 | MISS AMY M. BRADLEY. Women of the war : |  |
MISS AMY M. BRADLEY.
MISS BRADLEY'S work of charity and self-sacrifice
commenced on the 1st of September, 1861, a few
weeks after the first battle on Manassas Plains. The
sufferings of our sick and wounded had not then sent their
strong appeal to the hearts of the noble and the charitable
all over the land. She went out to seek as well as to save.
Her first position in the army was as nurse in the third
Maine volunteers. She left East Cambridge, in Massachusetts,
on the 28th of August, and entered upon that long
series of labors for the soldiers — labors that varied with the
demands of the hour, and with the shifting scenes of war;
labors which took in the whole welfare of our suffering
patriots, and met their calls for aid in every form.
Her early experience in the army was by no means
repulsive. She was fortunate in her associations, for
the colonel of the third Maine was at that time O. O.
Howard, that Christian gentleman and Christian soldier,
the Havelock of the war. She found the journey over the
road, where so many of our brave men had so recently
passed, pleasant and full of interest. Arriving in Washington,
she started at four in the afternoon for the scene of
her duty.
"Very pleasant," she writes, "did I find the ride along
white tents of our army, and protected by forts Runyon,
Jackson, and Ellsworth, the latter being near our encampment.
Twilight found me safe with the regiment, and
surrounded by old familiar faces.
"It was tea time, and the band was playing a lively
national air. I was ushered into the tent by our worthy
surgeon, and introduced to Colonel Howard, the lieutenant-colonel,
the adjutant, Mrs. Sampson the matron, and Miss
Graves, who, like myself, is a nurse in the hospital.
"When we were seated at the table Colonel Howard
meekly bowed his head and asked our Father's blessing
upon the food before us. What, thought I, is this the
rough life of the camp, which has so often been pictured
to me? It reminds me more of a camp-meeting, only more
quiet."
Her work commenced almost immediately upon her arrival,
on the 1st of September. "I shall not soon forget
that day," she has written in her hospital journal. "Dr.
Palmer called at my tent in the morning, — a bright, sunshiny
Sabbath morning, — and asked me if I would like to
accompany him through the hospital tents. My hat was
quickly donned, and we started. He was intending to
select some of the sickest ones, that morning, to be sent to
the General Hospital at Alexandria.
"There were four large hospital tents, filled with fever
cases, resulting from exposure at the long-to-be-remembered
battle of Bull Run. They were lying on mattresses placed on
the ground. How sick they looked! No comfortable beds
or soft pillows. It was terrible to see! We passed through
the second were sufferers very delirious. These the surgeon
proposed sending to Alexandria. As we stood by the
side of one poor fellow, I spoke to him. He looked up
with a lost expression, as though he never heard that voice
before. `Would you like to have anything?' said I. He
looked up wildly, as before, and supposing that he was to
start on some journey, said, `I would like to see my
mother and my sisters before I go home.' I burst into
tears, and said, `Please, doctor, do not send him away, but
let me take care of him for his mother and sisters until he
goes home!' for I knew by his looks he could live but a
few days. So it was decided that he should remain, the
doctor saying, `If that is what you came for, we will give
you plenty of work. I have another boy in a similar condition
in another tent. I will have him brought in here,
and you may take care of him for his mother. If he lives,
you shall have the credit of saving him.'
"Thus I commenced my work. William (whom I had
known when a boy, in Gardiner, Maine) lived; but my
first patient, young Campbell, died a few days after.
"All the worst cases of fever were brought to me; and,
from the first drum-beat in the morning till the last at
night, I was busy enough, and very happy to know that I
was able to alleviate the sufferings of many.
"At the end of September Colonel Howard was promoted
to brigadier-general, and Dr. Palmer to a brigade
surgeon. Dr. Brickett was made surgeon of the fifth
Maine volunteers, and I was transferred with him. I had
been two weeks with the regiment, and had got the hospital
two or three dozen of bed-cots; and I, availing myself of
an offer in a note Mr. F. N. Knapp wrote me soon after I
arrived in the third Maine, had drawn bedding, pillows,
dressing-gowns, jellies, &c., from the Sanitary Commission,
when General Slocum came to visit the hospital. `How is
this, Dr. Brickett,' said he, `that your boys are so much
more comfortable than those of the other regiments in the
brigade?' `O,' said the doctor, `we have got a Maine
woman here who understands how to take care of the sick.
She has drawn these things from the Sanitary Commission,
and has arranged the whole with some of the nurses' assistance.'
`I can't have any partiality in my brigade,' said the
general. `Give my compliments to Miss Bradley, doctor,
and tell her I should be happy to have her take charge of
the sick of the brigade. I will take the Powell House and
the Octagon House, that are empty, a short distance from
here, where we will move them all; and tell her I would
like to have her go there and make a home for my boys.'
"Of course I accepted. Did it not widen my sphere of
usefulness? How grateful I was to our kind-hearted general
for allowing me the privilege of caring for his boys!
The surgeons immediately made requisitions for iron bedsteads,
straw bed-ticks, — about seventy-five, the number
our two houses would hold, — and I made another requisition,
on the United States Sanitary Commission, for
quilts, blankets, sheets, pillow-cases, shirts, drawers, towels,
&c. As the government had made no arrangements
for brigade hospitals, supposing the sick from the various
regiments would be sent to general hospitals, these things
hospital like ours; and here I learned, as early as November,
1861, that a Commission like this was necessary as an
auxiliary to government, and could be the means of mitigating
a vast amount of suffering, and saving very many
valuable lives."
On the 15th October the sick from the various regiments
were conveyed to the places designated by the commander
of the brigade, and there Miss Bradley established her headquarters,
taking with her two boys from the fifth Maine —
one to act as orderly, and the other to cook. She found a
negro family living in a cabin in the rear, and old Aunt
Hagar agreed to furnish milk, and do the washing for the
hospital. The boys from the different regiments, detailed
to carry out her wishes, commenced their work in earnest,
and soon this "Home," the first established in any part of
the army, assumed an appearance of comfort and cheerfulness.
