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.

Immediately after their return to Cairo, they left for Savannah and Pittsburg Landing, on the Tennessee River. They took from the latter place two hundred and fifty men, leaving again before the battle of Shiloh. This took place immediately after they left, and they ran up to St. Louis, landed their freight of wounded, and returned immediately for another load.

Two hundred and seventy-five desperately wounded men from the battle of Shiloh, formed this load. They quickly made their way Northward with their freight of misery and suffering. This was beyond the power of the imagination to conceive, and the nurses were too busy in their cares to sleep or eat. The sorrowful labor was at last performed, the wounded were transferred to the hospitals at St. Louis, and Mrs. Colfax returned to her duties there.

After remaining some time in the Fifth Street Hospital, and making occasional trips on the Hospital-boats, Mrs. Colfax was sent to the Hospital at Jefferson Barracks, where she remained a long time, and where her services, so eminently kind, efficient and womanly, met the success they so much deserved.

She remained in the service as a hospital nurse two years and a half. Except while on the hospital boats, and during brief stays at the various hospitals of the South-west, while attached to the Transport Service, she spent the entire time at Fifth Street Hospital, St. Louis, and at Jefferson Barracks. In each and every place her services were alike meritorious, and though she encountered many annoyances, and unpleasant incidents, she does not now regret the time and labor she bestowed in doing her share of the woman's work of the war.

Like all earnest, unselfish workers, in this eminently unselfish service, Mrs. Colfax delights to bear testimony to the efficient labors of others.

All who worked with her were her friends, and she has the fullest appreciation of their best qualities, and their earnest efforts. Among those she names thus feelingly, are Mrs. Plummer, the matron of the Fifth Street Hospital, St. Louis, Miss Addie E. Johnson, Mrs. Gibson, and others, her fellow-workers there.

Early in 1864, quite worn out with her protracted labors, Mrs. Colfax returned to her home in Michigan City, where she still resides, honored, beloved and respected, as her character and services demand.



MISS CLARA DAVIS.

This lady, now the wife of the Rev. Edward Abbott, of Cambridgeport, Massachusetts, was one of the earliest, most indefatigable and useful of the laborers for Union soldiers during the war. Her labors commenced early in the winter of 1861-62, in the hospitals of Philadelphia, in which city she was then residing.

Her visits were at first confined to the Broad and Cherry Street Hospital, and her purpose at first was to minister entirely to the religious wants of the sick, wounded and dying soldiers. Her interest in the inmates of that institution was never permitted to die out.

It was not patriotism,—for Miss Davis was not a native of this country—but rather a profound sympathy with the cause in which they were engaged which led her, in company with the late Rev. Dr. Vaughan of Philadelphia (of whose family she was an inmate) to visit this place and aid him in his philanthropic and official duties. The necessity of the case led her to labor regularly and assiduously to supply the lack of many comforts which was felt here, and the need of woman's nursing and comforting ways. By the month of May, ensuing, she was giving up her whole time to these ministrations, and this at a considerable sacrifice, and extending her efforts so as to alleviate the temporal condition of the sufferers, as well as to minister to their spiritual ones.

In the early part of this summer, memorable as the season of the Peninsula Campaign, she, in company with Mrs. M. M. Husband, of Philadelphia, entered upon the transport service on the James and Potomac Rivers, principally on board the steamer "John Brooks"—passing to and fro with the sick and wounded between Harrison's Landing, Fortress Monroe and Philadelphia. This joint campaign ended with a sojourn of two months at Mile Creek Hospital, Fortress Monroe.

Her friend, Mrs. H. thus speaks of her. "A more lovely Christian character, a more unselfishly devoted person, than Miss Davis, I have never known. Her happy manner of approaching the soldiers, especially upon religious subjects, was unequalled; the greatest scoffer would listen to her with respect and attention, while the majority followed her with a glance of veneration as if she were a being of a superior order. I heard one say, 'there must be wings hidden beneath her cloak.'"

After leaving Fortress Monroe, Miss Davis returned to Philadelphia, and recruited her supplies for the use of the soldiers. She was anxious to be permitted to serve in the field hospitals, but owing to unusual strictness of regulation at that time, she was not permitted to do so. Later in the season she accompanied Mrs. Husband to Frederick City, Harper's Ferry and Antietam, at which latter place, by the invitation of Surgeon Vanderkieft, and Miss Hall, she remained several weeks doing very acceptable service.

