Having left Doctor Painter’s hospitable home, I was now boarding on K Street, where I met a most charming blonde Scotch girl—Cordelia Anderson, holding a responsible position in the Treasury Department. She made my evenings delightful, as had my friend Annie Bain in our field tent at City Point, after the strain, the work and indignation of almost every day. A few years later, this rare young woman, still in Washington in July of ’67, sent for me to come to her on my way north on my vacation from Norfolk, Virginia, where I was Superintendent of Colored Schools. She was very ill with typhoid. I nursed her till the doctor insisted that for my own health I must leave her, when a kindly old Auntie took charge until her recovery.
The intolerable heat of Washington at that season was unusual. The streets were not paved, and a fine impalpable dust, continually rising, was suffocating. At the boarding house where we were, I saw the most astonishing rats, as large as small cats; and at night when I went down-stairs to get ice for the sick girl, they ran up-stairs ahead of me, and coolly sat upon their haunches, blinking at me with their vicious black eyes.
CHAPTER XXX
THE LAST ACT IN MY DRAMA AT WASHINGTON
While still working at high tension I suddenly became aware that even my great vitality and good health demanded a rest, and I was preparing to leave for home, when Mr. Huron, of the Indiana State Agency, who had nearly lost his pretty wife by typhoid at City Point, came urging me to undertake an unusually difficult case, an application for discharge. I insisted that I had not enough energy left to win another case. His discharge had been repeatedly blocked, even though urged by the Secretary of the State of Indiana, and there seemed to be no hope of sending this brave soldier home. However, Mr. Huron’s statement of injustice was so exasperating that, in righteous indignation, I determined to remain and make one more effort at this last moment. This man, who had served his full term of four years honorably, and had lost a leg, was, without consent, placed on the roll of the Invalid Corps, which indignity old soldiers considered a stain on their army escutcheon. Many appeals had failed to accomplish his discharge. The case was always “referred back” to the hospital where it was duly “pigeon-holed.” The man’s sister had come to Washington expecting to take him home to Indiana, but for weeks all their efforts had failed, and now some legal complications had culminated which required his presence at home to save their little property and farm.
The next day I went to the hospital, and after listening to the man’s statement I went directly to the surgeon in charge, and stated the case,—to which he replied with some discourtesy. Having received the utmost courtesy and respect and attention from all the departments when I had asked for help, my temper rose to the occasion when he said: “The man has no descriptive list, and I will attend to it when I think best!”
“That will not answer my purpose,” I replied warmly. “I wish the man to go at once!” and I made some strong statements of the urgency of the situation. He assumed a dignified silence; on which I stated emphatically “The man is going! If you do not help me in the matter, he will go just the same!” My indignation was then sufficient to put through a half dozen cases.
Going directly to the Medical Department, I made known to Surgeons Middletown and Abbott the unjust detention of this loyal soldier. They had always promptly aided me in other cases; and upon hearing my statement they also became indignant, and offered me every help. I had “turned in” my ambulance with many thanks, when I intended to leave for home; but Doctor Middletown said “You had better have our headquarters’ ambulance, for you have many miles to travel over the city to put this matter through, and I will go ‘over the head’ of this surgeon and order him to order a descriptive list.”
With this document I was much encouraged, and went next morning to the hospital and my aristocratic surgeon, who tried not to appear surprised as he said loftily: “I will attend to it.”
“Excuse me,” I said, “I came directly from Headquarters to get your signature, and to deliver the paper to the Medical Department myself.”