The Powell House was just across the road from the first
encampment of the third Maine, and there commenced Miss
Bradley's experience as hospital nurse. A peculiarity of
her service from the first was the deep personal interest she
felt in her patients. Her feeling towards a sick soldier was
not that, here is suffering that I can alleviate, or, here is one
of our brave defenders to be made well as soon as possible
and sent to the front again; but, this is my boy Charley; I
think I can save him; he over there is George —; he is
very sick, but if nursing can save him, he shall not die.
Of the patients in the first little hospital at the Powell
House she speaks thus: —
"In the room at my right are six very ill. Do you see
their pale faces? Three have typhoid fever: the two so
emaciated have passed the crisis, and he with the large
blue eyes has congestion of the lungs. How my heart
aches for them! In the room opposite are four, three from
the Mozart regiment; and that shadowy form, the fourth,
has been my patient since my arrival, one month ago. He
is rapidly recovering, after having been reduced very low
with typhoid fever. Sometimes I am a little sad that I am
left behind, and surrounded by strange regiments; but it is
only momentary, for I note the light which beams in the
faces of the sick ones as I enter the room."
This hospital was in operation all winter till the 15th of
March, when the brigade was ordered to move on to Centreville,
that place having been evacuated by the rebels.
During this time Miss Bradley kept a private record of all
the patients, and particularly of each death that occurred,
and she seems to have taken a personal and vivid interest
in a great number of the sick.
The first death that occurred was in November. Of
the circumstances that attended the decease she speaks thus
feelingly: —
"My first patient, Charles G. Nichols, died of diphtheria.
I feel very sad. I did not count on losing any of my boys;
but alas! the best of nursing cannot save them. His
disease was too far advanced before he came into the hospital.
He suffered very much, and was loath to have me
leave him for a moment. He could not lie down at all.
The night he died I talked with him about his coming dissolution.
He seemed willing to depart. He had been a
his friends, I found his mother was own cousin to my
brother-in-law, and that I visited her, with my sister and
her husband, the year before I came out. How strange that
I should be the one to minister to him, and to be able to
care for him, and make his last hours as happy as possible!
They have voted in our regiment to raise money enough to
send home the body of every one who dies. We have had
our Charley nicely packed in salt and saltpetre. There is a
hot-house near by; so I have purchased some delicate
flowers, and placed them around his pale face. How
beautiful he looks asleep in death! We shall meet again.
I have telegraphed to his friends in Damariscotta, Maine,
as I found letters from them among his effects."
A few days after she makes the following entry in her
journal, which throws a flood of light upon the character
and the motives of the writer: —
"Many are the letters I write for the dear soldiers under
my care, to their friends; and deep, earnest, heart-letters
do I receive in return, filled with thankfulness that I am
permitted to watch over them. But methinks there is not
one among them who feels more thankful than does Amy
herself. How happy I am in the performance of my
duties! Although I suffer fearfully in losing a patient,
still I am glad that my Father gives me strength from day
to day to administer to their wants, and cheer them in the
absence of nearer friends. I lost several dear boys the
month I was in the third regiment of Maine volunteers."
One of these "dear boys," whose life she labored to save
with as much assiduity as if he had been an only brother,
death is so touching, and so admirably illustrates the character
of Miss Bradley, that we give the affecting story
entire, as she wrote it in her journal at the time. He
belonged to company C of the fifth Maine regiment. "He
was sick several weeks; disease, typhoid-pneumonia. He
was a darling boy, so patient when he suffered so much!
How his great blue eyes would brighten when I opened the
door to enter his room! Once, I remember, I had been
gone all day to the Octagon House (where a large number
from the sixteenth New York are sick). When I returned
it was evening; I immediately went to see my sickest
patients. When I asked him `if they had taken good care
of him in my absence,' he answered, `Yes, but not as good
care as you do.' And when I said, `Why not?' he
answered, while a faint smile irradiated his heavenly countenance,
`They don't love me as well as you do.' True,
too true is it, that after having watched and cared for them
so long, I love them as if they were my own children.
Poor fellows! why shouldn't I love them? Away from
every fond heart, how they do yearn for sympathy and
kind words! A soldier's life is a hard one, and woe be
unto me if I do not strive to alleviate their sufferings, and
make them feel that one heart is full of pity and love
towards them. I am almost sick from the loss of this dear
child; I felt that I could not give him up. For fifteen days
after the surgeons said he could not live the day out, I kept
him alive by giving him nourishment and stimulants, or,
as Dr. Burr called it, `giving him doses of stick-to-him.'
That day he was in great distress, so that his groans could
the finger-nails, and the doctors said mortification was
taking place in the bowels. I cried bitterly, and said I
could not have him die. When he would look up with his
great eyes and say, `Don't cry for me, don't cry!' I was
almost distracted. I prepared mustard, and covered his
bowels, wrist, and feet, and gave him brandy frequently,
when, to the surprise of all, the pain subsided, his feet and
hands became warm again, and the doctors, when they
came next morning, were astonished to find him alive and
apparently better. Fifteen days after that he lived; but
vain were my efforts! Dr. Brickett said his lungs were
entirely broken down. Human skill or kindness could not
save him. He died! — and another link bound me to the
spirit world. Beautiful in life, in death his countenance
was almost seraphic. A more finely moulded face I have
never seen; a broad, high forehead, nose purely Grecian,
with an exquisite mouth and chin. Flowers the most rare
were thickly strewn around the body. He looked too
beautiful to lay away in the dust; but such is the decree.
The funeral ceremony was most affecting. The entire company,
with the band, attended the corpse to the express,
and my beautiful adopted boy was sent to his own mother.
Did she feel worse than Amy did?"
On the 10th of March the brigade was ordered to Centreville.
Five days after the hospital was broken up, and
the patients moved, some to Alexandria and some to Fairfax
Seminary.
Early in April Miss Bradley went forward with the division
to Warrenton Junction. After various adventures, —
she remained about a week at Manassas, and on the 13th
the order came to return to Alexandria and proceed to
Yorktown.
During the two weeks that followed, "long, dreary
weeks," she calls them, she was awaiting orders to proceed
with the command to Yorktown, at the end of which
time she offered her services to the Sanitary Commission.
On the 2d of May she went to Washington, and found Mr.
F. L. Olmstead, of the Commission, had gone to Yorktown.
She saw Dr. Jenkins, and hoped her offer would be accepted.