During the winter of 1863 she renewed her efforts to gain permission to serve in the field hospitals of the army, then in winter quarters between Falmouth and Acquia Creek, but was again repulsed. In the spring she once more renewed her efforts, but without success. Again visiting Washington, she was requested to become the agent of the Sanitary Commission, at Camp Parole, Annapolis, Maryland.

She commenced her laborious duties at Camp Parole about the 1st of May, 1863. She made numerous friends here, among all classes with whom she came in contact, and did a most admirable work among the returned prisoners. She remained here the whole summer, never allowing herself one day's absence, until October. She suffered from ague, and her labors were far too great for her strength. Camp, or typhoid fever, seized her, and after long striving against weakness and pain, she was obliged to return to her home to recruit. She made great efforts to again take up her work where she had been obliged to leave it, but her strength would not admit.

She did not recover from this illness until the following February, nor even then could she be said to have fully recovered. As soon as the state of her health permitted, indeed before her physician gave his consent, she resumed her labors at Camp Parole, but in a few weeks the fever set in again, and further service was rendered impossible. Thus closed the ministrations in field and hospital, of one, of whom a friend who knew her well, and appreciated her fully, simply says, "Her deeds were beyond praise."

Her health was so undermined by her labors, that it has never been fully recovered, and she still suffers, as she perhaps will to the end of her life, from the weakness and diseases induced, by her unwonted exertions, and the fevers which so greatly prostrated her.

Nearly two years, as we have seen, she gave to her labors in camp and hospital, labors which, as we have seen, were principally directed to the relief of physical sufferings, though she never forgot to mingle with them the spiritual ministrations which were the peculiar feature of her usefulness.

The interest of Miss Davis was not limited to soldiers in hospitals, any more than were her labors confined to efforts for their relief. From her numerous friends, and from societies, she was in constant receipt of money, delicacies, reading matter, and many other things, both valuable and useful to the soldiers, and not embraced in the government supplies, nor sold by sutlers. These she distributed among both sick and well, as their needs required.

"She corresponded largely with the friends of sick soldiers; she represented their needs to those who had the means to relieve them; she used her influence in obtaining furloughs for the convalescents, and discharges for the incurables; she importuned tape-bound officials for passes, that the remains of the poor unpaid soldier might be buried beside his parents; she erected head-boards at every soldier's grave at that time in the cemetery at West Philadelphia, as a temporary memorial and record."

In the heat of Virginian summers, and the inclement winters, it was with her the same steady unchanged work, till sickness put an end to her labors. Till the last her intercourse with the soldiers was always both pleasant, and in the highest sense profitable.



MRS. R. H. SPENCER.

Of all the band of noble women who during the war gave their time and best labors with devotedness and singleness of purpose to the care of the suffering defenders of their country, few, perhaps, have been as efficient and useful in their chosen sphere as Mrs. Spencer.

That she left a home of quiet ease and comfort, and gave herself, with her whole soul, to the cause she loved, is not more than very many others have done, but she incited her husband to offer himself to his country, and gladly accompanied him, sharing all his privations, and creating for him, amid the rudest surroundings, home with all its comforts and enjoyments.

At the commencement of the war, Mrs. Spencer was living at Oswego, New York, which had been her residence for many years. Her husband, Captain R. H. Spencer, had been formerly commander of several of the finest vessels which sail from that port in the trade upon the upper lakes. But for some years he had remained on shore, and devoted himself to the occupation of teaching, in which he had a very fine reputation. Mrs. Spencer was also a teacher, and both were connected with the public schools for which that city is celebrated.

Mr. Spencer was a member of that wing of the Democratic party which opposed the war, and his age already exempted him from military duty.



When, therefore, immediately after the battle of Antietam he announced to Mrs. Spencer that he had resolved to enlist in the Regiment then rapidly forming in that city, she knew well, as did all who knew him, that only an imperative sense of personal duty had led to the decision.

Oswego had to mourn the most irreparable losses in that battle. The flower of her young men had been cut down, and many homes made desolate. Mr. Spencer, like many others, felt impelled to add himself to the patriot ranks, and help to fill the gaps left by the fallen.

Mrs. Spencer, whose name and person had long been familiar to the sick and suffering at home, had often longed for the power of ministering to those who had taken their lives in their hands, and gone forth in the service of their country. And she now not only gave her husband to the work, but resolved to aid him in it. She might not stand by his side, in the armed ranks, but there was, for her, service as arduous and important, for which she was peculiarly fitted, not only by the extreme kindness and benevolence of her nature, but by experience in the care of the sick.

