 | NELLY M. CHASE. Women of the war : |  |
NELLY M. CHASE.
ASOLDIER, who, though fearfully wounded, has survived
that disastrous attempt to storm the enemy's
intrenched lines at Fredericksburg in December, 1862,
gives an admirable account of his sensations when marching
"into the jaws of death," his sufferings on the field, and the
touching kindness with which he was cared for and his life
saved by one of those angels of mercy, a volunteer army
nurse. Inquiry has hitherto failed to reveal more concerning
the character and services of Miss Chase than has been
given to the world in the story of this one-armed volunteer;
but this alone is enough to enshrine her in the grateful
hearts of every soldier, and win for her the blessings of all
who love virtue and their country.
After describing the sensations with which he awoke from
his sleep in the streets of Fredericksburg, at the sound of
heavy cannonade, and the manner in which the division
was marched out and pushed forward in the attack, "One-Armed"
continues his narrative as follows: —
"`Steady, men — forward!' rang out the voice of our
commander; and disentangling from the retreating fugitives,
we steadily bore on till we neared the batteries, and
with a cheer sprang forward. That instant a line of fire
leaped from behind a stone wall close in our front, and — I
were of a confused and contradictory character; one
instant I was fully conscious; the moment following, utterly
lost.
"Then I would imagine I was at home and half asleep,
while all the house was astir with some past or anticipated
catastrophe with which I was in some way connected. Then
all was dark, and a great load seemed to press me down
and glue me to the ground in spite of all my efforts to rise.
Then I heard voices, all strange and heartless but one; this
had chords of human sympathy in it. I could feel something
force open my jaws, and a fluid trickle into my throat,
which I managed to swallow to prevent strangling: still it
trickled down, and still I painfully swallowed, hoping,
praying that it would stop; but it did not, until I recognized
that it was some powerful stimulant that I was taking, and
that I was becoming more able to swallow it. All this time
I could hear the kind voice encouraging me; also some cold,
unsympathizing voices. I could not distinguish what they
said: only by the tone could I tell the sympathetic from
the unsympathetic. At last I heard the words in part of
one who said, `It's no use working over him; he's dying
now.' Quietly, but O, so earnestly and tenderly, the kind
voice replied, `No, doctor, he's not dying; he's coming to
life; he will live if we don't give him up. This wound on
his head won't amount to anything if we can get him
warmed up. Don't you see he's been nearly frozen to death
while faint from loss of blood? But he's coming on finely,
and by and by you can take off his arm, and the man may
get well. Who knows but he has a mother or a sister to
brother saved?'
"Yes, I was saved; I understood it all now: I remembered
the battle, and that my present condition was in
some way the result of it; and, for the sake of that dear
mother and sister so strangely invoked, I made an effort to
unclasp my eyelids, and opened my eyes once more to the
light of the sun. At first the glare confused me, but soon
I could distinguish three surgeons beside me, watching my
symptoms with curiosity, if not with interest. On the other
side of me, as I lay on the ground under a large hospital
tent, there was kneeling a woman: her left hand was under
my head; in her right she was holding a spoon, with which,
at short intervals, she dipped some warm fluid from a cup held
by a boy soldier, her attendant. I tried to speak, but could
not; she merely shook her head, to discourage my efforts,
and turning to the lad, said, `Now, Johnny, the beef soup.'
In a moment the soup was substituted for the toddy, and I
gradually felt life, and the love of life, coming back to me.
Looking around, I saw near me a basin of water, with a
sponge, and the lady's hands covered with blood. I inferred,
what I afterwards learned to be the case, that she
had been washing the clotted gore from my hair and face,
and had discovered that what looked like a fatal wound on
the head was merely a scalp cut, which had bled profusely,
and looked hopeless, but was not so in reality.
"Gradually I recovered sufficient strength to undergo the
amputation of my shattered right arm, and then recovered
entirely. I had been struck both on the head and arm at
the same time, and lay senseless on the field till late in the
to the city, where I was thrown into an ambulance and
taken across the river. After waiting my turn with
hundreds of others, I thank God that, when that turn came,
I fell into good hands — the blessed hands of a kind-hearted
woman! Even here, amid the roar and carnage, was found
a woman with the soul to dare danger; the heart to sympathize
with the battle-stricken; sense, skill, and experience,
to make her a treasure beyond all price. The choicest
blessings of Heaven be hers in all time to come! Since my
recovery I have observed her in her ministrations, and I see
she is gifted in a wonderful degree for scenes like these.
She has been in the army ever since the war broke out, and
ever at the front. Rear hospitals are no place for this
noble girl. Though not twenty-four when I first saw her
on that memorable day, I do not believe, as an army nurse,
she has an equal any where. The surgeon of the seventy-ninth
New York, stationed in the hospital from which this
is written, has placed her in charge of our supplies and
stores, and most efficiently does she deal them out.
"Many a poor wounded soldier would lack his timely
stimulant, or food proper for his condition, if she did not
pass through the tents at all hours of the day and night; for
they say she seldom sleeps. For many months she was connected
with the one hundredth Pennsylvania, known as the
Roundhead Regiment, and went with it to South Carolina.
At the time of Benham's defeat on James Island, Dr.
McDonald, who was there, says she performed incredible
labors, as she does here. Among the many developments
of character produced by this war, I have seen none that I
has never been a paid nurse, but considers herself a member
of the regiment, and works for others only when she
cannot accompany it. For all the labors, privations, and
hardships of her campaigning life, her only reward is the
consciousness of being so largely useful, and the unbounded
admiration and gratitude of the private soldiers, who almost
worship her."
| NELLY M. CHASE. Women of the war : | |