 | MISS MARY E. DUPEE. Women of the war : |  |
MISS MARY E. DUPEE.
MISS DUPEE, of Portland, Maine, for about a year
acted as a nurse at the Naval School Hospital, in
Annapolis, and afterwards went to the Union lines before
Richmond, as an agent of the Maine Camp and Hospital
Association, where she remained till the war ended.
She went to Annapolis, in company with Miss Susan
Newhall, of Portland, on the 3d of August, 1863. These
young ladies here found a broad and most interesting field
of labors, engaging at once the activities of the hands and
the deepest sympathies of the heart.
Miss Dupee had thirteen wards assigned to her for regular
visitation, each ward containing from six to eight cots;
and much of the time every cot was occupied.
The majority of the patients at this hospital were Union
soldiers, just released from the horrible and infamous rebel
prison pens at Andersonville, Salisbury, Belle Isle, and
the Libby. Here they came, in all their rags and squalor,
to be clothed, fed, nursed, and cheered; to be consoled
into forgetfulness of the atrocious scenes they had so long
witnessed; to be reassured of the gratitude and sympathy
of their friends at home; many of them, alas! only to have
their eyes closed by Christian hands, and their skeleton
frames laid to rest in Christian graves.
They dropped the filthy rags that hardly covered their
wasted forms outside the doors of the building, and after
being thoroughly washed and dressed in clean shirts and
drawers, were laid in comfortable beds. Then the ladies
could commence their ministries of sympathy and kindness.
At first the poor fellows, starved as they were, did not
think much about food. They were content to lie perfectly
still, and wonder if it was really so, that they were alive
and dressed in clean clothes, and if these were real women
who came to their bedsides with cambric handkerchiefs
fragrant with cologne, giving them words of the tenderest
pity, more refreshing than their perfume.
As soon as they were in some degree comfortable, the
first request was for paper and pen and ink, that they
might write home. Many were too weak to do this for
themselves, and the ladies in those cases acted as secretaries.
Nothing seemed to give more satisfaction than to
have a lady pass some time at their bedside and listen to
the fearful story of their life in the stockade — the horrors,
the sickness, the slow starvation, the uncounted deaths.
In two or three days, those whose constitutions were not
entirely sapped would commence to rally; and then such
hunger! Their diet was regulated by the surgeons, but
considerable discretion was allowed Miss Dupee and her
associates in adding to the regular fare such harmless delicacies
as custards, eggs, jellies, with which they were liberally
supplied by the different Commissions. Miss Hall,
the lady superintendent, says that many of them, when recovering,
had apparently no other aim or thought beyond
getting enough to eat. Yet so deep had been the inroads
which a few months before were vigorous, that it was
a long time before the most generous diet seemed to restore
health. Many would rally, and mend for some weeks, and
then in some unaccountable way be found dead in their cots
in the morning. Some believed that rebel malignity had
added a slow and subtile poison to the little food they had
to eat in the stockade.
The ladies visited each patient once a day, and the very
sick as much oftener as possible; reading to some, writing
for others, talking with all.
"We are not used to this sort of treatment," they would
say, "but rather to being spit upon, like dogs!"
The soldiers called the ladies "sunbeams," and they were
justly proud of the title. One would slowly turn his head
to find among the cots the bearded face of a fellow-sufferer,
and then call out, "I say, partner, don't it seem like a
streak of daylight to see these girls walking around our
beds here?"
Among the Belle Isle prisoners Miss Dupee found a very
interesting boy, from Durham, Maine, only eighteen years
old. When she first saw him he was lying on his cot looking
so happy and contented that she could hardly think he
had a trouble. He showed some bad-looking sores on his
feet and hands which were quite painful. His head and eyes
were so weary and weak, that he could not read; and she
made it a special duty to pass an hour every day with him,
reading to him and talking. Nothing appeared to give him
so much pleasure as her visits. He seemed in a fair way to
walk a little while when it was pleasant. The surgeon said
he would never be fit for line service again, as his sight
was dimmed, and he told him he would try and get him a
discharge. This delighted him very much; and as she entered
the ward he exclaimed, "O, Miss Dupee, the doctor
has promised my discharge to-morrow. Are not you glad?"
She congratulated him, and assured him of her heartfelt
sympathy. She had brought a few lines of poetry, which
she found in a newspaper, and read to him. Then she
bade him good night. Two hours after he sprang suddenly
from his bed in a convulsion, and expired almost
instantly. Poor fellow! it was not the discharge he was
looking for.
Another of her patients lived in St. Louis. He had
been very ill, and was promised a furlough as soon he could
bear the journey. He improved rapidly, and wrote home
the good news that he would be strong enough to start in a
few days. Two of his sisters had deferred their wedding
days while he was in prison, but when he was so much better,
concluded to wait no longer, and were married the same
evening. All at once his disease assumed a new form, and
he entered upon his rest. Touching and sad beyond comparison
was the letter Miss Dupee received from his sisters
in answer to hers, giving all the details of their brother's
death and burial.
After passing nearly a year in these wards of the Naval
School Hospital, Miss Dupee, early in the year 1865, went
to City Point and joined Mrs. Mayhew and Miss Usher,
the wants of soldiers from Maine.
The association in Portland, though not large, was very
active, and kept these noble women abundantly supplied
with everything that could in any way add to the comfort
and happiness of the men.
The Maine agency was a wonder in the army before Petersburg,
and the care taken by that state of her volunteers
a subject of remark among all the troops. "Next time I
enlist," was a frequent saying with the boys, "it will be
in a Maine regiment." Many belonging to other states
came to the Maine agency. The ladies always helped them
when they could do so without denying their own men.
Sometimes those who claimed to be from Maine did not
know whether it was the name of a town, a city, or a state.
Some amusing revelations of geographical knowledge would
often take place when Mrs. Mayhew or Miss Dupee would
question them about their homes in Maine. But the rule
of confining the supplies to men from that state was by no
means strict, and few ever left the "log cabin" without
taking with them something from Maine.
After the capture of Richmond the agency was removed
to Alexandria, and there Miss Dupee and her associates
continued to search for men from their state in the hospitals,
and to supply the wants of the Maine regiments within
their reach, until the grand armies of the Union were disbanded,
and the great hospitals emptied.
In reviewing her camp and hospital labors, Miss Dupee
says, "I look back upon my time passed in this work as
shall ever be thankful that I was able to contribute in any
degree to the comfort of our brave soldiers, for it is an
experience that I prize above everything else. God grant
that those who have been spared may never have cause to
feel that they are neglected or despised by those in whose
defence they gave up everything but life itself!"
| MISS MARY E. DUPEE. Women of the war : | |