MCMXI
Dedication
To the
Boys in Blue
1861-1865;
and to those brave women who, with smiling faces and breaking hearts,
sent them forth to save their country and their homes, while they
themselves toiled in fields and elsewhere, waiting to welcome home
too many who never returned; and to that band of heroic devoted
women, many of whom left luxurious homes for the discomforts and
privations of hospital life, and died, self-sacrificing patriots of
the war, this true story is affectionately dedicated.
A. W. S.
COPYRIGHT 1911
BY
ADELAIDE W. SMITH
YORK PRINTING COMPANY
YORK, PA.
Contents
CHAP. PAGE
Foreword 9
I. A View of the Situation 11
II. Long Island College Hospital, Brooklyn 21
III. Bedloe’s Island, Now Liberty 33
IV. The Great Manhattan Fair of the
United States Sanitary Commission 44
V. New England Rooms 53
VI. Arms and Trophy Department of the
Sanitary Commission Fair 59
VII. Unique Case of William Mudge 71
VIII. The Start for the Front 78
IX. Some Patients 84
X. Experiences at Point of Rocks 90
XI. Depot Field Hospital and State
Agencies at City Point, Virginia 96
XII. City Point, Virginia,--A Day in The Army 116
XIII. Dorothea Dix 125
XIV. An Unexpected Ride 131
XV. Two Fiancées 139
XVI. The Story of My Pass 144
XVII. Thanksgiving, 1864, Under Fire at
Dutch Gap, Virginia 148
XVIII. Domestic Life in Camp and Other
Incidents 160
XIX. Love in Camp 167
XX. New York State Agency 185
XXI. A House Moving 191
XXII. The Last Parade of Confederate Prisoners 197
XXIII. Our First Sight of Petersburg 200
XXIV. Preparing for a Visit to Richmond, the
Capital of the Lost Confederacy 209
XXV. Recollections of Lincoln 216
XXVI. Recent Letter from Dr. Mary Blackmar
Bruson 229
XXVII. Last of City Point 234
XXVIII. Washington and New York State Agency 240
XXIX. Old Capitol Prison, Washington, D. C. 247
XXX. The Last Act in My Drama at Washington 253
XXXI. Transportation Home 260
Foreword
This story, devoid of literary pretensions, is a simple narration
of day by day experiences, as they came to me, during five years of
volunteer work in hospitals of the Civil War.
At the risk of some slight repetition, it has been thought best to
include “Recollections of Lincoln” and “Love in Camp” practically as
they were when published separately.
I wish to express my high appreciation and thanks for the confidence
and encouragement of those friends who thought the book should be
written that the younger generations may know something of the work
done by women during the war.
To the Rev. W. M. Brundage, of Brooklyn, I am especially indebted for
practical suggestions that have made the publication possible.
With some limitations, during two summers, I betook myself to the
unique Seventh-day-Baptist University town of Alfred, New York, where
the story was written on the picturesque campus, in a pure atmosphere
free from all disturbing elements.
It has been a labor of love and pleasure to review the old scenes,
replete though they were with suffering and death, for the thought of
the comfort we were able to give to the “Boys” and the remembrance of
their gratitude remain. In no other benevolent work of my life was
the reward so immediate and so inspiring as in this ministration. I
have given real names and literal words as nearly as possible, except
in cases where there was something unpleasant to relate; and I may
truly add that, even to be young again, I would not have missed those
years of incessant care and anxiety, given in the hope of saving
brave soldiers for their country and their homes.
A. W. S.
CHAPTER I
A VIEW OF THE SITUATION
“Heartstrong South would have his way
Headstrong North had said him nay,
They charged, they struck; both fell, both bled;
Brain rose again ungloved;”
* * * * *
SIDNEY LANIER, Centennial Poem.
It is not my intention to write history, but it seems advisable to
mention in a few brief notes or extracts, for the benefit of the
present generation, the sentiments held during the Civil War.
When the first Confederate shot was fired upon the United States
flag, then floating over Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor, many
months of unrest, foreboding, and apprehension of a coming terror
were experienced by the people of the North. This fatal shot caused
the separation of hitherto devoted families; fathers and sons were
arrayed against each other, some in hate, some in sorrow; and even
mothers, wives and sisters shared this unholy animosity. All took
pronounced sides with North or South, except the “copperheads,” whom
all loyal Northerners despised.
General Winfield Scott, the hero of many a hard fought Mexican
battle, though quite superannuated, was still in command of
the United States armies. Imperative, supercilious, an austere
disciplinarian, usually adorned with all the ornamentation of his
rank, with chapeau and white plumes, he was, especially when well
mounted, a conspicuous figure, quite justifying his sobriquet of
“Fuss and Feathers.”