When her husband had enlisted and was sworn into the service, she, too, took the oath to faithfully serve her country, and her place by his side.

The regiment (one hundred and forty-seventh New York) left Oswego the 27th of September, 1862, and arrived in Washington the 1st of October. Mrs. Spencer, fatigued and ill, overcome with the excitement of preparation, perhaps, and the grief of parting with her friends, found herself thus in a strange city and upon the threshold of a strange new life. She obtained a little sleep upon a bench outside the Soldiers' Rest, and though scarcely refreshed commenced her duties early on the following morning by feeding from her own stores six wounded men from the battle of Antietam, who had arrived during the night. After making tea for them, and doing all she could for their comfort, she was obliged to leave, as the regiment was en route for Arlington Heights.

Mrs. Spencer remained in the neighborhood of Washington until the middle of the December following. The regiment had gone forward some time previously, leaving herself and husband in charge of the hospital stores. Her husband was ward-master of the hospital, and she was matron and nurse.

When the hospital tents and stores were sent to Acquia Creek, to the regiment, Mr. and Mrs. Spencer remained for a time to care for the sick and wounded in Washington, and volunteered to take care of the wounded from the first battle of Fredericksburg, who were brought to the Patent Office.

On the 12th of January Mr. Spencer went to join the regiment at Falmouth, while Mrs. Spencer proceeded to New York for supplies, and on the 17th returned and joined the regiment at Belle Plain, proceeding almost immediately to Wind Mill Point, in company with the sick and wounded removed thither. Here she remained six months, engaged in her arduous duties as matron in the hospital of the First Corps, to which her husband was also attached.

From this place they were transferred to Belle Plain, and after a short stay from thence to Acquia Creek, where they remained attached to the hospital until the 13th of June, when they were ordered to report to their regiment, then lying near Falmouth.

Mrs. Spencer had by this time, by much practice, become an expert horse-woman, often foraging on her own account for supplies for the sick and wounded under her care. By the order of Dr. Hurd, the Medical Director of the First Corps, she took with her the horse she had been accustomed to ride, and a few days afterwards commenced on horseback the march to Gettysburg—now become historical.

Nearly two weeks were consumed in this march, one of which was spent in an encampment on Broad Run.

Mrs. Spencer's horse carried, besides herself, her bedding, sundry utensils for cooking, and a scanty supply of clothing, about three hundred and fifty pounds of supplies for the sick. In addition to this she often took charge of huge piles of coats belonging to the weary men, which otherwise they would have thrown away as superfluous during the intense heat of midday, to miss them sorely afterward amid the twilight dews, or the drenching rains.

The battle had already commenced as the long slow-moving train, to which they were attached, approached Gettysburg, and the awful roar of cannon and the scattering rattle of musketry reached their ears.

The day previous an ammunition-wagon in their train had exploded, and Mrs. Spencer had torn up the thick comforter which usually formed her bed, that the driver of the wagon, who was fearfully burned, might be wrapped in the cotton and bandaged by the calico of which it was made. Mr. Spencer remained to care for the man, and at night—a dark and rainy night—she found herself for the first time separated from her husband, and unprotected by any friend. But the respectful and chivalric instincts of American soldiers proved sufficient for her defense against any evil that might have menaced her. They spread their rubber blankets upon the muddy ground, and made a sort of tent with others, into which she crept and slept guarded and secure through the long dark hours. At morning they vied with each other in preparing her breakfast, and waiting upon her with every possible respect and attention, and she went on her way, rested and refreshed.

In the course of the morning Mr. Spencer rejoined her. After the firing was heard, telling the tale of the awful conflict that was progressing, she felt that she could no longer remain with the halting train, but must press on to some point where her work of mercy might commence.

This was found in an unoccupied barn, not far from the field, where, by the assistance of her husband, she got a fire and soon had her camp-kettles filled with fragrant coffee, which she distributed to every weary and wounded man who applied for the refreshing beverage.

Wounded in considerable numbers from the Eleventh Corps were placed in this barn to gain which they crossed the fields between two rows of artillery, stationed there. Mrs. Spencer had two knapsacks and two haversacks suspended from her saddle, and supplied with materials for making tea, coffee and beef-tea—with these and crackers, she contrived to provide refreshment. Meanwhile the balls and shells were falling fast around the barn, and orders came to move further back.

But this brave woman with her husband chose to move forward rather, in search of her own regiment, though the enemy were then gaining upon the Union troops. As they went on toward the battle, they found their regiment stationed on a hill above them, and halting they made a fire and prepared refreshments which they gave to all they could reach.

