Project Gutenberg Australia
a treasure-trove of literature
treasure found hidden with no evidence of ownership




Title: Hospital Sketches
Author:  Louisa May Alcott


THESE SKETCHES
ARE RESPECTUFLLY DEDICATED
TO HER FRIEND
MISS HANNAH STEVENSON
BY
L.M.A.


CONTENTS
I.   Obtaining Supplies
II.  A Forward Movement
III. A Day
IV.  A Night
V.   Off Duty
VI.  A Postscript



CHAPTER I: OBTAINING SUPPLIES.

"I want something to do."

This remark being addressed to the world in general, no one
in particular felt it their duty to reply; so I repeated it
to the smaller world about me, received the following
suggestions, and settled the matter by answering my own
inquiry, as people are apt to do when very much in earnest.

"Write a book," quoth the author of my being.

"Don't know enough, sir. First live, then write."

"Try teaching again," suggested my mother.

"No thank you, ma'am, ten years of that is enough."

"Take a husband like my Darby, and fulfill your mission,"
said sister Joan, home on a visit.

"Can't afford expensive luxuries, Mrs. Coobiddy."

"Turn actress, and immortalize your name," said sister
Vashti, striking an attitude.

"I won't."

"Go nurse the soldiers," said my young brother, Tom,
panting for "the tented field."

"I will!"

So far, very good. Here was the will--now for the way. At first
sight not a foot of it appeared, but that didn't matter, for the
Periwinkles are a hopeful race; their crest is an anchor, with
three cock-a-doodles crowing atop. They all wear rose-colored
spectacles, and are lineal descendants of the inventor of aerial
architecture. An hour's conversation on the subject set the whole
family in a blaze of enthusiasm. A model hospital was erected,
and each member had accepted an honorable post therein. The
paternal P. was chaplain, the maternal P. was matron, and all the
youthful P.s filled the pod of futurity with achievements whose
brilliancy eclipsed the glories of the present and the past.
Arriving at this satisfactory conclusion, the meeting adjourned,
and the fact that Miss Tribulation was available as army nurse
went abroad on the wings of the wind.

In a few days a townswoman heard of my desire, approved of it,
and brought about an interview with one of the sisterhood which I
wished to join, who was at home on a furlough, and able and
willing to satisfy all inquiries. A morning chat with Miss
General S.--we hear no end of Mrs. Generals, why not a
Miss?--produced three results: I felt that I could do the work,
was offered a place, and accepted it, promising not to desert,
but stand ready to march on Washington at an hour's notice.

A few days were necessary for the letter containing my request
and recommendation to reach headquarters, and another, containing
my commission, to return; therefore no time was to be lost; and
heartily thanking my pair of friends, I tore home through the
December slush as if the rebels were after me, and like many
another recruit, burst in upon my family with the announcement--

"I've enlisted!"

An impressive silence followed. Tom, the irrepressible,
broke it with a slap on the shoulder and the graceful
compliment--

"Old Trib, you're a trump!"

"Thank you; then I'll take something:" which I did, in the
shape of dinner, reeling off my news at the rate of three
dozen words to a mouthful; and as every one else talked
equally fast, and all together, the scene was most inspiring.

As boys going to sea immediately become nautical in speech, walk
as if they already had their "sea legs" on, and shiver their
timbers on all possible occasions, so I turned military at once,
called my dinner my rations, saluted all new comers, and ordered
a dress parade that very afternoon. Having reviewed every rag I
possessed, I detailed some for picket duty while airing over the
fence; some to the sanitary influences of the wash-tub; others to
mount guard in the trunk; while the weak and wounded went to the
Work- basket Hospital, to be made ready for active service again.
To this squad I devoted myself for a week; but all was done, and
I had time to get powerfully impatient before the letter came. It
did arrive however, and brought a disappointment along with its
good will and friendliness, for it told me that the place in the
Armory Hospital that I supposed I was to take, was already
filled, and a much less desirable one at Hurly-burly House was
offered instead.

"That's just your luck, Trib. I'll tote your trunk up garret for
you again; for of course you won't go," Tom remarked, with the
disdainful pity which small boys affect when they get into their
teens. I was wavering in my secret soul, but that settled the
matter, and I crushed him on the spot with martial brevity--

"It is now one; I shall march at six."

I have a confused recollection of spending the afternoon in
pervading the house like an executive whirlwind, with my family
swarming after me, all working, talking, prophesying and
lamenting, while I packed my "go-abroady" possessions, tumbled
the rest into two big boxes, danced on the lids till they shut,
and gave them in charge, with the direction,--

"If I never come back, make a bonfire of them."

Then I choked down a cup of tea, generously salted instead
of sugared, by some agitated relative, shouldered my knapsack--
it was only a traveling bag, but do let me preserve the
unities--hugged my family three times all round without a
vestige of unmanly emotion, till a certain dear old lady
broke down upon my neck, with a despairing sort of wail--

"Oh, my dear, my dear, how can I let you go?"

"I'll stay if you say so, mother."

"But I don't; go, and the Lord will take care of you."

Much of the Roman matron's courage had gone into the Yankee
matron's composition, and, in spite of her tears, she would
have sent ten sons to the war, had she possessed them, as
freely as she sent one daughter, smiling and flapping on the
door-step till I vanished, though the eyes that followed me
were very dim, and the handkerchief she waved was very wet.

My transit from The Gables to the village depot was a funny
mixture of good wishes and good byes, mud-puddles and shopping.
A December twilight is not the most cheering time to enter upon
a somewhat perilous enterprise, and, but for the presence of
Vashti and neighbor Thorn, I fear that I might have added a drop
of the briny to the native moisture of--

    "The town I left behind me;"

though I'd no thought of giving out: oh, bless you, no!
When the engine screeched "Here we are," I clutched my escort
in a fervent embrace, and skipped into the car with as blithe a
farewell as if going on a bridal tour--though I believe brides
don't usually wear cavernous black bonnets and fuzzy brown
coats, with a hair-brush, a pair of rubbers, two books, and a
bag of ginger-bread distorting the pockets of the same. If I
thought that any one would believe it, I'd boldly state that I
slept from C. to B., which would simplify matters immensely; but
as I know they wouldn't, I'll confess that the head under
the funereal coal-hod fermented with all manner of high
thoughts and heroic purposes "to do or die,"--perhaps both; and
the heart under the fuzzy brown coat felt very tender with the
memory of the dear old lady, probably sobbing over her
army socks and the loss of her topsy-turvy Trib. At this
juncture I took the veil, and what I did behind it is nobody's
business; but I maintain that the soldier who cries when his
mother says "Good bye," is the boy to fight best, and
die bravest, when the time comes, or go back to her better
than he went.

Till nine o'clock I trotted about the city streets, doing
those last errands which no woman would even go to heaven
without attempting, if she could. Then I went to my usual
refuge, and, fully intending to keep awake, as a sort of vigil
appropriate to the occasion, fell fast asleep and dreamed
propitious dreams till my rosy-faced cousin waked me with a
kiss.

A bright day smiled upon my enterprise, and at ten I reported
myself to my General, received last instructions and no end of
the sympathetic encouragement which women give, in look, touch,
and tone more effectually than in words. The next step was to get
a free pass to Washington, for I'd no desire to waste my
substance on railroad companies when "the boys" needed even a
spinster's mite. A friend of mine had procured such a pass, and I
was bent on doing likewise, though I had to face the president of
the railroad to accomplish it. I'm a bashful individual, though I
can't get any one to believe it; so it cost me a great effort to
poke about the Worcester depot till the right door appeared, then
walk into a room containing several gentlemen, and blunder out my
request in a high state of stammer and blush. Nothing could have
been more courteous than this dreaded President, but it was
evident that I had made as absurd a demand as if I had asked for
the nose off his respectable face. He referred me to the Governor
at the State House, and I backed out, leaving him no doubt to
regret that such mild maniacs were left at large. Here was a
Scylla and Charybdis business: as if a President wasn't trying
enough, without the Governor of Massachusetts and the hub of the
hub piled on top of that. "I never can do it," thought I. "Tom
will hoot at you if you don't," whispered the inconvenient little
voice that is always goading people to the performance of
disagreeable duties, and always appeals to the most effective
agent to produce the proper result. The idea of allowing any boy
that ever wore a felt basin and a shoddy jacket with a
microscopic tail, to crow over me, was preposterous, so giving
myself a mental slap for such faint-heartedness, I streamed away
across the Common, wondering if I ought to say "your Honor," or
simply "Sir," and decided upon the latter, fortifying myself with
recollections of an evening in a charming green library, where I
beheld the Governor placidly consuming oysters, and laughing as
if Massachusetts was a myth, and he had no heavier burden on his
shoulders than his host's handsome hands.

Like an energetic fly in a very large cobweb, I struggled
through the State House, getting into all the wrong rooms and
none of the right, till I turned desperate, and went into one,
resolving not to come out till I'd made somebody hear and
answer me. I suspect that of all the wrong places I had
blundered into, this was the most so. But I didn't care;
and, though the apartment was full of soldiers, surgeons,
starers, and spittoons, I cornered a perfectly incapable person,
and proceeded to pump for information with the following result:

"Was the Governor anywhere about?"

No, he wasn't.

"Could he tell me where to look?"

No, he couldn't.

"Did he know anything about free passes?"

No, he didn't.

"Was there any one there of whom I could inquire?"

Not a person.

"Did he know of any place where information could be
obtained?"

Not a place.

"Could he throw the smallest gleam of light upon the
matter, in any way?"

Not a ray.

I am naturally irascible, and if I could have shaken this
negative gentleman vigorously, the relief would have been
immense. The prejudices of society forbidding this mode of
redress, I merely glowered at him; and, before my wrath
found vent in words, my General appeared, having seen me
from an opposite window, and come to know what I was about. At
her command the languid gentleman woke up, and troubled himself
to remember that Major or Sergeant or something Mc K. knew all
about the tickets, and his office was in Milk Street. I perked
up instanter, and then, as if the exertion was too much for
him, what did this animated wet blanket do but add--

"I think Mc K. may have left Milk Street, now, and I don't
know where he has gone."

"Never mind; the new comers will know where he has moved
to, my dear, so don't be discouraged; and if you don't succeed,
come to me, and we will see what to do next," said my General.

I blessed her in a fervent manner and a cool hall, fluttered
round the corner, and bore down upon Milk Street, bent on
discovering Mc K. if such a being was to be found. He wasn't,
and the ignorance of the neighborhood was really pitiable.
Nobody knew anything, and after tumbling over bundles of
leather, bumping against big boxes, being nearly annihilated by
descending bales, and sworn at by aggravated truckmen, I finally
elicited the advice to look for Mc K. in Haymarket Square. Who
my informant was I've really forgotten; for, having hailed
several busy gentlemen, some one of them fabricated this
delusive quietus for the perturbed spirit, who instantly
departed to the sequestered locality he named. If I had been in
search of the Koh-i-noor diamond I should have been as
likely to find it there as any vestige of Mc K. I stared at
signs, inquired in shops, invaded an eating house, visited the
recruiting tent in the middle of the Square, made myself a
nuisance generally, and accumulated mud enough to retard
another Nile. All in vain: and I mournfully turned my face
toward the General's, feeling that I should be forced to enrich
the railroad company after all; when, suddenly, I beheld that
admirable young man, brother-in-law Darby Coobiddy, Esq.
I arrested him with a burst of news, and wants, and woes,
which caused his manly countenance to lose its usual repose.

"Oh, my dear boy, I'm going to Washington at five, and I
can't find the free ticket man, and there won't be time to see
Joan, and I'm so tired and cross I don't know what to do; and
will you help me, like a cherub as you are?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I know a fellow who will set us
right," responded Darby, mildly excited, and darting into some
kind of an office, held counsel with an invisible angel, who
sent him out radiant. "All serene. I've got him. I'll see
you through the business, and then get Joan from the Dove
Cote in time to see you off."

I'm a woman's rights woman, and if any man had offered help
in the morning, I should have condescendingly refused it, sure
that I could do everything as well, if not better, myself. My
strong-mindedness had rather abated since then, and I was now
quite ready to be a "timid trembler," if necessary.

Dear me! how easily Darby did it all: he just asked one
question, received an answer, tucked me under his arm, and in
ten minutes I stood in the presence of Mc K., the Desired.

"Now my troubles are over," thought I, and as usual was
direfully mistaken.

"You will have to get a pass from Dr. H., in Temple Place,
before I can give you a pass, madam," answered Mc K., as blandly
as if he wasn't carrying desolation to my soul. Oh, indeed! why
didn't he send me to Dorchester Heights, India Wharf, or Bunker
Hill Monument, and done with it? Here I was, after a morning's
tramp, down in some place about Dock Square, and was told
to step to Temple Place. Nor was that all; he might as well have
asked me to catch a hummingbird, toast a salamander, or call on
the man in the moon, as find a Doctor at home at the busiest
hour of the day. It was a blow; but weariness had extinguished
enthusiasm, and resignation clothed me as a garment. I sent
Darby for Joan, and doggedly paddled off, feeling that mud was
my native element, and quite sure that the evening papers would
announce the appearance of the Wandering Jew, in feminine
habiliments.

"Is Dr. H. in?"

"No, mum, he aint."

Of course he wasn't; I knew that before I asked: and,
considering it all in the light of a hollow mockery, added:

"When will he probably return?"

If the damsel had said, "ten to-night," I should have felt
a grim satisfaction, in the fulfillment of my own dark prophecy;
but she said, "At two, mum;" and I felt it a personal insult.

"I'll call, then. Tell him my business is important:" with
which mysteriously delivered message I departed, hoping that I
left her consumed with curiosity; for mud rendered me an object
of interest.

By way of resting myself, I crossed the Common, for the
third time, bespoke the carriage, got some lunch, packed my
purchases, smoothed my plumage, and was back again, as the clock
struck two. The Doctor hadn't come yet; and I was morally
certain that he would not, till, having waited till the
last minute, I was driven to buy a ticket, and, five minutes
after the irrevocable deed was done, he would be at my service,
with all manner of helpful documents and directions.
Everything goes by contraries with me; so, having made up
my mind to be disappointed, of course I wasn't; for, presently,
in walked Dr. H., and no sooner had he heard my errand, and
glanced at my credentials, than he said, with the most engaging
readiness:

"I will give you the order, with pleasure, madam."

Words cannot express how soothing and delightful it was to
find, at last, somebody who could do what I wanted, without
sending me from Dan to Beersheba, for a dozen other to do
something else first. Peace descended, like oil, upon the
ruffled waters of my being, as I sat listening to the busy
scratch of his pen; and, when he turned about, giving me
not only the order, but a paper of directions wherewith to
smooth away all difficulties between Boston and Washington, I
felt as did poor Christian when the Evangelist gave him the
scroll, on the safe side of the Slough of Despond. I've no
doubt many dismal nurses have inflicted themselves upon the
worthy gentleman since then; but I am sure none have been more
kindly helped, or are more grateful, than T. P.; for
that short interview added another to the many pleasant
associations that already surround his name.

Feeling myself no longer a "Martha Struggles," but a
comfortable young woman, with plain sailing before her, and the
worst of the voyage well over, I once more presented myself to
the valuable Mc K. The order was read, and certain
printed papers, necessary to be filled out, were given a
young gentleman--no, I prefer to say Boy, with a scornful
emphasis upon the word, as the only means of revenge now left
me. This Boy, instead of doing his duty with the diligence so
charming in the young, loitered and lounged, in a manner
which proved his education to have been sadly neglected in the--

    "How doth the little busy bee,"

direction. He stared at me, gaped out of the window, ate
peanuts, and gossiped with his neighbors--Boys, like himself, and
all penned in a row, like colts at a Cattle Show. I don't
imagine he knew the anguish he was inflicting; for it was
nearly three, the train left at five, and I had my ticket
to get, my dinner to eat, my blessed sister to see, and the
depot to reach, if I didn't die of apoplexy. Meanwhile, Patience
certainly had her perfect work that day, and I hope she
enjoyed the job more than I did.

Having waited some twenty minutes, it pleased this reprehensible
Boy to make various marks and blots on my documents, toss them
to a venerable creature of sixteen, who delivered them to
me with such paternal directions, that it only needed a pat
on the head and an encouraging--"Now run home to your Ma, little
girl, and mind the crossings, my dear," to make the illusion
quite perfect.

Why I was sent to a steamboat office for car tickets, is
not for me to say, though I went as meekly as I should have gone
to the Probate Court, if sent. A fat, easy gentleman gave me
several bits of paper, with coupons attached, with a warning not
to separate them, which instantly inspired me with a yearning to
pluck them apart, and see what came of it. But, remembering
through what fear and tribulation I had obtained them, I curbed
Satan's promptings, and, clutching my prize, as if it were my
pass to the Elysian Fields, I hurried home. Dinner was rapidly
consumed; Joan enlightened, comforted, and kissed; the dearest
of apple-faced cousins hugged; the kindest of apple-faced
cousins' fathers subjected to the same process; and I mounted
the ambulance, baggage-wagon, or anything you please but hack,
and drove away, too tired to feel excited, sorry, or glad.