[Illustration: GENERAL WINFIELD SCOTT]
In consequence of the secession of South Carolina, on December 20th,
1860, General Anderson, commander of the forts of the harbor of
Charleston Bay, evacuated Fort Moultrie six days later.
The “Star of the West,” bringing reinforcements, was fired upon by
the Confederates, thus preventing the landing of United States troops.
On April 11th, 1861, General Anderson refused an order to surrender
to General Beauregard, who, during the 12th and 13th, ordered a
furious bombardment from the surrounding forts upon Fort Sumter.
Being unprepared for the attack, General Anderson was compelled to
capitulate and to take refuge, with his garrison, on ships outside
the harbor. On April 14th, 1861, however, he saved the National flag,
which is now carefully preserved in the Museum of the War Department
at Washington, no casualties having occurred.
The fort was held by the Confederates till the evacuation of
Charleston, February 17th, 1865.
On April 14th, 1865, General Anderson had the happiness to raise the
old flag once more, with his own hands, over the demolished fort.
The following extracts from an unpublished letter of John White
Chadwick were selected and kindly given me by Mrs. Chadwick.
SOME EXTRACTS FROM AN ACCOUNT OF A TRIP
TO CHARLESTON AND BACK
ON THE OCCASION OF THE RAISING OF THE FLAG
ON FORT SUMTER AFTER THE CIVIL WAR.
“Land, ho!”
When at last it was permitted us to raise this cry, we were
indeed a happy company. We entered into the experience of
Columbus and Cabot and Balboa. The pilot came on board. He
told us, as the pilots always did, to come to anchor, and
we obeyed him. And lying there on the still water, in the
perfect air, there came another feeling than that of joy.
The atmosphere grew heavy with deep thoughts and wonderful
associations. Our hearts were softened and our eyes were
dashed with sudden tears. In dark and lurid splendor, all
the great events of four long, painful years rose up before
us. And then again we hoisted anchor and steamed slowly up
toward the city in the deepening twilight...................
The war ships, lying there like terrible grim monsters,
manned their rigging as we passed, and cheered us lustily.
But there was something in our throats forbidding us to
answer them with equal heartiness.
Passing under the battered walls of Sumter, we sang with
trembling voices, “Praise God from whom all blessings
flow.” And to the left was Wagner and the ditch where
Colonel Shaw was buried with his dark but trusty men.
It happened so, that God in His great mercy, permitted us
to be bearers of great tidings to the city--news of the
rebellion’s virtual end to this community which saw its mad
beginning. Once shouted from our deck, it flew from wharf
to wharf, from ship to ship, and was received with shouts
of thankful joy. The night shut in over the accursed city
as a band upon the wharf played the dear strain “America.”
It was a time never to be forgotten, pregnant with thoughts
that must remain unspoken. Before I tried to sleep I
stepped ashore, and, just for a moment, standing there
under the silent stars, thanked God that He had punished
awful sin with awful retribution............
On Friday, just after ten o’clock, we started for the
fort in the steamer “Golden Gate,” which the Government
officials kindly placed at our disposal. About the fort
the scene was at once beautiful and exciting. There were
thirty ships and steamers in its immediate vicinity, and
they blossomed all over with flags. And the little boats
belonging to the war ships were shooting here and there and
everywhere, obedient to the lusty strokes of their stout
oarsmen, dressed for the occasion in their very best.
We were on shore by half past twelve o’clock, and wandering
at will about the tattered mound that had once been Fort
Sumter. Indeed they had made “Ossa like a wart.” It had
no form or comeliness. It was a perfect heap..........
Anon came General Anderson and Mr. Beecher and the rest.
The General’s speech was, for so great an hour, the very
smallest possible affair. But when it came to raising the
old flag he did hoist away like a good fellow, and it went
up right handsomely. The people rose up as one man, and
shouted their hurrahs as if they thought to wake the echoes
from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf. And the band played
“The Star Spangled Banner” just as if they meant it,--as
they did of course. And then from ship and fort the cannon
thundered away like mad.......... And when they ceased with
their roar Mr. Beecher took it up and thundered, to good
purpose, for an hour or more..........
Saturday saw William Lloyd Garrison preside over an
assembly of two thousand colored people, if not more, in
Zion Church, and noble words were spoken which these people
did not fail to understand.........
From Charleston wharf to Hampton Roads our voyage was
pleasant, and the weather very fine........... Going into
Hampton Roads, on Tuesday, swiftly and silently over the
still water, we saw a vessel with her colors at half mast.
