Woman's Work in the Civil War Part 20

MRS. CORDELIA A. P. HARVEY

The State of Wisconsin is justly proud of a name, which, while standing for what is n.o.ble and true in man, has received an added l.u.s.tre in being made to express also, the sympathy, the goodness, and the power of woman. The death of the honored husband, and the public labors of the heroic wife, in the same cause--the great cause that has absorbed the attention and the resources of the country for four years--have given each to the other a peculiar and thrilling interest to every loyal American heart.

It will be remembered that shortly after the battle of s.h.i.+loh, Governor Harvey proceeded to the front with supplies and medical aid to a.s.sist in caring for the wounded among the soldiers from his State, after rendering great service in alleviating their sufferings by the aid and comfort he brought with him, and reviving their spirits by his presence.

As he was about to embark at Savannah for home, in pa.s.sing from one boat to another, he fell into the river and was drowned. This was on the 19th of April, 1862, a day made memorable by some of the most important events in our country's history. Two days before he wrote to Mrs. Harvey the last sacred letter as follows:

"PITTSBURG LANDING, _April 17, 1862_.

"DEAR WIFE:--Yesterday was _the day_ of my life. Thank G.o.d for the impulse that brought me here. I am well and have done more good by coming than I can well tell you. In haste,

"LOUIS."

[Ill.u.s.tration: MRS. CORDELIA A. P. HARVEY.

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

With these words ringing in her ears as from beyond the tomb, the conviction forced itself upon her mind that the path of duty for her lay in the direction he had so faithfully pointed out. But for a while womanly feeling overcame all else, and she gave way beneath the shock of her affliction, coming so suddenly and taking away at once the pride, the hope, and the joy of life. For many weeks it seemed that the tie that bound her to the departed was stronger than that which held her to the earth, and her friends almost despaired of seeing her again herself.

Hers was indeed a severe affliction. A husband, beloved and honored by all, without a stain upon his fair fame, with a bright future and hope of long life before him, had fallen--suddenly as by a bullet--at the front, where his great heart had led him to look after the wants of his own brave troops--fallen to be remembered with the long list of heroes who have died that their country might live, and in making themselves immortal, have made a people great. Nor was this sacrifice without its fruit. It was this that put it into her heart to work for the soldiers, and from the grave of HARVEY have sprung those flowers of Love and Mercy whose fragrance has filled the land.

Looking back now, it is easy to see how much this bereavement had to do in fitting Mrs. Harvey for her work. It is the experience of sorrow that prepares us to minister to others in distress. At home none could say they had given more for their country than she, few could feel a sorrow she had not known or with which she could not sympathize, out of something in her own experience. In the army, in camps and hospitals, who so fit to speak in the place of wife or mother to the sick and dying soldier, as she, in whom the tenderest feelings of the heart had been touched by the hand of Death?

With the intention of devoting herself to this work, she asked of the Governor permission to visit hospitals in the Western Department, as agent for the State, which was cordially granted, and early in the autumn of 1862, set out for St. Louis to commence her new work.

To a lady who had seen nothing of military life, of course, all was strange. The experiment she was making was one in which very many kind-hearted women have utterly failed--rus.h.i.+ng to hospitals from the impulse of a tender sympathy, only to make themselves obnoxious to the surgeons by their impertinent zeal, and, by their inexperience and indiscretion, useless, and sometimes detrimental, to the patients. With the wisdom that has marked her course throughout, she at once comprehended the delicacy of the situation, and was not long in perceiving what she could best do, and wherein she could accomplish the most good. The facility with which she brought, not only her own best powers, but the influence universally accorded to her position, to bear for the benefit of the suffering soldiers, is subject of remark and wonder among all who have witnessed her labors.