CHAPTER II: A FORWARD MOVEMENT.

As travellers like to give their own impressions of a journey,
though every inch of the way may have been described a half a
dozen times before, I add some of the notes made by the way,
hoping that they will amuse the reader, and convince the
skeptical that such a being as Nurse Periwinkle does exist, that
she really did go to Washington, and that these Sketches are not
romance.

New York Train--Seven P.M.--Spinning along to take the boat at New
London. Very comfortable; much gingerbread, and Mrs. C.'s fine
pear, which deserves honorable mention, because my first
loneliness was comforted by it, and pleasant recollections of
both kindly sender and bearer. Look much at Dr. H.'s paper of
directions--put my tickets in every conceivable place, that they
may be get-at-able, and finish by losing them entirely. Suffer
agonies till a compassionate neighbor pokes them out of a crack
with his pen-knife. Put them in the inmost corner of my purse,
that in the deepest recesses of my pocket, pile a collection of
miscellaneous articles atop, and pin up the whole.
Just get composed, feeling that I've done my best to keep them
safely, when the Conductor appears, and I'm forced to rout them
all out again, exposing my precautions, and getting into a
flutter at keeping the man waiting. Finally, fasten them on the
seat before me, and keep one eye steadily upon the yellow
torments, till I forget all about them, in chat with the
gentleman who shares my seat. Having heard complaints of the
absurd way in which American women become images of petrified
propriety, if addressed by strangers, when traveling alone, the
inborn perversity of my nature causes me to assume an entirely
opposite style of deportment; and, finding my companion hails
from Little Athens, is acquainted with several of my three
hundred and sixty-five cousins, and in every way a respectable
and respectful member of society, I put my bashfulness in my
pocket, and plunge into a long conversation on the war, the
weather, music, Carlyle, skating, genius, hoops, and the
immortality of the soul.

Ten P.M.--Very sleepy. Nothing to be seen outside, but darkness
made visible; nothing inside but every variety of bunch into
which the human form can be twisted, rolled, or "massed," as Miss
Prescott says of her jewels. Every man's legs sprawl drowsily,
every woman's head (but mine,) nods, till it finally settles on
somebody's shoulder, a new proof of the truth of the everlasting
oak and vine simile; children fret; lovers whisper; old folks
snore, and somebody privately imbibes brandy, when the lamps go
out. The penetrating perfume rouses the multitude, causing some
to start up, like war horses at the smell of powder. When the
lamps are relighted, every one laughs, sniffs, and looks
inquiringly at his neighbor--every one but a stout gentleman, who,
with well-gloved hands folded upon his broad-cloth rotundity,
sleeps on impressively. Had he been innocent, he would
have waked up; for, to slumber in that babe-like manner, with a
car full of giggling, staring, sniffing humanity, was simply
preposterous. Public suspicion was down upon him at once. I doubt
if the appearance of a flat black bottle with a label would have
settled the matter more effectually than did the over dignified
and profound repose of this short-sighted being. His moral neck-
cloth, virtuous boots, and pious attitude availed him nothing,
and it was well he kept his eyes shut, for "Humbug!" twinkled at
him from every window-pane, brass nail and human eye around him.

Eleven P.M.--In the boat "City of Boston," escorted thither by my
car acquaintance, and deposited in the cabin. Trying to look as
if the greater portion of my life had been passed on board boats,
but painfully conscious that I don't know the first thing; so sit
bolt upright, and stare about me till I hear one lady say to
another--"We must secure our berths at once;" whereupon I dart at
one, and, while leisurely taking off my cloak, wait to discover
what the second move may be. Several ladies draw the curtains
that hang in a semi-circle before each nest--instantly I whisk
mine smartly together, and then peep out to see what next.
Gradually, on hooks above the blue and yellow drapery, appear the
coats and bonnets of my neighbors, while their boots and shoes,
in every imaginable attitude, assert themselves below, as if
their owners had committed suicide in a body. A violent creaking,
scrambling, and fussing, causes the fact that people are going
regularly to bed to dawn upon my mind. Of course they are; and so
am I--but pause at the seventh pin, remembering that, as I was
born to be drowned, an eligible opportunity now presents itself;
and, having twice escaped a watery grave, the third immersion
will certainly extinguish my vital spark. The boat is
new, but if it ever intends to blow up, spring a leak, catch
afire, or be run into, it will do the deed to-night, because I'm
here to fulfill my destiny. With tragic calmness I resign myself,
replace my pins, lash my purse and papers together, with my
handkerchief, examine the saving circumference of my hoop, and
look about me for any means of deliverance when the moist moment
shall arrive; for I've no intention of folding my hands and
bubbling to death without an energetic splashing first. Barrels,
hen-coops, portable settees, and life-preservers do not adorn the
cabin, as they should; and, roving wildly to and fro, my eye sees
no ray of hope till it falls upon a plump old lady, devoutly
reading in the cabin Bible, and a voluminous night-cap. I
remember that, at the swimming school, fat girls always floated
best, and in an instant my plan is laid. At the first alarm I
firmly attach myself to the plump lady, and cling to her through
fire and water; for I feel that my old enemy, the cramp, will
seize me by the foot, if I attempt to swim; and, though I can
hardly expect to reach Jersey City with myself and my baggage in
as good condition as I hoped, I might manage to get picked up by
holding to my fat friend; if not it will be a comfort to feel
that I've made an effort and shall die in good society. Poor dear
woman! how little she dreamed, as she read and rocked, with her
cap in a high state of starch, and her feet comfortably cooking
at the register, what fell designs were hovering about her, and
how intently a small but determined eye watched her, till it
suddenly closed.

Sleep got the better of fear to such an extent that my boots
appeared to gape, and my bonnet nodded on its peg, before I gave
in. Having piled my cloak, bag, rubbers, books and umbrella on
the lower shelf, I drowsily swarmed onto the upper one, tumbling
down a few times, and excoriating the knobby portions
of my frame in the act. A very brief nap on the upper roost was
enough to set me gasping as if a dozen feather beds and the whole
boat were laid over me. Out I turned; and after a series of
convulsions, which caused my neighbor to ask if I wanted the
stewardess, I managed to get my luggage up and myself down. But
even in the lower berth, my rest was not unbroken, for various
articles kept dropping off the little shelf at the bottom of the
bed, and every time I flew up, thinking my hour had come, I
bumped my head severely against the little shelf at the top,
evidently put there for that express purpose. At last, after
listening to the swash of the waves outside, wondering if the
machinery usually creaked in that way, and watching a knot-hole
in the side of my berth, sure that death would creep in there as
soon as I took my eye from it, I dropped asleep, and dreamed of
muffins.

Five A.M.--On deck, trying to wake up and enjoy an east wind and a
morning fog, and a twilight sort of view of something on the
shore. Rapidly achieve my purpose, and do enjoy every moment, as
we go rushing through the Sound, with steamboats passing up and
down, lights dancing on the shore, mist wreaths slowly furling
off, and a pale pink sky above us, as the sun comes up.

Seven A.M.--In the cars, at Jersey City. Much fuss with tickets,
which one man scribbles over, another snips, and a third "makes
note on." Partake of refreshment, in the gloom of a very large
and dirty depot. Think that my sandwiches would be more relishing
without so strong a flavor of napkin, and my gingerbread more
easy of consumption if it had not been pulverized by being sat
upon. People act as if early traveling didn't agree with them.
Children scream and scamper; men smoke and growl; women shiver
and fret; porters swear; great truck horses pace up
and down with loads of baggage; and every one seems to get into
the wrong car, and come tumbling out again. One man, with three
children, a dog, a bird-cage, and several bundles, puts himself
and his possessions into every possible place where a man, three
children, dog, bird-cage and bundles could be got, and is
satisfied with none of them. I follow their movements, with an
interest that is really exhausting, and, as they vanish, hope for
rest, but don't get it. A strong-minded woman, with a tumbler in
her hand, and no cloak or shawl on, comes rushing through the
car, talking loudly to a small porter, who lugs a folding bed
after her, and looks as if life were a burden to him.

"You promised to have it ready. It is not ready. It must be a car
with a water jar, the windows must be shut, the fire must be kept
up, the blinds must be down. No, this won't do. I shall go
through the whole train, and suit myself, for you promised to
have it ready. It is not ready," &c., all through again, like a
hand-organ. She haunted the cars, the depot, the office and
baggage-room, with her bed, her tumbler, and her tongue, till the
train started; and a sense of fervent gratitude filled my soul,
when I found that she and her unknown invalid were not to share
our car.

Philadelphia.--An old place, full of Dutch women, in "bellus top"
bonnets, selling vegetables, in long, open markets. Every one
seems to be scrubbing their white steps. All the houses look like
tidy jails, with their outside shutters. Several have crape on
the door-handles, and many have flags flying from roof or
balcony. Few men appear, and the women seem to do the business,
which, perhaps, accounts for its being so well done. Pass fine
buildings, but don't know what they are. Would like to stop and
see my native city; for, having left it at the tender
age of two, my recollections are not vivid.

Baltimore.--A big, dirty, shippy, shiftless place, full of goats,
geese, colored people, and coal, at least the part of it I see.
Pass near the spot where the riot took place, and feel as if I
should enjoy throwing a stone at somebody, hard. Find a guard at
the ferry, the depot, and here and there, along the road. A camp
whitens one hill-side, and a cavalry training school, or whatever
it should be called, is a very interesting sight, with quantities
of horses and riders galloping, marching, leaping, and
skirmishing, over all manner of break-neck places. A party of
English people get in--the men, with sandy hair and red whiskers,
all trimmed alike, to a hair; rough grey coats, very rosy, clean
faces, and a fine, full way of speaking, which is particularly
agreeable, after our slip-shod American gabble. The two ladies
wear funny velvet fur-trimmed hoods; are done up, like compact
bundles, in tar tan shawls; and look as if bent on seeing
everything thoroughly. The devotion of one elderly John Bull to
his red-nosed spouse was really beautiful to behold. She was
plain and cross, and fussy and stupid, but J. B., Esq., read no
papers when she was awake, turned no cold shoulder when she
wished to sleep, and cheerfully said, "Yes, me dear," to every
wish or want the wife of his bosom expressed. I quite warmed to
the excellent man, and asked a question or two, as the only means
of expressing my good will. He answered very civilly, but
evidently hadn't been used to being addressed by strange women in
public conveyances; and Mrs. B. fixed her green eyes upon me, as
if she thought me a forward hussy, or whatever is good English
for a presuming young woman. The pair left their friends before
we reached Washington; and the last I saw of them was a vision of
a large plaid lady, stalking grimly away, on the arm of
a rosy, stout gentleman, loaded with rugs, bags, and books, but
still devoted, still smiling, and waving a hearty "Fare ye well!
We'll meet ye at Willard's on Chusday."

Soon after their departure we had an accident; for no long
journey in America would be complete without one. A coupling iron
broke; and, after leaving the last car behind us, we waited for
it to come up, which it did, with a crash that knocked every one
forward on their faces, and caused several old ladies to screech
dismally. Hats flew off, bonnets were flattened, the stove
skipped, the lamps fell down, the water jar turned a somersault,
and the wheel just over which I sat received some damage. Of
course, it became necessary for all the men to get out, and stand
about in everybody's way, while repairs were made; and for the
women to wrestle their heads out of the windows, asking ninety-
nine foolish questions to one sensible one. A few wise females
seized this favorable moment to better their seats, well knowing
that few men can face the wooden stare with which they regard the
former possessors of the places they have invaded.

The country through which we passed did not seem so very unlike
that which I had left, except that it was more level and less
wintry. In summer time the wide fields would have shown me new
sights, and the way-side hedges blossomed with new flowers; now,
everything was sere and sodden, and a general air of
shiftlessness prevailed, which would have caused a New England
farmer much disgust, and a strong desire to "buckle to," and
"right up" things. Dreary little houses, with chimneys built
outside, with clay and rough sticks piled crosswise, as we used
to build cob towers, stood in barren looking fields, with cow,
pig, or mule lounging about the door. We often passed colored
people, looking as if they had come out of a picture
book, or off the stage, but not at all the sort of people I'd
been accustomed to see at the North.

Wayside encampments made the fields and lanes gay with blue coats
and the glitter of buttons. Military washes flapped and fluttered
on the fences; pots were steaming in the open air; all sorts of
tableaux seen through the openings of tents, and everywhere the
boys threw up their caps and cut capers as we passed.

Washington.--It was dark when we arrived; and, but for the
presence of another friendly gentleman, I should have yielded
myself a helpless prey to the first overpowering hackman, who
insisted that I wanted to go just where I didn't. Putting me into
the conveyance I belonged in, my escort added to the obligation
by pointing out the objects of interest which we passed in our
long drive. Though I'd often been told that Washington was a
spacious place, its visible magnitude quite took my breath away,
and of course I quoted Randolph's expression, "a city of
magnificent distances," as I suppose every one does when they see
it. The Capitol was so like the pictures that hang opposite the
staring Father of his Country, in boarding-houses and hotels,
that it did not impress me, except to recall the time when I was
sure that Cinderella went to housekeeping in just such a place,
after she had married the inflammable Prince; though, even at
that early period, I had my doubts as to the wisdom of a match
whose foundation was of glass.

The White House was lighted up, and carriages were rolling in and
out of the great gate. I stared hard at the famous East Room, and
would have liked a peep through the crack of the door. My old
gentleman was indefatigable in his attentions, and I said,
"Splendid!" to everything he pointed out, though I suspect I
often admired the wrong place, and missed the right.
Pennsylvania Avenue, with its bustle, lights, music, and
military, made me feel as if I'd crossed the water and landed
somewhere in Carnival time. Coming to less noticeable parts of
the city, my companion fell silent, and I meditated upon the
perfection which Art had attained in America--having just passed a
bronze statue of some hero, who looked like a black Methodist
minister, in a cocked hat, above the waist, and a tipsy squire
below; while his horse stood like an opera dancer, on one leg, in
a high, but somewhat remarkable wind, which blew his mane one way
and his massive tail the other.

"Hurly-burly House, ma'am!" called a voice, startling me from my
reverie, as we stopped before a great pile of buildings, with a
flag flying before it, sentinels at the door, and a very trying
quantity of men lounging about. My heart beat rather faster than
usual, and it suddenly struck me that I was very far from home;
but I descended with dignity, wondering whether I should be
stopped for want of a countersign, and forced to pass the night
in the street. Marching boldly up the steps, I found that no form
was necessary, for the men fell back, the guard touched their
caps, a boy opened the door, and, as it closed behind me, I felt
that I was fairly started, and Nurse Periwinkle's Mission was
begun.



CHAPTER III: A DAY.

"They've come! they've come! hurry up, ladies--you're wanted."

"Who have come? the rebels?"

This sudden summons in the gray dawn was somewhat startling to a
three days' nurse like myself, and, as the thundering knock came
at our door, I sprang up in my bed, prepared

    "To gird my woman's form,
     And on the ramparts die,"

if necessary; but my room-mate took it more coolly, and, as she
began a rapid toilet, answered my bewildered question,--

"Bless you, no child; it's the wounded from Fredericksburg; forty
ambulances are at the door, and we shall have our hands full in
fifteen minutes."

"What shall we have to do?"

"Wash, dress, feed, warm and nurse them for the next three
months, I dare say. Eighty beds are ready, and we were getting
impatient for the men to come. Now you will begin to see hospital
life in earnest, for you won't probably find time to sit down all
day, and may think yourself fortunate if you get to bed by
midnight. Come to me in the ball-room when you are ready; the
worst cases are always carried there, and I shall need your
help."

So saying, the energetic little woman twirled her hair into a
button at the back of her head, in a "cleared for action" sort of
style, and vanished, wrestling her way into a feminine kind of
pea-jacket as she went.

I am free to confess that I had a realizing sense of the fact
that my hospital bed was not a bed of roses just then, or the
prospect before me one of unmingled rapture. My three days'
experiences had begun with a death, and, owing to the defalcation
of another nurse, a somewhat abrupt plunge into the
superintendence of a ward containing forty beds, where I spent my
shining hours washing faces, serving rations, giving medicine,
and sitting in a very hard chair, with pneumonia on one side,
diphtheria on the other, five typhoids on the opposite, and a
dozen dilapidated patriots, hopping, lying, and lounging about,
all staring more or less at the new "nuss," who suffered untold
agonies, but concealed them under as matronly an aspect as a
spinster could assume, and blundered through her trying labors
with a Spartan firmness, which I hope they appreciated, but am
afraid they didn't. Having a taste for "ghastliness," I had
rather longed for the wounded to arrive, for rheumatism wasn't
heroic, neither was liver complaint, or measles; even fever had
lost its charms since "bathing burning brows" had been used up in
romances, real and ideal; but when I peeped into the dusky street
lined with what I at first had innocently called market carts,
now unloading their sad freight at our door, I recalled sundry
reminiscences I had heard from nurses of longer standing, my
ardor experienced a  sudden chill, and I indulged in a most
unpatriotic wish that I was safe at home again, with a quiet day
before me, and no necessity for being hustled up, as if I were a
hen and had only to hop off my roost, give my plumage a peck, and
be ready for action. A second bang at the door sent this recreant
desire to the right about, as a little woolly head popped in, and
Joey, (a six years' old contraband,) announced--

"Miss Blank is jes' wild fer ye, and says fly round right away.
They's comin' in, I tell yer, heaps on 'em--one was took out dead,
and I see him,--hi! warn't he a goner!"

