To meet this urgent necessity something must be done immediately. In our straits we appealed to General Fremont, who promptly came to our aid,[[93]] and, on September 5th, issued an order, authorizing the Western Sanitary Commission, under the medical director of the army, to select, fit up, and furnish suitable buildings for “Army and Brigade Hospitals;” to choose and appoint, under the authority of Miss Dorothea L. Dix, general superintendent of the nurses of military hospitals in the United States, female nurses; to cooperate with the surgeons of the army in providing male nurses; to visit the various military camps, consult with the commanding officers in reference to the sanitary condition of the troops, and aid them in providing the best means for preventing sickness, such as proper drainage, warm clothing and wholesome food. Moreover the Commission was enjoined to use every available means for the promotion of the social and moral welfare of the soldiers. To satisfy the varied wants of those in camps and hospitals, the Commission was directed to procure from the people at large such supplies as they would freely contribute to supplement those furnished by the government. But all this must be done in full and hearty cooperation with the regular medical staff of the army, some members of which were jealous of their honors and at times foolishly sensitive to innovations.
Finally, the general’s order declared that “This Sanitary Commission will, for the present, consist of James E. Yeatman, Esq.; C. S. Greely, Esq.; J. B. Johnson, M. D.; George Partridge, Esq.; and Rev. William G. Eliot, D. D.” Two of these were broadminded, enterprising merchants; one was a physician of high standing; while Mr. Yeatman was a retired Tennessee planter. He had been a slaveholder; but, called to go down the Mississippi River on business, he received from what he saw during his trip such an impression of the enormity of slavery, that, when he returned, he manumitted his slaves, sold his plantation, and thereafter made St. Louis his home. He was a rare man. He was eminently just. He saw clearly the fundamental elements of every problem presented to the Commission for solution. He had large administrative ability, a sharp eye for details, and, to crown all, a great heart. Few men in the nation did more than he to bring the war to a successful issue.
Dr. Eliot, whose name stands last on this roll of honor, was the pastor of the only Unitarian church in our city. By long and efficient ministerial service he had endeared himself to all the people. His name in St. Louis was a household word. But he was as noted for his skill and efficiency in inaugurating and successfully conducting large public enterprises, as for his wise and multifarious pastoral labors. He was the founder of Washington University and of Mary Institute, and it was through his personal efforts that these institutions, an ornament to our city, were built up. In fact every beneficent enterprise in St. Louis felt the stimulating touch of his hand and was indebted to him for his thoughtful guidance. Among the ablest pastors of our city, he was unquestionably best equipped for membership in this all-important Sanitary Commission.
The Commission, thus organized and launched, at once began its labors. It rented a five-story building at the corner of Fifth and Chestnut Streets, and speedily fitted it up for hospital service. It was named the “City General Hospital.” On September 10th, it was thrown open for the reception of patients. A throng of sick and wounded men, who had been anxiously waiting for accommodation and succor, quickly filled all its rooms.
In this building the Sanitary Commission made its headquarters. Mr. Yeatman was chosen president and gave his whole time to his duties, while the other members of the Commission met with him every day, except Sunday, for consultation. For this incessant, exacting toil no one of them received any moneyed compensation. Without a thought of personal gain they worked unremittingly and cheerfully for their country. The only motive that impelled them was a glowing, self-sacrificing patriotism. For a time, they employed only one man, and he acted as storekeeper, porter and clerk for thirty dollars a month. And this gratuitous, arduous service, beset at times with swarms of perplexities, was continued to the close of the war.
The sick and wounded of the army multiplied so rapidly, and the demand for medical aid became so insistent, that within two months after the opening of the first hospital, the Commission, with almost incredible energy, had added five more and all were filled to overflowing.
On April 6–7, 1862, the battle of Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh, was fought. On that field of carnage, one thousand seven hundred and thirty-five Union soldiers were killed outright, and seven thousand eight hundred and eighty-two were wounded. The latter were sent up to St. Louis by boat-loads. They were carried on stretchers up through our streets to the hospitals. The business men, merchants, clerks, manufacturers, bankers and artisans of various crafts helped bear along these ghastly burdens. Young men, the flower of the northwestern States, had been maimed, crippled, shot to pieces in defence of the Union. We were horror-stricken, and with a depth of emotion which we had not before felt, pledged to the defence of our government “our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.”
We now found that we had not sufficient room for these suffering heroes. Two large halls were immediately secured, transformed into hospitals, filled with the wounded, and furnished with sanitary stores, nurses and physicians. At last we had fifteen well-appointed hospitals in and around our city, with accommodation for six thousand patients. The largest was at Jefferson Barracks, which, within two years, received and treated more than eleven thousand sick and wounded soldiers. So out of necessity grew with ever accelerated pace this great work of beneficence.
But the exigencies of the times called into being hospitals not only for sick and wounded soldiers, but also for refugees; in fact, for any, who, on account of the war, were rendered helpless. And in order by association of ideas to give the greatest possible cheer to those congregated in them, they were called Homes. This name was full of tender suggestion, especially to all of English or Scandinavian blood.
The first Home established was for soldiers. It was on Walnut Street. It was opened in March, 1862. It was designated as a temporary rest for troops that had been discharged or furloughed. Since many of them had little or no money they were here gratuitously furnished with food and lodging. Those who were weak from sickness or wounds received the ministrations of skilful physicians and experienced nurses. They were also protected against sharpers, who, under the guise of friendship, would collect what little money might be due these war-worn heroes, and put it in their own pockets. Moreover, their intellectual, moral and spiritual wants were met in the Home. A reading-room was put into it. Many daily papers and religious journals came regularly to its table, while hundreds of volumes of good books placed upon its shelves allured the weary or convalescing soldiers to read.