Woman's Work in the Civil War: A Record of Heroism, Patriotism, and Patience

by L. P. Brockett; Mary C. Vaughan

On one occasion, visiting one of the wards containing the badly wounded men, at nearly eleven o'clock, A. M., she found that the assistant surgeon, in charge of that ward, who had been out on a drunken spree the night before, and had slept very late, had not yet made out the special diet list for the ward, and the men, faint and hungry, had had no breakfast. She denounced him at once in the strongest terms, and as he came in, and with an attempt at jollity inquired, "Hoity-toity, what's the matter?" she turned upon him with "Matter enough, you miserable scoundrel! Here these men, any one of them worth a thousand of you, are suffered to starve and die, because you want to be off upon a drunk! Pull off your shoulder-straps," she continued, as he tried feebly to laugh off her reproaches, "pull off your shoulder-straps, for you shall not stay in the army a week longer." The surgeon still laughed, but he turned pale, for he knew her power. She was as good as her word. Within three days she had caused his discharge. He went to headquarters and asked to be reinstated. Major-General Sherman, who was then in command, listened patiently, and then inquired who had procured his discharge. "I was discharged in consequence of misrepresentation," answered the surgeon, evasively. "But who caused your discharge?" persisted the general. "Why," said the surgeon, hesitatingly, "I suppose it was that woman, that Mrs. Bickerdyke." "Oh!" said Sherman, "well, if it was her, I can do nothing for you. She ranks me."

We may say in this connection, that the commanding generals of the armies in which Mrs. Bickerdyke performed her labors, Generals Sherman, Hurlburt, Grant, and Sherman again, in his great march, having become fully satisfied how invaluable she was in her care of the private soldiers, were always ready to listen to her appeals and to grant her requests. She was, in particular, a great favorite with both Grant and Sherman, and had only to ask for anything she needed to get it, if it was within the power of the commander to obtain it. It should be said in justice to her, that she never asked anything for herself, and that her requests were always for something that would promote the welfare of the men.

Some months after the discharge of the assistant surgeon, the surgeon in charge of the hospital, who was a martinet in discipline, and somewhat irritated for some cause, resolved, in order to annoy her, to compel the discharge of the negro nurses and attendants, and require her to employ convalescent soldiers, as the other hospitals were doing. For this purpose he procured from the medical director an order that none but convalescent soldiers should be employed as nurses in the Memphis hospitals. The order was issued, probably, without any knowledge of the annoyance it was intended to cause Mrs. Bickerdyke. It was to take effect at nine o'clock the following morning. Mrs. Bickerdyke heard of it just at night. The Gayoso Hospital was nearly three-fourths of a mile from headquarters. It was raining heavily, and the mud was deep; but she was not the woman to be thwarted in her plans by a hospital surgeon, without a struggle; so, nothing daunted, she sallied out, having first had the form of an order drawn up, permitting the employment of contrabands as nurses, at the Gayoso Hospital. Arrived at headquarters, she was told that the commanding general, Sherman's successor, was ill and could not be seen. Suspecting that his alleged illness was only another name for over-indulgence in strong drink, she insisted that she must and would see him, and in spite of the objections of his staff-officers, forced her way to his room, and finding him in bed, roused him partially, propped him up, put a pen in his hand, and made him sign the order she had brought. This done, she returned to her hospital, and the next morning, when the surgeon and medical director came around to enforce the order of the latter, she quietly handed them the order of the commanding-general, permitting her to retain her contrabands.

While in charge of this hospital, she made several journeys to Chicago and other cities of the Northwest, to procure aid for the suffering soldiers. The first of these were characteristic of her energy and resolution. She had found great difficulty in procuring, in the vicinity of Memphis, the milk, butter, and eggs needed for her hospital. She had foraged from the secessionists, had traded with them her own clothing and whatever else she could spare, for these necessaries for her "boys," until there was nothing more left to trade. The other hospitals were in about the same condition. She resolved, therefore, to have a dairy for the hospitals. Going among the farmers of Central Illinois, she begged two hundred cows and a thousand hens, and returned in triumph with her flock of hens and her drove of cows. On reaching Memphis, her cattle and fowls made such a lowing and cackling, that the secessionists of the city entered their complaints to the commanding general, who assigned her an island in the Mississippi, opposite the city, where her dairy and hennery were comfortably accommodated. It was we believe, while on this expedition that, at the request of Mrs. Hoge and Mrs. Livermore, the Associate Managers of the Northwestern Sanitary Commission, she visited Milwaukie, Wisconsin. The Ladies' Aid Society of that city had memorialized their Chamber of Commerce to make an appropriation to aid them in procuring supplies for the wounded soldiers, and were that day to receive the reply of the chamber.