With which cheerful intelligence the imp scuttled away, singing
like a blackbird, and I followed, feeling that Richard was not
himself again, and wouldn't be for a long time to come.

The first thing I met was a regiment of the vilest odors that
ever assaulted the human nose, and took it by storm. Cologne,
with its seven and seventy evil savors, was a posy-bed to it; and
the worst of this affliction was, every one had assured me that
it was a chronic weakness of all hospitals, and I must bear it. I
did, armed with lavender water, with which I so besprinkled
myself and premises, that, like my friend Sairy, I was soon known
among my patients as "the nurse with the bottle." Having been run
over by three excited surgeons, bumped against by migratory coal-
hods, water-pails, and small boys, nearly scalded by an avalanche
of newly-filled tea-pots, and hopelessly entangled in a knot of
colored sisters coming to wash, I progressed by slow stages up
stairs and down, till the main hall was reached, and I paused to
take breath and a survey. There they were! "our brave boys," as
the papers justly call them, for cowards could hardly have been
so riddled with shot and shell, so torn and shattered, nor have
borne suffering for which we have no name, with an uncomplaining
fortitude, which made one glad to cherish each as a brother. In
they came, some on stretchers, some in men's arms, some feebly
staggering along propped on rude crutches, and one lay stark and
still with covered face, as a comrade gave his name to be
recorded before they carried him away to the dead house. All was
hurry and confusion; the hall was full of these wrecks of
humanity, for the most exhausted could not reach a bed till duly
ticketed and registered; the walls were lined with rows of such
as could sit, the floor covered with the more disabled, the steps
and doorways filled with helpers and lookers on; the sound of
many feet and voices made that usually quiet hour as noisy as
noon; and, in the midst of it all, the matron's motherly face
brought more comfort to many a poor soul, than the cordial
draughts she administered, or the cheery words that welcomed all,
making of the hospital a home.

The sight of several stretchers, each with its legless, armless,
or desperately wounded occupant, entering my ward, admonished me
that I was there to work, not to wonder or weep; so I corked up
my feelings, and returned to the path of duty, which was rather
"a hard road to travel" just then. The house had been a hotel
before hospitals were needed, and many of the doors still bore
their old names; some not so inappropriate as might be imagined,
for my ward was in truth a ball-room, if gun-shot wounds could
christen it. Forty beds were prepared, many already tenanted by
tired men who fell down anywhere, and drowsed till the smell of
food roused them. Round the great stove was gathered the
dreariest group I ever saw--ragged, gaunt and pale, mud to the
knees, with bloody bandages untouched since put on days before;
many bundled up in blankets, coats being lost or useless; and all
wearing that disheartened look which proclaimed defeat,  more
plainly than any telegram of the Burnside blunder. I pitied them
so much, I dared not speak to them, though, remembering all they
had been through since the route at Fredericksburg, I yearned to
serve the dreariest of them all. Presently, Miss Blank tore me
from my refuge behind piles of one-sleeved shirts, odd socks,
bandages and lint; put basin, sponge, towels, and a block of
brown soap into my hands, with these appalling directions:

"Come, my dear, begin to wash as fast as you can. Tell them to
take off socks, coats and shirts, scrub them well, put on clean
shirts, and the attendants will finish them off, and lay them in
bed."

If she had requested me to shave them all, or dance a hornpipe on
the stove funnel, I should have been less staggered; but to scrub
some dozen lords of creation at a moment's notice, was
really--really--. However, there was no time for nonsense, and,
having resolved when I came to do everything I was bid, I drowned
my scruples in my wash-bowl, clutched my soap manfully, and,
assuming a business-like air, made a dab at the first dirty
specimen I saw, bent on performing my task vi et armis if
necessary. I chanced to light on a withered old Irishman, wounded
in the head, which caused that portion of his frame to be
tastefully laid out like a garden, the bandages being the walks,
his hair the shrubbery. He was so overpowered by the honor of
having a lady wash him, as he expressed it, that he did nothing
but roll up his eyes, and bless me, in an irresistible style
which was too much for my sense of the ludicrous; so we laughed
together, and when I knelt down to take off his shoes, he
"flopped" also, and wouldn't hear of my touching "them dirty
craters. May your bed above be aisy darlin', for the day's work
ye ar doon!--Whoosh! there ye are, and bedad, it's hard tellin'
which is the dirtiest, the fut or the shoe." It was; and if he
hadn't been to the fore, I should have gone on pulling, under the
impression that the "fut" was a boot, for trousers, socks, shoes
and legs were a mass of mud. This comical tableau produced a
general grin, at which propitious beginning I took heart and
scrubbed away like any tidy parent on a Saturday night. Some of
them took the performance like sleepy children, leaning their
tired heads against me as I worked, others looked grimly
scandalized, and several of the roughest colored like bashful
girls. One wore a soiled little bag about his neck, and, as I
moved it, to bathe his wounded breast, I said,

"Your talisman didn't save you, did it?"

"Well, I reckon it did, marm, for that shot would a gone a couple
a inches deeper but for my old mammy's camphor bag," answered the
cheerful philosopher.

Another, with a gun-shot wound through the cheek, asked for a
looking-glass, and when I brought one, regarded his swollen face
with a dolorous expression, as he muttered--

"I vow to gosh, that's too bad! I warn't a bad looking chap
before, and now I'm done for; won't there be a thunderin' scar?
and what on earth will Josephine Skinner say?"

He looked up at me with his one eye so appealingly, that I
controlled my risibles, and assured him that if Josephine was a
girl of sense, she would admire the honorable scar, as a lasting
proof that he had faced the enemy, for all women thought a wound
the best decoration a brave soldier could wear. I hope Miss
Skinner verified the good opinion I so rashly expressed of her,
but I shall never know.

The next scrubbee was a nice looking lad, with a curly brown
mane, and a budding trace of gingerbread over the lip, which he
called his beard, and defended stoutly, when the barber jocosely
suggested its immolation. He lay on a bed,  with one leg gone,
and the right arm so shattered that it must evidently follow: yet
the little Sergeant was as merry as if his afflictions were not
worth lamenting over; and when a drop or two of salt water
mingled with my suds at the sight of this strong young body, so
marred and maimed, the boy looked up, with a brave smile, though
there was a little quiver of the lips, as he said,

"Now don't you fret yourself about me, miss; I'm first rate here,
for it's nuts to lie still on this bed, after knocking about in
those confounded ambulances, that shake what there is left of a
fellow to jelly. I never was in one of these places before, and
think this cleaning up a jolly thing for us, though I'm afraid it
isn't for you ladies."

"Is this your first battle, Sergeant?"

"No, miss; I've been in six scrimmages, and never got a scratch
till this last one; but it's done the business pretty thoroughly
for me, I should say. Lord! what a scramble there'll be for arms
and legs, when we old boys come out of our graves, on the
Judgment Day: wonder if we shall get our own again? If we do, my
leg will have to tramp from Fredericksburg, my arm from here, I
suppose, and meet my body, wherever it may be."

The fancy seemed to tickle him mightily, for he laughed blithely,
and so did I; which, no doubt, caused the new nurse to be
regarded as a light-minded sinner by the Chaplain, who roamed
vaguely about, informing the men that they were all worms,
corrupt of heart, with perishable bodies, and souls only to be
saved by a diligent perusal of certain tracts, and other equally
cheering bits of spiritual consolation, when spirituous ditto
would have been preferred.

"I say, Mrs.!" called a voice behind me; and, turning, I saw a
rough Michigander, with an arm blown off at the shoulder, and two
or three bullets still in him--as he afterwards mentioned, as
carelessly as if gentlemen were in the habit of carrying such
trifles about with them. I went to him, and, while administering
a dose of soap and water, he whispered, irefully:

"That red-headed devil, over yonder, is a reb, damn him! You'll
agree to that, I'll bet? He's got shet of a foot, or he'd a cut
like the rest of the lot. Don't you wash him, nor feed him, but
jest let him holler till he's tired. It's a blasted shame to
fetch them fellers in here, along side of us; and so I'll tell
the chap that bosses this concern; cuss me if I don't."

I regret to say that I did not deliver a moral sermon upon the
duty of forgiving our enemies, and the sin of profanity, then and
there; but, being a red-hot Abolitionist, stared fixedly at the
tall rebel, who was a copperhead, in every sense of the word, and
privately resolved to put soap in his eyes, rub his nose the
wrong way, and excoriate his cuticle generally, if I had the
washing of him.

My amiable intentions, however, were frustrated; for, when I
approached, with as Christian an expression as my principles
would allow, and asked the question--"Shall I try to make you more
comfortable, sir?" all I got for my pains was a gruff--

"No; I'll do it myself."

"Here's your Southern chivalry, with a witness," thought I,
dumping the basin down before him, thereby quenching a strong
desire to give him a summary baptism, in return for his
ungraciousness; for my angry passions rose, at this rebuff, in a
way that would have scandalized good Dr. Watts. He was a
disappointment in all respects, (the rebel, not the blessed
Doctor,) for he was neither fiendish, romantic, pathetic, or
anything interesting; but a long, fat man, with a head like a
burning bush, and a perfectly expressionless face: so I could
dislike him without the slightest drawback, and ignored his
existence from that day forth. One redeeming trait he certainly
did possess, as the floor speedily testified; for his ablutions
were so vigorously performed, that his bed soon stood like an
isolated island, in a sea of soap-suds, and he resembled a
dripping merman, suffering from the loss of a fin. If cleanliness
is a near neighbor to godliness, then was the big rebel the
godliest man in my ward that day.

Having done up our human wash, and laid it out to dry, the second
syllable of our version of the word war-fare was enacted with
much success. Great trays of bread, meat, soup and coffee
appeared; and both nurses and attendants turned waiters, serving
bountiful rations to all who could eat. I can call my pinafore to
testify to my good will in the work, for in ten minutes it was
reduced to a perambulating bill of fare, presenting samples of
all the refreshments going or gone. It was a lively scene; the
long room lined with rows of beds, each filled by an occupant,
whom water, shears, and clean raiment, had transformed from a
dismal ragamuffin into a recumbent hero, with a cropped head. To
and fro rushed matrons, maids, and convalescent "boys,"
skirmishing with knives and forks; retreating with empty plates;
marching and counter-marching, with unvaried success, while the
clash of busy spoons made most inspiring music for the charge of
our Light Brigade:

   "Beds to the front of them,
    Beds to the right of them,
    Beds to the left of them,
    Nobody blundered.
    Beamed at by hungry souls,
    Screamed at with brimming bowls,
    Steamed at by army rolls,
    Buttered and sundered.
    With coffee not cannon plied,
    Each must be satisfied,
    Whether they lived or died;
    All the men wondered."

Very welcome seemed the generous meal, after a week of suffering,
exposure, and short commons; soon the brown faces began to smile,
as food, warmth, and rest, did their pleasant work; and the
grateful "Thankee's" were followed by more graphic accounts of
the battle and retreat, than any paid reporter could have given
us. Curious contrasts of the tragic and comic met one everywhere;
and some touching as well as ludicrous episodes, might have been
recorded that day. A six foot New Hampshire man, with a leg
broken and perforated by a piece of shell, so large that, had I
not seen the wound, I should have regarded the story as a
Munchausenism, beckoned me to come and help him, as he could not
sit up, and both his bed and beard were getting plentifully
anointed with soup. As I fed my big nestling with corresponding
mouthfuls, I asked him how he felt during the battle.

"Well, 'twas my fust, you see, so I aint ashamed to say I was a
trifle flustered in the beginnin', there was such an allfired
racket; for ef there's anything I do spleen agin, it's noise. But
when my mate, Eph Sylvester, caved, with a bullet through his
head, I got mad, and pitched in, licketty cut. Our part of the
fight didn't last long; so a lot of us larked round
Fredericksburg, and give some of them houses a pretty consid'able
of a rummage, till we was ordered out of the mess. Some of our
fellows cut like time; but I warn't a-goin' to run for nobody;
and, fust thing I knew, a shell bust, right in front of us, and I
keeled over, feelin' as if I was blowed higher'n a kite. I sung
out, and the boys come back for me, double quick; but the way
they chucked me over them fences was a caution, I tell you. Next
day I was most as black as that darkey yonder, lickin' plates on
the sly. This is bully coffee, ain't it? Give us another pull at
it, and I'll be obleeged to you."

I did; and, as the last gulp subsided, he said, with a rub of his
old handkerchief over eyes as well as mouth:

"Look a here; I've got a pair a earbobs and a handkercher pin I'm
a goin' to give you, if you'll have them; for you're the very
moral o' Lizy Sylvester, poor Eph's wife: that's why I signalled
you to come over here. They aint much, I guess, but they'll do to
memorize the rebs by."

Burrowing under his pillow, he produced a little bundle of what
he called "truck," and gallantly presented me with a pair of
earrings, each representing a cluster of corpulent grapes, and
the pin a basket of astonishing fruit, the whole large and
coppery enough for a small warming-pan. Feeling delicate about
depriving him of such valuable relics, I accepted the earrings
alone, and was obliged to depart, somewhat abruptly, when my
friend stuck the warming-pan in the bosom of his night-gown,
viewing it with much complacency, and, perhaps, some tender
memory, in that rough heart of his, for the comrade he had lost.

Observing that the man next him had left his meal untouched, I
offered the same service I had performed for his neighbor, but he
shook his head.

"Thank you, ma'am; I don't think I'll ever eat again, for I'm
shot in the stomach. But I'd like a drink of water, if you aint
too busy."

I rushed away, but the water-pails were gone to be refilled, and
it was some time before they reappeared. I did not forget my
patient patient, meanwhile, and, with the first mugful, hurried
back to him. He seemed asleep; but something in the tired white
face caused me to listen at his lips for a breath. None came. I
touched his forehead; it was cold: and then I knew that, while he
waited, a better nurse than I had given him a cooler draught, and
healed him with a touch. I laid the sheet over the quiet sleeper,
whom no noise could now disturb; and, half an hour later, the bed
was empty. It seemed a poor requital for all he had sacrificed
and suffered,--that hospital bed, lonely even in a crowd; for
there was no familiar face for him to look his last upon; no
friendly voice to say, Good bye; no hand to lead him gently down
into the Valley of the Shadow; and he vanished, like a drop in
that red sea upon whose shores so many women stand lamenting. For
a moment I felt bitterly indignant at this seeming carelessness
of the value of life, the sanctity of death; then consoled myself
with the thought that, when the great muster roll was called,
these nameless men might be promoted above many whose tall
monuments record the barren honors they have won.

All having eaten, drank, and rested, the surgeons began their
rounds; and I took my first lesson in the art of dressing wounds.
It wasn't a festive scene, by any means; for Dr P., whose Aid I
constituted myself, fell to work with a vigor which soon
convinced me that I was a weaker vessel, though nothing would
have induced me to confess it then. He had served in the Crimea,
and seemed to regard a dilapidated body very much as I should
have regarded a damaged garment; and, turning up his cuffs,
whipped out a very unpleasant looking housewife, cutting, sawing,
patching and piecing, with the enthusiasm of an accomplished
surgical seamstress; explaining the process, in scientific terms,
to the patient, meantime; which, of course, was immensely
cheering and comfortable. There was an uncanny sort of
fascination in watching him, as he peered and probed into the
mechanism of those wonderful bodies, whose mysteries he
understood so well. The more intricate the wound, the better he
liked it. A poor private, with both legs off, and shot through
the lungs, possessed more attractions for him than a dozen
generals, slightly scratched in some "masterly retreat;" and had
any one appeared in small pieces, requesting to be put together
again, he would have considered it a special dispensation.

The amputations were reserved till the morrow, and the merciful
magic of ether was not thought necessary that day, so the poor
souls had to bear their pains as best they might. It is all very
well to talk of the patience of woman; and far be it from me to
pluck that feather from her cap, for, heaven knows, she isn't
allowed to wear many; but the patient endurance of these men,
under trials of the flesh, was truly wonderful. Their fortitude
seemed contagious, and scarcely a cry escaped them, though I
often longed to groan for them, when pride kept their white lips
shut, while great drops stood upon their foreheads, and the bed
shook with the irrepressible tremor of their tortured bodies. One
or two Irishmen anathematized the doctors with the frankness of
their nation, and ordered the Virgin to stand by them, as if she
had been the wedded Biddy to whom they could administer the
poker, if she didn't; but, as a general thing, the work went on
in silence, broken only by some quiet request for roller,
instruments, or plaster, a sigh from the patient, or a
sympathizing murmur from the nurse.

