BEDLOE’S ISLAND (NOW LIBERTY)
A number of influential ladies of New York City had formed a
society named “Park Barracks Association.” By permission of the
Mayor, barracks were put up in the City Hall Park for temporary
accommodation of soldiers. But of that particular work I knew very
little. These ladies had, however, extended their benevolence to
Bedloe’s Island. They had, somehow, heard of my work, and a committee
waited upon me with an invitation to accompany them, by the Thomas P.
Way, on its regular trip to the department hospitals on the river,
including Bedloe’s Island, three and a half miles down New York
Bay, where they wished me to take charge of their “diet kitchen.”
Fort Wood still stands on one side of the island, little changed
since 1862. At that time twenty wards were filled with about eighty
patients.
The first floor of the square brick building on the New York side was
used as a dispensary, and the diet kitchen was also located here.
On the second floor were the quarters of sick officers, occupied
at that time by only one officer who had been wounded at Antietam.
Comfortable rooms on the third floor became my apartments.
[Illustration: SURGEON CAMPBELL]
Each lady had a different opinion concerning the management of
the kitchen, and urged the wisdom of her particular plan. I soon
discovered, however, that Surgeon Campbell, in charge of the
hospital, had been so annoyed by the irregular work of these ladies,
that he had threatened to close the kitchen. Small wonder, when a
different lady came each week and spent most of her time in undoing
the work of her predecessor! They were extremely anxious to have me
take charge at once, but I asked for twenty-four hours in which to
consider, though my mind was already made up. This being a volunteer
work, I wrote the next day, saying that I would take charge of the
kitchen on one condition--namely, that I should have no interference
or direction from any member of the Association. This they thought
rather severe, but it was my ultimatum. They were glad to accept my
terms, however, in order that they might continue their benevolent
work on the island.
The day after I took charge, Surgeon Campbell came into the kitchen
for inspection and stood aghast at the “confusion worse confounded.”
I was standing on a chair in a closet, throwing in heaps on the
floor endless packages from the shelves. I laughed at his despairing
expression, and said, “Doctor, do not expect any order within three
days, till these incongruous piles are classified.” There were shoes
and cornstarch, “trigger” finger gloves and dried apples, shirts and
beans, “feetings” and comfort bags, and so on ad infinitum.
The clothing supplies I now separated from the food donations, and
had them sent up to my rooms, where, later, the men came with their
demands, or with written orders from the ladies, one or more of whom
came every day. I soon discovered that, owing to a lack of system,
some of the men had succeeded in getting four shirts instead of
one; but I concluded that they were four times colder than their
warmer-hearted comrades.
At last out of confusion came order. With the help of Surgeon
Campbell I planned a printed list, lacking only the addition of the
date, name of surgeon, and number of ward to which were to be added
each day’s orders. I went over this at night, frequently adding
extras, and in the morning it was sent to the different wards when
the ward masters came for breakfast. The doctors then selected the
proper diet for their patients, and the list was returned before ten
o’clock.
Four detailed soldiers acted as cooks and helpers. Andrew, a
practical, kindly Scotchman, became head cook; and altogether we were
much gratified by our good fare. Our success along this line was made
easier by liberal government supplies, and the generous donations of
the Association, which gave me “carte blanche” for special cases.
Our system worked admirably. When the dinner bugle sounded, the ward
masters ran with their trays and pails; the first in order calling
out his ward number as he entered. I read aloud from one of the
twenty lists, which varied slightly each day, and were kept hanging
in a row. For example:
“ORDER FOR SPECIAL DIET
U. S. Convalescent Hospital
Fort Wood
................1863
Ward .............. Dr. ..........
Dinner, Supper, Breakfast, Remarks
Tea................
Cocoa..............
Coffee.............
Etc., etc.
Ward....coffee for 6, tea 5, chicken 7, roast beef 10,
whisky punches 5, egg nogs, etc.”
The cook served meats and vegetables, one served tea, coffee or milk
in pails, while I managed the jellies, stimulants, etc. We soon
reduced the time of distribution for eighty patients to fifteen
minutes.
When Surgeon McDougall, in charge of the department, came with his
staff to inspect our kitchen, they waited till all was served to
the ward masters, and then he said: “Miss Smith, you have the best
conducted kitchen in the Department.” Having had little experience
in cooking, this was a very pleasant surprise. The inspection was
continued by a member of the staff passing his white-gloved hand over
the range and sides of the iron kettles, etc., which the men kept so
clean that they left no trace. The men were also made happy by the
approval of the inspectors.
In addition to this we made large puddings for the twenty wards, ten
each day being all that our ovens could hold.
At the suggestion of Surgeon Campbell, a courteous Scotch gentleman
and strict disciplinarian, I wore a dress of officers’ blue with
infantry buttons, medical cadet shoulder straps with green bands and
gilt braid in the centre.
The Thomas P. Way came daily at 10 A. M. bringing ladies of the
Association and many other visitors. Andrew had learned to make
“perfect cocoa,” which I had served to the guests in my rooms, where,
from the large windows, they enjoyed the fine view of Long Island,
New Jersey and New York shores.