At that time St. Louis was the theater of active military operations, and the hospitals were crowded with sick and wounded from the camps and battle-fields of Missouri and Tennessee. The army was not then composed of the hardy veterans whose prowess has since carried victory into every rebellious State, but of boys and young men unused to hards.h.i.+p, who, in the flush of enthusiasm, had entered the army. Time had not then brought to its present perfection the work of the Medical Department, and but for the spontaneous generosity of the people in sending forward a.s.sistance and supplies for the sick and wounded, the army could scarcely have existed. Such was the condition of things when Mrs. Harvey commenced her work of mercy in visiting the hospitals of that city, filled with the victims of battle and disease. How from morning till night for many a weary week she waited by the cots of these poor fellows, attending to their little wants, and speaking words of cheer and comfort, those who knew her then all well remember. The work at once became delightful and profitable to her, calling her mind away from its own sorrows to the physical suffering of those around her. In her eagerness to soothe their woes, she half forgot her own, and came to them always with a joyous smile and words of cheerful consolation.

During her stay in St. Louis her home was at the hospitable mansion of George Partridge, Esq., an esteemed member of the Western Sanitary Commission, whose household seem to have vied with each other in attention and kindness to their guest.

Hearing of great suffering at Cape Girardeau, she went there about the 1st of August, just as the First Wisconsin Cavalry were returning from their terrible expedition through the swamps of Arkansas. She had last seen them in all their pride and manly beauty, reviewed by her husband, the Governor, before they left their State. Now how changed! The strongest, they that could stand, just tottering about, the very shadows of their former selves. The building taken as a temporary hospital, was filled to overflowing, and the surgeons were without hospital supplies, the men subsisting on the common army ration alone. The heat was oppressive, and the diseases of the most fearfully contagious character.

The surgeons themselves were appalled, and the attendants shrank from the care of the sick and the removal of the dead. In one room she found a corpse which had evidently lain for many hours, the nurses fearing to go near and see if the man was dead. With her own hands she bound up the face, and emboldened by her coolness, the burial party were induced to coffin the body and remove it from the house. Here was a field for self-forgetfulness and heroic devotion to a holy cause; and here the light of woman's sympathy shone brightly when all else was fear and gloom. Patients dying with the noxious camp fever breathed into her ear their last messages to loved ones at home, as she pa.s.sed from cot to cot, undaunted by the bolts of death which fell around her thick as on the battle-field. She set herself to work procuring furloughs for such as were able to travel, and discharges for the permanently disabled, to get them away from a place of death. To this end she brought all the art of woman to work. Once convinced that the object she sought was just and right, she left no honorable means untried to secure it. Surgeons were flattered and coaxed, whenever coaxing and flattering availed; or, failing in this, she knew when to administer a gentle threat, or an intimation that a report might go up to a higher official. One resource failing she always had another, and never attempted anything without carrying it out.

Mrs. Harvey relates many touching incidents of her experience at this place which want of s.p.a.ce forbids us to repeat. One of her first acts was to telegraph Mr. Yeatman, President of the Western Sanitary Commission, at St. Louis, for hospital stores, and in two days, by his promptness and liberality, she received an abundant supply.

After several weeks' stay at Cape Girardeau, during which time the condition of the hospital greatly improved, Mrs. Harvey continued her tour of visitation which was to embrace all the general hospitals on the Mississippi river, as well as the regimental hospitals of the troops of her own State. Her face, cheerful with all the heart's burden of grief, gladdened every ward where lay a Union soldier, from Keokuk as far down as the st.u.r.dy legions of GRANT had regained possession of the Father of Waters.

At Memphis she was able to do great service in procuring furloughs for men who would else have died. Often has the writer heard brave men declare, with tearful eyes, their grat.i.tude to her for favors of this kind. Many came to have a strange and almost superst.i.tious reverence for a person exercising so powerful an influence, and using it altogether for the good of the common soldier. The estimate formed of her authority by some of the more ignorant cla.s.s, often exhibited itself in an extremely ludicrous manner. She would sometimes receive letters from homesick men begging her to give them a furlough to visit their families! and often, from deserters and others confined in military prisons, asking to be set at liberty, and promising faithful service thereafter!