It was long past noon before these repairs were even partially
made; and, having got the bodies of my boys into something like
order, the next task was to minister to their minds, by writing
letters to the anxious souls at home; answering questions,
reading papers, taking possession of money and valuables; for the
eighth commandment was reduced to a very fragmentary condition,
both by the blacks and whites, who ornamented our hospital with
their presence. Pocket books, purses, miniatures, and watches,
were sealed up, labelled, and handed over to the matron, till
such times as the owners thereof were ready to depart homeward or
campward again. The letters dictated to me, and revised by me,
that afternoon, would have made an excellent chapter for some
future history of the war; for, like that which Thackeray's
"Ensign Spooney" wrote his mother just before Waterloo, they were
"full of affection, pluck, and bad spelling;" nearly all giving
lively accounts of the battle, and ending with a somewhat sudden
plunge from patriotism to provender, desiring "Marm," "Mary Ann,"
or "Aunt Peters," to send along some pies, pickles, sweet stuff,
and apples, "to yourn in haste," Joe, Sam, or Ned, as the case
might be.

My little Sergeant insisted on trying to scribble something with
his left hand, and patiently accomplished some half dozen lines
of hieroglyphics, which he gave me to fold and direct, with a
boyish blush, that rendered a glimpse of "My Dearest Jane,"
unnecessary, to assure me that the heroic lad had been more
successful in the service of Commander-in-Chief Cupid than that
of Gen. Mars; and a charming little romance blossomed instanter
in Nurse Periwinkle's romantic fancy, though no further
confidences were made that day, for Sergeant fell asleep, and,
judging from his tranquil face, visited his absent sweetheart in
the pleasant land of dreams.

At five o'clock a great bell rang, and the attendants flew, not
to arms, but to their trays, to bring up supper, when a second
uproar announced that it was ready. The new comers woke at the
sound; and I presently discovered that it took a very bad wound
to incapacitate the defenders of the faith for the consumption of
their rations; the amount that some of them sequestered was
amazing; but when I suggested the probability of a famine
hereafter, to the matron, that motherly lady cried out: "Bless
their hearts, why shouldn't they eat? It's their only amusement;
so fill every one, and, if there's not enough ready to-night,
I'll lend my share to the Lord by giving it to the boys." And,
whipping up her coffee-pot and plate of toast, she gladdened the
eyes and stomachs of two or three dissatisfied heroes, by serving
them with a liberal hand; and I haven't the slightest doubt that,
having cast her bread upon the waters, it came back buttered, as
another large-hearted old lady was wont to say.

Then came the doctor's evening visit; the administration of
medicines; washing feverish faces; smoothing tumbled beds;
wetting wounds; singing lullabies; and preparations for the
night. By eleven, the last labor of love was done; the last "good
night" spoken; and, if any needed a reward for that day's work,
they surely received it, in the silent eloquence of those long
lines of faces, showing pale and peaceful in the shaded rooms, as
we quitted them, followed by grateful glances that lighted us to
bed, where rest, the sweetest, made our pillows soft, while Night
and Nature took our places, filling that great house of pain with
the healing miracles of Sleep, and his diviner brother, Death.



CHAPTER IV: A NIGHT.

Being fond of the night side of nature, I was soon promoted to
the post of night nurse, with every facility for indulging in my
favorite pastime of "owling." My colleague, a black-eyed widow,
relieved me at dawn, we two taking care of the ward, between us,
like the immortal Sairy and Betsey, "turn and turn about." I
usually found my boys in the jolliest state of mind their
condition allowed; for it was a known fact that Nurse Periwinkle
objected to blue devils, and entertained a belief that he who
laughed most was surest of recovery. At the beginning of my
reign, dumps and dismals prevailed; the nurses looked anxious and
tired, the men gloomy or sad; and a general "Hark!-from-the-
tombs-a-doleful-sound" style of conversation seemed to be the
fashion: a state of things which caused one coming from a merry,
social New England town, to feel as if she had got into an
exhausted receiver; and the instinct of self-preservation, to say
nothing of a philanthropic desire to serve the race, caused a
speedy change in Ward No. 1.

More flattering than the most gracefully turned compliment, more
grateful than the most admiring glance, was the sight of those
rows of faces, all strange to me a little while ago, now lighting
up, with smiles of welcome, as I came among them, enjoying that
moment heartily, with a womanly pride in their regard, a motherly
affection for them all. The evenings were spent in reading aloud,
writing letters, waiting on and amusing the men, going the rounds
with Dr. P., as he made his second daily survey, dressing my
dozen wounds afresh, giving last doses, and making them cozy for
the long hours to come, till the nine o'clock bell rang, the gas
was turned down, the day nurses went off duty, the night watch
came on, and my nocturnal adventure began.

My ward was now divided into three rooms; and, under favor of the
matron, I had managed to sort out the patients in such a way that
I had what I called, "my duty room," my "pleasure room," and my
"pathetic room," and worked for each in a different way. One, I
visited, armed with a dressing tray, full of rollers, plasters,
and pins; another, with books, flowers, games, and gossip; a
third, with teapots, lullabies, consolation, and sometimes, a
shroud.

Wherever the sickest or most helpless man chanced to be, there I
held my watch, often visiting the other rooms, to see that the
general watchman of the ward did his duty by the fires and the
wounds, the latter needing constant wetting. Not only on this
account did I meander, but also to get fresher air than the close
rooms afforded; for, owing to the stupidity of that mysterious
"somebody" who does all the damage in the world, the windows had
been carefully nailed down above, and the lower sashes could only
be raised in the mildest weather, for the men lay just below. I
had suggested a summary smashing of a few panes here and there,
when frequent appeals to headquarters had proved unavailing, and
daily orders to lazy attendants had come to nothing. No one
seconded the motion, however, and the nails were far beyond my
reach; for, though belonging to the sisterhood of "ministering
angels," I had no wings, and might as well have asked for Jacob's
ladder, as a pair of steps, in that charitable chaos.

One of the harmless ghosts who bore me company during the haunted
hours, was Dan, the watchman, whom I regarded with a certain awe;
for, though so much together, I never fairly saw his face, and,
but for his legs, should never have recognized him, as we seldom
met by day. These legs were remarkable, as was his whole figure,
for his body was short, rotund, and done up in a big jacket, and
muffler; his beard hid the lower part of his face, his hat-brim
the upper; and all I ever discovered was a pair of sleepy eyes,
and a very mild voice. But the legs!--very long, very thin, very
crooked and feeble, looking like grey sausages in their tight
coverings, without a ray of pegtopishness about them, and
finished off with a pair of expansive, green cloth shoes, very
like Chinese junks, with the sails down. This figure, gliding
noiselessly about the dimly lighted rooms, was strongly
suggestive of the spirit of a beer barrel mounted on cork-screws,
haunting the old hotel in search of its lost mates, emptied and
staved in long ago.

Another goblin who frequently appeared to me, was the attendant
of the pathetic room, who, being a faithful soul, was often up to
tend two or three men, weak and wandering as babies, after the
fever had gone. The amiable creature beguiled the watches of the
night by brewing jorums of a fearful beverage, which he called
coffee, and insisted on sharing with me; coming in with a great
bowl of something like mud soup, scalding hot, guiltless of
cream, rich in an all-pervading flavor of molasses, scorch and
tin pot. Such an amount of good will and neighborly kindness also
went into the mess, that I never could find the heart to refuse,
but always received it with thanks, sipped it with hypocritical
relish while he remained, and whipped it into the slop-jar the
instant he departed, thereby gratifying him, securing one rousing
laugh in the doziest hour of the night, and no one was the worse
for the transaction but the pigs. Whether they were "cut off
untimely in their sins," or not, I carefully abstained from
inquiring.

It was a strange life--asleep half the day, exploring Washington
the other half, and all night hovering, like a massive cherubim,
in a red rigolette, over the slumbering sons of man. I liked it,
and found many things to amuse, instruct, and interest me. The
snores alone were quite a study, varying from the mild sniff to
the stentorian snort, which startled the echoes and hoisted the
performer erect to accuse his neighbor of the deed, magnanimously
forgive him, and wrapping the drapery of his couch about him, lie
down to vocal slumber. After listening for a week to this band of
wind instruments, I indulged in the belief that I could recognize
each by the snore alone, and was tempted to join the chorus by
breaking out with John Brown's favorite hymn:

"Blow ye the trumpet, blow!"

I would have given much to have possessed the art of sketching,
for many of the faces became wonderfully interesting when
unconscious. Some grew stern and grim, the men evidently dreaming
of war, as they gave orders, groaned over their wounds, or damned
the rebels vigorously; some grew sad and infinitely pathetic, as
if the pain borne silently all day, revenged itself by now
betraying what the man's pride had concealed so well. Often the
roughest grew young and pleasant when sleep smoothed the hard
lines away, letting the real nature assert itself; many almost
seemed to speak, and I learned to know these men better by night
than through any intercourse by day. Sometimes they disappointed
me, for faces that looked merry and good in the light, grew bad
and sly when the shadows came; and though they made no
confidences in words, I read their lives, leaving them to wonder
at the change of manner this midnight magic wrought in their
nurse. A few talked busily; one drummer boy sang sweetly, though
no persuasions could win a note from him by day; and several
depended on being told what they had talked of in the morning.
Even my constitutionals in the chilly halls, possessed a certain
charm, for the house was never still. Sentinels tramped round it
all night long, their muskets glittering in the wintry moonlight
as they walked, or stood before the doors, straight and silent,
as figures of stone, causing one to conjure up romantic visions
of guarded forts, sudden surprises, and daring deeds; for in
these war times the hum drum life of Yankeedom had vanished, and
the most prosaic feel some thrill of that excitement which stirs
the nation's heart, and makes its capital a camp of hospitals.
Wandering up and down these lower halls, I often heard cries from
above, steps hurrying to and fro, saw surgeons passing up, or men
coming down carrying a stretcher, where lay a long white
figure, whose face was shrouded and whose fight was done.
Sometimes I stopped to watch the passers in the street, the
moonlight shining on the spire opposite, or the gleam of some
vessel floating, like a white-winged sea-gull, down the broad
Potomac, whose fullest flow can never wash away the red stain of
the land.

The night whose events I have a fancy to record, opened with a
little comedy, and closed with a great tragedy; for a virtuous
and useful life untimely ended is always tragical to those who
see not as God sees. My headquarters were beside the bed of a New
Jersey boy, crazed by the horrors of that dreadful Saturday. A
slight wound in the knee brought him there; but his mind had
suffered more than his body; some string of that delicate machine
was over strained, and, for days, he had been reliving in
imagination, the scenes he could not forget, till his distress
broke out in incoherent ravings, pitiful to hear. As I sat by
him, endeavoring to soothe his poor distracted brain by the
constant touch of wet hands over his hot forehead, he lay
cheering his comrades on, hurrying them back, then counting them
as they fell around him, often clutching my arm, to drag me from
the vicinity of a bursting shell, or covering up his head to
screen himself from a shower of shot; his face brilliant with
fever; his eyes restless; his head never still; every muscle
strained and rigid; while an incessant stream of defiant shouts,
whispered warnings, and broken laments, poured from his lips with
that forceful bewilderment which makes such wanderings so hard to
overhear.

It was past eleven, and my patient was slowly wearying himself
into fitful intervals of quietude, when, in one of these pauses,
a curious sound arrested my attention. Looking over my shoulder,
I saw a one-legged phantom hopping nimbly down the room; and,
going to meet it, recognized a certain Pennsylvania gentleman,
whose wound-fever had taken a turn for the worse, and, depriving
him of the few wits a drunken campaign had left him, set him
literally tripping on the light, fantastic toe "toward home," as
he blandly informed me, touching the military cap which formed a
striking contrast to the severe simplicity of the rest of his
decidedly undress uniform. When sane, the least movement produced
a roar of pain or a volley of oaths; but the departure of reason
seemed to have wrought an agreeable change, both in the man and
his manners; for, balancing himself on one leg, like a meditative
stork, he plunged into an animated discussion of the war, the
President, lager beer, and Enfield rifles, regardless of any
suggestions of mine as to the propriety of returning to bed, lest
he be court-martialed for desertion.

Anything more supremely ridiculous can hardly be imagined than
this figure, scantily draped in white, its one foot covered with
a big blue sock, a dingy cap set rakingly askew on its shaven
head, and placid satisfaction beaming in its broad red face, as
it flourished a mug in one hand, an old boot in the other,
calling them canteen and knapsack, while it skipped and fluttered
in the most unearthly fashion. What to do with the creature I
didn't know; Dan was absent, and if I went to find him, the
perambulator might festoon himself out of the window, set his
toga on fire, or do some of his neighbors a mischief. The
attendant of the room was sleeping like a near relative of the
celebrated Seven, and nothing short of pins would rouse him; for
he had been out that day, and whiskey asserted its supremacy in
balmy whiffs. Still declaiming, in a fine flow of eloquence, the
demented gentleman hopped on, blind and deaf to my graspings and
entreaties; and I was about to slam the door in his face, and run
for help, when a second and saner phantom, "all in white," came
to the rescue, in the likeness of a big Prussian, who spoke no
English, but divined the crisis, and put an end to it, by
bundling the lively monoped into his bed, like a baby, with an
authoritative command to "stay put," which received added weight
from being delivered in an odd conglomeration of French and
German, accompanied by warning wags of a head decorated with a
yellow cotton night cap, rendered most imposing by a tassel like
a bell-pull. Rather exhausted by his excursion, the member from
Pennsylvania subsided; and, after an irrepressible laugh
together, my Prussian ally and myself were returning to our
places, when the echo of a sob caused us to glance along the
beds. It came from one in the corner--such a little bed!--and such
a tearful little face looked up at us, as we stopped beside it!
The twelve years old drummer boy was not singing now, but
sobbing, with a manly effort all the while to stifle the
distressful sounds that would break out.

"What is it, Teddy?" I asked, as he rubbed the tears away, and
checked himself in the middle of a great sob to answer
plaintively:

"I've got a chill, ma'am, but I ain't cryin' for that, 'cause I'm
used to it. I dreamed Kit was here, and when I waked up he
wasn't, and I couldn't help it, then."

The boy came in with the rest, and the man who was taken dead
from the ambulance was the Kit he mourned. Well he might; for,
when the wounded were brought from Fredericksburg, the child lay
in one of the camps thereabout, and this good friend, though
sorely hurt himself, would not leave him to the exposure and
neglect of such a time and place; but, wrapping him in his own
blanket, carried him in his arms to the transport, tended him
during the passage, and only yielded up his charge when Death met
him at the door of the hospital which promised care and comfort
for the boy. For ten days, Teddy had shivered or burned with
fever and ague, pining the while for Kit, and refusing to be
comforted, because he had not been able to thank him for the
generous protection, which, perhaps, had cost the giver's life.
The vivid dream had wrung the childish heart with a fresh pang,
and when I tried the solace fitted for his years, the remorseful
fear that haunted him found vent in a fresh burst of tears, as he
looked at the wasted hands I was endeavoring to warm:

"Oh! if I'd only been as thin when Kit carried me as I am now,
maybe he wouldn't have died; but I was heavy, he was hurt worser
than we knew, and so it killed him; and I didn't see him, to say
good bye."

This thought had troubled him in secret; and my assurances that
his friend would probably have died at all events, hardly
assuaged the bitterness of his regretful grief.

At this juncture, the delirious man began to shout; the one-
legged rose up in his bed, as if preparing for another dart,
Teddy bewailed himself more piteously than before: and if ever a
woman was at her wit's end, that distracted female was Nurse
Periwinkle, during the space of two or three minutes, as she
vibrated between the three beds, like an agitated pendulum. Like
a most opportune reinforcement, Dan, the bandy, appeared, and
devoted himself to the lively party, leaving me free to return to
my post; for the Prussian, with a nod and a smile, took the lad
away to his own bed, and lulled him to sleep with a soothing
murmur, like a mammoth humble bee. I liked that in Fritz, and if
he ever wondered afterward at the dainties which sometimes found
their way into his rations, or the extra comforts of his bed, he
might have found a solution of the mystery in sundry persons'
knowledge of the fatherly action of that night.

Hardly was I settled again, when the inevitable bowl appeared,
and its bearer delivered a message I had expected, yet dreaded to
receive:

"John is going, ma'am, and wants to see you, if you can come."

"The moment this boy is asleep; tell him so, and let me know if I
am in danger of being too late."

My Ganymede departed, and while I quieted poor Shaw, I thought of
John. He came in a day or two after the others; and, one evening,
when I entered my "pathetic room," I found a lately emptied bed
occupied by a large, fair man, with a fine face, and the serenest
eyes I ever met. One of the earlier comers had often spoken of a
friend, who had remained behind, that those apparently worse
wounded than himself might reach a shelter first. It seemed a
David and Jonathan sort of friendship. The man fretted for his
mate, and was never tired of praising John--his courage, sobriety,
self-denial, and unfailing kindliness of heart; always winding up
with: "He's an out an' out fine feller, ma'am; you see if he
aint."