Mrs. Bickerdyke went with the ladies, and the President of the Chamber, in his blandest tones, informed them that the Chamber of Commerce had considered their request, but that they had expended so much recently in fitting out a regiment, that they thought they must be excused from making any contributions to the Ladies' Aid Society. Mrs. Bickerdyke asked the privilege of saying a few words in the way of answer. For half an hour she held them enchained while she described, in simple but eloquent language, the life of the private soldier, his privations and sufferings, the patriotism which animated him, and led him to endure, without murmuring, hardships, sickness, and even death itself, for his country. She contrasted this with the sordid love of gain which not only shrank from these sacrifices in person, but grudged the pittance necessary to alleviate them, while it made the trifling amount it had already contributed, an excuse for making no further donations, and closed with this forcible denunciation: "And you, merchants and rich men of Milwaukie, living at your ease, dressed in your broad-cloth, knowing little and caring less for the sufferings of these soldiers from hunger and thirst, from cold and nakedness, from sickness and wounds, from pain and death, all incurred that you may roll in wealth, and your homes and little ones be safe; you will refuse to give aid to these poor soldiers, because, forsooth, you gave a few dollars some time ago to fit out a regiment! Shame on you—you are not men—you are cowards—go over to Canada—this country has no place for such creatures!" The Chamber of Commerce was not prepared for such a rebuke, and they reconsidered their action, and made an appropriation at once to the Ladies' Aid Society.

Immediately after the surrender of Vicksburg, Mrs. Bickerdyke surrendered her hospital at Memphis into other hands, and went thither to care for the wounded. She accompanied Sherman's corps in their expedition to Jackson, and amid all the hardships and exposures of the field, ministered to the sick and wounded. Cooking for them in the open air, under the burning sun and the heavy dews, she was much exposed to the malarious fevers of that sickly climate, but her admirable constitution enabled her to endure fatigue and exposure, better even than most of the soldiers. Though always neat and cleanly in person, she was indifferent to the attractions of dress, and amid the flying sparks from her fires in the open air, her calico dresses would often take fire, and as she expressed it, "the soldiers would put her out," i. e. extinguish the sparks which were burning her dresses. In this way it happened that she had not a single dress which had not been more or less riddled by these sparks. With her clothing in this plight she visited Chicago again late in the summer of 1863, and the ladies of the Sanitary Commission replenished her wardrobe, and soon after sent her a box of excellent clothing for her own use. Some of the articles in this box, the gift of those who admired her earnest devotion to the interests of the soldiers, were richly wrought and trimmed. Among these were two elegant night dresses, trimmed with ruffles and lace. On receiving the box, Mrs. Bickerdyke, who was again for the time in charge of a hospital, reserving for herself only a few of the plainest and cheapest articles, traded off the remainder, except the two night dresses, with the rebel women of the vicinity, for butter, eggs, and other delicacies for her sick soldiers, and as she purposed going to Cairo soon, and thought that the night dresses would bring more for the same purpose in Tennessee or Kentucky, she reserved them to be traded on her journey. On her way, however, at one of the towns on the Mobile and Ohio railroad, she found two poor fellows who had been discharged from some of the hospitals with their wounds not yet fully healed, and their exertions in traveling had caused them to break out afresh. Here they were, in a miserable shanty, sick, bleeding, hungry, penniless, and with only their soiled clothing. Mrs. Bickerdyke at once took them in hand. Washing their wounds and staunching the blood, she tore off the lower portions of the night dresses for bandages, and as the men had no shirts, she arrayed them in the remainder of these dresses, ruffles, lace, and all. The soldiers modestly demurred a little at the ruffles and lace, but Mrs. Bickerdyke suggested to them that if any inquiries were made, they could say that they had been plundering the secessionists.

