Again he compares the hospital work of Miss Mitch.e.l.l and her fellow-laborers with that of the sisters of charity, in whose care he had previously been--the one human, alert, sympathizing--not loving sin, nor sinful men, but laboring for them, sacrificing for them, pardoning them as Christ does--the other working with machine-like accuracy, but with as little apparent emotion, showing none in fact beyond a prudish shrinking from these sufferers from the outer world, of which they know nothing but have only heard of its wickedness. The contrast is powerful, and shows Miss Mitch.e.l.l and her friends in fairest colors.

MISS JESSIE HOME.

Jessie Home was a native of Scotland. No ties bound her to this, her adopted land. No relative of hers, resided upon its soil. She was alone--far from kindred and the friends of her early youth. But the country of her adoption had become dear to her. She loved it with the ardor and earnestness which were a part of her nature, and she was willing, nay anxious, to devote herself to its service.

At the commencement of the war Miss Home was engaged in a pleasant and lucrative pursuit, which she abandoned that she might devote herself to the arduous and ill-paid duties of a hospital nurse.

She entered the service early in the war, and became one of the corps of Government nurses attached to the hospitals in the vicinity of Washington. Like others, regularly enlisted, and under orders from Miss Dix, the Government Superintendent of nurses, she was transferred from point to point and from hospital to hospital, as the exigencies of the service required. But she had only to be known to be appreciated, and her companions, her patients, and the surgeons under whom she worked, were equally attached to her, and loud in her praises. She entered into her work with her whole soul--untiring, faithful, of a buoyant temperament, she possessed a peculiar power of winning the love and confidence of all with whom she came in contact.

She was quite dependent upon her own resources, and in giving herself to the cause yielded up a profitable employment and with it her means of livelihood. Yet she denied herself all luxuries, everything but the merest necessities, that out of the pittance of pay received from the Government, out of the forty cents per day with which her labors were _rewarded_, she might save something for the wants of the suffering ones under her care.

And be it remembered always, that in this work it was not alone the well-born and the wealthy who made sacrifices, and gave grand gifts. Not from the sacrifice of gauds and frippery did the humble charities of these hired nurses come, but from the yielding up of a thousand needed comforts for themselves, and the forgetfulness of their own wants, in supplying the mightier wants of the suffering. It is impossible to mention them with words of praise beyond their merit.

For about two years Miss Home labored thus untiringly and faithfully, always alert, cheerful, active. During this time she had drawn to herself hosts of attached friends.

At the end of that period she fell a martyr to her exertions in the cause to which she had so n.o.bly devoted herself.

When attacked with illness, she must have felt all the horrors of desolation--for she was without means or home. But Providence did not desert her in this last dread hour of trial. Miss Rebecca Bergen of Brooklyn, N. Y., who had learned her worth by a few months' hospital a.s.sociation, deemed it a privilege to receive the sufferer at her own home, and to watch over the last hours of this n.o.ble life as it drew to a close, ministering to her sufferings with all the kindness and affection of a sister, and smoothing her pa.s.sage to the grave.

Thus, those, who without thought for themselves, devote their lives and energies to the welfare of others, are often unexpectedly cared for in the hour of their own extremity, and find friends springing up to protect them, and to supply their wants in the day of their need. Far from kindred and her native land, this devoted woman thus found friends and kindly care, and the stranger hands that laid her in an alien grave were warm with the emotion of loving hearts.

M. VANCE AND M. A. BLACKMAR.

Miss Mary Vance is a Pennsylvanian. Before the War, she was teaching among the Indians of Kansas or Nebraska, but it becoming unsafe there, she was forced to leave. She came to Miss Dix, who sent her to a Baltimore Hospital, in which she rendered efficient service, as she afterward did in Washington and Alexandria. In September, 1863, she went to the General Hospital, Gettysburg, where she was placed in charge of six wards, and no more indefatigable, faithful and judicious nurse was to be found on those grounds. She labored on continuously, going from point to point, as our army progressed towards Richmond, at Fredericksburg, suffering much from want of strengthening and proper food, but never murmuring, doing a vast amount of work, in such a quiet and unpretending manner, as to attract the attention from the lookers-on. Few, but the recipients of her kindness, knew her worth. At City Point, she was stationed in the Second Corps Hospital, where she, as usual, won the respect and esteem of the Surgeons and all connected with her.

Miss Vance labored the whole term of the War, with but three weeks'

furlough, in all that time. A record, that no other woman can give, and but few soldiers.

