The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, August 16, 1903, Page 9

1 AE an e the order: “Women and children to the e ? the war 1 was @ cellars; the rebels will shell the town.” > We lost little time In obeying the order My home was on West High street, r r Washington, and in the direct path of the retreat. o From 4 to 6 we were in the cellar, and . 2 those two hours 1 ver forg Our r s 't cellar was & very g and furnished for many be our own family. 1ge up to the ch Our boy ing for want of attentior Up to t time I thought I could do nothing except werk out of sight of the wounded, but I could not resist 1 went into the R are suff man Catholic Church, scattered all over it, some pews and some on the bare suffering and groans of the id dying were terrible to sec The men were Iying in the floor The P A above our heads, the rattle of Sanitis o v - screeching of shells and I knelt by the first one inside the door ’ . & L vells Jed to the vries ard said: “What can 1 do for you?” He € and summer, ] not speak ' the children, were enough looked up at me with mournful, tearless ess of all kinds was paralyzed the stoutest heart. 1 am sure eyes, and sald: “Nothing; 1 am going Lo he dally r t never were more fervent prayers rebels kep heavenward To be met thus by the first one I ad- citement the rebels had gained full posses- dressed was more than my overwrought the town some of our men who nerves could bear and I went hastily out, night -en taken prisoners were standing the cellar window. One of them e eked if some of us would take thelr ad- Greatend of ¢ ec. and the addresses of friends, and were in store for us. v to them of their capture. [ took rieen and wrote as they requested. I On Wednesday e were inswers from all but one, and f the soldiers revisited the place r capture and recognized the house enthusiasm £t While a e cellar window, wic o e the battle lasted we concealed wve. nd fed three men in our cellar. < ; Tt not the place to tell of the horri- g which met our eyes when wa { king down Was to come above ground. an Catholic Church and the Church, a few doors troops alreads bat ter the men had SN byterian cor, ssed w on our fright ken poss: ¥uiton, a ant surgeon of orty-third Penn- had been working in some sort of shape wounded, who were rapldly filling He asked mother’s permis- kitchen and cook stove It was gladiy given and from e we knew no rest, day nor night, the i, which was ¢ sickened me, The rted by two com- cht hastily band- sion t se o n visible. I turned for them rror, for I never coul that J. After a while 1} was led by, is he TEEEIEE) for v long weeks. wagor gan to 3o back. an Or sday morning Dr. Fulton came t nd that. Then came to us Of course everybody thinks it would be a glorious snap to spend a million a year, but—is it? Could you get your money’s worth? Just read the new sensation, sat down on the church step and—cried. In a little while, by a great effort, 1 2 | prayer controlled myself, re-entered the hospital and spoke again to the dying man. He was wounded {n the lungs and spine and there was not the slightest hope. He was Sergeant Alexander Stewart of the One Hundred and Forty-ninth Penn- sylvania Volunteers. He told me of his home, of his aged father and mother, of his wife and of his younger and only brother who had enlisted with him, but had been severely injured in the line of duty a few months before, and was then at home unable to walk. He asked me to Once more is heard the victors’ tread, As march the conquerors by, A nation’s warriors, scarred and gray, That went o “do or die.” Arose to heaven’s dome, Is honored for the gallant stand He made for love and home. i read the fourteenth chapter of John. His father had read it the last morning they kinelt together around their family altar. He agked me to take their addres and send them his dying message of lc Later in the day, at his request, the surgeon allowed me to remove him to v father's house. t night we were again ordered to the him to suffer for we were I could not lea stifiing atmosphere; obliged to close all doors and windows. While fanning him. being in an uncom- fortable position. I changed it and a mo- ment later a hall struck the floor where 1 had been sitting, scattering over us the piaster which it displaced. He insisted on my golng to the cellar—sald nothing could save his life and I must not risk mine—but 1 could not leave him. He lingered until Monday, July 6. His By James @rnott. fell To Union, ancestors were among the early settlers of our country and he was buried in the United Presbyterian graveyard, near the church in which his father had been bap- tized sixty-three years befere. The following summer his widow and brother visited us and from that visit dated the acquaintance which resulted in my marriage In 1867. % Sergeant Stewart was the first wounded man brought into our house, but others followed, and it was used In connection with and under the same control as the A “THE VICTORS” GETTYSBURG--PicKet’'s Fau arge--mm o Painting by F. D. Briscoe. twg churches I have named. We had twelve in all, and two deaths. The sight of blood never again affected me and I was among wounded and dying men day_and night, . While the\ battle lasted and the town was in possession of the rebels I went back and forth between my home and the hospitals without fear. The s=oldiers called me brave, but I am afraid the truth was that 1 did not know enough to be afraid and if I had known enough I had no time to think of the rigsks I ran, for my heart and my hands were full. Among my most precious possessions are the passes which admitted me to any hospital at any time, until the iast hos- pital had been broken up. General Huidekoper, who lost an arm, and Colonel Chamberlain of the One Hundred and Fiftieth Pennsylvania Vol- And guiltless Lincoln, mighty soul, And Grant, their leader brave, Are come again on cherished soil, The soil they tought to save. Once more they list the bugle call And hear the cannon’s voice; Again, o’er freedom’s battle won, Their throbbing hearts rejoice. 