The spring of 1863 found General Grant making his approaches upon the last formidable position held by the rebels on the Mississippi. Young's Point, across the river from Vicksburg, the limit of uninterrupted navigation at that time, will be remembered by many as a place of great suffering to our brave boys. The high water covering the low lands on which they were encamped during the famous ca.n.a.l experiment, induced much sickness. Intent to be where her kind offices were most needed, Mrs. Harvey proceeded thither about the first of April. After a few weeks' labor, she, herself, overcome by the terrible miasma, was taken seriously ill, and was obliged to return homeward. Months of rest, and a visit to the sea-side, were required to bring back a measure of her wonted strength, and so for the summer her services were lost to the army.

But though for a while withheld from her chosen work, Mrs. Harvey never forgot the sick soldier. Her observation while with the army, convinced her of the necessity of establis.h.i.+ng general hospitals in the Northern States, where soldiers suffering from diseases incurable in the South, might be sent with prospect of recovery. Her own personal experience deepened her conviction, and, although the plan found little favor then among high officials, she at once gave her heart to its accomplishment.

Although repeated efforts had been made in vain to lead the Government into this policy, Mrs. Harvey determined to go to Was.h.i.+ngton and make her plea in person to the president.

As the result of her interview with Mr. Lincoln, which was of the most cordial character, a General Hospital was granted to the State of Wisconsin; and none who visit the city of Madison can fail to observe, with patriotic pride, the n.o.ble structure known as Harvey Hospital. As proof of the service it has done, and as fully verifying the arguments urged by Mrs. Harvey to secure its establishment, the reader is referred to the reports of the surgeon in charge of the hospital.

Her mission at Was.h.i.+ngton accomplished, Mrs. Harvey returned immediately home, where she soon received official intelligence that the hospital would be located at Madison and be prepared for the reception of patients at the earliest possible moment. Upon this, she went immediately to Memphis, Tennessee, where she was informed by the medical director of the Sixteenth Army Corps, that there were over one hundred men in Fort Pickering (used as a Convalescent Camp) who had been vacillating between camp and hospital for a year, and who would surely die unless removed North. At his suggestion, she accompanied these sick men up the river, to get them, if possible, north of St. Louis. She landed at Cairo, and proceeded to St. Louis by rail, and, on the arrival of the transport, had transportation to Madison ready for the men. As they were needy, and had not been paid, she procured of the Western Sanitary Commission a change of clothing for every one. Out of the whole number, only seven died, and only five were discharged. The remainder returned, strong and healthy, to the service.

Returning South, she visited all points on the river down to New Orleans, coming back to make her home for the time at Vicksburg, as the place nearest the centre of her field of labor. The Superintendent and Matrons of the Soldiers' Home extended to her a hearty welcome, happy to have their inst.i.tution honored by her presence, and receive her sympathizing and kindly aid. So substantial was the reputation she had won among the army, that her presence alone, at a military post in the West, was a power for good. Officers and attendants in charge of hospitals knew how quick she was to apprehend and bring to light any delinquency in the performance of their duties, and profited by this knowledge to the mutual advantage of themselves and those thrown upon their care.

During the summer of 1864, the garrison of Vicksburg suffered much from diseases incident to the season in that lat.i.tude. Perhaps in no regiment was the mortality greater than in the Second Wisconsin Cavalry. Strong men sickened and died within a few days, and others lingered on for weeks, wasting by degrees, till only skin and bone were left. The survivors, in evidence of their appreciation of her sympathy and exertions for them in their need, presented her an elegant enameled gold watch, beautifully set with diamonds. The presentation was an occasion on which she could not well avoid a public appearance, and those who were present, must have wondered that one of such power in private conversation should have so little control, even of her own feelings, before an a.s.sembly. Mrs. Harvey has never distinguished herself as a _public_ speaker. Resolute, impetuous, confident to a degree bordering on the imperious, with power of denunciation to equip an orator, she yet shrinks from the gaze of a mult.i.tude with a woman's modesty, and the humility of a child. She does not underestimate the worth of true womanhood by attempting to act a distinctively manly part.