The doctor telegraphed at once, and on the
afternoon of Sunday, the 4th of May, the message came:
"Send her to Yorktown immediately." On the day following
she took the cars for Baltimore, stopped at the Eutaw
House, and embarked for Fortress Monroe, in company
with a party of surgeons and dressers. Miss Dix was on the
same boat. The day following they were at Fortress Monroe,
and the day after Miss Bradley was made lady
superintendent of the floating hospital Ocean Queen, which
had been assigned to the use of the Commission. She took
on board about a thousand patients. Several ladies were
designated to assist her in the labor of nursing and care for
so many sufferers on their way to New York, among whom,
as very efficient workers, Miss Bradley mentions Mrs.
Hyde and her lovely daughter Estelle. This cargo of suffering
humanity was taken to New York; from thence the
sickest were transferred to Bedlow Island, and the others
to the General Hospital.
On the 21st of May she had returned to White House, and
ladies, among whom were Miss Gardner, Miss Wheddon,
Mrs. Strong, and Mrs. Balustier, engaged in the work of
relief. Here commenced the most strenuous and the most
painful service she had as yet seen. For the crowded and
tragic days that followed, when the magnificent army of
McClellan was being trailed through the mire of the Chickahominy,
and pounded to pieces in the seven days' battles,
the journal of Miss Bradley is very full, and gives an
excellent picture of her labors, and the spirit in which they
were performed.
"For several days," she writes, "we had been working
admirably on the Elm City, when, about nine o'clock of the
26th of May, we received orders to transfer all our patients
and stores to the steamboats L. R. Spaulding and Knickerbocker,
as the quartermaster must have our boat immediately.
The night was dark, but orders must be obeyed:
the majority of the sick were conveyed to the Spaulding,
some twenty of the feeblest to the Knickerbocker, and the
next day the Spaulding started with her freight of human
souls for New York, taking some of our best nurses with
her. Mrs. Balustier, Miss Gardner, and myself were transferred
to the Knickerbocker. Here we found Mr. Olmstead,
Mr. Knapp, Mrs. Howland, Miss Woolsey, Miss
Wormley, Miss Gilson, from Chelsea, Massachusetts, and
others. Mrs. Balustier and I had a consultation, and concluded
our services would not be needed there: so we
decided to ask permission to go ashore, and work among
the thousands left by the army as it advances. Mr. Knapp
arrangements for us to work for the sickest ones.
"Wednesday, May 28, was ashore all day; carried some
canned chicken, some crackers, some brandy, cologne, &c.,
and distributed them amongst the sickest. Returned to the
boat towards evening, when, as I went aboard, I met Mr.
Olmstead, who told me he wished me to take charge of the
Knickerbocker, and put her in order to receive wounded
men from the battle of Fair Oaks. I objected; he insisted,
and, of course, carried his point, as he was to decide all
things, being at the head of this enterprise.
"The next morning, the 29th, Mr. Olmstead and his party
returned to the Wilson Small. The Knickerbocker was in
a very filthy condition, and there were several state-rooms
filled with soiled clothes, that were exceedingly offensive.
The surgeon in charge, Dr. Swan, requested me to arrange
matters to suit myself, furnishing me with all aid necessary.
First, then, these clothes must be counted and sent ashore
to be washed; four girls (colored) to be hired to wash on
board the boat, so that no more should accumulate. Done.
Second, see the captain of the boat, and have the crew,
with the assistance of attendants, clean the boat. They
went to work with a will. Mr. Knapp promised me bedcots
to fill the saloon on the main deck and lower one;
promptly they were sent. There was a large quantity of
clothing on board: this I arranged myself, so that I could
know where to find each article needed. Meantime Mrs.
Balustier left for home, sick, and Mrs. Annie Etheridge,
of the third Michigan, reported for duty. How faithfully
she labored! We divided a little saloon at the forward
the other, making two rooms, the one occupied by the
surgeon and his staff, the other by us.
"Sunday, June 1, found us nearly ready, our boat clean,
our beds set up, and clothing arranged in order. About
four P. M. the wounded began to arrive. I shall never
forget my feelings, as, one by one, those mutilated forms
were brought in on stretchers, and carefully placed on those
comfortable cots. `What,' said I, `must I see human beings
thus mangled? O, my God, why is it? why is it?' For
nearly an hour I could not control my feelings. But when
the surgeon said, `Miss Bradley, you must not do so, but
prepare to assist these poor fellows,' I realized that tears
must be choked back, and the heart only know its own
suffering! Action was the watchword of the hour. Then
Amy was herself again. We received more than three
hundred, some very badly wounded. One poor fellow,
shot through the bowels, suffered the most excruciating
torture, calling constantly for water: his thirst seemed insatiable.
He died before morning.
"It was past midnight before they were all fed and composed
for rest. Weary and sick at heart, I sought my
pillow. Sunrise found us up, however, and ready to wash
and dress the wounds of the sufferers, and change their
battle-stained garments for clean hospital clothing. One
solitary rebel was among the number of our wounded. He
lay on the floor at the side of the boat; we were obliged to
place many along the side, the boat was so crowded. As I
was distributing the breakfast that morning, — my table
was but a few feet from where he was lying, — my attention
collected there, talking to him, and by their language, I
found their feelings were none of the kindest. About
eleven o'clock A. M. I took a turn through the boat, to
see if all had been properly attended to, and if there was
anything they needed more for the present to make them
comfortable. All seemed satisfied, and exceedingly grateful
for the attention they had received from the surgeons,
dressers, and nurses. The upper saloon had been divided
into two wards, with Miss Gilson and Mrs. Etheridge in
charge; the lower, under Miss Gardner and her attendant,
Ellen, — a noble-hearted Irish girl, who never wearied in
her labor of love, — with Mrs. Reading, assistant dresser.
"When I came to the `rebel,' I stopped as I had to
others, and bade him good morning. He was shot through
the left wrist; the arm and hand were fearfully swollen and
inflamed: his face was flushed; his breakfast lay untouched
by his side. He said, in answer to my inquiry, `My arm
pains me very badly.' `Can't you eat your breakfast?' `I
have no appetite.' `Has your wound been dressed?' `The
doctor has not been along yet.' I called a colored boy
(who assisted me), and bade him pull off the wounded
man's boots, and bathe his feet. I brought a basin of cool
water, washed his face and hands, and poured some upon
the wound, telling him that the doctor would soon be there.