Miss Blackmar, one of Michigan's worthy daughters, was one of the youngest of the band of Hospital nurses. She, for ten months, labored unceasingly at City Point. More than usually skilful in wound dressing, she rendered efficient service to her Surgeons, as well as in saving many poor boys much suffering from the rough handling of inexperienced soldier-nurses. A lad was brought to her Wards, with a wound in the temple, which, in the course of time, ate into the artery. This she had feared, and was always especially careful in watching and attending to him. But, in her absence, a hemorrhage took place, the nurse endeavored to staunch the blood, but at last, becoming frightened, sent for a Surgeon. When she came back to the Ward, there lay her boy pale and exhausted, life almost gone. But she persevered in her efforts, and at last had the satisfaction of witnessing his recovery.

At City Point, Miss Vance and Miss Blackmar were tent-mates, and intimate friends--both noted for their untiring devotion to their work, their prudent and Christian deportment. As an instance of the wearying effects of the labors of a Hospital nurse, Mrs. Husband, who was the firm friend, and at City Point, the a.s.sociate of these two young ladies, relates the following; these two ladies, wearied as usual, retired one very cold night, Miss Blackmar taking a hot brick with her, for her feet. They slept the sound sleep of exhaustion for some time, when Miss Vance struggled into consciousness, with a sensation of smothering, and found that the tent was filled with smoke. After repeatedly calling her companion, she was forced to rise and shake her, telling her that she must be on fire. This at last aroused Miss Blackmar, who found that the brick had burned through the cloth in which it was wrapped, the straw-bed and two army blankets. By the application of water, the fire was quenched, and after airing the tent, they were soon sleeping as soundly as ever. But, in the morning, Miss Blackmar, to her consternation, found that her feet and ankles were badly burned, covered with blisters and very painful, though her sleep had been too sound to feel it before.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MISS HATTIE A. DADA.

Eng^d. by A.H. Ritchie.]

H. A. DADA AND S. E. HALL.

Miss Hattie A. Dada and Miss Susan E. Hall, were among the most earnest and persistent workers in a field which presented so many opportunities for labor and sacrifice. Both offered themselves to the Women's Central a.s.sociation of Relief, New York, immediately on the formation of that useful organization for any service, or in any capacity, where their aid could be made available. Both had formerly been employed by one of the Missionary Societies, in mission labors among the Indians of the Southwest, and were eminently fitted for any sphere of usefulness which the existing condition of our country could present to woman.

They were received by the a.s.sociation, and requested to join the cla.s.s of women who, with similar motives and intentions, were attending the series of lectures and surgical instructions which was to prepare them for the duties of nurses in the army hospitals.

On Sunday, July 21st, 1861, a memorable day, the first battle of Bull Run took place. On the following day, the 22d, the disastrous tidings of defeat and rout was received in New York, and the country was thrilled with pain and horror.

At noon, on Monday, the 22d, Miss Dada and Miss Hall received instructions to prepare for their journey to the scene of their future labors, and at six P.M. they took the train for Washington, with orders to report to Miss Dix. Tuesday morning found them amidst all the terrible excitement which reigned in that city. The only question Miss Dix asked, was, "Are you ready to work?" and added, "You are needed in Alexandria."

And toward Alexandria they were shortly proceeding. There were apprehensions that the enemy might pursue our retreating troops, of whom they met many as they crossed the Long Bridge, and pa.s.sed the fortifications all filled with soldiers watching for the coming foe who might then so easily have invaded the Federal City.

In some cabins by the road-side they first saw some wounded men, to whom they paused to administer words of cheer, and a "cup of cold water."

They were in great apprehension that the road might not be safe, and a trip to Richmond, in the capacity of prisoners was by no means to be desired.

At last they reached Alexandria, and in a dark stone building on Washington Street, formerly a seminary, found their hospital. They were denied admittance by the sentinel, but the surgeon in charge was called, and welcomed them to their new duties.

There they lay, the wounded, some on beds, many on mattresses spread upon the floor, covered with the blood from their wounds, and the dust of that burning summer battle-field, many of them still in their uniforms. The retreat was so unexpected, the wounded so numerous, and the helpers so few, that all were at once extremely busy in bringing order and comfort to that scene of suffering.

Their labors here were exceedingly arduous. No soldiers were detailed as attendants for the first few weeks, and even the most menial duties fell upon these ladies. Sometimes a contraband was a.s.signed them as a.s.sistant, but he soon tired of steady employment and left. They had little sleep and food that was neither tempting nor sufficient. So busy were they that two weeks elapsed before Miss Dada, whose letters furnish most of the material for this sketch, found time to write home, and inform her anxious friends "where she was."