4 said: “Girls, you must come| The wvanquished foe, whose nightly | Those flelds where foes and comrades In brethren’s matchless fight Are proudly consecrated, all, God and Right. unteers were with us a while; also Col- onel Blair of the One Hundred and Farty- ninth Pennsylvania Volunteers, who was left-handed, and lost his left arm at the shoulder joint. Colonel James Ashworth of Philadelphia (I' have forgotten the number of his regiment) was with us six weeks. He had seven severe and painful flesh wounds. Captain Henry Eaton and his brother, Sergeant Eugene Eaton, of the Sixteenth Vermont Volunteers, came late one even- ing, after a hot, dusty ride from a fleld Copyrighted, 1890, by J. Hoover. hospital which had been discontinued. Sergeapt Eaton was suffering very much. His back had been very badly injured by a piece of shell, and he could neither stoop nor turn his head. The doctors and nurses were all busy. Captain Eaton sald be knew how the wound should be dressed, but as he was not able to do it he would take the responsibility and su- perintend the job iIf I would do the work. 1 went to work and we succeeded in re- lieving him. One of our boys had lost a leg. He had been with us several days and had be- come very fond of my little sisters, Very frequently they sang for him. His favo- rite was “There Is No Name So Sweet on Earth,” at that time a popular Sunday school hymn. He suffered from indiges- tion, and one night, in his restlessness, the bandages became loose. It was near ‘midnight; the nurse, tired out, had fallen asieep, and before we could find a surgeon he was so weakened by loss of blood that he died the next morning., A few days later his wife came. She was young and had néver been away from home. When she heard of her husband belng wound- ed she started for Gettysburg, leaving a babe that he had never seen. She did not know of his death until she came to us. and her grief was heartrending. ‘Willlam J. Sherriff of the One Hundred and Forty-second Pennsylvania Volun- teers, mow of Vernondale, Los Angeles County, Cal., was with us for a while. Two years later he was married and brought his bride to visit us. Mr. Crooks, of the One Hundred and Forty-ninth Pennsylvania Volunteers, who was wounded while helping to carry Sergeant Stewart from the fleld, was also with us, and I, who a short time before was ready to faint at the sight of blood, stood near to be of yse if needed while the surgeons amputatéd his leg. We became acquainted without the formality of an introduction, and it was the beginning of a friendship which has stood the wear and tear of forty years. HAVE YOU THE BEAUTY EYE? If you have you will simply go into raptures over BRYSON'S FAMOUS SEDUCTIVE PICTURES reproducedda Multiple Colors The Belle of the Par Or, THE WOMAN IN BLACK. FREE WITH NEXT SUNDAY CALL. Mr. Wintermute, another of our beys, recovered, rejoined his regiment, and in the first engagament was instantly killed. Mr. Decker, another, joined his regi- ment, served out his time, and & few years later was drowned in the Susque- hanna River in sight of his home. In addition to ministering to the physi- cal needs of the boys, I went dally through the hospitals with my writing materials, reading and answering letters, This work enlisted all my sympathies, and I received many kind and apprecia- tive letters from those who could not come. Besides caring for the wounded, we &4 all we could for the comfort of friends who came to look after their loved omes Many pleasant and enduring friendships were the result of this part of my work. It is & great pleasure to remember that during that long, trying summer, I was treated with the greatest courtesy and kindness by the soidlers, not one, I either army, ever addressing me exoept in the most respectful manner. They wers men. They bore their sufe fering in the hospitals with the mame matchless courage and fortitude with which they met the dangers and endured the hardships of army life. Their patience was marvelous. I never heard a murmur, Truly, we shall not look upon their Ike again. . s‘K"nls sketch will give you some idea of how one school teacher spent her vaca- tion in 1563. I have always regretted that I did not enlist as a nurse. My heart was in the work, but I could not see my way clear to leave home at that time. In conclusion, I wish to say that while 1 would not care to live over that sum- mer again, yet I would not willingly erase that chapter from my life’s experience; and T shall always be thankful that T was permitted to minister to the wants and Soothe the last hours of some of the brave men who lay suffering and dying for the dear old flag. Gettysburg, Pa., Mareh, 1908