He thanked me more with his countenance than with the
words he uttered, though they expressed pain relieved and
a grateful heart. His name was William A. Seawall, company
H, eighth Alabama regiment; his home in Mobile,
Alabama. In the afternoon the surgeon in charge called
are subjecting yourself to severe criticism?' I started,
surprised: `Why, what have I done, doctor?' `Don't be
alarmed,' said he, smiling to see me so excited; `it is your
attention to that reb over there. I think you had better
not do anything more for him, for many are criticising you
very severely, and I am afraid it will do you harm, holding
the position you do.' `Doctor,' said I, `I profess to be a
Christian, and my Bible teaches me, if my enemy hungers, to
feed him; if he is thirsty, to gave him drink: that poor boy
is wounded, and suffering intensely; he was my enemy,
but now he needs my aid. If I obey not the teachings of
the Saviour, I am not a true disciple. I shall certainly see
that he is cared for with the rest.' `Very well,' said he,
`you have my advice, and can do as you please.' `If you
wish to criticise and blame me, I cannot help it; I shall do
my duty, and take care of my enemy,' I replied. So I
attended to my Secesh boy. Once, while talking with him,
I found that, though wounded and a prisoner, his feelings
were very bitter towards the North; still I saw that his
wants were supplied with the rest, for the attendants had
neglected him from the beginning.
"Tuesday morning, the 3d, we were ordered to take our
wounded to Newport News. As I was passing where Seawall
lay, he called to me — `Mother, come here a minute.'
I approached him: he put out his hand, which I took, and
said, while tears welled up to his eyes, `Mother, you have
conquered me!' `What?' said I. `You have conquered
me,' he replied: `if I get well, I will never raise my hand
against the North again; for, if I should, I should raise it
to me.' I blessed him for the good tidings, with tears running
down my cheeks, for joy that I was able to do my
duty amidst reproach, and reap the reward, not only in the
consciousness of divine approval, but in winning one rebel
by gospel measures to the side of truth and right. I related
my interview to the surgeon, and told him they might
talk on; it would do no harm; I had conquered the rebel
by obeying the golden rule."
These labors upon the hospital transports continued till
the termination of the Peninsula campaign and the removal
of the army to Acquia Creek. During this time Miss
Bradley was lady superintendent on the Knickerbocker and
on the Louisiana, though sometimes engaged temporarily
on the Daniel Webster and other transports.
On several occasions she was on board the truce boat
which went up to receive the wounded who had fallen into
the hands of the enemy; and we find several touching incidents
in her journal, none perhaps more affecting than the
following: —
"Our third trip to City Point was successful; we filled
our boat with the poor sufferers. How glad they were to
see once more the old flag, and meet kind friends! Several
died soon after they were brought on board. Our
surgeon performed a number of amputations, which I witnessed;
one, in particular, I shall not soon forget. The
subject was a lad of some nineteen years, a delicate-looking
boy, who had been shot in the upper part of the right arm,
near the shoulder. He was very patient, and could not
bear the thought of losing the arm. His appetite was poor,
he must examine the wound. He talked with the little fellow,
and finally obtained his consent to be put under the
influence of chloroform, though not with the intention of
amputating the arm, for he was not sure that it would be
necessary to do that. But the cause of the daily decline of
boy's health was quickly made evident. The bone near the
shoulder-joint was badly fractured, and mortification was
commencing. The arm must come off, or he could not live
long; but the little fellow had not expected that. Should
we arouse him and tell him, or should it be done at once, as
it would have to be done anyhow? All said, `Do it now;
it will be better for the lad in the end.' A few minutes
and the shoulder-joint had been unlocked, the arm taken
off, the skin neatly closed over the bone, every sign of
blood removed, and our hero, all unconscious of the operation,
restored to consciousness again. I wish you could
have heard our noble surgeon as he prepared him for the
loss of that good right arm. He told him that he had examined
it, and found the bone sadly fractured; he explained
the necessity for amputation, — that he must die if it was not
done, — talking so gently, and with the sympathy of a noble
heart, till at last he said, `Yes, you may take it off.' The
doctor asked him if it pained him as badly as ever, and
began to call his attention to the arm; told him what had
been our consultation, and at last our decision. The effect
for a moment was most distressing; he turned as pale as if
he were dead. We thought for an instant he would die;
but the soothing words and voice of the doctor brought
the color again to his lips, and the brightness to his eye;
pet rallied from that moment. In a few days there was a
visible improvement; and when we transferred him he was
in a fair way to recover.
"Many were very feeble, and I found that milk punch
worked wonders with them. I told the boys, when their
faces would brighten as I approached their bedside, that it
was no doubt the `snifters' which I brought. Those were
days of labor and happiness! We had excellent officers
and attendants, and all enjoyed life as much as possible."
After three trips in truce boats, Miss Bradley was on the
steamer which took the sick from Harrison's Landing to
Philadelphia. This was in the early part of August. Here
she lost the aid of one of the most efficient of her co-workers,
Mrs. Etheridge, who returned to the regiment in which
her husband was enlisted. While the boat was coaling in
Philadelphia, she met her whole-souled friend, Philip Eastwick,
whom she had known as a noble laborer in the early
part of the campaign, went with him to see some of her
patients that had been removed some weeks before, and
writes in her journal, "How glad they were to see me
again!"
Returning now on the final trip, about the middle of
August, she saw, with melancholy, the evacuation of the last
strip of territory on the James which had been gained at a
cost of fifty thousand men. When this last ship-load of
the sick from the Peninsula was discharged, Miss Bradley
was for a few days unoccupied, and recruited her health,
that had been much worn by labors so strenuous and
protracted.
But, early in September, her rest was over, and we find
her transferred to another branch of the sanitary service,
not quite so painful as had been her experience on the
Peninsula, yet requiring more administrative talent and
firmer executive and business qualities. To this service she
brought the same warm heart and the same clear head that
had made her so admirable in the hospitals and on the
transports.