I had some curiosity to behold this piece of excellence, and when
he came, watched him for a night or two, before I made friends
with him; for, to tell the truth, I was a little afraid of the
stately looking man, whose bed had to be lengthened to
accommodate his commanding stature; who seldom spoke, uttered no
complaint, asked no sympathy, but tranquilly observed what went
on about him; and, as he lay high upon his pillows, no picture of
dying stateman or warrior was ever fuller of real dignity than
this Virginia blacksmith. A most attractive face he had, framed
in brown hair and beard, comely featured and full of vigor, as
yet unsubdued by pain; thoughtful and often beautifully mild
while watching the afflictions of others, as if entirely
forgetful of his own. His mouth was grave and firm, with plenty of
will and courage in its lines, but a smile could make it as sweet
as any woman's; and his eyes were child's eyes, looking one
fairly in the face, with a clear, straightforward glance, which
promised well for such as placed their faith in him. He seemed to
cling to life, as if it were rich in duties and delights, and he
had learned the secret of content. The only time I saw his
composure disturbed, was when my surgeon brought another to
examine John, who scrutinized their faces with an anxious look,
asking of the elder: "Do you think I shall pull through, sir?" "I
hope so, my man." And, as the two passed on, John's eye still
followed them, with an intentness which would have won a clearer
answer from them, had they seen it. A momentary shadow flitted
over his face; then came the usual serenity, as if, in that brief
eclipse, he had acknowledged the existence of some hard
possibility, and, asking nothing yet hoping all things, left the
issue in God's hands, with that submission which is true piety.

The next night, as I went my rounds with Dr. P., I happened to
ask which man in the room probably suffered most; and, to my
great surprise, he glanced at John:

"Every breath he draws is like a stab; for the ball pierced the
left lung, broke a rib, and did no end of damage here and there;
so the poor lad can find neither forgetfulness nor ease, because
he must lie on his wounded back or suffocate. It will be a hard
struggle, and a long one, for he possesses great vitality; but
even his temperate life can't save him; I wish it could."

"You don't mean he must die, Doctor?"

"Bless you there's not the slightest hope for him; and you'd
better tell him so before long; women have a way of doing such
things comfortably, so I leave it to you. He won't last more than
a day or two, at furthest."

I could have sat down on the spot and cried heartily, if I had
not learned the wisdom of bottling up one's tears for leisure
moments. Such an end seemed very hard for such a man, when half a
dozen worn out, worthless bodies round him, were gathering up the
remnants of wasted lives, to linger on for years perhaps, burdens
to others, daily reproaches to themselves. The army needed men
like John, earnest, brave, and faithful; fighting for liberty and
justice with both heart and hand, true soldiers of the Lord. I
could not give him up so soon, or think with any patience of so
excellent a nature robbed of its fulfillment, and blundered into
eternity by the rashness or stupidity of those at whose hands so
many lives may be required. It was an easy thing for Dr. P. to
say: "Tell him he must die," but a cruelly hard thing to do, and
by no means as "comfortable" as he politely suggested. I had not
the heart to do it then, and privately indulged the hope that
some change for the better might take place, in spite of gloomy
prophesies; so, rendering my task unnecessary. A few minutes
later, as I came in again, with fresh rollers, I saw John sitting
erect, with no one to support him, while the surgeon dressed his
back. I had never hitherto seen it done; for, having simpler
wounds to attend to, and knowing the fidelity of the attendant, I
had left John to him, thinking it might be more agreeable and
safe; for both strength and experience were needed in his case. I
had forgotten that the strong man might long for the gentle
tendance of a woman's hands, the sympathetic magnetism of a
woman's presence, as well as the feebler souls about him. The
Doctor's words caused me to reproach myself with neglect, not of
any real duty perhaps, but of those little cares and kindnesses
that solace homesick spirits, and make the heavy hours pass
easier. John looked lonely and forsaken just then, as he sat with
bent head, hands folded on his knee, and no outward sign of
suffering, till, looking nearer, I saw great tears roll down and
drop upon the floor. It was a new sight there; for, though I had
seen many suffer, some swore, some groaned, most endured
silently, but none wept. Yet it did not seem weak, only very
touching, and straightway my fear vanished, my heart opened wide
and took him in, as, gathering the bent head in my arms, as
freely as if he had been a little child, I said, "Let me help you
bear it, John."

Never, on any human countenance, have I seen so swift and
beautiful a look of gratitude, surprise and comfort, as that
which answered me more eloquently than the whispered--

"Thank you, ma'am, this is right good! this is what I wanted!"

"Then why not ask for it before?"

"I didn't like to be a trouble; you seemed so busy, and I could
manage to get on alone."

"You shall not want it any more, John."

Nor did he; for now I understood the wistful look that sometimes
followed me, as I went out, after a brief pause beside his bed,
or merely a passing nod, while busied with those who seemed to
need me more than he, because more urgent in their demands; now I
knew that to him, as to so many, I was the poor substitute for
mother, wife, or sister, and in his eyes no stranger, but a
friend who hitherto had seemed neglectful; for, in his modesty,
he had never guessed the truth. This was changed now; and,
through the tedious operation of probing, bathing, and dressing
his wounds, he leaned against me, holding my hand fast, and, if
pain wrung further tears from him, no one saw them fall but me.
When he was laid down again, I hovered about him, in a remorseful
state of mind that would not let me rest, till I had bathed his
face, brushed his "bonny brown hair," set all things smooth about
him, and laid a knot of heath and heliotrope on his clean pillow.
While doing this, he watched me with the satisfied expression I
so liked to see; and when I offered the little nosegay, held it
carefully in his great hand, smoothed a ruffled leaf or two,
surveyed and smelt it with an air of genuine delight, and lay
contentedly regarding the glimmer of the sunshine on the green.
Although the manliest man among my forty, he said, "Yes, ma'am,"
like a little boy; received suggestions for his comfort with the
quick smile that brightened his whole face; and now and then, as
I stood tidying the table by his bed, I felt him softly touch my
gown, as if to assure himself that I was there. Anything more
natural and frank I never saw, and found this brave John as
bashful as brave, yet full of excellencies and fine aspirations,
which, having no power to express themselves in words, seemed to
have bloomed into his character and made him what he was.

After that night, an hour of each evening that remained to him
was devoted to his ease or pleasure. He could not talk much, for
breath was precious, and he spoke in whispers; but from
occasional conversations, I gleaned scraps of private history
which only added to the affection and respect I felt for him.
Once he asked me to write a letter, and as I settled pen and
paper, I said, with an irrepressible glimmer of feminine
curiosity, "Shall it be addressed to wife, or mother, John?"

"Neither, ma'am; I've got no wife, and will write to mother
myself when I get better. Did you think I was married because of
this?" he asked, touching a plain ring he wore, and often turned
thoughtfully on his finger when he lay alone.

"Partly that, but more from a settled sort of look you have; a
look which young men seldom get until they marry."

"I didn't know that; but I'm not so very young, ma'am, thirty in
May, and have been what you might call settled this ten years;
for mother's a widow, I'm the oldest child she has, and it
wouldn't do for me to marry until Lizzy has a home of her own,
and Laurie's learned his trade; for we're not rich, and I must be
father to the children and husband to the dear old woman, if I
can."

"No doubt but you are both, John; yet how came you to go to war,
if you felt so? Wasn't enlisting as bad as marrying?"

"No, ma'am, not as I see it, for one is helping my neighbor, the
other pleasing myself. I went because I couldn't help it. I
didn't want the glory or the pay; I wanted the right thing done,
and people kept saying the men who were in earnest ought to
fight. I was in earnest, the Lord knows! but I held off as long
as I could, not knowing which was my duty; mother saw the case,
gave me her ring to keep me steady, and said 'Go:' so I went."

A short story and a simple one, but the man and the mother were
portrayed better than pages of fine writing could have done it.

"Do you ever regret that you came, when you lie here suffering so
much?"

"Never, ma'am; I haven't helped a great deal, but I've shown I
was willing to give my life, and perhaps I've got to; but I don't
blame anybody, and if it was to do over again, I'd do it. I'm a
little sorry I wasn't wounded in front; it looks cowardly to be
hit in the back, but I obeyed orders, and it don't matter in the
end, I know."

Poor John! it did not matter now, except that a shot in the front
might have spared the long agony in store for him. He seemed to
read the thought that troubled me, as he spoke so hopefully when
there was no hope, for he suddenly added:

"This is my first battle; do they think it's going to be my
last?"

"I'm afraid they do, John."

It was the hardest question I had ever been called upon to
answer; doubly hard with those clear eyes fixed on mine, forcing
a truthful answer by their own truth. He seemed a little startled
at first, pondered over the fateful fact a moment, then shook his
head, with a glance at the broad chest and muscular limbs
stretched out before him:

"I'm not afraid, but it's difficult to believe all at once. I'm
so strong it don't seem possible for such a little wound to kill
me."

Merry Mercutio's dying words glanced through my memory as he
spoke: "'Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door,
but 'tis enough." And John would have said the same could he have
seen the ominous black holes between his shoulders; he never had;
and, seeing the ghastly sights about him, could not believe his
own wound more fatal than these, for all the suffering it caused
him.

"Shall I write to your mother, now?" I asked, thinking that these
sudden tidings might change all plans and purposes; but they did
not; for the man received the order of the Divine Commander to
march with the same unquestioning obedience with which the
soldier had received that of the human one; doubtless remembering
that the first led him to life, and the last to death.

"No, ma'am; to Laurie just the same; he'll break it to her best,
and I'll add a line to her myself when you get done."

So I wrote the letter which he dictated, finding it better than
any I had sent; for, though here and there a little ungrammatical
or inelegant, each sentence came to me briefly worded, but most
expressive; full of excellent counsel to the boy, tenderly
bequeathing "mother and Lizzie" to his care, and bidding him good
bye in words the sadder for their simplicity. He added a few
lines, with steady hand, and, as I sealed it, said, with a
patient sort of sigh, "I hope the answer will come in time for me
to see it;" then, turning away his face, laid the flowers against
his lips, as if to hide some quiver of emotion at the thought of
such a sudden sundering of all the dear home ties.

These things had happened two days before; now John was dying,
and the letter had not come. I had been summoned to many death
beds in my life, but to none that made my heart ache as it did
then, since my mother called me to watch the departure of a
spirit akin to this in its gentleness and patient strength. As I
went in, John stretched out both hands:

"I know you'd come! I guess I'm moving on, ma'am."

He was; and so rapidly that, even while he spoke, over his face I
saw the grey veil falling that no human hand can lift. I sat down
by him, wiped the drops from his forehead, stirred the air about
him with the slow wave of a fan, and waited to help him die. He
stood in sore need of help--and I could do so little; for, as the
doctor had foretold, the strong body rebelled against death, and
fought every inch of the way, forcing him to draw each breath
with a spasm, and clench his hands with an imploring look, as if
he asked, "How long must I endure this, and be still!" For hours
he suffered dumbly, without a moment's respire, or a moment's
murmuring; his limbs grew cold, his face damp, his lips white,
and, again and again, he tore the covering off his breast, as if
the lightest weight added to his agony; yet through it all, his
eyes never lost their perfect serenity, and the man's soul seemed
to sit therein, undaunted by the ills that vexed his flesh.

One by one, the men woke, and round the room appeared a circle of
pale faces and watchful eyes, full of awe and pity; for, though a
stranger, John was beloved by all. Each man there had wondered at
his patience, respected his piety, admired his fortitude, and now
lamented his hard death; for the influence of an upright nature
had made itself deeply felt, even in one little week. Presently,
the Jonathan who so loved this comely David, came creeping from
his bed for a last look and word. The kind soul was full of
trouble, as the choke in his voice, the grasp of his hand,
betrayed; but there were no tears, and the farewell of the
friends was the more touching for its brevity.

"Old boy, how are you?" faltered the one.

"Most through, thank heaven!" whispered the other.

"Can I say or do anything for you anywheres?"

"Take my things home, and tell them that I did my best."

"I will! I will!"

"Good bye, Ned."

"Good bye, John, good bye!"

They kissed each other, tenderly as women, and so parted, for
poor Ned could not stay to see his comrade die. For a little
while, there was no sound in the room but the drip of water, from
a stump or two, and John's distressful gasps, as he slowly
breathed his life away. I thought him nearly gone, and had just
laid down the fan, believing its help to be no longer needed,
when suddenly he rose up in his bed, and cried out with a bitter
cry that broke the silence, sharply startling every one with its
agonized appeal:

"For God's sake, give me air!"

It was the only cry pain or death had wrung from him, the only
boon he had asked; and none of us could grant it, for all the
airs that blew were useless now. Dan flung up the window. The
first red streak of dawn was warming the grey east, a herald of
the coming sun; John saw it, and with the love of light which
lingers in us to the end, seemed to read in it a sign of hope of
help, for, over his whole face there broke that mysterious
expression, brighter than any smile, which often comes to eyes
that look their last. He laid himself gently down; and,
stretching out his strong right arm, as if to grasp and bring the
blessed air to his lips in a fuller flow, lapsed into a merciful
unconsciousness, which assured us that for him suffering was
forever past. He died then; for, though the heavy breaths still
tore their way up for a little longer, they were but the waves of
an ebbing tide that beat unfelt against the wreck, which an
immortal voyager had deserted with a smile. He never spoke again,
but to the end held my hand close, so close that when he was
asleep at last, I could not draw it away. Dan helped me, warning
me as he did so that it was unsafe for dead and living flesh to
lie so long together; but though my hand was strangely cold and
stiff, and four white marks remained across its back, even when
warmth and color had returned elsewhere, I could not but be glad
that, through its touch, the presence of human sympathy, perhaps,
had lightened that hard hour.

When they had made him ready for the grave, John lay in state for
half an hour, a thing which seldom happened in that busy place;
but a universal sentiment of reverence and affection seemed to
fill the hearts of all who had known or heard of him; and when
the rumor of his death went through the house, always astir, many
came to see him, and I felt a tender sort of pride in my lost
patient; for he looked a most heroic figure, lying there stately
and still as the statue of some young knight asleep upon his
tomb. The lovely expression which so often beautifies dead faces,
soon replaced the marks of pain, and I longed for those who loved
him best to see him when half an hour's acquaintance with Death
had made them friends. As we stood looking at him, the ward
master handed me a letter, saying it had been forgotten the night
before. It was John's letter, come just an hour too late to
gladden the eyes that had longed and looked for it so eagerly!
yet he had it; for, after I had cut some brown locks for his
mother, and taken off the ring to send her, telling how well the
talisman had done its work, I kissed this good son for her sake,
and laid the letter in his hand, still folded as when I drew my
own away, feeling that its place was there, and making myself
happy with the thought, that, even in his solitary place in the
"Government Lot," he would not be without some token of the love
which makes life beautiful and outlives death. Then I left him,
glad to have known so genuine a man, and carrying with me an
enduring memory of the brave Virginia blacksmith, as he lay
serenely waiting for the dawn of that long day which knows no
night.



CHAPTER V: OFF DUTY.

"My dear girl, we shall have you sick in your bed, unless you
keep yourself warm and quiet for a few days. Widow Wadman can
take care of the ward alone, now the men are so comfortable, and
have her vacation when you are about again. Now do be prudent in
time, and don't let me have to add a Periwinkle to my bouquet of
patients."

This advice was delivered, in a paternal manner, by the youngest
surgeon in the hospital, a kind-hearted little gentleman, who
seemed to consider me a frail young blossom, that needed much
cherishing, instead of a tough old spinster, who had been
knocking about the world for thirty years. At the time I write
of, he discovered me sitting on the stairs, with a nice cloud of
unwholesome steam rising from the washroom; a party of January
breezes disporting themselves in the halls; and perfumes, by no
means from "Araby the blest," keeping them company; while I
enjoyed a fit of coughing, which caused my head to spin in a way
that made the application of a cool banister both necessary and
agreeable, as I waited for the frolicsome wind to restore the
breath I'd lost; cheering myself, meantime, with a secret
conviction that pneumonia was waiting for me round the corner.
This piece of advice had been offered by several persons for a
week, and refused by me with the obstinacy with which my sex is
so richly gifted. But the last few hours had developed several
surprising internal and external phenomena, which impressed upon
me the fact that if I didn't make a masterly retreat very soon, I
should tumble down somewhere, and have to be borne ignominiously
from the field. My head felt like a cannon ball; my feet had a
tendency to cleave to the floor; the walls at times undulated in
a most disagreeable manner; people looked unnaturally big; and
the "very bottles on the mankle shelf" appeared to dance
derisively before my eyes. Taking these things into
consideration. while blinking stupidly at Dr. Z., I resolved to
retire gracefully, if I must; so, with a valedictory to my boys,
a private lecture to Mrs. Wadman, and a fervent wish that I could
take off my body and work in my soul, I mournfully ascended to my
apartment, and Nurse P was reported off duty.