While working here the Surgeon of the First Division came hurrying past, and peremptorily called on Mrs. Spencer to go and help form a hospital. When she and Mr. Spencer found that many men of their own regiment were in the train of ambulances which was going slowly past with the sufferers, they followed.

They crossed to the White Church, on the Baltimore turnpike, about four miles from Gettysburg, and reached there after dark. They had sixty wounded undergoing every variety of suffering and torture. The church was small, having but one aisle, and the narrow seats were fixtures. A small building adjoining provided boards which were laid on the tops of the seats, and covered with straw, and on these the wounded were laid.

The supply train had been sent back fourteen miles. A number of surgeons were there, but none had instruments, and could do very little for the wounded, and Mrs. Spencer found the stores contained in her knapsacks and haversacks most useful in refreshing these sufferers.

In the course of a few days the confusion subsided. The hospital was thoroughly organized. The Sanitary and Christian Commissions and the people came and aided them, and order came out of the chaos that followed this awful battle.

On the 5th of July, the buildings and tents which formed this hospital contained over six hundred Union troops, and more than one hundred wounded prisoners, and Mrs. Spencer found herself constantly and fully employed, nursing the wounded, and daily riding into town for supplies.

It was here that she gained, and very justly as it would seem, the credit of saving the life of a wounded soldier, a townsman of her own. The man was shot in the mouth and throat, a huge gaping orifice on the side of his neck showing where the ball found exit. The surgeons gave him but a few days to live, as he could swallow nothing, the liquids which were all he even could attempt to take, passing out by the wound. Tearfully he besought Mrs. Spencer's aid. Young and strong, and full of life, he could not contemplate a death of slow starvation. Mrs. Spencer went to the surgeons and besought their aid. None of them could give hope, for none conceived the strength of will in nurse or patient.

"Do as I tell you ——, and you shall not die," said Mrs. Spencer. "Can you bear to go without food a week?"

Gratefully the man signed "yes," and with the tough unyielding patience of a hero, he bore the pains of wound and hunger. In the meantime the chief appliance was the basin of pure cold water from which he was directed to keep his wound continually wet, that horrid wound which it seemed no human skill could heal.

In a few days the inflammation began to subside, even the surgeons decided the symptoms good, and began to watch the case with interest. The ragged edges of the wound, when the swelling subsided, could be closed up. Then, by direction of his kind nurse, he plunged his face into a basin of broth, and supped from it strength, since it did not all escape from the still unhealed wound. Every day witnessed an improvement. In a little time he took his food like a human being; each day witnessed new strength and healing, and then he was saved, and the nurse proved wiser, for once, than the doctor!

For three weeks Mrs. Spencer remained in the White Church Hospital. She then accompanied some wounded to New York City, and took a brief respite from her duties, and the awful scenes she had witnessed.

On her return to Gettysburg, she received as a mark of the esteem felt for her by those who had witnessed her labors and devotion to the work, and the confidence reposed in her, the appointment of Agent of the State of New York, in the care of its sick and wounded soldiers in the field. Large discretionary powers, both as to the purchase and the distribution of supplies, were granted her; and every effort was made to have this appointment distinguished as a mark of the high appreciation and esteem which she had won in the discharge of her duties.

As her husband was detailed as clerk in the Medical Purveyor's Office, at Gettysburg, she remained there in the active performance of her duties for a considerable time.

Beside the supplies furnished by the State of New York, a large amount were entrusted to her, by various Ladies' Aid Societies, and kindred associations.

After leaving Gettysburg, Mrs. Spencer was variously but usefully employed at various places, and in various ways, but always making her duties as State agent for the New York troops prominent, and of the first importance. She was for some time at Brandy Station. While there her husband received his discharge from the Volunteer Service, but immediately entered the regular service, as Hospital Steward, and was attached to the Medical Purveyor's Department.

From Brandy Station, Mrs. Spencer went to Alexandria, and remained there until after the battle of the Wilderness, when she was ordered by the Surgeon-General to repair to Rappahannock Station, with needful supplies for the wounded. On arriving there, no wounded were found, and it was rumored that the ambulances containing them had been intercepted by the enemy, and turned another way.

The party therefore returned to Alexandria, and there received orders to repair with stores to Belle Plain. The Steamer on which Mrs. Spencer was, arrived at day-break at its destination, but she could not for some time get on shore. As soon as possible she landed, anxious to let her services be of some avail to the many wounded who stood in immediate need of assistance, and thinking she might at least make coffee or tea for some of them.