Although known as the agent of the State of Wisconsin, Mrs. Harvey has paid little regard to state lines, and has done a truly national work.

Throughout the time of her stay with the army, applications for her aid came as often from the soldiers of other states as from those of her own, and no one was ever refused relief if to obtain it was in her power. Acting in the character of a friend to every Union soldier, from whatever state, she has had the entire confidence of the great Sanitary Commissions, and rendered to their agents invaluable aid in the distribution of goods. The success that has everywhere attended Mrs.

Harvey's efforts, directly or indirectly, to benefit the soldier, has given to her life an unusual charm, and established for her a national reputation.

In years to come, the war-scarred veteran will recount to listening children around the domestic hearth, along with many a thrilling deed of valor performed by his own right arm, the angel visits of this lady to his cot, when languis.h.i.+ng with disease, or how, when ready to die, her intercessions secured him a furlough, and sent him home to feel the curative power of his native air and receive the care of loving hands and hearts. Not a few unfortunates will remember, if they do not tell, how her care reached them, not only in hospital but in prison as well, bringing clothing and comfort to them when s.h.i.+vering in their rags; while others, again, will not be ashamed to relate, as we have heard them, with tears, their grat.i.tude for release from unjust imprisonment, secured by her faithful exertions.

The close of the war has brought Mrs. Harvey back to her home, and closed her work for the soldiers. Her attention now is turned in the direction of soothing the sorrows the war has caused among the households of her State. Many a soldier who has died for his country, has left his little ones to the charity of the world. Through her exertions the State of Wisconsin now has a Soldiers' Orphan Asylum, where all these children of our dead heroes shall be gathered in. By a visit to Was.h.i.+ngton she has recently obtained from the United States Government, the donation of its interest in Harvey Hospital, and has turned it into an inst.i.tution of this kind, and has set her hand and heart to the work of securing from the people a liberal endowment for it.

Happy indeed has she been in her truly Christian work, begun in sadness and opening into the joy that crowns every good work. The benedictions of thousands of the brave and victorious rest upon her, and the purest spirits of the martyred ones have her in their gentle care! May America be blest with many more like her to teach us by example the nature and practice of a true Christian heroism.

MRS. SARAH R. JOHNSTON.

Our northern women have won the highest meed of praise for their devotion and self-sacrifice in the cause of their country, but great as their labors and sacrifices have been, they are certainly inferior to those of some of the loyal women of the South, who for the love they bore to their country and its flag, braved all the contempt, obloquy and scorn which Southern women could heap upon them--who lived for years in utter isolation from the society of relatives, friends, and neighbors, because they would render such aid and succor as was in their power to the defenders of the national cause, in prison, in sorrow and in suffering. Often were the lives of those brave women in danger, and the calmness with which they met those who thirsted for their blood gave evidence of their position of a spirit as undaunted and lofty as any which ever faced the cannon's mouth or sought death in the high places of the field. Among these heroines none deserves a higher place in the records of womanly patriotism and courage than Mrs. Sarah R. Johnston.

At the breaking out of the war Mrs. Johnston was teaching a school at Salisbury, North Carolina, where she was born and always resided. When the first prisoners were brought into that place, the Southern women turned out in their carriages and with a band escorted them through the town, and when they filed past saluted them with contemptuous epithets.

From that time Mrs. Johnston determined to devote herself to the amelioration of the condition of the prisoners; and the testimony of thousands of the Union soldiers confined there proved how n.o.bly she performed the duties she undertook. It was no easy task, for she was entirely alone, being the only woman who openly advocated Union sentiments and attempted to administer to the wants of the prisoners.

For fifteen months none of the women of Salisbury spoke to her or called upon her, and every possible indignity was heaped on her as a "Yankee sympathizer." Her scholars were withdrawn from her school, and it was broken up, and her means were very limited; nevertheless, she accomplished more by systematic arrangements than many would have done with a large outlay of money.