A busy month pa.s.sed thus, and then the numbers in the hospital began to decrease, many of the convalescent being sent North, or having furloughs, till only the worst cases remained.

As the winter approached typhus fever began to prevail among the troops, and many distressing cases, some of which despite all their efforts proved mortal, came under the care of these ladies.

About the beginning of April, 1862, soon after the battle of Winchester, and the defeat of Stonewall Jackson by General Shields, Miss Dada and Miss Hall were ordered thither to care for the wounded. Here they were transferred from one hospital to another, without time to become more than vaguely interested in the individual welfare of their patients. At length at the third, the Court-House Hospital, they were permitted to remain for several weeks. Here many interesting cases were found, and they became much attached to some of the sufferers under their care, and found great pleasure in their duties.

On the 22d of May they were ordered to Strasburg, and proceeded thither to the care of several hundred sick, entirely unsuspicious of personal danger, not dreaming that it could be met with beside the headquarters of General Banks. But on the following day troops were observed leaving the town on the Front Royal road, and the same night the memorable retreat was ordered.

It was indeed a sad sight which met their eyes in the gray of early dawn. Ambulances and army wagons filled the streets. Soldiers from the hospitals, scarcely able to walk, crawled slowly and painfully along, while the sick were crowded into the overfilled ambulances.

Pressing forward they arrived at Winchester at noon, but the ambulances did not arrive till many hours later, with their dismal freight. The fright and suffering had overpowered many, and many died as they were carried into the hospitals. A little later the wounded began to come in, and the faithful, hard-worked surgeons and nurses had their hands full.

The retreating Union forces came pouring through the town, the rebels in close pursuit. The shouts of the combatants, and the continued firing, created great confusion. Fear was in every heart, pallor on every cheek, anxiety in every eye, for they knew not what would be their fate, but had heard that the wounded had been bayonetted at Front Royal the previous day. Many dying men, in their fright and delirium, leaped from their beds, and when laid down soon ceased to breathe.

Soon the rebels had possession of the town, and the ladies found themselves prisoners with a rebel guard placed about their hospital.

Their supplies were now quite reduced, and it was not until personal application had been made by the nurses to the rebel authorities, that suitable food was furnished.

When the army left Winchester, enough men were ordered to remain to guard the hospitals, and an order was read to all the inmates, that any of them seen in the streets would be shot.

Miss Dada and her friend remained at this place until the months of June and July were pa.s.sed. In August they were a.s.signed to Armory Square Hospital, Washington.

Previous to the second battle of Bull Run, all the convalescent men were sent further North, and empty beds were in readiness for the wounded, who on the evening after the battle were brought in, in great numbers, covered with the dust and gore of the field of conflict. Here the ministering care of these ladies was most needed. They hastened with basins and sponges, cold water and clean clothes, and soon the sufferers felt the benefits of cleanliness, and were laid, as comfortably as their wounds would admit, in those long rows of white beds that awaited them.

All were cheerful, and few regretted the sacrifices they had made. But in a few days many of these heroes succ.u.mbed before the mighty Conqueror. Their earthly homes they were never to see, but, one by one, they pa.s.sed silently to their last home of silence and peace, where the war of battle and the pain of wounds never disturb. One poor fellow, a Michigan soldier, wounded in the throat, could take no nourishment, nor scarcely breathe. His sufferings were intense, and his restlessness kept him constantly in motion as long as the strength for a movement remained. But at last, he silently turned his face to the wall, and so died. Another, a victim of lockjaw, only yielded to the influence of chloroform. Another, whom the surgeons could only reach the second day, had his arm amputated, but too late. Even while he believed himself on the road to recovery, bad symptoms had intervened; and while with grateful voice he was planning how he would a.s.sist Miss Dada as soon as he was well enough, in the care of other patients, the hand of death was laid upon him, and he soon pa.s.sed away.

Such are a few of the heart-rending scenes and incidents through which these devoted ladies pa.s.sed.

The month of November found Miss Dada at Harper's Ferry. Miss Hall had been at Antietam, but the friends had decided to be no longer separated.

They found that the Medical Director of the Twelfth Army Corps was just opening a hospital there, and the next day the sick and wounded from the regimental hospitals were brought in. They had suffered for lack of care, but though the new hospital was very scantily furnished, they found that cause of trouble removed. Many of them had long been ill, and want of cleanliness and vermin had helped to reduce them to extreme emaciation. Their filthy clothes were replaced by clean ones, and burned or thrown into the river, their heads shaven, and their revolting appearance removed. But many a youth whom sickness and suffering had given the appearance of old age, succ.u.mbed to disease and suffering, and joined the long procession to the tomb.