After distributing what supplies she had, she found in another part of the field several Theological Students, delegates of the Sanitary Commission, who were making coffee in camp kettles for the wounded. Her services were thankfully accepted by them. All the day, and far into the night they worked, standing inches deep in the tenacious Virginia mud, till thousands had been served.

All the afternoon the wounded were arriving. Thousands were laid upon the ground, upon the hill-side, perhaps under the shelter of a bush, perhaps with only the sky above them, from which the rain poured in torrents.

All with scarcely an exception were patient, cheerful, and thoughtful—when asked as to their own condition, seeming more troubled by the risk she ran in taking cold, than of their own sufferings.

Late in the night, she remembered that she was alone, and must rest somewhere. A wagon driver willingly gave her his place in the wagon, and thoroughly drenched with rain, and covered with mud, she there rested for the first time in many hours. Her sad and anxious thoughts with her physical discomforts prevented sleep, but with the dawn she had rested so much, as to be able to resume her labors.

Another, and another day passed. The wounded from those fearful battles continued to arrive, and to be cared for, as well as was possible under the circumstances. The workers were shortly afterward made as comfortable as was possible. For two weeks Mrs. Spencer remained, and labored at Belle Plain, remained till her clothing of which, not expecting to remain, she had brought no change, was nearly worn out. The need was so pressing, of care for the wounded, that she scarcely thought of herself.

In the latter part of May, she left Belle Plain, and went to Port Royal, where similar scenes were enacted, save that there a shelter was provided. She had joined forces with the Sanitary Commission, and the facilities were now good and the workers numerous, yet it was barely possible, with all these, and with Government and Commission supplies, and private contributions, to feed the applicants.

The Medical Purveyor's boat with her husband on board, having arrived, Mrs. Spencer proceeded on that boat to White House, where she was placed in Superintendence of the Government Cooking Barge, continuing at the same time her supervision of the wants of the New York soldiery.

Here they fed the first wounded who arrived from the field, and here Mrs. Spencer continued many days directing the feeding of thousands more, ever remembering the regiments from her own State, as her special charge, and assisted by many volunteers and others in her arduous task.

On the 18th of June, 1864, Mrs. Spencer arrived at City Point. The wounded were still arriving, and there was enough for all to do. A Hospital was here established, a mile from the landing. The Government kitchen was kept up, till the hospitals and their kitchens were in full operation, when it was discontinued, and Mrs. Spencer relieved from her double task.

From that time, Mrs. Spencer confined herself mostly to the duties of her agency, and continued to make City Point her headquarters and base of operations until the close of the war closed the agency, and left her free once again to seek the welcome seclusion of her home.

She occasionally visited the General Hospitals to distribute supplies to her New York soldiers and others, but these being now well organized, did not, owing to the plenty of attendants greatly need her services, and they were mostly confined to visits to soldiers in the field, at the Front, Field Hospitals, and in the Rifle Pits.[I]

[Footnote I: Every facility was furnished her by the various officers in command, and a special and permanent pass by General Grant.]

Her equestrian skill now often came in use. Often a ride of from twenty to forty miles in the day would enable her to visit some outlying regiment or picket station, or even to reach the Rifle Pits that honeycombed plain and hill-side all about Petersburg and Richmond, and return the same day. On these occasions she was warmly and enthusiastically welcomed by the soldiers, not only for what she brought, but for the comfort and solace of her presence.

She was often in positions of great peril from whizzing shot and bursting shell, but was never harmed during these dangerous visits. On one occasion, she was probably by reason of her black hat and feather, mistaken for an officer, as she for a moment carelessly showed the upper part of her person, from a slight eminence near the rifle pits, and was fired at by one of the enemy's sharp-shooters. The ball lodged in a tree, close by her side, from which she deliberately dug it out with her penknife, retaining it as a memento of her escape.

Few of us whose days have been passed in the serene quietude of home, can imagine the comfort and joy her presence and cheering words brought to the "boys" undergoing the privations and discomforts of their station at the "Front," in those days of peril and siege. As she approached, her name would be heard passing from man to man, with electric swiftness, and often the shouts that accompanied it, would receive from the enemy a warlike response in the strange music of the whistling shot, or the bursting shell.

Through all this she seemed to bear a charmed life. "I never believed I should be harmed by shot or shell," she says, and her simple faith was justified.

