LETTER II.
Lawson Hospital, St. Louis,
January 10.
Darling Mother,—I have received your last letter,
and glad enough was I to get it; it was delicious;
you would write twice a week, if you knew what a
longing I had for home news. I want to know everything
about everybody. And now for my news; I am
going to Dixie! Mr. Hasard came here day before
yesterday and asked me if I would go down the river
in the boat that was going to bring back the sick and
wounded from places along the river,—vicksburg, I believe,
—and other places. He wished me to go to take
charge of the other nurses, and of the linen-room, as
it is called,—that is, the place where supplies of different
kinds are kept,—and see to their giving out. The
principal reason he said he wanted me, was as a
trained surgical nurse. On coming up the river with
the wounded, there are not enough surgeons or nurses
to take care of all, and he wanted me, as I could dress
wounds and nurse, to go for that reason. He said he
thought I should do a great deal of good in that way.
He had evidently made up his mind about it. I
asked him what the surgeon who goes in charge of
the boat thought of it; he said that he wanted me to
go. This surgeon is a very fine one, I am told. It
is necessary he should be, as the post is a most responsible
one. I told Mr. Hasard I would do what
he and Dr. Alexander, the head surgeon here, thought
was best; I wished to do what was right in the matter.
The result was, that Dr. A. said that he would let me
go if he could have an experienced nurse sent him in
my place; this Mr. Hasard engaged to do. Mr. Hasard
is President of the Commission in which I am enlisted,
and orders all such things. He has been very
kind to me; so, I probably shall start in the "City of
Alton," and go down the river. I did not think it right
to refuse; and, indeed, I could not very well. My surgeons
both say they are sorry to have me go. One of
them told me to-night that my men told him I had
been like a mother to them; they do not want me to
leave them; but Mr. Hasard said that it was very difficult
to find a competent person to do what he wished
me to do, and he thought I should be of great use as
a nurse. I told him I was almost afraid I should not
be able to do as well as he wished. He replied that,
if he had not felt that I was the very person for the
work, he should not have placed me in such a position.
What will happen to me next I do not know; but, if
they suggest my going to California, I shall respectfully
decline.
I have been busy in my ward lately,—I have been
watching by death-beds. Some of my men have died,
they were so badly wounded. One of the last things
one of them said was to call for me; the surgeon had
sent me to do something for himself a few minutes
before. Two of them talked to me about their death
before they went; they were very quiet and peaceful.
They died in the night after I had left them; I cannot
sit up all night, for I must rest for the next day. The
night I sat by my men I had not my full night's rest.
I must go to bed now, for it is late. I wish I could
write all night to you, darling.