The Commission had found a great and growing demand
for a Soldiers' Home in Washington — a house where the
private soldier, often moneyless and always homeless, could
go and remain a few days while awaiting orders; where the
slightly sick and the convalescent could find the care and
comfort they needed; where old, soiled clothing could be
exchanged for new, and the old be washed; a place with
books, and newspapers, and music, and cheerful looks and
words, sanctified by the presence of woman, and not unworthy
of the sacred name which was applied to it. Mr.
Knapp requested Miss Bradley to take charge of the Home,
put it in good order, act as its matron or lady superintendent,
and administer its hospitalities. She accepted the
invitation, and in a letter to her sister gives the following
account of the institution and the manner in which she
organized and conducted it.
"The Home is for all soldiers discharged from the service
and awaiting the settlement of their accounts with
government; for those who fall sick on their marches, and
those of the new regiments who are taken sick while passing
through the city. A great number of those admitted
must remain each a few days, and we can accommodate about
veterans come in, weary and ragged, shirtless and with
soiled raiment, Amy has the privilege of giving them clean,
warm clothing for theirs, so torn and dirty; of feeding
them, and sending them on their way. Mrs. Murray has the
charge of the culinary department, and occupies, with her
help, the first floor. I have charge of the rest. Mr. J. B.
Abbott, a very efficient and just man, is the superintendent.
I have two colored girls, who do the chamber-work, and
an Irish girl for the washing and ironing. I find leisure to
visit other hospitals, and do a great deal of good, I hope."
In one of these trips of hospital visitation she found a
collection of sick and convalescent soldiers at the "Rest," and
reporting their condition to Mr. Knapp, a reprimand from
the medical director to some careless subordinate was the
result. The person thus censured said "they would move
them over the river, where these women couldn't get to
them, and they wouldn't have the privilege of reporting on
them again." Miss Bradley remembered this speech, and
a few days after, armed with a pass from General Wadsworth,
she made her way out to "Camp Misery," near Fort
Ellsworth, and found there suffering and discomfort such
as she had not seen before. During September, October,
and December, 1862, besides her duties at the Home, which
were always admirably discharged, she made frequent visits
to this camp, and drew stores from the Sanitary Commission,
and distributed them there with her own hands.
The energy and discretion she thus displayed, and the
interest she manifested in the soldiers there, directed the
attention of the Sanitary Commission to her as the most
Distribution.
This was located near Alexandria, and about nine miles
from Washington. Frequent inspections and reports had
failed to reform its sanitary and social condition. From
the nature of things it was eminently a place of discomfort.
Here was sent the soldier who had been discharged from
hospital, but was not quite able to shoulder his musket and
march to his regiment; the soldier whose health and spirit
were broken, and who was awaiting his discharge papers.
Others were here who had received their papers, with the
word "Deserter" branded in red ink across the back, yet
who were conscious of having discharged the duty of a soldier,
and who deserved well of their country. Some were
very poorly supplied with clothing, having but a single
cotton shirt in the cold nights of late November.
In the note from Mr. Knapp, releasing Miss Bradley
from the superintendency of the Home, in order that she
might devote herself to the alleviation of Camp Distribution,
he says, "Will you please to show Mrs. E. all your
methods by which you have made, and continue to keep,
the Home so neat and well ordered?"
Miss Bradley's labors at Camp Distribution as special
relief agent of the Sanitary Commission were more difficult,
and required a better order of ability, than any to which she
had yet been called; but whatever the talent or ability
required, it was not found wanting when the demand was
made. During this period of twelve months, one hundred
and eleven thousand eight hundred and twenty-five soldiers
entered the camp in passing from the military hospitals to
of permanent disability. To these soldiers Miss Bradley
distributed a vast amount of commissary stores, yet with
judgment, and after ascertaining, by personal knowledge,
the wants of each.
She arrived on the 17th of December. On the 21st,
when the soldiers were all assembled in line for inspection,
she passed around with the officers, and supplied
seventy-five men with woollen shirts, working on the principle
of supplying only the very needy. She soon had a
hospital, and began to nurse such poor fellows as she had
gathered from those whom the doctors had pronounced well
men. Others she found, whose discharge papers had been
lying in the office for some time. But the men were too
feeble to stand in the cold and wet and wait their turn.
She carried them to her hospital, and warmed and clothed
them, applied for their papers, and sent them into Washington,
on their way home.
From May 1 to December 31, 1863, nearly all the soldiers
discharged from service in the camp were conveyed
by her to the Commission Lodges at Washington. The
number thus kindly aided was over two thousand. When
it is remembered that the majority of these men were suffering
from incurable disease, prostrated in strength, and
rendered highly sensitive to all the trials and exposures of
transportation, the value of Miss Bradley's labors may be,
to some extent, appreciated; but a few passages from her
journal at Camp Distribution will illustrate the character of
this uncommon and most admirable service.
"December 31, 1862. — Since the establishment of my
washed (we have a nice bath-tub, which I bought with
some money a lady gave me to buy crutches), and have
received clean clothes in place of the soiled ones which
they wore. I have a wash-house, and a man detailed, who
washes the clothes as fast as they come out of the hospital.
My whole establishment — my office, one cook tent, two
hospital tents, bath-room (a wedge tent), wash-room (a
wall tent) — is all in good working order. The officers
have been very kind, and I feel with the new year I may
begin a work which will be a blessing to the suffering in
this camp, and a credit to the United States Sanitary
Commission.
"Tuesday, January 20, 1863. — After attending to my
patients in hospital, started, with my three discharged boys
in my ambulance, for Washington. At Long Bridge overtook
another poor fellow. Took him in, and proceeded to
the Lodge. Mr. Abbott there took charge of the two
feeblest ones, and I started for Major Pomeroy's office and
Major Holman's with the others. One received his pay.
The other was charged with desertion, and concluded to
return to his regiment, to clear himself of the charge.
Poor fellow! how I pitied him! I then took them in my
ambulance, and carried them to the Home, where I bade
them good by; thence to the medical director, Dr. Abbott,
to ascertain what a soldier must do when he loses his
discharge papers. He was very kind, and gave me the
information. Returned, and wrote to Mrs. Jacob B. S.,
N. Oyster Bay, Long Island, whose husband had lost
his papers.