She even escaped nearly unharmed the fearful peril of the great explosion at City Point, when, as it is now supposed, by rebel treachery, the ammunition barge was fired, and hundreds of human beings without an instant's warning, were hurried into eternity.

When this event occurred, she was on horseback near the landing, and in turning to flee was struck, probably by a piece of shell, in the side. Almost as by a miracle she escaped with only a terrible and extensive bruise, and a temporary paralysis of the lower limbs. The elastic steel wires of her crinoline, had resisted the deadly force of the blow, which otherwise would undoubtedly have killed her. A smaller missile, nearly cut away the string of her hat, which was found next day covered by the ghastly smear of human blood and flesh, which also sprinkled all her garments.

After the surrender of Richmond, Mrs. Spencer, with a party of friends, visited that city, and she records that she experienced a very human sense of satisfaction, as she saw some rebel prisoners marching into that terrible Libby Prison, to take the place of the Union prisoners who had there endured such fearful and nameless sufferings.

On the 8th of April the President came to visit the hospitals at City Point, shaking hands with the convalescents, who were drawn up to receive him, and speaking cheering words to all. A week later he had fallen the victim of that atrocious plot which led to his assassination.

Mrs. Spencer remained at City Point, engaged in her duties, till all the wounded had been removed, and the hospitals broken up. On the 31st of May, she went on the medical supply boat to Washington. She there offered her services to aid in any way in care of the wounded, while she remained, which she did for several days. About the middle of June she once more found herself an inmate of her own home, and, after the long season of busy and perilous days, gladly retired to the freedom and quiet of private life. She remained in the service about three years, and the entire time, with only the briefest intervals of rest, was well and profitably occupied in her duties, a strong will and an excellent constitution having enabled her to endure fatigues which would soon have broken down a person less fitted, in these respects, for the work.

Mrs. Spencer has received from soldiers, (who are all her grateful friends) from loyal people in various parts of the country, and from personal friends and neighbors, many tokens of appreciation, which she enumerates with just pride and gratitude. Not the least of these is her house and its furniture, a horse, a sewing machine, silver ware, and expensive books; beside smaller articles whose chief value arises from the feeling that caused the gifts. Her health has suffered in consequence of her labors but she now hopes for permanent recovery.



MRS. HARRIET FOOTE HAWLEY.

Among the many heroic women who gave their services to their country in our recent warfare, few deserve more grateful mention than Mrs. Harriet Foote Hawley, wife of Brevet Major-General Hawley, the present Governor of Connecticut.

Mrs. Hawley is of a fragile and delicate constitution, and one always regarded by her friends as peculiarly unfitted to have part in labors or hardships of any kind. But from the beginning to the end of the war, she was an exemplification of how much may be done by one "strong of spirit," even with the most delicate physical frame.

She went alone to Beaufort, South Carolina, in November, 1862, to engage in teaching the colored people. While there she regularly visited the army hospitals, and interested herself in the practical details of nursing, to which she afterwards more particularly devoted herself, and that spring and summer did the same at Fernandina and St. Augustine.

In November, 1863, she rejoined her husband on St. Helena Island, to which he had returned with his regiment from the siege of Charleston. She visited the Beaufort and Hilton Head General Hospitals, as well as the post hospital at St. Helena frequently during the winter, especially after the severe battle of Olustee, in February, 1864. When the Tenth Corps went to Fortress Monroe, to join General Butler's army, Mrs. Hawley went with them, and failing to find work in the Chesapeake Hospital, went to Washington and was assigned the charge of a ward in the Armory Square Hospital, on the very morning when the wounded began to arrive from the battles of the Wilderness.

Her ward was one of the two in the armory itself, which for a considerable time contained more patients than any other in that hospital. "Armory Square" being near the Potomac, usually received the most desperate cases, which could with difficulty be moved far. There could be no operating room connected with this ward, and the operations, however painful or dreadful, were of necessity performed in the ward itself. The scenes presented were enough to appal the stoutest nerves. The men exhausted by marching and by a long journey after their wounds, died with great rapidity—in one day forty-eight were carried out dead—many reaching the hospital only in time to die.

Among scenes like these Mrs. Hawley took up her abode, and labored with an untiring zeal over four months in the hottest of the summer weather—never herself strong—often suffering to a degree that would have confined others to the bed of an invalid. She was ever at her post, a guiding, directing, and comforting presence, until worn-out nature required a temporary rest. After two months of repose she again returned to the same ward, and continued her labors from November to the last of March, 1865.

