Nurse and Spy in the Union Army. Edmonds Sarah Emma Evelyn

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      There were a great many pleasant things in connection with our camp hospital duties. I really enjoyed gratifying some of the whims and strange fancies of our poor convalescent boys, with whom I had become quite a favorite. As I would pass along through the hospital in the morning, I would generally have plenty of assistants in helping to make out my programme for the day. For one I had to write letters, read some particular book to another, and for a third I must catch some fish. I remember on one occasion of an old Dutchman, a typhoid convalescent, declaring that he could eat nothing until he could get some fresh fish, and of course I must procure them for him. “But,” said I, “the doctor must be consulted; perhaps he will not think it best for you to have any fish yet, until you are stronger.” “Vell, I dusn’t care for te toctor – he dusn’t know vat mine appetite ish – te feesh I must have. Oh, mine Cot! I must have some feesh.” And the old man wept like a child at the thought of being disappointed. “Hunter’s Creek” was about a mile and a half from camp, where Mr. and Mrs. B. and I had spent many an hour fishing and shooting at the flocks of wild ducks which frequented it; so, after providing myself with hook, line and bait, I made my way to the creek. Soon after I commenced operations I drew up a monstrous eel, which defied all my efforts to release the hook from its jaws. At last I was obliged to draw it into camp by means of the line – and I was amply repaid for my trouble on seeing the delight of the convalescents, and especially of my old Dutchman, who continued to slap his hands together and say – “Dhat ish coot – dhat ish coot.” The eel was handed over to the cook to be prepared for dinner, and to the great satisfaction of the Dutchman he was permitted to enjoy a portion of it.

      The army under McClellan began to assume a warlike aspect – perfect order and military discipline were observed everywhere among the soldiers. It was a splendid sight to see those well drilled troops on dress-parade – or being reviewed by their gallant young commander, upon whose shoulders the “stars” sat with so much grace and dignity.

      The monotony of camp life began to be broken up by armed reconnoissances and skirmishing between the pickets. Our lines were pushed forward to Lewinsville on the right, and to Munson’s Hill in front. The pickets of both armies were posted in plain sight of each other, only separated by the beautiful corn-fields and peach-orchards. Picket firing was kept up all along the lines on both sides, notwithstanding that flags of truce had been sent in by both parties, several times, requesting that this barbarous practice might cease.

      As soon as Mrs. B. was so far recovered as to be able to ride, we started one day, accompanied by Mr. B. and Dr. E., for Munson’s Hill, to see the pickets on duty. We rode along until we came within a short distance of the rifle pits where our men were, when the rebels fired upon us. We turned and rode back until we came to a clump of trees, where we dismounted, hitched our horses, and proceeded the rest of the way on foot – part of the way having to crouch along on our hands and knees, in order to escape the bullets which were whistling above us. We reached the rifle pits in safety, which were close to a rail fence, the rails of which were perfectly riddled with Minnie balls. While we sat there looking through an opera-glass, whiz! came a ball and struck the rail against which my head rested; glancing, it passed through Dr. E.’s cap and lodged in the shoulder of one of the men. We remained there until the firing ceased, then returned to camp, carrying with us the wounded man.

      Picket duty is one of the most perilous and trying duties connected with the service. A clergyman-soldier writing upon this subject, briefly describes it: “Picket duty at all times is arbitrary, but at night it is trebly so. No monarch on a throne, with absolute power, is more independent, or exercises greater sway for the time being, than a private soldier stationed on his beat with an enemy in front. Darkness veils all distinctions. He is not obliged to know his own officers or comrades, or the commanding general, only through the means of the countersign. With musket loaded and capped he walks his rounds, having to do with matters only of life and death, and at the same time clothed with absolute power. It is a position of fearful importance and responsibility, one that makes a man feel solemn and terribly in earnest. Often, too, these posts are in thick woods, where the soldier stands alone, cut off from camp, cut off from his fellows, subject only to the harrassings of his own imagination and sense of danger. The shadows deepen into inky night; all objects around him, even the little birds that were his companions during the day, are gathered within the curtains of a hushed repose; but the soldier, with every nerve and faculty of his mind strained to the utmost tension of keenness and sensibility, speaks only in whispers; his fingers tighten round the stock of his musket as he leans forward to catch the sound of approaching footsteps, or, in absence of danger, looks longingly up to the cold, grey sky, with its wealth of shining stars.”

      Yes, the picket is exposed to danger constantly, and to various kinds of danger. He knows not what moment a lurking foe may spring upon him from the darkness, or a bullet from a scout or sharpshooter may reach him at any time. Then, too, he is exposed to the raging elements – heat and cold, rain and snow; no matter whether in the depths of the forest, or in the open plain, or in the rifle-pit standing in water knee deep, the poor picket must not heed the storm, but keep both eyes and ears open to catch the slightest sound. After severe marches, when the men are greatly fatigued, and it seems almost impossible to perform any more duty without rest and sleep, some, of course, are sent on picket duty, while the rest are permitted to sleep. Oh, how my heart has ached for those men; and it seemed to me that the persons and regiments in which I was most interested always had the most picket duty to perform.

      On the 14th of March General McClellan issued an address to the army of the Potomac, announcing the reasons why they had been so long unemployed. The battle of Bull Run was fought in July, 1861. It was now March, 1862, and during this interval the army of the Potomac, numbering some two hundred and fifty thousand men, had been inactive, excepting their daily drills behind their entrenchments. The flags of the enemy were in sight. Washington was in a state of siege, and not a transport could ascend the river without running the gauntlet of the rebel batteries. In his address General McClellan announced the reasons for their inactivity as follows:

      “Soldiers of the Army of the Potomac: For a long time I have kept you inactive, but not without a purpose. You were to be disciplined, armed and instructed. The formidable artillery you now have had to be created. Other armies were to move and accomplish certain results. I have held you back that you might give the death-blow to the rebellion that has distracted our once happy country. The patience you have shown, and your confidence in your General, are worth a dozen victories. These preliminary results are now accomplished. I feel that the patient labors of many months have produced their fruit. The army of the Potomac is now a real army, magnificent in material, admirable in discipline and instruction, excellently equipped and armed. Your commanders are all that I could wish. The moment for action has arrived, and I know that I can trust in you to save our country. The period of inaction has passed. I will bring you now face to face with the rebels, and only pray that God may defend the right.”

      Marching orders were issued once more to the army of the Potomac. The sick were sent off, camps broken up, and all stood prepared for another encounter with the enemy. The bitter remembrance of the defeat at Bull Run still rankled in the minds of the men, and now they were anxious for an opportunity to retaliate upon the foe, and win back the laurels they had so ingloriously lost upon that disastrous field. Various speculations were indulged in with regard to their destination. One prophesied that they were going to Richmond by way of Fredericksburg, another was positive that they were to go by the way of Manassas, and a third declared that it was down the Shenandoah valley to take Richmond on the flank and rear; but, to the utter astonishment of all, they were ordered to Alexandria to embark for Fortress Monroe. Regiment after regiment was huddled together on board until every foot of room was occupied, and there remained but little prospect of comfort for either officers or men.

      As soon as each transport received its cargo of men, horses and provisions, it floated out into the stream, while another steamed up to the wharf in its place, until the whole fleet lay side by side, freighted with over a hundred thousand human lives, and awaiting the signal to weigh anchor. The troops were eager for a campaign; they had lain inactive СКАЧАТЬ