Not long after a pilot shouted to us across the waves, from
a great distance, that the President was dead. Either we
could not or we would not believe it.
Another vessel sailed along with drooping colors and told
us _how he died_. And then the shadow of his death swept
down and folded from our sight all of those great and rare
experiences which we had been enjoying. It seemed to us
that we should never be able to recollect them from that
shadow. We went ashore at the great fortress, where his
dear feet had been, scarcely a week before, but we had no
eyes to see anything.............
It had been proposed to go to Portsmouth, Norfolk and to
City Point. But we had no heart for it. And so we came
together in the cabin and voted that we would go home.
JOHN WHITE CHADWICK.
The Government called for seventy-five thousand troops on April 15th
to put down the rebellion “in ninety days,” according to Secretary
Seward’s confident announcement.
On April 19th, the Sixth Regiment of the Massachusetts Brigade, first
to respond to the call, was fired upon by a mob while passing through
Baltimore, and a number were wounded and some killed.
The Ellsworth Zouaves were enlisted chiefly through the enthusiastic
patriotism of young Colonel Ellsworth, who, on arriving at Alexandria
with his regiment, saw a Confederate flag flying above a small hotel,
and at once ordered the flag hauled down. This was refused, and the
indignant boy rashly rushed to the roof, and dared to pull it down
himself, when he was shot dead by the rebel owner. Colonel Ellsworth
was killed May 24th, 1861. Lincoln’s grief at the death of this
daring boy was overwhelming. Ellsworth had studied law with him for
a time in his office, and he loved him as a son; and as a son and
early martyr of the war, he was laid in state at the White House for
funeral services.
War with its untold horrors had begun.
Meanwhile it was becoming evident that President Buchanan had
permitted, or had at least become strangely blind to the introduction
of foreign ammunition into Southern ports, while the traitor
Secretary Floyd, still under oath to the Union, held his office
until the last possible moment, encouraging and assisting the South
in building forts and, in many ways, accumulating almost openly
materials of war.
At last the people awoke to the fact that many southern regiments and
garrisons were well equipped for the conflict, while the unsuspecting
North was almost wholly unprepared. People had become so accustomed
to “fire-eaters’ bluster” and their threats and boastings of the
superior prowess of the South that, if they listened at all, it was
considered mere political bombast which passed unheeded until war was
actually begun.
In November, 1861, General McClellan superceded General Scott, who
then retired from active duty, at the age of seventy-five, and died
later at the good old age of eighty.
General McClellan began a slow thorough system of discipline, which
was very trying to the enthusiasm of volunteer recruits, who soon
discovered that to use the pick and shovel were as essential duties
as carrying a musket, and were now compelled to work in swamps and
trenches throwing up earthworks and entrenchments for many long
months.
The impatient public claimed that egotism and ambition prevented
General McClellan from moving “on to Richmond,” thus prolonging
the war, and his army settled down before the enemy “in masterly
inactivity.” During this time many disgruntled soldiers climbed
hills and trees and saw the city of Richmond practically defenseless
“for three days.” Still he did not move. This large army had lived
and worked in earthworks for many weary months, until malaria and
dysentery had sent hundreds of incapacitated soldiers North to be
cared for. They were among the first bitter fruits of the terrible
struggle scarcely yet begun.
[Illustration: GENERAL GEORGE B. McCLELLAN]
Not long after the defeat at Bull Run--Manassas,--both sides claimed
the victory,--did we for a moment believe that Southern courage was
equal to Northern valor in an open conflict, or that the rebellion
could not be put down within a few months; and so we stood aghast
when the attack under General McDowell failed to put down the
rebellion in a single battle.
General Horatio C. King, in his address before the thirty-seventh
reunion of the Army of the Potomac, repeated these potent words of
General Grant:
“As I recall the interview General Grant spoke in substance as
follows: ‘I cannot imagine why any one should conceive for a moment
that I would not be glad to work in any capacity with General
McClellan. I have known him but little personally since we served
together in Mexico, but I have always admired him both as a man
and as a soldier, and I am probably under greater obligations to
General McClellan than to any one man now living. General McClellan
was called to a great command, unfortunately for him too early in
the history of the war, when many difficult military and political
questions remained unsettled. He and his acts were the subject of
wide discussion and unjust criticism, but General McClellan was the
man who created the great instrumentality with which I had the honor
of closing out the rebellion. General McClellan organized, trained,
disciplined, led, and inspired the Army of the Potomac. General
McClellan made that army the finest fighting machine of our day, if
not of any time. It was his good work in creating that army which
enabled me in my turn to accomplish the things for which I received
the glory, and for all of which I am grateful to General McClellan.’”