Nurse and Spy in the Union Army

“A mortar-shell had struck the corner of the cave; fortunately, so near the brow of the hill, that it had gone obliquely into the earth, exploding as it went, breaking large masses from the side of the hill – tearing away the fence, the shrubbery and flowers – sweeping all like an avalanche down near the entrance of my poor refuge.

“On another occasion I sat reading in safety, I imagined, when the unmistakable whirring of Parrott shells told us that the battery we so much dreaded had opened from the entrenchments. I ran to the entrance to call the servants in. Immediately after they entered a shell struck the earth a few feet from the entrance, burying itself without exploding.

“A man came in, much frightened, and asked permission to remain until the danger was over. He had been there but a short time when a Parrott shell came whirling in at the entrance and fell in the center of the cave before us, and lay there, the fuse still smoking.

“Our eyes were fastened upon that terrible missile of death as by the fascination of a serpent, while we expected every moment that the terrific explosion would take place. I pressed my child closer to my heart and drew nearer the wall. Our fate seemed certain – our doom was sealed.

“Just at this dreadful moment, George, a negro boy, rushed forward, seized the shell, and threw it into the street, then ran swiftly in the opposite direction.

“Fortunately the fuse became extinguished and the shell fell harmless to the ground, and is still looked upon as a monument of terror.”

CHAPTER XXVIII

It was a proud day for the Union army when General U. S. Grant marched his victorious troops into the rebel Sebastopol – or “the western Gibraltar,” as the rebels were pleased to term it.

The troops marched in triumphantly, the Forty-fifth Illinois, the “lead miners,” leading the van, and as they halted in front of the fine white marble Court House, and flung out the National banner to the breeze, and planted the battle-worn flags bearing the dear old stars and stripes – where the “palmetto” had so recently floated – then went up tremendous shouts of triumphant and enthusiastic cheers, which were caught up and re-echoed by the advancing troops until all was one wild scene of joy; and the devastated city and its miserable inhabitants were forgotten in the triumph of the hour.

This excitement proved too much for me, as I had been suffering from fever for several days previous, and had risen from my cot and mounted my horse for the purpose of witnessing the crowning act of the campaign. Now it was over, and I was exhausted and weak as a child.

I was urged to go to a hospital, but refused; yet at length I was obliged to report myself unfit for duty, but still persisted in sitting up most of the time. Oh what dreary days and nights I passed in that dilapidated city! A slow fever had fastened itself upon me, and in spite of all my fortitude and determination to shake it off, I was each day becoming more surely its victim.

I could not bear the shouts of the men, or their songs of triumph which rung out upon every breeze – one of which I can never forget, as I heard it sung until my poor brain was distracted, and in my hours of delirium I kept repeating “Vicksburg is ours,” “Vicksburg is ours,” in a manner more amusing than musical.

I will here quote a few verses which I think are the same:

Hark! borne upon the Southern breeze,
As whispers breathed above the trees,
Or as the swell from off the seas,
In summer showers,
Fall softly on the ears of men
Strains sweetly indistinct, and then —
Hist! listen! catch the sound again —
“Vicksburg is ours!”

O’er sea-waves beating on the shore,
’Bove the thunder-storm and tempest o’er,
O’er cataracts in headlong roar,
High, high it towers.
O’er all the breastworks and the moats,
The Starry Flag in triumph floats,
And heroes thunder from’ their throats
“Vicksburg is ours!”

Spread all your banners in the sky,
The sword of victory gleams on high,
Our conquering eagles upward fly,
And kiss the stars;
For Liberty the Gods awake,
And hurl the shattered foes a wreck,
The Northern arms make strong to break
The Southern bars.

All honor to the brave and true
Who fought the bloody battles through,
And from the ramparts victory drew
Where Vicksburg cowers;
And o’er the trenches, o’er the slain,
Through iron hail and leaden rain,
Still plunging onward, might and main,
Made Vicksburg ours.

I think I realized, in those hours of feverish restlessness and pain, the heart-yearnings for the touch of a mother’s cool hand upon my brow, which I had so often heard the poor sick and wounded soldiers speak of. Oh how I longed for one gentle caress from her loving hand! and when I would sometimes fall into a quiet slumber, and forget my surroundings, I would often wake up and imagine my mother sat beside me, and would only realize my sad mistake when looking in the direction I supposed her to be, there would be seen some great bearded soldier, wrapped up in an overcoat, smoking his pipe.

The following lines in some measure express my spirit-longings for the presence of my mother in those nights of torturing fever and days of languor and despondency:

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight;
Make me a child again, just for to-night!
Mother, O come from the far-distant shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep —
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

******

Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toils and of tears,
Toil without recompense – tears all in vain —
Take them, and give me my childhood again.
I have grown weary of warfare and strife,
Weary of bartering my health and my life,
Weary of sowing for others to reap —
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

After the fall of Vicksburg a large proportion of the soldiers in that vicinity, who had fought so bravely, endured so many hardships, and lain in the entrenchments so many weary weeks during the siege, were permitted to visit their homes on furlough.

In view of this General Grant issued a special order forbidding steamboat officers to charge more than five dollars to enlisted men, and seven dollars to officers, as fare between Vicksburg and Cairo. Notwithstanding this order the captains of steamers were in the habit of charging from fifteen to thirty dollars apiece.

On one occasion one of those steamers had on board an unusually large number of soldiers, said to be over one thousand enlisted men and nearly two hundred and fifty officers, en route for home on leave of absence; and all had paid from twenty to twenty-five dollars each. But just as the boat was about to push off from the wharf an order came from General Grant requiring the money to be refunded to men and officers over and above the stipulated sum mentioned in a previous order, or the captain to have his boat confiscated and submit himself to imprisonment for disobedience of orders. Of course the captain handed over the money, and amid cheers for General Grant, sarcastic smiles, and many amusing and insinuating speeches and doubtful compliments to the captain, the men pocketed the recovered “greenbacks,” and went on their way rejoicing.

When the General was told of the imposition practiced by the boatmen on his soldiers, he replied: “I will teach them, if they need the lesson, that the men who have periled their lives to open the Mississippi for their benefit cannot be imposed upon with impunity.”

A noble trait in the character of this brave general is that he looks after the welfare of his men as one who has to give an account of his stewardship, or of those intrusted to his care.

I remained in my tent for several days, not being able to walk about, or scarcely able to sit up. I was startled one day from my usual quietude by the bursting of a shell which had lain in front of my tent, and from which no danger was apprehended; yet it burst at a moment when a number of soldiers were gathered round it – and oh, what sad havoc it made of those cheerful, happy boys of a moment previous! Two of them were killed instantly and four were wounded seriously, and the tent where I lay was cut in several places with fragments of shell, the tent poles knocked out of their places, and the tent filled with dust and smoke.

One poor colored boy had one of his hands torn off at the wrist; and of all the wounded that I have ever seen I never heard such unearthly yells and unceasing lamentations as that boy poured forth night and day; ether and chloroform were alike unavailing in hushing the cries of the poor sufferer. At length the voice began to grow weaker, and soon afterwards ceased altogether; and upon making inquiry I found he had died groaning and crying until his voice was hushed in death.

The mother and sister of one of the soldiers who was killed by the explosion of the shell arrived a short time after the accident occurred, and it was truly a most pitiful sight to see the speechless grief of those stricken ones as they sat beside the senseless clay of that beloved son and brother.