When the first exchange of prisoners was made, she went to the depot to arrange some pallets for some of the sick who were leaving, when she stumbled in the crowd, and looking down she found a young Federal soldier who had fainted and fallen, and was in danger of being trodden to death. She raised him up and called for water, but none of the people would get a drop to save a "Yankee's" life. Some of the soldiers who were in the cars threw their canteens to her, and she succeeded in reviving him; during this time the crowd heaped upon her every insulting epithet they could think of, and her life even was in danger. But she braved all, and succeeded in obtaining permission from Colonel G.o.dwin, then in command of the post, who was a kind-hearted man, to let her remove him to her own house, promising to take care of him as if he were her own son, and if he died to give him Christian burial. He was in the last stages of consumption, and she felt sure he would die if taken to the prison hospital. None of the citizens of the place would even a.s.sist in carrying him, and after a time two gentlemen from Richmond stepped forward and helped convey him to her house. There she watched over him for hours, as he was in a terrible state from neglect, having had blisters applied to his chest which had never been dressed and were full of vermin.

The poor boy, whose name was Hugh Berry, from Ohio, only lived a few days, and she had a grave dug for him in her garden in the night, for burial had been refused in the public graveyard, and she had been threatened that if she had him interred decently his body should be dug up and buried in the street. They even attempted to take his body from the house for that purpose, but she stood at her door, pistol in hand, and said to them that the first man who dared to cross her threshold for such a purpose should be shot like a dog. They did not attempt it, and she performed her promise to the letter.

During the first two years she was enabled to do a great many acts of kindness for the prisoners, but after that time she was watched very closely as a Yankee sympathizer, and the rules of the prison were stricter, and what she could do was done by strategy.

Her means were now much reduced, but she still continued in her good work, cutting up her carpets and spare blankets to make into moccasins, and when new squads of prisoners arrived, supplied them with bread and water as they halted in front of her house, which they were compelled to do for hours, waiting the routine of being mustered into the prison.

They were not allowed to leave their ranks, and she would turn an old-fas.h.i.+oned windla.s.s herself for hours, raising water from her well; for the prisoners were often twenty-four to forty-eight hours on the railroad without rations or water.

Generally the officer in command would grant her request, but once a sergeant told her, in reply, if she gave any of them a drop of water or a piece of bread, or dared to come outside her gate for that purpose, he would pin her to the earth with his bayonet. She defied him, and taking her pail of water in one hand, and a basket of bread in the other, she walked directly past him on her errand of mercy; he followed her, placing his bayonet between her shoulders, just so that she could feel the cold steel. She turned and coolly asked him why he did not pin her to the earth, as he had threatened to do, but got no reply. Then some of the rebels said, "Sergeant, you can't make anything on that woman, you had better let her alone," and she performed her work unmolested.

Not content with these labors, she visited the burial-place where the deceased Union prisoners of that loathsome prison-pen at Salisbury were buried, and transcribed with a loving fidelity every inscription which could be found there, to let the sorrowing friends of those martyrs to their country know where their beloved ones are laid. The number of these marked graves is small, only thirty-one in all, for the greater part of the four or five thousand dead starved and tortured there till they relinquished their feeble hold on life, were buried in trenches four or five deep, and no record of their place of burial was permitted.

Mrs. Johnston also copied from the rebel registers at Salisbury after the place was captured the statistics of the Union prisoners, admitted, died, and remaining on hand in each month from October, 1864, to April, 1865. The aggregates in these six months were four thousand and fifty-four admitted, of whom two thousand three hundred and ninety-seven died, and one thousand six hundred and fifty-seven remained.

Mrs. Johnston came North in the summer of 1865, to visit her daughter, who had been placed at a school in Connecticut by the kindness of some of the officers she had befriended in prison; transportation having been given her by Generals Schofield and Carter, who testified to the services she had rendered our prisoners, and that she was ent.i.tled to the grat.i.tude of the Government and all loyal citizens.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MISS EMILY E. PARSONS.

Eng^d. by John Sartain.]