Mrs. O'Leary still lives in Sharon. The old fire is unquenched.
There are two names of patriotic women which will always awaken in every Southern heart profound veneration, and imperishable love and gratitude,—women who devoted themselves so entirely, so continuously to the soldiers of the Confederacy as to obliterate self, unconsciously winning for themselves the while a name and fame which history will proudly record.
Their names—written in many hearts, fondly cherished in the homes of veterans whose children are taught to revere them—are Mrs. Buck Morris and Mrs. L.M. Caldwell. Mrs. Morris was by birth a Kentuckian, but at the beginning of the war resided with her husband, a prominent and wealthy lawyer, in Chicago, Illinois.
Her sympathies, always Southern, became strongly enlisted upon the side of the unfortunate prisoners at Camp Douglas. Both Judge Morris and his wife were deeply implicated in the plot to release these men. Their home in Chicago was a place of secret rendezvous for Southerners who, in the interest of these prisoners, were secretly visiting Chicago.
By some means constant communication with the prisoners was established, and if they still suffered horribly, hope revived among them for a while, and her blessed presence lightened their burdens. Mrs. Morris well knew that by implicating herself in the plot she was placing herself and husband in a position to suffer in their own persons and property in case of failure. Death would be the most probable consequence. Yet she risked it all. To use her own words, copied from a letter which I received from her shortly before her death,
"I did help my suffering, starving countrymen, who were subjected to the horrors of Camp Douglas. I loved them with all the sympathy and pride of a mother, and I did spend upon them every dollar of my own money and as much of my husband's as I could get by fair means or foul in my hands.
"At the close of the war we found ourselves broken in health and fortune, but my husband had still enough left for our support; but the great Chicago fire swept our all away.
"Should my health improve, I wish to make an effort to send you a fuller account, and to add my small morsel of praise to the gallantry and patient endurance of the most bitter and maddening trials that men were ever called upon to endure.
"One unselfish action I would like to have recorded of a member of J.H. Morgan's command, the same to which my dear friend Colonel B.F. Forman belonged, and he can tell you how proud all Kentucky was of her brave boys. This is what I wish to write, because I like to have every noble deed recorded. After my good brother, Ex-Governor Blackman (who has administered medicine whenever I needed it), removed to Tennessee, and I felt the attack coming on from which I have so long and so severely suffered, I applied to Dr. R. Wilson Thompson for medical advice, and, receiving it, put my hand in my pocket. He said, almost sternly, 'No, no, Mrs. Morris, do not attempt that; you cannot do it,' and, rising abruptly, left the house. Returning the second day, he said, 'I fear you did not understand me, Mrs. Morris: I feel as every Confederate soldier feels, or ought to feel,—that he could never do enough for you; we could never receive pay from you for anything.' And so for the last five months he, although like many of our brave boys has had many hardships to endure, and his constitution shattered, has come through snow and sleet night and day to minister to the relief of an old woman who only did her duty to him and his people twenty long years ago. How few remember to be grateful so long! Present my best love to my old friend B.F. Forman. I remain always your friend and well-wisher,
"Mrs. Mary B. Morris.
"Spring Station, Kentucky."