[Illustration: “LIBERTY”]
This was before the days of “Liberty Island,” which later was made
immortal by the gift of the French people and the great sculptor
Bartholdi, whose heroic statue was to have been completed for the
great centennial fair of 1876. Failing to accomplish this in time, he
sent to Philadelphia the arm holding the torch which now lights the
bay, and is a well known signal light to incoming vessels. While in
Philadelphia, attending the exposition, with seven friends I climbed
the narrow ladder in the arm, and all were able to sit in the circle
of the great torch, now upheld by “Liberty.”
DAILY ROUTINE
Each morning I awoke at George’s call--“Ha’f-a-pas-seex.” Andrew
would send up a good breakfast for two, as there was always some lady
friend or one of my younger sisters to keep me company at night.
No other woman except the wives and friends of the officers at the
fort were allowed to remain on the island. The cooks soon learned to
manage the men’s breakfast without me.
At eight o’clock A. M. a dozen or more men came to my door with
orders from the ladies for underwear and many comforts. George, who
did the work of a chambermaid, having cleared up my reception room
(I did my own sleeping room) I then descended into the kitchen and
immersed myself in the work of making jellies and other delicacies,
while I had four disabled soldiers preparing meats, vegetables, etc.
At ten A. M. came the boat, bringing guests for luncheon, when we had
officers, sisters of charity, clergymen, and friends of the patients
to entertain, all of whom needed advice or a pleasant word. This
caused many interruptions; but was a pleasant break in the monotony
of hospital life.
The visitors left on the four P. M. boat. I then inspected the
various wards and discovered many delinquencies on the part of
the men nurses of which the patients were afraid to complain.
Occasionally there was time for a walk around the sea wall, and then
came the men’s supper at five P. M.
At six dinner was served in my reception room for my friends and
myself, and Andrew insisted upon its being a good one. After that
officers and their ladies sometimes called.
When the wind howled and the waves dashed high against the sea wall,
we could see the twinkling lights of the city while we sat talking
and resting till “taps.” Then came George to attend to his wonderful
coal fires in very large open grates, which never burned low or
dropped ashes on the bright polished hearth. His greatest reward was
a pleasant word about the fires and he would smile in happiness. Then
he brought a bucket of salt water fresh from the bay for my nightly
bath, after which we retired to our comfortable cots, where we slept
restfully till awakened by the usual “Ha’f-a-pas-seex.”
I remember an incident in which human perversity strongly asserted
itself. General Wool, then Commander of the Department of the
East, sent an order that “No one be allowed to leave the island
till further orders.” It was suspected that spies were stealing
information from the forts. No one was permitted to go even aboard
the boat which brought daily supplies.
At once we felt ourselves prisoners, and an irresistible desire to
escape to the city haunted me every hour of the day. I was actually
planning to elude the guards and to be rowed in a little boat to the
city,--three and one-half miles from the island,--when the order was
revoked, and I suddenly discovered that I had no urgent object for
making the trip.
The post chaplain drew very few to his services. One patient remarked
“We can sleep much better in our cots than in the chapel.” One Sunday
afternoon, after considerable effort, I succeeded in raising a
quartette among the non-commissioned officers. I then went to all the
wards, urging the men to come to our services, promising them some
good old-time hymns. The chaplain was much surprised and gratified at
this sudden increase in his congregation, and this improvement was
maintained till most of the patients had left the island.
At last orders were read for all convalescents to report to their
regiments. This quite emptied the wards and took my staff of domestic
helpers. I had a busy time supplying the Boys with necessary articles
and luxuries, and “comfort bags” containing sewing material were
in great demand! In some of these were found letters that led to
correspondence and in many cases to romance.
As the “Way” left the wharf, these grateful men expressed their
thanks by rousing cheers to the surgeons and nurses who had taken
such good care of them. Then came three more cheers for the kind
ladies who had given them so many luxuries and comforting words.
Being the only lady present I waved a hearty good-bye for all these
kindly women.
My work there was practically over, as the few patients who were left
could be supplied from the regular mess hall, so I returned to my
home in Brooklyn.
Some days later I crossed Fulton Ferry and, to my surprise, found
Broadway deserted. The draft riot was spreading. From the 13th to
the 16th of July, 1863, the streets were practically given over to a
crowd of hoodlum boys brandishing clubs and sticks, rushing wildly
and howling “Niggers, niggers! Hang the niggers!” They did hang some
to lamp posts. Negro shanties were fired and occupants driven into
the flames. A colored orphan asylum was attacked and burned. One
poor fellow was chased for miles, and at last he jumped into a pool
of water, preferring to drown rather than to be hanged or beaten to
death. This riot, the most disgraceful and cowardly of all horrible
crimes that ever disgraced modern New York City, resulted in the
death of nearly one thousand people, mostly negroes, and was incited
by two copperheads whose names should be abhorred forever.
A handsome boy patient of about seventeen years attached himself to
me, much to my annoyance, and I found it difficult to give him the
attention he desired. At last, however, to my great relief, he was
ordered to report to his regiment, whence he wrote frequently. About
six months later, to my astonishment, he came to my home, saying, “I
was so homesick I just had to come, and I ran away without asking for
a furlough.” Of course he was liable to arrest as a deserter, and it
cost me much persuasion and insistence at military headquarters, to
convince them that the boy was ignorant of the treachery of his act.
But finally, after much advice, he started for his regiment with a
return pass. About a year later he wrote asking my advice as to his
marrying “a very nice girl,” as he thought “an economical wife could
help him to save money,”--on twelve dollars a month, forsooth!