Part 37 (2/2)
I got down from my porch on the stairs, came forward and said:
”It is my orders, sir, and I am sorry, but this is really all we can do for you. If your men have tin cups, each one can have a cup of warm soup--it will not be very hot--or a cup of warm coffee. Those who get soup will get no coffee, and those who get coffee can have no soup. You can get tin cups from the commissary, and should have them ready, so that the food will not cool.”
While I made this statement he stood regarding me with ineffable disdain, and when I was through inquired:
”Who are you?”
”I am the cook!”
”The cook!” he repeated, contemptuously. ”I will report your insolence when we reach Was.h.i.+ngton!”
”That may be your duty; but I will send up the coffee and soup, and do you get the tin cups.”
He stamped off in dudgeon, and others who heard him were highly indignant; but I was greatly pleased to find a surgeon who would get angry and raise a disturbance on behalf of his patients. I never knew his name, but if this should meet his eye I trust he will accept my thanks for his faithfulness to his charge.
On the lower deck, behind the boilers, lay twenty wounded prisoners, who at first looked sulky; but as I was stepping over and among them, one caught my dress, looked up pleadingly, and said:
”Mother, can't you get me some soft bread? I can't eat this hard-tack.”
He was young, scarce more than a boy; had large, dark eyes, a good head--tokens of gentle nurture--and alas! a thigh stump. He told me he was of a Mississippi regiment, and his name Willie Gibbs. I bathed his hot face, and said I would see about the bread; then went to another part of the deck, where our men were very closely packed, and stated the case to them. There was very little soft bread--it was theirs by right; what should I do? I think they all spoke at once, and all said the same words:
”Oh, mother! give the Johnnies the soft bread! we can eat hard-tack!”
I think I was impartial, but there was a temptation to give Willie Gibbs a little more than his share of attention. His face was so sad, and there was so little hope that he would ever again see those who loved him, that I think I did more for him than for any other one on board.
His companions came to call me ”mother,” and I hope felt their captivity softened by my care; and often rebel hands supported me while I crouched at work.
When we approached Was.h.i.+ngton, I proposed rewarding the cook for the incalculable service she had rendered, but she replied:
”No, ma'am, I will not take anything from you 'cept that ap.r.o.n! When we get to Was.h.i.+ngton, you will not want it any more, an' I'll keep it all my life to remember you, and leave it to my children! Lord! there isn't another lady in the world could 'a done what you've done; an' I know you're a lady! Them women with the fine clothes is trying to pa.s.s for ladies, but, Lord! I know no lady 'u'd dress up that way in a place like this, an' men know it, too--just look at you, an' how you do make them fellers in shoulderstraps stand 'round!”
Her observation showed her Southern culture, for whatever supremacy the North may have over the South, Southern ladies are far in advance of those of the North in the art of dress. A Southern lady seldom commits an incongruity, or fails to dress according to age, weather, and the occasion. I do not think any one of any social standing would have gone among wounded men, with the idea of rendering any a.s.sistance, tricked out in finery, as hundreds, if not thousands, of respectable Northern women did.
The ap.r.o.n which I gave to my friend the cook, was brown gingham, had seen hard service, and cost, originally, ten cents, and half an hour's hand-sewing; but if it aids her to remember me as pleasantly as I do her, it is part of a bond of genuine friends.h.i.+p.
CHAPTER LXXVII.
TRY TO GET UP A SOCIETY AND GET SICK.
After two days in bed at home, I was so much better, that when Mrs.
Ingersol came with a plan for organizing a society to furnish the army with female nurses, I went to see Mrs. Lincoln about it. She was willing to cooperate, and I went to Secretary Stanton, who heard me, and replied:
”You must know that Mrs. Barlow and Mrs. Ingersol and you are not fair representatives of your s.e.x,” and went on to explain the embarra.s.sment of the Surgeon-General from the thousands of women pressing their services upon the Government, and the various political influences brought to bear on behalf of applicants, and of the well grounded opposition of surgeons to the presence of women in hospitals, on account of their general unfitness. Gen. Scott, as a personal friend of Miss Dix, had appointed her to the place she held, and it was so convenient and respectful to refer people to her, that the War Department would not interfere with the arrangement. In other words, she was a break-water against which feminine sympathies could dash and splash without submerging the hospital service.
After what I had seen among the women who had succeeded in getting in, I had not much to say. A society might prescribe a dress, but might be no more successful than Miss Dix in making selections of those who should wear it.
I asked the Secretary how it came that no better provision had been made for our wounded after the battle of the Wilderness, and tears sprang to his eyes as he replied:
”We did not know where they were. We had made every arrangement at the points designated by Gen. Grant, but he changed his plans and did not notify us. The whole army was cut off from its base of supplies and must be sustained. As soon as we knew the emergency, we did everything in our power; but all our preparations were lost. Everything had to be done over again. You cannot regret the suffering more than I, but it was impossible for me to prevent it.”
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