For the benefit of any ardent damsel whose patriotic fancy may
have surrounded hospital life with a halo of charms, I will
briefly describe the bower to which I retired, in a somewhat
ruinous condition. It was well ventilated, for five panes of
glass had suffered compound fractures, which all the surgeons and
nurses had failed to heal; the two windows were draped with
sheets, the church hospital opposite being a brick and mortar
Argus, and the female mind cherishing a prejudice in favor of
retiracy during the night-capped periods of existence. A bare
floor supported two narrow iron beds, spread with thin mattresses
like plasters, furnished with pillows in the last stages of
consumption. In a fire place, guiltless of shovel, tongs,
andirons, or grate, burned a log inch by inch, being too long to
to go on all at once; so, while the fire blazed away at one end,
I did the same at the other, as I tripped over it a dozen times a
day, and flew up to poke it a dozen times at night. A mirror (let
us be elegant !) of the dimensions of a muffin, and about as
reflective, hung over a tin basin, blue pitcher, and a brace of
yellow mugs. Two invalid tables, ditto chairs, wandered here and
there, and the closet contained a varied collection of bonnets,
bottles, bags, boots, bread and butter, boxes and bugs. The
closet was a regular Blue Beard cupboard to me; I always opened
it with fear and trembling, owing to rats, and shut it in anguish
of spirit; for time and space were not to be had, and chaos
reigned along with the rats. Our chimney-piece was decorated with
a flat-iron, a Bible, a candle minus stick, a lavender bottle, a
new tin pan, so brilliant that it served nicely for a pier-glass,
and such of the portly black bugs as preferred a warmer climate
than the rubbish hole afforded. Two arks, commonly called trunks,
lurked behind the door, containing the worldly goods of the twain
who laughed and cried, slept and scrambled, in this refuge; while
from the white-washed walls above either bed, looked down the
pictured faces of those whose memory can make for us--

"One little room an everywhere."

For a day or two I managed to appear at meals; for the human grub
must eat till the butterfly is ready to break loose, and no one
had time to come up two flights while it was possible for me to
come down. Far be it from me to add another affliction or
reproach to that enduring man, the steward; for, compared with
his predecessor, he was a horn of plenty; but--I put it to any
candid mind--is not the following bill of fare susceptible of
improvement, without plunging the nation madly into debt? The
three meals were "pretty much of a muchness," and consisted of
beef, evidently put down for the men of '76; pork, just in from
the street; army bread, composed of saw-dust and saleratus;
butter, salt as if churned by Lot's wife; stewed blackberries, so
much like preserved cockroaches, that only those devoid of
imagination could partake thereof with relish; coffee, mild and
muddy; tea, three dried huckleberry leaves to a quart of
water--flavored with lime--also animated and unconscious of any
approach to clearness. Variety being the spice of life, a small
pinch of the article would have been appreciated by the hungry,
hard-working sisterhood, one of whom, though accustomed to plain
fare, soon found herself reduced to bread and water; having an
inborn repugnance to the fat of the land, and the salt of the
earth.

Another peculiarity of these hospital meals was the rapidity with
which the edibles vanished, and the impossibility of getting a
drop or crumb after the usual time. At the first ring of the
bell, a general stampede took place; some twenty hungry souls
rushed to the dining-room, swept over the table like a swarm of
locusts, and left no fragment for any tardy creature who arrived
fifteen minutes late. Thinking it of more importance that the
patients should be well and comfortably fed, I took my time about
my own meals for the first day or two after I came, but was
speedily enlightened by Isaac, the black waiter, who bore with me
a few times, and then informed me, looking as stern as fate:

"I say, mam, ef you comes so late you can't have no
vittles,--'cause I'm 'bleeged fer ter git things ready fer de
doctors 'mazin' spry arter you nusses and folks is done. De
gen'lemen don't kere fer ter wait, no more does I; so you jes'
please ter come at de time, and dere won't be no frettin'
nowheres."

It was a new sensation to stand looking at a full table,
painfully conscious of one of the vacuums which Nature abhors,
and receive orders to right about face, without partaking of the
nourishment which your inner woman clamorously demanded. The
doctors always fared better than we; and for a moment a desperate
impulse prompted me to give them a hint, by walking off with the
mutton, or confiscating the pie. But Ike's eye was on me, and, to
my shame be it spoken, I walked meekly away; went dinnerless that
day, and that evening went to market, laying in a small stock of
crackers, cheese and apples, that my boys might not be neglected,
nor myself obliged to bolt solid and liquid dyspepsias, or
starve. This plan would have succeeded admirably had not the evil
star under which I was born, been in the ascendant during that
month, and cast its malign influences even into my " 'umble "
larder; for the rats had their dessert off my cheese, the bugs
set up housekeeping in my cracker bag, and the apples like all
worldly riches, took to themselves wings and flew away; whither
no man could tell, though certain black imps might have thrown
light upon the matter, had not the plaintiff in the case been
loth to add another to the many trials of long-suffering.
Africa. After this failure I resigned myself to fate, and,
remembering that bread was called the staff of life, leaned
pretty exclusively upon it; but it proved a broken reed, and I
came to the ground after a few weeks of prison fare, varied by an
occasional potato or surreptitious sip of milk.

Very soon after leaving the care of my ward, I discovered that I
had no appetite, and cut the bread and butter interests almost
entirely, trying the exercise and sun cure instead. Flattering
myself that I had plenty of time, and could see all that was to
be seen, so far as a lone lorn female could venture in a city,
one-half of whose male population seemed to be taking the other
half to the guard-house,--every morning I took a brisk run in one
direction or another; for the January days were as mild as
Spring. A rollicking north wind and occasional snow storm would
have been more to my taste, for the one would have braced and
refreshed tired body and soul, the other have purified the air,
and spread a clean coverlid over the bed, wherein the capital of
these United States appeared to be dozing pretty soundly just
then.

One of these trips was to the Armory Hospital, the neatness,
comfort, and convenience of which makes it an honor to its
presiding genius, and arouses all the covetous propensities of
such nurses as came from other hospitals to visit it.

The long, clean, warm, and airy wards, built barrack-fashion,
with the nurse's room at the end, were fully appreciated by Nurse
Periwinkle, whose ward and private bower were cold, dirty,
inconvenient, up stairs and down stairs, and in every body's
chamber. At the Armory, in ward K, I found a cheery, bright-eyed,
white-aproned little lady, reading at her post near the stove;
matting under her feet; a draft of fresh air flowing in above her
head; a table full of trays, glasses, and such matters, on one
side, a large, well-stocked medicine chest on the other; and all
her duty seemed to be going about now and then to give doses,
issue orders, which well-trained attendants executed, and pet,
advise, or comfort Tom, Dick, or Harry, as she found best. As I
watched the proceedings, I recalled my own tribulations, and
contrasted the two hospitals in a way that would have caused my
summary dismissal, could it have been reported at headquarters.
Here, order, method, common sense and liberality reigned and
ruled, in a style that did one's heart good to see; at the Hurly
burly Hotel, disorder, discomfort, bad management, and no visible
head, reduced things to a condition which I despair of
describing. The circumlocution fashion prevailed, forms and
fusses tormented our souls, and unnecessary strictness in one
place was counterbalanced by unpardonable laxity in another. Here
is a sample: I am dressing Sam Dammer's shoulder; and, having
cleansed the wound, look about for some strips of adhesive
plaster to hold on the little square of wet linen which is to
cover the gunshot wound; the case is not in the tray; Frank, the
sleepy, half-sick attendant, knows nothing of it; we rummage high
and low; Sam is tired, and fumes; Frank dawdles and yawns; the
men advise and laugh at the flurry; I feel like a boiling tea-
kettle, with the lid ready to fly off and damage somebody.

"Go and borrow some from the next ward, and spend the rest of the
day in finding ours," I finally command. A pause; then Frank
scuffles back with the message: "Miss Peppercorn ain't got none,
and says you ain't no business to lose your own duds and go
borrowin' other folkses;." I say nothing, for fear of saying too
much, but fly to the surgery. Mr. Toddypestle informs me that I
can't have anything without an order from the surgeon of my ward.
Great heavens! where is he? and away I rush, up and down, here
and there, till at last I find him, in a state of bliss over a
complicated amputation, in the fourth story. I make my demand; be
answers: "In five minutes," and works away, with his head upside
down, as he ties an artery, saws a bone, or does a little needle-
work, with a visible relish and very sanguinary pair of hands.
The five minutes grow to fifteen, and Frank appears, with the
remark that, "Dammer wants to know what in thunder you are
keeping him there with his finger on a wet rag for?" Dr. P. tears
himself away long enough to scribble the order, with which I
plunge downward to the surgery again, find the door locked, and,
while hammering away on it, am told that two friends are waiting
to see me in the hall. The matron being away, her parlor is
locked, and there is nowhere to see my guests but in my own room,
and no time to enjoy them till the plaster is found. I settle
this matter, and circulate through the house to find Toddypestle,
who has no right, to leave the surgery till night. He is
discovered in the dead house, smoking a cigar; and very much the
worse for his researches among the spirituous preparations that
fill the surgery shelves. He is inclined to be gallant, and puts
the finishing blow to the fire of my wrath; for the tea-kettle
lid flies off, and driving him before me to his post, I fling
down the order, take what I choose; and, leaving the absurd
incapable kissing his hand to me, depart, feeling, as Grandma
Riglesty is reported to have done, when she vainly sought for
chips, in Bimleck Jackwood's "shifless paster."

I find Dammer a well acted charade of his own name, and, just as
I get him done, struggling the while with a burning desire to
clap an adhesive strip across his mouth, full of heaven-defying
oaths, Frank takes up his boot to put it on, and exclaims:

"I'm blest ef here ain't that case now! I recollect seeing it
pitch in this mornin', but forgot all about it, till my heel went
smash inter it. Here, ma'am, ketch hold on it, and give the boys
a sheet on't all round, 'gainst it tumbles inter t'other boot
next time yer want it."

If a look could annihilate, Francis Saucebox would have ceased to
exist; but it couldn't; therefore, he yet lives, to aggravate
some unhappy woman's soul, and wax fat in some equally congenial
situation.

Now, while I'm freeing my mind, I should like to enter my protest
against employing convalescents as attendants, instead of strong,
properly trained, and cheerful men. How it may be in other places
I cannot say; but here it was a source of constant trouble and
confusion, these feeble, ignorant men trying to sweep, scrub,
lift, and wait upon their sicker comrades. One, with a diseased
heart, was expected to run up and down stairs, carry heavy trays,
and move helpless men; he tried it, and grew rapidly worse than
when he first came: and, when he was ordered out to march away to
the convalescent hospital, fell, in a sort of fit, before he
turned the corner, and was brought back to die. Another, hurt by
a fall from his horse, endeavored to do his duty, but failed
entirely, and the wrath of the ward master fell upon the nurse,
who must either scrub the rooms herself, or take the lecture; for
the boy looked stout and well, and the master never happened to
see him turn white with pain, or hear him groan in his sleep when
an involuntary. motion strained his poor back. Constant
complaints were being made of incompetent attendants, and some
dozen women did double duty, and then were blamed for breaking
down. If any hospital director fancies this a good and economical
arrangement, allow one used up nurse to tell him it isn't, and
beg him to spare the sisterhood, who sometimes, in their
sympathy, forget that they are mortal, and run the risk of being
made immortal, sooner than is agreeable to their partial friends.

Another of my few rambles took me to the Senate Chamber, hoping
to hear and see if this large machine was run any better than
some small ones I knew of. I was too late, and found the
Speaker's chair occupied by a colored gentleman of ten; while two
others were "on their legs," having a hot debate on the cornball
question, as they gathered the waste paper strewn about the floor
into bags; and several white members played leap-frog over the
desks, a much wholesomer relaxation than some of the older
Senators indulge in, I fancy. Finding the coast clear, I likewise
gambolled up and down, from gallery to gallery; sat in Sumner's
chair. and cudgelled an imaginary Brooks within an inch of his
life; examined Wilson's books in the coolest possible manner;
warmed my feet at one of the national registers; read people's
names on scattered envelopes, and pocketed a castaway autograph
or two; watched the somewhat unparliamentary proceedings going on
about me, and wondered who in the world all the sedate gentlemen
were, who kept popping out of odd doors here and there, like
respectable Jacks-in-the-box. Then I wandered over the "palatial
residence" of Mrs. Columbia, and examined its many beauties,
though I can't say I thought her a tidy housekeeper, and didn't
admire her taste in pictures, for the eye of this humble
individual soon wearied of expiring patriots, who all appeared to
be quitting their earthly tabernacles in convulsions, ruffled
shirts, and a whirl of torn banners, bomb shells, and buff and
blue arms and legs. The statuary also was massive and concrete,
but rather wearying to examine; for the colossal ladies and
gentlemen, carried no cards of introduction in face or figure;
so, whether the meditative party in a kilt, with well-developed
legs, shoes like army slippers, and a ponderous nose, was
Columbus, Cato, or Cockelorum Tibby, the tragedian, was more than
I could tell. Several robust ladies attracted me; but which was
America and which Pocahontas was a mystery; for all affected much
looseness of costume, dishevelment of hair, swords, arrows,
lances, scales, and other ornaments quite passe with damsels of
our day, whose effigies should go down to posterity armed with
fans, crochet needles, riding whips, and parasols, with here and
there one holding pen or pencil, rolling-pin or broom. The statue
of Liberty I recognized at once, for it had no pedestal as yet,
but stood flat in the mud, with Young America most symbollically
making dirt pies, and chip forts, in its shadow. But high above
the squabbling little throng and their petty plans, the sun shone
full on Liberty's broad forehead, and, in her hand, some summer
bird had built its nest. I accepted the good omen then, and, on
the first of January, the Emancipation Act gave the statue a
nobler and more enduring pedestal than any marble or granite ever
carved and quarried by human bands.

One trip to Georgetown Heights, where cedars sighed overhead,
dead leaves rustled underfoot, pleasant paths led up and down,
and a brook wound like a silver snake by the blackened ruins of
some French Minister's house, through the poor gardens of the
black washerwomen who congregated there, and, passing the
cemetery with a murmurous lullaby, rolled away to pay its little
tribute to the river. This breezy run was the last I took; for,
on the morrow, came rain and wind: and confinement soon proved a
powerful reinforcement to the enemy, who was quietly preparing to
spring a mine, and blow me five hundred miles from the position I
had taken in what I called my Chickahominy Swamp.

Shut up in my room, with no voice, spirits, or books, that week
was not a holiday, by any means. Finding meals a humbug, I
stopped away altogether, trusting that if this sparrow was of any
worth, the Lord would not let it fall to the ground. Like a flock
of friendly ravens, my sister nurses fed me, not only with food
for the body, but kind words for the mind; and soon, from being
half starved, I found myself so beteaed and betoasted, petted and
served, that I was quite "in the lap of luxury," in spite of
cough, headache, a painful consciousness of my pleura, and a
realizing sense of bones in the human frame. From the pleasant
house on the hill, the home in the heart of Washington, and the
Willard caravansary, came friends new and old, with bottles,
baskets, carriages and invitations for the invalid; and daily our
Florence Nightingale climbed the steep stairs, stealing a moment
from her busy life, to watch over the stranger, of whom she was
as thoughtfully tender as any mother. Long may she wave! Whatever
others may think or say, Nurse Periwinkle is forever grateful;
and among her relics of that Washington defeat, none is more
valued than the little book which appeared on her pillow, one
dreary day; for the D D. written in it means to her far more than
Doctor of Divinity.

Being forbidden to meddle with fleshly arms and legs, I solaced
myself by mending cotton ones, and, as I sat sewing at my window,
watched the moving panorama that passed below; amusing myself
with taking notes of the most striking figures in it. Long trains
of army wagons kept up a perpetual rumble from morning till
night; ambulances rattled to and fro with busy surgeons, nurses
taking an airing, or convalescents going in parties to be fitted
to artificial limbs. Strings of sorry looking horses passed,
saying as plainly as dumb creatures could, "Why, in a city full
of them, is there no horsepital for us?" Often a cart came by,
with several rough coffins in it and no mourners following;
baroucbes, with invalid officers, rolled round the corner, and
carriage loads of pretty children, with black coachmen, footmen,
and maids. The women who took their walks abroad, were so
extinguished in three story bonnets, with overhanging balconies of
flowers, that their charms were obscured; and all I can say of
them is that they dressed in the worst possible taste, and walked
like ducks.

The men did the picturesque, and did it so well that Washington
looked like a mammoth masquerade. Spanish hats, scarlet lined
riding cloaks, swords and sashes, high boots and bright spurs,
beards and mustaches, which made plain faces comely, and comely
faces heroic; these vanities of the flesh transformed our
butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers into gallant riders of
gaily caparisoned horses, much handsomer than themselves; and
dozens of such figures were constantly prancing by, with private
prickings of spurs, for the benefit of the perambulating flower-
bed. Some of these gentlemen affected painfully tight uniforms,
and little caps, kept on by some new law of gravitation, as they
covered only the bridge of the nose, yet never fell off; the men
looked like stuffed fowls, and rode as if the safety of the
nation depended on their speed alone. The fattest, greyest
officers dressed most, and ambled statelily along, with orderlies
behind, trying to look as if they didn't know the stout party in
front, and doing much caracoling on their own account.