About the first of March, directly after its capture, her husband had been assigned to the command of Wilmington, North Carolina.

She arrived at Wilmington, directly after nine thousand Union prisoners had been delivered there, of whom more than three thousand needed hospital treatment.

The army was entirely unprovided with any means of meeting this exigency. The horrible condition of the prisoners, and the crowds of half-fed whites and blacks collected in the town, bred a pestilence. Typhus or jail fever appeared in its most dreadful form, and the deaths were terribly frequent. The medical officers tried all their energies to get supplies.

The garrison, the loyal citizens, and all good people gave their spare clothing, and all delicacies of food within reach, to alleviate the suffering. At one time nearly four thousand sick soldiers, together with some wounded from the main army, were scattered through the dwellings and churches of the town, and a considerable time elapsed before one clean garment could be found for each sufferer. The principal surgeon, Dr. Buzzell, of New Hampshire, died of over exertion and typhoid fever. Of five northern ladies, professional nurses, three were taken sick and two died. Chaplain Eaton died of the fever, and other chaplains were severely sick. To the detailed soldiers the fever and climate proved a greater danger than a battle-field. Through all these scenes of trial and danger Mrs. Hawley exerted herself to the utmost, in the hospitals, and among the poor of the town, avoiding no danger of contagion, not even that of small-pox.

Gradually supplies arrived, better hospitals were provided, the town was cleansed, and by the latter part of June—though the city was still unhealthy—but few cases remained in the hospitals.

Mrs. Hawley accompanied her husband to Richmond about the 1st of July, where he had been appointed chief of staff to General Terry. In October, while returning from the battle-ground of Five Forks, where she had been with an uncle to find the grave of his son (Captain Parmerlee, First Connecticut Cavalry) she received an injury on the head by the upsetting of the ambulance, through which unfortunately she remains still an invalid.

Her name and memory must be dear to hundreds whose sufferings she has shared and relieved, and she will be followed in her retirement by the prayers of grateful hearts.

Although it does not perhaps belong to the purpose of this book, it seems not inappropriate to make mention of the labors of Mrs. Hawley in the education of the freedmen and their families. Both she and her sister, Miss Kate Foote, labored in this sphere long and assiduously.

Governor Hawley was one of the speakers at the Boston anniversaries, in May, 1866. Colonel Higginson, in alluding to his personal services, said he would tell of his better half. When Colonel Hawley went as commander of the Seventh Connecticut to Port Royal, to do his share of conquering and to conquer, he took with him a thousand bayonets on one side, and a Connecticut woman with her school-books on the other (applause). Where he planted the standard of the Union, she planted its institutions; and where he waved the sword, she waved the primer.



ELLEN E. MITCHELL.

This lady, better known among those to whom she ministered as "Nellie Mitchell," was at the opening of the late war a resident of Montrose, Pennsylvania, where, surrounded by friends, the inmate of a pleasant home, amiable, highly educated and accomplished, her early youth had been spent. Her family was one of that standing often named as "our first families," and her position one every way desirable.

Perhaps her own words extracted from a letter to the writer of this sketch will give the best statement of her views and motives.

"I only did my duty, did what I could, and did it because it would have been a great act of self-denial not to have done it.

"I have ever felt that those who cheerfully gave their loved ones to their country's cause, made greater sacrifices, manifested more heroism, were worthy of more honor by far, than those of us who labored in the hospitals or on the fields. I had not these 'dear ones' to give, so gave heartily what I could, myself to the cause, with sincere gratitude, I trust, to God, for the privilege of thus doing."

Miss Mitchell left her home in Montrose early in May, 1861, and proceeded to New York city, where she went through a course of instruction in surgical nursing at Bellevue Hospital, preparatory to assuming the duties of an army nurse. The unwonted labors, the terrible sights, and close attendance so impaired her health that after six weeks she concluded to go to Woodbury, Connecticut, where she remained with friends while awaiting orders, and in consequence did not join the army as soon as she otherwise would. Being absent from New York, one or two opportunities were lost, and it was not until September that her labors in the military hospitals commenced.

She had intended to give her services to her country, but after witnessing the frequent destitution of comforts among those to whom she ministered, she decided to receive the regular pay of a nurse from the Government, and appropriated it entirely to the benefit of the suffering ones around her.

Luxuries sent by her friends for her own use she applied in the same manner. The four years of her service were filled with self-sacrifice and faithful devoted labor.

