In illustration of her services at this time, and of the undercurrent of terror and sadness of this triumphal march, we can do no better than to give some extracts from her journal, kept during this period, and published without her knowledge in the Sanitary Commission Bulletin. It was commenced on the 15th of May, 1864, as she was following Mrs. Bickerdyke to Ringgold, Georgia. Together they arrived at Sugar Creek, where but two miles distant the battle was raging, and spent the night at General Logan's headquarters, within hearing of its terrific sounds. All night, and all day Sunday, they passed thus, not being permitted to go upon the field, but caring for the wounded as rapidly as possible, as they were brought to the rear. She says:
The wounded were brought into hospitals, quickly and roughly prepared in the forest, as near the field as safety would permit. What a scene was presented! Precious sons of northern mothers, beloved husbands of northern wives were already here to undergo amputation, to have wounds probed and dressed, or broken limbs set and bandaged. Some were writhing under the surgeon's knife, but bore their sufferings bravely and uncomplainingly. There were many whose wounds were considered slight, such as a shot through the hand, arm, or leg, which but for the contrast with severer cases, would seem dreadful, Never was the presence of women more joyfully welcomed. It was touching to see those precious boys looking up into our faces with such hope and gladness. It brought to their minds mother and home, as each testified, while his wounds were being dressed; “This seems a little like having mother about,” was the reiterated expression of the wounded, as one after another was washed and had his