The mules were my especial delight; and an hour's study of a
constant succession of them introduced me to many of their
characteristics; for six of these odd little beasts drew each
army wagon, and went hopping like frogs through the stream of mud
that gently rolled along the street. The coquettish mule had
small feet, a nicely trimmed tassel of a tail, perked up ears,
and seemed much given to little tosses of the head, affected
skips and prances; and, if he wore the bells, or were bedizzened
with a bit of finery, put on as many airs as any belle. The moral
mule was a stout, hard-working creature, always tugging with all
his might; often pulling away after the rest had stopped,
laboring under the conscientious delusion that food for the
entire army depended upon his private exertions. I respected this
style of mule; and had I possessed a juicy cabbage, would have
pressed it upon him, with thanks for his excellent example. The
historical mule was a melo-dramatic quadruped, prone to startling
humanity by erratic leaps, and wild plunges, much shaking of his
stubborn head, and lashing out of his vicious heels; now and then
falling flat and apparently dying a la Forrest: a gasp--a
squirm--a flop, and so on, till the street was well blocked up,
the drivers all swearing like demons in bad hats, and the chief
actor's circulation decidedly quickened by every variety of kick,
cuff jerk, and haul. When the last breath seemed to have left his
body, and "Doctors were in vain," a sudden resurrection took
place; and if ever a mule laughed with scornful triumph, that was
the beast, as he leisurely rose, gave a comfortable shake, and
calmly regarding the excited crowd seemed to say--"A hit! a
decided hit! for the stupidest of animals has bamboozled a dozen
men. Now, then! what are you stopping the way for?" The pathetic
mule was, perhaps, the most interesting of all; for, though he
always seemed to be the smallest, thinnest, weakest of the six,
the postillion, with big boots, long-tailed coat, and heavy whip,
was sure to bestride this one, who struggled feebly along, head
down, coat muddy and rough, eye spiritless and sad, his very tail
a mortified stump, and the whole beast a picture of meek misery,
fit to touch a heart of stone. The jovial mule was a roly poly,
happy-go-lucky little piece of horse-flesh, taking everything
easily, from cudgeling to caressing; strolling along with a
roguish twinkle of the eye, and, if the thing were possible,
would have had his hands in his pockets, and whistled as he went.
If there ever chanced to be an apple core, a stray turnip, or
wisp of hay, in the gutter, this Mark Tapley was sure to find it,
and none of his mates seemed to begrudge him his bite. I
suspected this fellow was the peacemaker, confidant and friend of
all the others, for he had a sort of "Cheer-up,-old-boy,-I'll-
pull-you-through" look, which was exceedingly engaging.

Pigs also possessed attractions for me, never having had an
opportunity of observing their graces of mind and manner, till I
came to Washington, whose porcine citizens appeared to enjoy a
larger liberty than many of its human ones. Stout, sedate looking
pigs, hurried by each morning to their places of business, with a
preoccupied air, and sonorous greeting to their friends. Genteel
pigs, with an extra curl to their tails, promenaded in pairs,
lunching here and there, like gentlemen of leisure. Rowdy pigs
pushed the passers by off the side walk; tipsy pigs hiccoughed
their version of "We wont go home till morning," from the gutter;
and delicate young pigs tripped daintily through the mud, as if,
like "Mrs. Peerybingle," they plumed themselves upon their
ankles, and kept themselves particularly neat in point of
stockings. Maternal pigs, with their interesting families,
strolled by in the sun; and often the pink, baby-like squealers
lay down for a nap, with a trust in Providence worthy of human
imitation.

But more interesting than officers, ladies, mules, or pigs, were
my colored brothers and sisters, because so unlike the
respectable members of society I'd known in moral Boston.

Here was the genuine article--no, not the genuine article at all,
we must go to Africa for that--but the sort of creatures
generations of slavery have made them: obsequious, trickish, lazy
and ignorant, yet kind-hearted, merry-tempered, quick to feel and
accept the least token of the brotherly love which is slowly
teaching the white hand to grasp the black, in this great
struggle for the liberty of both the races.

Having been warned not to be too rampant on the subject of
slavery, as secesh principles flourished even under the
respectable nose of Father Abraham, I had endeavored to walk
discreetly, and curb my unruly member; looking about me with all
my eyes, the while, and saving up the result of my observations
for future use. I had not been there a week before the neglected,
devil-may care expression in many of the faces about me, seemed
an urgent appeal to leave nursing white bodies, and take some
care for these black souls. Much as the lazy boys and saucy girls
tormented me, I liked them, and found that any show of interest
or friendliness brought out the better traits which live in the
most degraded and forsaken of us all. I liked their cheerfulness,
for the dreariest old hag, who scrubbed all day in that
pestilential steam, gossipped and grinned all the way out, when
night set her free from drudgery. The girls romped with their
dusky sweethearts, or tossed their babies, with the tender pride
that makes mother-love a beautifier to the homeliest face. The
men and boys sang and whistled all day long; and often, as I held
my watch, the silence of the night was sweetly broken by some
chorus from the street, full of real melody, whether the song was
of heaven, or of hoe-cakes; and, as I listened, I felt that we
never should doubt nor despair concerning a race which, through
such griefs and wrongs, still clings to this good gift, and seems
to solace with it the patient hearts that wait and watch and hope
until the end.

I expected to have to defend myself from accusations of prejudice
against color; but was surprised to find things just the other
way, and daily shocked some neighbor by treating the blacks as I
did the whites. The men would swear at the "darkies," would put
two gs into negro, and scoff at the idea of any good coming from
such trash. The nurses were willing to be served by the colored
people, but seldom thanked them, never praised, and scarcely
recognized them in the street; whereat the blood of two
generations of abolitionists waxed hot in my veins, and, at the
first opportunity, proclaimed itself, and asserted the right of
free speech as doggedly as the irrepressible Folsom herself.

Happening to catch up a funny little black baby, who was toddling
about the nurses' kitchen, one day, when I went down to make a
mess for some of my men, a Virginia woman standing by elevated
her most prominent features, with a sniff of disapprobation,
exclaiming:

"Gracious, Miss P.! how can you? I've been here six months. and
never so much as touched the little toad with a poker."

"More shame for you, ma'am," responded Miss P.; and, with the
natural perversity of a Yankee, followed up the blow by kissing
"the toad," with ardor. His face was providentially as clean and
shiny as if his mamma had just polished it up with a corner of
her apron and a drop from the tea-kettle spout, like old Aunt
Chloe, This rash act, and the anti-slavery lecture that followed,
while one hand stirred gruel for sick America, and the other
hugged baby Africa, did not produce the cheering result which I
fondly expected; for my comrade henceforth regarded me as a
dangerous fanatic, and my protege nearly came to his death by
insisting on swarming up stairs to my room, on all occasions, and
being walked on like a little black spider.

I waited for New Year's day with more eagerness than I had ever
known before; and, though it brought me no gift, I felt rich in
the act of justice so tardily performed toward some of those
about me. As the bells rung midnight, I electrified my room-mate
by dancing out of bed, throwing up the window, and flapping my
handkerchief, with a feeble cheer, in answer to the shout of a
group of colored men in the street below. All night they tooted
and tramped, fired crackers, sung "Glory, Hallelujah," and took
comfort, poor souls! in their own way. The sky was clear, the
moon shone benignly, a mild wind blew across the river, and all
good omens seemed to usher in the dawn of the day whose noontide
cannot now be long in coming. If the colored people had taken
hands and danced around the White House, with a few cheers for
the much abused gentleman who has immortalized himself by one
just act, no President could have had a finer levee, or one to be
prouder of.

While these sights and sounds were going on without, curious
scenes were passing within, and I was learning that one of the
best methods of fitting oneself to be a nurse in a hospital, is
to be a patient there; for then only can one wholly realize what
the men suffer and sigh for; how acts of kindness touch and win;
how much or little we are to those about us; and for the first
time really see that in coming there we have taken our lives in
our hands, and may have to pay dearly for a brief experience.
Every one was very kind; the attendants of my ward often came up
to report progress, to fill my wood box, or bring messages and
presents from my boys. The nurses took many steps with those
tired feet of theirs, and several came each evening, to chat over
my fire and make things cozy for the night. The doctors paid
daily visits, tapped at my lungs to see if pneumonia was within,
left doses without names, and went away, leaving me as ignorant,
and much more uncomfortable than when they came. Hours began to
get confused; people looked odd; queer faces haunted the room,
and the nights were one long fight with weariness and pain.
Letters from home grew anxious; the doctors lifted their
eyebrows, and nodded ominously; friends said "Don't stay," and an
internal rebellion seconded the advice; but the three months were
not out, and the idea of giving up so soon was proclaiming a
defeat before I was fairly routed; so to all "Don't stays" I
opposed "I wills," till, one fine morning, a gray-headed
gentleman rose like a welcome ghost on my hearth; and, at the
sight of him, my resolution melted away, my heart turned traitor
to my boys, and, when he said, "Come home," I answered, "Yes,
father;" and so ended my career as an army nurse.

I never shall regret the going, though a sharp tussle with
typhoid, ten dollars, and a wig, are all the visible results of
the experiment; for one may live and learn much in a month. A
good fit of illness proves the value of health; real danger tries
one's mettle; and self-sacrifice sweetens character. Let no one
who sincerely desires to help the work on in this way, delay
going through any fear; for the worth of life lies in the
experiences that fill it, and this is one which cannot be
forgotten. All that is best and bravest in the hearts of men and
women, comes out in scenes like these; and, though a hospital is
a rough school, its lessons are both stern and salutary; and the
humblest of pupils there, in proportion to his faithfulness,
learns a deeper faith in God and in himself. I, for one, would
return tomorrow, on the "up-again,-and-take-another" principle,
if I could; for the amount of pleasure and profit I got out of
that month compensates for all the pangs; and, though a sadly
womanish feeling, I take some satisfaction in the thought that,
if I could not lay my head on the altar of my country, I have my
hair; and that is more than handsome Helen did for her dead
husband, when she sacrificed only the ends of her ringlets on his
urn. Therefore, I close this little chapter of hospital
experiences, with the regret that they were no better worth
recording; and add the poetical gem with which I console myself
for the untimely demise of "Nurse Periwinkle:"

    Oh, lay her in a little pit,
    With a marble stone to cover it;
    And carve thereon a gruel spoon,
    To show a "nuss" has died too soon.



CHAPTER VI: A POSTSCRIPT.

My Dear S.: -- As inquiries like your own have come to me from
various friendly readers of the Sketches, I will answer them en
masse and in printed form, as a sort of postscript to what has
gone before. One of these questions was, "Are there no services
by hospital death-beds, or on Sundays?"

In most Hospitals I hope there are; in ours, the men died, and
were carried away, with as little ceremony as on a battle-field.
The first event of this kind which I witnessed was so very brief,
and bare of anything like reverence, sorrow, or pious
consolation, that I heartily agreed with the bluntly expressed
opinion of a Maine man lying next his comrade, who died with no
visible help near him, but a compassionate woman and a tender-
hearted Irishman, who dropped upon his knees, and told his beads,
with Catholic fervor, for the good of his Protestant brother's
parting soul:

"If, after gettin' all the hard knocks, we are left to die this
way, with nothing but a Paddy's prayers to help us, I guess
Christians are rather scarce round Washington."

I thought so too; but though Miss Blank, one of my mates, anxious
that souls should be ministered to, as well as bodies, spoke more
than once to the Chaplain, nothing ever came of it. Unlike
another Shepherd, whose earnest piety weekly purified the Senate
Chamber, this man did not feed as well as fold his flock, nor
make himself a human symbol of the Divine Samaritan, who never
passes by on the other side.

I have since learned that our non-committal Chaplain had been a
Professor in some Southern College; and, though he maintained
that he had no secesh proclivities, I can testify that he seceded
from his ministerial duties, I may say, skedaddled; for, being
one of his own words, it is as appropriate as inelegant. He read
Emerson, quoted Carlyle, and tried to be a Chaplain; but judging
from his success, I am afraid he still hankered after the hominy
pots of Rebeldom.

Occasionally, on a Sunday afternoon, such of the nurses,
officers, attendants, and patients as could avail themselves of
it, were gathered in the Ball Room, for an hour's service, of
which the singing was the better part. To me it seemed that if
ever strong, wise, and loving words were needed, it was then; if
ever mortal man had living texts before his eyes to illustrate
and illuminate his thought, it was there; and if ever hearts were
prompted to devoutest self-abnegation, it was in the work which
brought us to anything but a Chapel of Ease. But some spiritual
paralysis seemed to have befallen our pastor; for, though many
faces turned toward him, full of the dumb hunger that often comes
to men when suffering or danger brings then nearer to the heart
of things, they were offered the chaff of divinity, and its wheat
was left for less needy gleaners, who knew where to look. Even
the fine old Bible stories, which may be made as lifelike as any
history of our day, by a vivid fancy and pictorial diction, were
robbed of all their charms by dry explanations and literal
applications, instead of being useful and pleasant lessons to
those men, whom weakness had rendered as docile as children in a
father's hands.

I watched the listless countenances all about me, while a mild
Daniel was moralizing in a den of utterly uninteresting lions;
while Shadrach, Meshech, and Abednego were leisurely passing
through the fiery furnace, where, I sadly feared, some of us
sincerely wished they had remained as permanencies; while the
Temple of Solomon was laboriously erected, with minute
descriptions of the process, and any quantity of bells and
pomegranates on the raiment of the priests. Listless they were at
the beginning, and listless at the end; but the instant some
stirring old hymn was given out, sleepy eyes brightened, lounging
figures sat erect, and many a poor lad rose up in his bed, or
stretch an eager hand for the book, while all broke out with a
heartiness that proved that somewhere at the core of even the
most abandoned, there still glowed some remnant of the native
piety that flows in music from the heart of every little child.
Even the big rebel joined, and boomed away in a thunderous bass,
singing--

    "Salvation! let the echoes fly,"

as energetically as if he felt the need of a speedy execution of
the command.

That was the pleasantest moment of the hour, for then it seemed a
homelike and happy spot; the groups of men looking over one
another's shoulders as they sang; the few silent figures in the
beds; here and there a woman noiselessly performing some
necessary duty, and singing as she worked; while in the arm chair
standing in the midst, I placed, for my own satisfaction, the
imaginary likeness of a certain faithful pastor, who took all
outcasts by the hand, smote the devil in whatever guise he came,
and comforted the indigent in spirit with the best wisdom of a
great and tender heart, which still speaks to us from its Italian
grave. With that addition, my picture was complete; and I often
longed to take a veritable sketch of a Hospital Sunday, for,
despite its drawbacks, consisting of continued labor, the want of
proper books, the barren preaching that bore no fruit, this day
was never like the other six.

True to their home training, our New England boys did their best
to make it what it should be. With many, there was much reading
of Testaments, humming over of favorite hymns, and looking at
such books as I could cull from a miscellaneous library. Some lay
idle, slept, or gossiped; yet, when I came to them for a quiet
evening chat, they often talked freely and well of themselves;
would blunder out some timid hope that their troubles might "do
'em good, and keep 'em stiddy;" would choke a little, as they
said good night, and turned their faces to the wall to think of
mother, wife, or home, these human ties seeming to be the most
vital religion which they yet knew. I observed that some of them
did not wear their caps on this day, though at other times they
clung to them like Quakers; wearing them in bed, putting them on
to read the paper, eat an apple, or write a letter, as if, like a
new sort of Samson, their strength lay, not in their hair, but in
their hats. Many read no novels, swore less, were more silent,
orderly, and cheerful, as if the Lord were an invisible
Wardmaster, who went his rounds but once a week, and must find
all things at their best. I liked all this in the poor, rough
boys, and could have found it in my heart to put down sponge and
tea-pot, and preach a little sermon then and there, while
homesickness and pain had made these natures soft, that some good
seed might be cast therein, to blossom and bear fruit here or
hereafter.

Regarding the admission of friends to nurse their sick, I can
only say, it was not allowed at Hurly-burly House; though one
indomitable parent took my ward by storm, and held her position,
in spite of doctors, matron, and Nurse Periwinkle. Though it was
against the rules, though the culprit was an acid, frost-bitten
female, though the young man would have done quite as well
without her anxious fussiness, and the whole room-full been much
more comfortable, there was something so irresistible in this
persistent devotion, that no one had the heart to oust her from
her post. She slept on the floor, without uttering a complaint;
bore jokes somewhat of the rudest; fared scantily, though her
basket was daily filled with luxuries for her boy; and tended
that petulant personage with a never-failing patience beautiful
to see.

I feel a glow of moral rectitude in saying this of her; for,
though a perfect pelican to her young, she pecked and cackled (I
don't know that pelicans usually express their emotions in that
manner,) most obstreperously, when others invaded her premises;
and led me a weary life, with "George's tea-rusks," "George's
foot bath," "George's measles," and "George's mother;" till after
a sharp passage of arms and tongues with the matron, she
wrathfully packed up her rusks, her son, and herself, and
departed, in an ambulance, scolding to the very last.