"22d. — This morning made an appeal to the president
of one of the Examining Boards in behalf of the sick boys
in my hospital. It touched his heart, and notwithstanding
the regular labors of the day pressed upon him, he agreed
to come after examination hours. He came, and discharged
several. God bless Dr. Hunt! I had seen him
before, and worked with him among the wounded in the
Peninsula."
From December 23, 1862, to April 1, 1863, the names
of those who entered her little sanitary hospital, with their
company, regiment, state, character of disease, and remarks
on each case, were carefully recorded by her, and
it appears that in that time she took care of one hundred
and thirty patients, of whom only fifteen died.
In some of these sufferers she took a deep and touching
interest. One fine boy, from Massachusetts, interested her
very much, and she did all that care and skill could to save
his life; but it was in vain.
On the 21st of February she writes thus affectingly
about him: —
"My darling boy, Greenwood, died at four P. M. His
father arrived about two hours prior to his death. He was
perfectly sensible, and on being told he could live but a
few hours longer, replied, "If I must die, I die in the
cause of God and my country." He was wounded in the
left cheek by a minie ball, during the battle of Antietam,
and was in hospital in Newark, New Jersey, nearly four
months, when, instead of discharging him, as was the surgeon's
duty, he was cruelly sent to this camp. Came from
Washington, in a tough snow-storm, January 28; stood
chilled, before his name was recorded. His discharge
papers were made out the next day after he arrived; but
the cold he took coming through that storm settled on his
lungs, and in three weeks after his arrival the noble boy
passed to the spirit-land. The discharge papers came the
day before he died. Too late! Only the lifeless body was
his aged father permitted to carry to his home in Hubbardston,
Massachusetts."
Labors and experiences like these consumed the whole
of that memorable year 1863. Miss Bradley had her hospital
full of the sick. Almost every day she took soldiers
in her ambulance, and with them went to the different
offices in Washington, aiding each one to obtain or correct
his papers, as each case differed; and, when these arduous
and vexatious labors were concluded, she passed her evenings
mostly in writing to the friends of the sick and of the
dead the most complete and satisfactory account of their
sickness and all its symptoms, and the circumstances and
last words of the death-beds.
When it is remembered that such labors were wholly
gratuitous, and bestowed upon those who had no claim
upon her sympathy and love, more than being soldiers in
the cause of our common country, and bestowed in the
name and for the sake of the loved ones they had left in
their distant village homes, truly we may say of devotion
so uncommon, —
Fashioned of clay, like all things here below;
Though harps are wanted, and bright pinions folded,
We know them by the love-light on their brow."
On the last day of the year, Miss Bradley, in a report to
the special relief agent of the Sanitary Commission, gives
a review and summary of these labors, which, aside from
its intrinsic interest as an illustration of her character, is
valuable as a guide to the zeal of those who aspire to a
similar distinction in the walks of beneficence.
"The changes in this camp," she writes, "have been
numerous and extensive since my establishment here. We
have hardly a single officer, surgeon or soldier, now, that
was present on my arrival. To labor systematically and
with effect, where such important changes are constantly
taking place, is difficult. How have I succeeded? Let
us see.
"First, then: What was I to do? I had devoted myself
to the general duty of alleviating the sufferings of the soldiers
of the Union. To accomplish this most effectually, I
must work upon a system. Now, what shall this system
be? Can rules be established at once? I found, after a
few days of effort and embarrassment, that they could not.
You will ask, `Why not?' Briefly I answer, Because
any plan of mine which proposed an established routine,
would operate, or attempt to operate, in the midst of a general
anarchy. System there was none, in any department,
military, commissary, quartermaster, or medical. State
agents came with their stores of clothing, and gave them
out profusely, without any investigation as to whether the
recipient was needy or otherwise. The Commission had
sent agents who had poured down their stores by the
wagon-load, and these articles of clothing had been used
once, and when soiled, thrown upon the ground, and left
to rot by the thousands.
"I entered upon my duties as soon as the camp was
moved to its present location, on the 17th of December,
1862. The soldiers were in tents; no barracks had been
erected. Many I found sick, and stretched on the almost
frozen ground in midwinter, with only a suit of ragged
and fever-soiled clothes and one army blanket, with no
nourishment that they could take, or that was suitable for
sick men. What did I do? Did I, as some others have, sit
down and prepare a fearful communication to the New
York Tribune, making bitter complaints of the Sanitary
Commission, and accusing the commanding officers of neglect
and incompetency, — that the quartermaster did not
furnish clothing, and the surgeons left their patients to
languish, and finally to die on the bare ground? This
was not my plan. Did I give indiscriminately from the
abundant supplies of clothing to every man that asked?
Not so.
"Making out a requisition in form, I drew a quantity of
woollen shirts, and on Sunday morning, at inspection, I
went with the officer, and found in the line of men, on that
damp and chilling day, on the banks of the Potomac, in
midwinter, seventy-five with only thin cotton shirts. To
these I gave warm flannels at once; and ever since the
really needy have been supplied. Then I went through the
sick tents, and immediately after sought an interview with
the commanding officer, told him my plan, and asked for
hospital tents. These were at once pitched and floored.
Stoves were placed in them, and the sick collected and made
as comfortable as possible. A squad of men was detailed
to assist me, and every facility placed in my power.
"Another wretched class I found, of those who had
proved incapable of service on account of chronic ailments,
or feeble constitutions, but who had not as yet received
honorable discharges, or their arrears of pay. Their papers
had been lying for three or four weeks in the surgeon's
office, while they were too weak and ill clad to go out in
the cold and stand till their turn came. These I brought
to my hospital; warmed, fed, and clothed them; applied
for their papers; obtained their transportation orders, and
sent them to Washington, in my ambulance, to the stations
where they could take the proper train, go home, and
die among friends.
"In January, 1863, Lieutenant-Colonel Samuel McKelvy
took command, and the organization of the divisions became
more perfect.
"At first I placed my cards, authorizing the bearer to
draw clothing, in the hands of the surgeons, as there were
two in each division. I found, however, they did not have
leisure, or take time, to learn the actual wants of their
patients as to clothing; so I had a soldier detailed in each
division, whose sole business it should be to ascertain who
wanted clothing. Now, when a soldier brings me a clothing
card, I refer him to the agent of his division, who first
examines his knapsack, to learn the actual condition of his
wardrobe, then ascertains from the quartermaster whether
he can draw, and, if not, gives him a written order on me,
which I fill at once.