Visiting Chicago at this time, she was again invited to Milwaukie, and went with the ladies to the Chamber of Commerce. Here she was very politely received, and the President informed her that the Chamber feeling deeply impressed with the good work, she and the other ladies were doing in behalf of the soldiers, had voted a contribution of twelve hundred dollars a month to the Ladies' Aid Society. Mrs. Bickerdyke was not, however, disposed to tender them the congratulations, to which perhaps they believed themselves entitled for their liberality. "You believe yourselves very generous, no doubt, gentlemen," she said, "and think that because you have voted this pretty sum, you are doing all that is required of you. But I have in my hospital a hundred poor soldiers who have done more than any of you. Who of you would contribute a leg, an arm, or an eye, instead of what you have done? How many hundred or thousand dollars would you consider an equivalent for either? Don't deceive yourselves, gentlemen. The poor soldier who has given an arm, a leg, or an eye to his country (and many of them have given more than one) has given more than you have or can. How much more, then, he who has given his life? No! gentlemen, you must set your standard higher yet or you will not come up to the full measure of liberality in giving."

On her return to the South Mrs. Bickerdyke spent a few weeks at Huntsville, Alabama, in charge of a hospital, and then joined Sherman's Fifteenth Corps in their rapid march toward Chattanooga. It will be remembered that Sherman's Corps, or rather the Army of the Tennessee which he now commanded were hurried into action immediately on their arrival at Chattanooga. To them was assigned the duty of making the attack against that portion of the enemy who were posted on the northern termination of Mission Ridge, and the persistent assaults on Fort Buckner were attended with severe slaughter, though they made the victory elsewhere possible. The Field Hospital of the Fifteenth Army Corps was situated on the north bank of the Genesee River, on a slope at the base of Mission Ridge, where after the struggle was over seventeen hundred of our wounded and exhausted soldiers were brought. Mrs. Bickerdyke reached there before the din and smoke of battle were well over, and before all were brought from the field of blood and carnage. There she remained the only female attendant for four weeks. The supplies she had been able to bring with her soon gave out, but Dr. Newberry, the Western Secretary of the Sanitary Commission, presently arrived with an ample supply which she used freely.

The Field Hospital was in a forest, about five miles from Chattanooga; wood was abundant, and the camp was warmed by immense burning log heaps, which were the only fire-places or cooking-stoves of the camp or hospitals. Men were detailed to fell the trees and pile the logs to heat the air, which was very wintry. Beside these fires Mrs. Bickerdyke made soup and toast, tea and coffee, and broiled mutton without a gridiron, often blistering her fingers in the process. A house in due time was demolished to make bunks for the worst cases, and the bricks from the chimney were converted into an oven, where Mrs. Bickerdyke made bread, yeast having been found in the Chicago boxes, and flour at a neighboring mill which had furnished flour to secessionists through the war until that time. Great multitudes were fed from these rude kitchens, and from time to time other conveniences were added and the labor made somewhat less exhausting. After four weeks of severe toil all the soldiers who were able to leave were furloughed home, and the remainder, about nine hundred, brought to a more comfortable Field Hospital, two miles from Chattanooga. In this hospital Mrs. Bickerdyke continued her work, being joined, New Year's eve, by Mrs. Eliza C. Porter, who thenceforward was her constant associate, both being employed by the Northwestern Sanitary Commission to attend to this work of special field relief in that army. Mrs. Porter says that when she arrived there it was very cold, and the wind which had followed a heavy rain was very piercing, overturning some of the hospital tents and causing the inmates of all to tremble with cold and anxious fear. Mrs. Bickerdyke was going from tent to tent in the gale carrying hot bricks and hot drinks to warm and cheer the poor fellows. It was touching to see the strong attachment the soldiers felt for her. "She is a power of good," said one soldier. "We fared mighty poor till she came here," said another. "God bless the Sanitary Commission," said a third, "for sending women among us." True to her attachment to the private soldiers, Mrs. Bickerdyke early sought an interview with General Grant, and told him in her plain way, that the surgeons in some of the hospitals were great rascals, and neglected the men shamefully; and that unless they were removed and faithful men put in their places, he would lose hundreds and perhaps thousands of his veteran soldiers whom he could ill afford to spare. "You must not," she said, "trust anybody's report in this matter, but see to it yourself. Disguise yourself so that the surgeons or men won't know you, and go around to the hospitals and see for yourself how the men are neglected."

"But, Mrs. Bickerdyke," said the general, "that is the business of my medical director, he must attend to that. I can't see to everything in person."