Miss Mitchell spent the first three months in Elmore Hotel Hospital, Georgetown, District of Columbia. Around this place cluster some of the pleasantest, as well as the saddest memories of her life. The want of a well-arranged, systematic plan of action in this hospital, made the tasks of the nurses peculiarly arduous and trying. Yet Miss Mitchell records that she never found more delight in her labors, and never received warmer expressions of gratitude from her "boys." On being brought for the first time to a place associated in their minds only with gloom and suffering the joyful surprise of these poor fellows at finding kind hearts and willing hands ready to minister to their wants with almost motherly, or sisterly affection, exceeded words and called forth such manifestations of gratitude as amply rewarded those who thus watched over them for all their toils. Often as they saw these kindly women engaged in their busy tasks of mercy, their eyes would glisten as they followed them with the most intense earnestness, and their lips would unconsciously utter remarks like these, so homely and spontaneous as to leave no doubt of their sincerity. "How good! how home-like to see women moving around! We did not expect anything like this!"

But much as she loved her work and had become attached to her charges, circumstances of a very painful nature soon compelled Miss Mitchell to resign her post in this hospital. Very unworthy hands sometimes assume a ministry of kindness. There were associations here so utterly repugnant to Miss Mitchell, that with a sorrowful heart she at last forced herself to turn her back upon the suffering, in order to be free from them.

But Providence soon opened the way to another engagement. In less than two weeks she entered St. Elizabeth's Hospital. This was situated in Washington across the Eastern branch of the Potomac in an unfinished wing of the Insane Retreat.

Her initiation here was a sad, lonely night-watch, by the bed-side of a dying nurse, who about ten o'clock the following day, with none but strangers to witness her dying conflicts, passed from this scene of pain and struggle.

It was about the last of December that she entered here, and in February she was compelled to relinquish the care of her ward by a severe and dangerous illness which lasted seven weeks. Her greatest joy in returning health consisted in her restoration to the duties in which she had learned to delight.

During this illness Miss Mitchell was constantly attended and nursed by Miss Jessie Home, a young woman of Scottish birth, of whom mention is made in another place, a most excellent and self-sacrificing woman who afterwards lost her life in the cause of her adopted country.

This kindly care and the assiduous and skilful attentions of Dr. Stevens, who was the surgeon of the hospital were, as she gratefully believes, the means of preserving her life.

Miss Mitchell had scarcely recovered from this illness when she was unexpectedly summoned home to stand by the death-bed of a beloved mother. After a month's absence, sadly occupied in this watch of affection, she again returned to Washington, whence she was sent directly to Point Lookout, in Maryland, at the entrance of the Potomac into Chesapeake Bay, where a hospital had recently been established.

She remained about two months at Point Lookout, and was surrounded there with great suffering in all its phases, besides meeting with peculiar trials, which rendered her stay at this hospital the most unsatisfactory part of her "soldier life."

Her next station was at the Ware House Hospital, Georgetown, District of Columbia, where she was employed in the care of the wounded from the second battle of Bull Run. Most of these poor men were suffering from broken limbs, had lain several days uncared for upon the field, and were consequently greatly reduced in strength. They had besides suffered so much from their removal in the jolting ambulances, that many of them expressed a wish that they had been left to die on the field, rather than to have endured such torment. Miss Mitchell found here a sphere decidedly fitted to her peculiar powers, for she was always best pleased to labor in the surgical wards, and would dress and care for wounds with almost the skill, and more than the tenderness of a practiced surgeon.

After some time this hospital being very open, became untenantable, and in February was closed, and Miss Mitchell was transferred to Union Hotel Hospital, where five of the nurses being at that time laid up by illness, her duties became unusually arduous.

Since her former labors here the hospital had been closed, refitted, and reopened under every way improved auspices. The "boys" found themselves in every respect so kindly cared for, and so surrounded by home-like experience that it was with great regret they saw the hospital broken up, in March.

Miss Mitchell's inclination would then, as often before, have led her to the front, but she was forced to obey orders, "soldier-like," and found herself transferred to Knight Hospital, New Haven, as the next scene of her labors. Here she remained three months actively and usefully employed, but at the end of that time she had become so worn out with her long continued and arduous services, as to feel compelled to resign her position as army nurse. She soon after accepted a desirable situation in the Treasury Department, upon the duties of which she entered in July, 1863.

Miss Mitchell has never quite reconciled her conscience to this act, which she fears was too much tinged with selfishness and induced by interested motives. Feeling thus, she again enlisted as army nurse after a few months, resolving never again to abandon the service, while the war continued and strength was given her to labor.