"Since the 1st of May I have gone over to Washington
with nearly every discharged soldier, taken him to the
Lodge, and assisted the majority of them in obtaining a
the government.
"I have preserved, in a book kept for the purpose, the
names, company, regiment, and state of nearly two thousand
soldiers who have for the past seven months been
thus aided by me. I took them first to the Lodge, No.
389 H Street, where they deposited their knapsacks for safe
keeping; thence to the paymaster-general's office; thence
to their regimental paymaster's, when any doubt or difficulty
arose. Finally, they went with me to the office of Major
Taylor, the paymaster for discharged soldiers, where they
settled their final account, and I then took them back to the
Lodge, where they resumed their knapsacks, found lodging
and meals free, and obtained tickets to return to their homes
at reduced rates.
"Within the past two months I have obtained certificates
for the arrears of pay for some one hundred and fifty soldiers,
several of whose names were `dropped from the
rolls.' These I have had reinstated by proper authority,
and they then drew their pay. In nearly every case I have
preserved in a book, kept for the purpose, the names,
company, regiment, and state of all these cases, and a
memorandum of the amount of their claim, and the time
and manner of final adjustment. The sum total of the
moneys thus paid in settlement to soldiers whose accounts
were placed in my hands during the year, is between seven
and eight thousand dollars.
"In conclusion, I will add, that I have always tried to
accomplish my work by peaceful measures. Though I have
made many suggestions, not one failed of being adopted;
by state agents and by ambulance women, the Commission
officers have always sustained me against their jealousies.
For a time the agents of the Christian Commission failed to
trust me with some articles of clothing, but afterwards
`concluded to leave all that to Miss Bradley.' Two assistant
surgeons tried to injure my usefulness in the camp.
The result was their dismissal from the service. I speak it
not as a boast, but to show that my peace method has been
successful."
A warm and appreciative friend of Miss Bradley has
given the author a graphic and somewhat amusing description
of the appearance of our heroine when she came over,
day after day, from "Camp Misery," as the boys would call
it, with a forlorn-looking escort of broken-down soldiers,
and took them from one office to another till their papers
and accounts were all made entirely satisfactory.
A small figure, erect, and made for activity and endurance,
sitting composedly in the ambulance — a soldier
driving, and two or three cripples riding; the rest moving
in single file, as a right wing, — poor, sick soldiers, but
trying to look as trim as they can, — marching up the
avenues of the national capital, all in silence, moving after
that little woman as though she were their brigadier-general!
Now the procession comes to the door of a government
office. She lifts one white finger of her little
hand, and they obey as quickly as though General Hancock
had roared out his "Column, halt!" She points towards
the door. That means "file right," and is just as effectual
as the drawn sword of General Grant.
Soon the file comes out again, as obedient to the movement
of that one woman's fingers as the Great Eastern to
her helm. It is shorter than when it went in. Two or
three of the boys start off with more elastic step, their
papers, "all right," in the side pocket of the old blue blowse,
and a wad of new greenbacks in their vest pocket. They
don't know what to say to Miss Bradley. Their sensations
are a mixture of gratitude, admiration, and reverence.
There was no tedious waiting at a circumlocution office.
One cut of her scissors severed the red-tape with which
their hopes and rights had been tied up for weeks and
months. And so the little procession moves on from one
office to another, till she takes them back to the Lodge,
when the heavy and greasy old knapsack, all stained with
Virginia mud, is lashed on for the last time, and they start
off, in little irregular squads of two or three, with buoyant
feelings and bright eyes, for the station of the railroad that
goes north, for now
"Johnny comes marching home."
Throughout the year 1864 Miss Bradley continued the
same persistent and systematic labors for the soldiers which
she has herself so well described in her report for 1863.
In January and February seven hundred and fifty were
discharged, and sent in ambulances to the Lodge, where
they were assisted by Mr. Neal, of the Commission, in the
regulation of their papers, Miss Bradley being prevented
by sickness from going with them.
About this time a radical change was made. Camp Distribution
was broken up, but the same locality was named
"Rendezvous of Distribution," and orders were that none
service. During these changes Miss Bradley was sick for
some time from excitement and over-exertion. When her
health was partially restored (about the 17th of February),
she assumed the editorial chair of the Soldier's Journal,
"published every Wednesday, at the Rendezvous of Distribution,
at the subscription price of two dollars per annum,
payable always in advance; single copies, five cents."
The objects of this Journal were declared to be, to give
instructions how to procure pay and clothing when entitled
to such; what are the requisites exacted by government when
furloughs are granted; how discharged soldiers can be put
in the way of securing prompt settlement of their accounts
with government, without the interference of claim agents.
Aside from this, it contained interesting original and selected
reading matter. Its prospectus was dated the 17th
of February, 1864, and it gave its valedictory eighteen
months after, when the "cruel war was over," on the 22d
of August, 1865. It began with a debt of five hundred and
fifty dollars, and wound up with a profit of twenty-one
hundred and fifty-five dollars and seventy-five cents, besides
the press and type, all of which was devoted to the
relief of orphans of soldiers.
Besides these editorial duties, Miss Bradley was, during a
large part of the year, the superintendent of the special diet
at the Augur General Hospital; and, by records carefully
preserved by herself, it appears that during the two years
ending December 31, 1864, she received from soldiers, and
delivered to J. B. Abbott, the chief assistant of the general
relief department of the Sanitary Commission, four
to be forwarded to their friends, and in the same manner,
during January and February, 1865, received and forwarded
seven hundred and seventy-nine dollars.
The plan and system of her work were organized under
ten heads, which she followed, from the beginning of her
connection with this camp, in the winter of 1862, till the
war ended. They were as follows: —
1. Distributing clothing among the needy.
2. Procuring dainties for the sick, and administering to
their comfort, by furnishing gruel, stimulants, &c.3. Accompanying discharged soldiers to Washington, and
assisting them in obtaining their pay.4. Distributing note paper and envelopes, and writing
letters for the sick.5. Receiving and forwarding money for soldiers to their
friends at home.6. Obtaining certificates of arrears of pay for soldiers,
and getting unjust charges of desertion removed.7. Answering letters of inquiry to hospital directory.