This is the comic side of the matter. The serious one is harder
to describe; for the presence, however brief, of relations and
friends by the bedside of the dead or dying, is always a trial to
the bystanders. They are not near enough to know how best to
comfort, yet too near to turn their backs upon the sorrow that
finds its only solace in listening to recitals of last words,
breathed into nurse's ears, or receiving the tender legacies of
love and longing bequeathed through them.

To me, the saddest sight I saw in that sad place, was the
spectacle of a grey-haired father, sitting hour after hour by his
son, dying from the poison of his wound. The old father, hale and
hearty; the young son, past all help, though one could scarcely
believe it; for the subtle fever, burning his strength away,
flushed his cheeks with color, filled his eyes with lustre, and
lent a mournful mockery of health to face and figure, making the
poor lad comelier in death than in life. His bed was not in my
ward; but I was often in and out, and for a day or two, the pair
were much together, saying little, but looking much. The old man
tried to busy himself with book or pen, that his presence might
not be a burden; and once when he sat writing, to the anxious
mother at home, doubtless, I saw the son's eyes fix upon his
face, with a look of mingled resignation and regret, as if
endeavoring to teach himself to say cheerfully the long good bye.
And again, when the son slept, the father watched him as he had
himself been watched; and though no feature of his grave
countenance changed, the rough hand, smoothing the lock of hair
upon the pillow, the bowed attitude of the grey head, were more
pathetic than the loudest lamentations. The son died; and the
father took home the pale relic of the life he gave, offering a
little money to the nurse, as the only visible return it was in
his power to make her; for though very grateful, he was poor. Of
course, she did not take it, but found a richer compensation in
the old man's earnest declaration:

"My boy couldn't have been better cared for if he'd been at home;
and God will reward you for it, though I can't."

My own experiences of this sort began when my first man died. He
had scarcely been removed, when his wife came in. Her eye went
straight to the well-known bed; it was empty; and feeling, yet
not believing the hard truth, she cried out, with a look I never
shall forget:

"Why, where's Emanuel?"

I had never seen her before, did not know her relationship to the
man whom I had only nursed for a day, and was about to tell her
he was gone, when McGee, the tender-hearted Irishman before
mentioned, brushed by me with a cheerful--"It's shifted to a
better bed he is, Mrs. Connel. Come out, dear, till I show ye;"
and, taking her gently by the arm, he led her to the matron, who
broke the heavy tidings to the wife, and comforted the widow.

Another day, running up to my room for a breath of fresh air and
a five minutes rest after a disagreeable task, I found a stout
young woman sitting on my bed, wearing the miserable look which I
had learned to know by that time. Seeing her, reminded me that I
had heard of some one's dying in the night, and his sister's
arriving in the morning. This must be she, I thought. I pitied
her with all my heart. What could I say or do? Words always seem
impertinent at such times; I did not know the man; the woman was
neither interesting in herself nor graceful in her grief; yet,
having known a sister's sorrow myself, I could have not leave her
alone with her trouble in that strange place, without a word. So,
feeling heart-sick, home-sick, and not knowing what else to do, I
just put my arms about her, and began to cry in a very helpless
but hearty way; for, as I seldom indulge in this moist luxury, I
like to enjoy it with all my might, when I do.

It so happened I could not have done a better thing; for, though
not a word was spoken, each felt the other's sympathy; and, in
the silence, our handkerchiefs were more eloquent than words. She
soon sobbed herself quiet; and leaving her on my bed, I went back
to work, feeling much refreshed by the shower, though I'd
forgotten to rest, and had washed my face instead of my hands. I
mention this successful experience as a receipt proved and
approved, for the use of any nurse who may find herself called
upon to minister to these wounds of the heart. They will find it
more efficacious than cups of tea, smelling-bottles, psalms, or
sermons; for a friendly touch and a companionable cry, unite the
consolations of all the rest for womankind; and, if genuine, will
be found a sovereign cure for the first sharp pang so many suffer
in these heavy times.

I am gratified to find that my little Sergeant has found favor in
several quarters, and gladly respond to sundry calls for news of
him, though my personal knowledge ended five months ago. Next to
my good John--I hope the grass is green above him, far away there
in Virginia!--I placed the Sergeant on my list of worthy boys; and
many jovial chat have I enjoyed with the merry-hearted lad, who
had a fancy for fun, when his poor arm was dressed. While Dr. P.
poked and strapped, I brushed the remains of the Sergeant's brown
mane--shorn sorely against his will--and gossiped with all my
might, the boy making odd faces, exclamations, and appeals, when
nerves got the better of nonsense, as they sometimes did:

"I'd rather laugh than cry, when I must sing out anyhow, so just
say that bit from Dickens again, please, and I'll stand it like a
man." He did; for "Mrs. Cluppins," "Chadband," and "Sam Weller,"
always helped him through;  thereby causing me to lay another
offering of love and admiration on the shrine of the god of my
idolatry, though he does wear too much jewelry and talk slang.

The Sergeant also originated, I believe, the fashion of calling
his neighbors by their afflictions instead of their names; and I
was rather taken aback by hearing them bandy remarks of this
sort, with perfect good humor and much enjoyment of the new game.

"Hallo, old Fits is off again!" "How are you, Rheumatiz?" "Will
you trade apples, Ribs?" "I say, Miss P. may I give Typus a drink
of this?" "Look here, No Toes, lend us a stamp, there's a good
feller," etc. He himself was christened "Baby B.," because he
tended his arm on a little pillow, and called it his infant.

Very fussy about his grub was Sergeant B., and much trotting of
attendants was necessary when he partook of nourishment. Anything
more irresistibly wheedlesome I never saw, and constantly found
myself indulging him, like the most weak-minded parent, merely
for the pleasure of seeing his blue eyes twinkle, his merry mouth
break into a smile, and his one hand execute a jaunty little
salute that was entirely captivating. I am afraid that Nurse P.
damaged her dignity, frolicking with this persuasive young
gentleman, though done for his well being. But "boys will be
boys," is perfectly applicable to the case; for, in spite of
years, sex and the "prunes-and-prisms" doctrine laid down for our
use, I have a fellow feeling for lads, and always owed Fate a
grudge because I wasn't a lord of creation instead of a lady.

Since I left, I have heard, from a reliable source, that my
Sergeant has gone home; therefore, the small romance that budded
the first day I saw him, has blossomed into its second chapter,
and I now imagine "dearest Jane" filling my place, tending the
wounds I tended, brushing the curly jungle I brushed, loving the
excellent little youth I loved, and eventually walking altarward,
with the Sergeant stumping gallantly at her side. If she doesn't
do all this, and no end more, I'll never forgive her; and
sincerely pray to the guardian saint of lovers, that "Baby B."
may prosper in his wooing, and his name be long in the land.

One of the lively episodes of hospital life, is the frequent
marching away of such as are well enough to rejoin their
regiments, or betake themselves to some convalescent camp. The
ward master comes to the door of each room that is to be thinned,
reads off a list of names, bids their owners look sharp and be
ready when called for; and, as he vanishes, the rooms fall into
an indescribable state of topsy-turvyness, as the boys begin to
black their boots, brighten spurs, if they have them, overhaul
knapsacks, make presents; are fitted out with needfuls, and--well,
why not?--kissed sometimes, as they say, good-bye; for in all
human probability we shall never meet again, and a woman's heart
yearns over anything that has clung to her for help and comfort.
I never liked these breakings-up of my little household: though
my short stay showed me but three. I was immensely gratified by
the hand shakes I got, for their somewhat painful cordiality
assured me that I had not tried in vain. The big Prussian rumbled
out his unintelligible adieux, with a grateful face and a
premonitory smooth of his yellow mustache, but got no farther,
for some one else stepped up, with a large brown hand extended,
and this recommendation of our very faulty establishment:

"We're off, ma'am, and I'm powerful sorry, for I'd no idea a
'orspittle was such a jolly place. Hope I'll git another ball
somewheres easy, so I'll come back, and be took care on again.
Mean, ain't it?"

I didn't think so, but the doctrine of inglorious ease was not
the right one to preach up, so I tried to look shocked, failed
signally, and consoled myself by giving him the fat pincushion he
had admired as the "cutest little machine agoin." Then they fell
into line in front of the house, looking rather wan and feeble,
some of them, but trying to step out smartly and march in good
order, though half the knapsacks were carried by the guard, and
several leaned on sticks instead of shouldering guns. All looked
up and smiled, or waved heir hands and touched their caps, as
they passed under our windows down the long street, and so away,
some to their homes in this world, and some to that in the next;
and, for the rest of the day, I felt like Rachel mourning for her
children, when I saw the empty beds and missed the familiar
faces.

You ask if nurses are obliged to witness amputations and such
matters, as a part of their duty? I think not, unless they wish;
for the patient is under the effects of ether, and needs no care
but such as the surgeons can best give. Our work begins
afterward, when the poor soul comes to himself, sick, faint, and
wandering; full of strange pains and confused visions, of
disagreeable sensations and sights. Then we must sooth and
sustain, tend and watch; preaching and practicing patience, till
sleep and time have restored courage and self-control.

I witnessed several operations; for the height of my ambition was
to go to the front after a battle, and feeling that the sooner I
inured myself to trying sights, the more useful I should be.
Several of my mates shrunk from such things; for though the
spirit was wholly willing, the flesh was inconveniently weak. One
funereal lady came to try her powers as a nurse; but, a brief
conversation eliciting the facts that she fainted at the sight of
blood, was afraid to watch alone, couldn't possibly take care of
delirious persons, was nervous about infections, and unable to
bear much fatigue, she was mildly dismissed. I hope she found her
sphere, but fancy a comfortable bandbox on a high shelf would
best meet the requirements of her case.

Dr. Z. suggested that I should witness a dissection; but I never
accepted his invitations, thinking that my nerves belonged to the
living, not to the dead, and I had better finish my education as
a nurse before I began that of a surgeon. But I never met the
little man skipping through the hall, with oddly shaped cases in
his hand, and an absorbed expression of countenance, without
being sure that a select party of surgeons were at work in the
dead house, which idea was a rather trying one, when I knew the
subject was some person whom I had nursed and cared for.

But this must not lead any one to suppose that the surgeons were
willfully hard or cruel, though one of them remorsefully confided
to me that he feared his profession blunted his sensibilities,
and perhaps, rendered him indifferent to the sight of pain.

I am inclined to think that in some cases it does; for, though a
capital surgeon and a kindly man, Dr. P., through long
acquaintance with many of the ills flesh is heir to, had acquired
a somewhat trying habit of regarding a man and his wound as
separate institutions, and seemed rather annoyed that the former
should express any opinion upon the latter, or claim any right in
it, while under his care. He had a way of twitching off a
bandage, and giving a limb a comprehensive sort of clutch, which
though no doubt entirely scientific, was rather startling than
soothing, and highly objectionable as a means of preparing nerves
for any fresh trial. He also expected the patient to assist in
small operations, as he considered them, and to restrain all
demonstrations during the process.

"Here, my man, just hold it this way, while I look into it a
bit," he said one day to Fitz G., putting a wounded arm into the
keeping of a sound one, and proceeding to poke about among bits
of bone and visible muscles, in a red and black chasm made by
some infernal machine of the shot or shell description. Poor Fitz
held on like a grim Death, ashamed to show fear before a woman,
till it grew more than he could bear in silence; and, after a few
smothered groans, he looked at me imploringly, as if he said, "I
wouldn't, ma'am, if I could help it," and fainted quietly away.

Dr. P. looked up, gave a compassionate sort of cluck, and poked
away more busily than ever, with a nod at me and a brief--"Never
mind; be so good as to hold this till I finish."

I obeyed, cherishing the while a strong desire to insinuate a few
of his own disagreeable knives and scissors into him, and see how
he liked it. A very disrespectful and ridiculous fancy of course;
for he was doing all that could be done, and the arm prospered
finely in his hands. But the human mind is prone to prejudice;
and though a personable man, speaking French like a born "Parley
voo," and whipping off legs like an animated guillotine, I must
confess to a sense of relief when he was ordered elsewhere; and
suspect that several of the men would have faced a rebel battery
with less trepidation than they did Dr. P., when he came briskly
in on his morning round.

As if to give us the pleasures of contrast, Dr. Z. succeeded him,
who, I think, suffered more in giving pain than did his patients
in enduring it; for he often paused to ask: "Do I hurt you?" and
seeing his solicitude, the boys invariably answered: "Not much;
go ahead, Doctor," though the lips that uttered this amiable fib
might be white with pain as they spoke. Over the dressing of some
of the wounds, we used to carry on conversations upon subjects
foreign to the work in hand, that the patient might forget
himself in the charms of our discourse. Christmas eve was spent
in this way; the Doctor strapping the little Sergeant's arm, I
holding the lamp, while all three laughed and talked, as if
anywhere but in a hospital ward; except when the chat was broken
by a long-drawn "Oh!" from "Baby B.," an abrupt request from the
Doctor to "Hold the lamp a little higher, please," or an
encouraging, "Most through, Sergeant," from Nurse P.

The chief Surgeon, Dr. O., I was told, refused the higher salary,
greater honor, and less labor, of an appointment to the Officer's
Hospital, round the corner, that he might serve the poor fellows
at Hurly-burly House, or go to the front, working there day and
night, among the horrors that succeed the glories of a battle. I
liked that so much, that the quiet, brown-eyed Doctor was my
especial admiration; and when my own turn came, had more faith in
him than in all the rest put together, although he did advise me
to go home, and authorize the consumption of blue pills.

Speaking of the surgeons reminds me that, having found all manner
of fault, it becomes me to celebrate the redeeming feature of
Hurly-burly House. I had been prepared by the accounts of others,
to expect much humiliation of spirit from the surgeons, and to be
treated by them like a door-mat, a worm, or any other meek and
lowly article, whose mission it is to be put down and walked
upon; nurses being considered as mere servants, receiving the
lowest pay, and, it's my private opinion, doing the hardest work
of any part of the army, except the mules. Great, therefore, was
my surprise, when I found myself treated with the utmost courtesy
and kindness. Very soon my carefully prepared meekness was laid
upon the shelf; and, going from one extreme to the other, I more
than once expressed a difference of opinion regarding sundry
messes it was my painful duty to administer.

As eight of us nurses chanced to be off duty at once, we had an
excellent opportunity of trying the virtues of these gentlemen;
and I am bound to say they stood the test admirably, as far as my
personal observation went. Dr. O.'s stethoscope was unremitting
in its attentions; Dr. S. brought his buttons into my room twice
a day, with the regularity of a medical clock; while Dr. Z.
filled my table with neat little bottles, which I never emptied,
prescribed Browning, bedewed me with Cologne, and kept my fire
going, as if, like the candles in St. Peter's, it must never be
permitted to die out. Waking, one cold night, with the certainty
that my last spark had pined away and died, and consequently
hours of coughing were in store for me, I was amazed to see a
ruddy light dancing on the wall, a jolly blaze roaring up the
chimney, and, down upon his knees before it, Dr. Z., whittling
shavings. I ought to have risen up and thanked him on the spot;
but, knowing that he was one of those who like to do good by
stealth, I only peeped at him as if he were a friendly ghost;
till, having made things as cozy as the most motherly of nurses
could have done, he crept away, leaving me to feel, as somebody
says, "as if angels were a watching of me in my sleep;" though
that species of wild fowl do not usually descend in broadcloth
and glasses. I afterwards discovered that he split the wood
himself on that cool January midnight, and went about making or
mending fires for the poor old ladies in their dismal dens; thus
causing himself to be felt--a bright and shining light in more
ways than one. I never thanked him as I ought; therefore, I
publicly make a note of it, and further aggravate that modest
M.D. by saying that if this was not being the best of doctors and
the gentlest of gentlemen, I shall be happy to see any
improvement upon it.

To such as wish to know where these scenes took place, I must
respectfully decline to answer; for Hurly-burly House has ceased
to exist as a hospital; so let it rest, with all its sins upon
its head,--perhaps I should say chimney top. When the nurses felt
ill, the doctors departed, and the patients got well, I believe
the concern gently faded from existence, or was merged into some
other and better establishment, where I hope the washing of three
hundred sick people is done out of the house, the food is
eatable, and mortal women are not expected to possess an angelic
exemption from all wants, and the endurance of truck horses.

Since the appearance of these hasty Sketches, I have heard from
several of my comrades at the Hospital; and their approval
assures me that I have not let sympathy and fancy run away with
me, as that lively team is apt to do when harnessed to a pen. As
no two persons see the same thing with the same eyes, my view of
hospital life must be taken through my glass, and held for what
it is worth. Certainly, nothing was set down in malice, and to
the serious-minded party who objected to a tone of levity in some
portions of the Sketches, I can only say that it is a part of my
religion to look well after the cheerfulnesses of life, and let
the dismals shift for themselves; believing, with good Sir Thomas
More, that it is wise to "be merrie in God."

The next hospital I enter will, I hope, be one for the colored
regiments, as they seem to be proving their right to the
admiration and kind offices of their white relations, who owe
them so large a debt, a little part of which I shall be so proud
to pay.

Yours,
With a firm faith
In the good time coming,
TRIBULATION PERIWINKLE.



THE END





This site is full of FREE ebooks - Project Gutenberg Australia