8. Distributing reading matter in camp.
9. Telegraphing to friends of very sick soldiers.
10. Giving meals to feeble soldiers in the barracks.
Little credit would be reflected on our brave soldiers and
officers if it should appear that services such as these failed
of due appreciation and the meed of just praise. By all
she was looked upon as the friend of the soldier, and by
him she was received with the kindest regard and gratitude.
On the 22d of February, 1864, she was presented
private soldiers of Camp Convalescent, with which she had
so long been connected. "It was about two P. M., on the
22d," she says, "that, on answering a rap at my door, I was
met by a little army of soldiers, headed by Lieutenant-Colonel
Samuel McKelvy commanding, and Surgeon Sanford
B. Hunt, accompanied by the chaplain, William J. Potter,
and the other officers of both camp and hospital. As I
opened the door, Mr. Potter stepped forward and said, —
"`Miss Bradley: Be not alarmed at the coming of this
army to your door. We are not hostile, but come on a
friendly mission; and here I have the countersign that will
show that we are friends. In this box you will find a watch
and chain, which, in behalf of the officers and soldiers of
this camp and hospital, I have the honor to present to you.
"`I present it to you in behalf of the officers, some one
of whom, who has been longer acquainted with your work
here than I have been, I would have preferred to speak on
this occasion; but I know that I speak for them, for I but
repeat what I have heard from the commanding officer and
from the surgeon in charge of camp and hospital, and also
from others, when I say that they recognize the importance
of the work you are doing here, and the remarkable ability,
faithfulness, and entire self-devotion with which you have
performed it; and they recognize this work not only for its
beneficence to the soldiers, who from time to time have
been gathered here, but as an important aid towards the
good order and discipline of the camp; and by their share
in this gift they mean to testify this recognition of the
value of your services.
"`But I present this gift also in behalf of the private soldiers;
full half of its value belongs to them. They in
various ways have felt your sympathy, and had your kind
assistance. No words of mine can tell in how high regard
they hold your work for them.
"`By their share in this gift they have tried to tell you
a part of their gratitude; and those who have not been able
to add their mite to increase the value of the gift, give you
their blessings and their prayers.
"`Let me add, also, that we welcome you back to health,
and to the work you love so well. And now, in behalf of
these your friends, and many others who are not here,
allow me to put into your hands this token of their appreciation
and friendly regard — a gift from soldiers to the
Soldiers' Friend.'"
In some form or other nearly every officer who saw her
works has given his opinion of them, sometimes in terms
that do all that can be done by words to show the deep
impression she made on the minds of those with whom she
came in contact during those four years of her conspicuous
and splendid beneficence.
Colonel Taylor, of the paymaster's department at Washington,
under date of August 17, 1864, writes, "Since
March 4, 1863, I have been in charge of this office, and
from that date Miss Bradley has assisted more than two
thousand discharged soldiers in adjusting and collecting
the amounts due them. To the sick and wounded she has
ministered faithfully. Her services have been valuable to
the Commission, to the country, to the soldier, and honorable
to herself."
Mr. E. II. Brooks, chief clerk in the office of the paymaster-general,
and ten of his associates, unite in presenting
to Miss Bradley a testimonial of their esteem and their
valuation of her service, in which they say, "We desire to
bear testimony to the deep interest which you have always
manifested in the welfare of the sick and wounded soldier,
and the valuable services you have rendered in procuring
arrears of pay, and in removing erroneous charges of desertion,
for hundreds of those who stood in need of a friend.
While we regret that the poor soldier is to be deprived of
your valuable services, we trust that in your retirement
from the busy scenes in which you have so long been
engaged, you may enjoy health and prosperity, and all the
blessings that flow from a well-spent life."
Dr. G. L. Sutton, surgeon in charge of the Rendezvous
of Distribution, referring to her labors there as he saw
them during the year 1864, says, "Her notoriety as `the
soldier's friend' is wide spread, and needs no comment.
If he needs a counsellor, her advice is ever ready. If his
case needs an advocate at the heads of the departments,
she is prompt and discreet in presenting his case. The
sick she has nursed as a mother, and the well she has
incited to deeds of valor. Possessed of superior executive
ability, associated with a generous heart and honesty of
purpose, she is peculiarly well qualified to fill the position
of special relief agent of the United States Sanitary Commission.
I would in the most earnest manner recommend
her to all who appreciate true worth, and would reward
true merit."
After the close of the war, in August, 1865, the officers
long and arduous charitable labors of Miss Bradley had
intrenched upon her health; and the organization, acting
through their general secretary, John S. Blatchford, Esq.,
addressed her the following letter: —
"Your impaired health, incurred in the performance of
your self-imposed and most arduous labors for the welfare
of our soldiers, is observed by your friends with solicitude
and regret.
"The service which you have rendered in the cause of
humanity, and the influence you have exerted, resulting in
untold alleviation and comfort to those to whom you have
ministered in many ways beyond the ordinary experience
of women, are such as to secure to you the lasting regard
and love of all who have known you in your work. That
work has been characterized by rare judgment, great
efficiency untiring zeal and devotion. It is above praise.
"It will afford me, on behalf of the Commission, especial
satisfaction if I can in any manner promote your personal
comfort during the period of relaxation and rest which you
now allow yourself; and I will thank you if you will indicate
any wish in this connection, and permit me the pleasure
of serving you."
In reply, Miss Bradley thanked the secretary for the
terms in which he had seen fit to speak of her services, and
suggested that, as she greatly needed rest and a change of
scene, and her limited means did not allow her to take a
trip to visit her friends in Maine, the Commission should
give her a salary for that part of the current year then
passed.
On the following day she received a note from the central
office, enclosing a draft for four hundred and fifty-five
dollars; and the treasurer remarks that, "in his judgment,
the Commission had never expended a dollar more worthily,
or with more perfect returns to the good cause."
He closes his communication with a sentiment which
every reader of this sketch will heartily indorse: "Your
course as related to the soldier, Miss Bradley, is beyond
any words of mine. It has illustrated to me, more perfectly
than any other instance I have ever seen, the nobility of
woman's sacrifice to truth and right."
| MISS AMY M. BRADLEY. Women of the war : | |