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Joseph Howland (search for this): chapter 12
en and freedwomen; these ladies might have pleaded an apology for some natural shrinking from the work, from its dissimilarity to all their previous pursuits. But to the call of duty and patriotism, they had no such objections to urge. Mrs. Joseph Howland was the wife of a Colonel in the Union army, and felt it a privilege to do something for the brave men with whom her husband's interests were identified, and accompanying him to the camp whenever this was permitted, she ministered to the sthern climes, Shall tell their little children in their rhymes Of the sweet saints who blessed the old war times. On the Chickahominy, June 12th, 1862. Impaired health, the result of the excessive labors of that battle summer, prevented Mrs. Howland from further active service in the field; but whenever her health permitted, she visited and labored in the hospitals around Washington, and her thoughtful attention and words of encouragement to the women nurses appointed by Miss Dix, and rec
Massachusetts Sergeant (search for this): chapter 12
dents of army or hospital life, are worthy of preservation as among the choicest gems of poetry elicited by the war. A Rainy day in camp, A message from the Army, etc., are poems which many of our readers will recall with interest and pleasure. A shorter one of equal merit and popularity, we copy not only for its brevity, but because it expresses so fully the perfect peace which filled her heart as completely as it did that of the subject of the poem: In the hospital. S. S-, a Massachusetts Sergeant, worn out with heavy marches, wounds and camp disease, died in — General Hospital, in November, 1863, in perfect peace. Some who witnessed daily his wonderful sweet patience and content, through great languor and weariness, fancied sometimes they could already see the brilliant particles of a halo in the air about his head. I lay me down to sleep, With little thought or care, Whether my waking find Me here-or there! A bowing, burdened head, That only asks to rest, Unquestioning, u
June 12th, 1862 AD (search for this): chapter 12
's horrific train; Thy blessed feet follow its ghastly pain, And misery and death without disdain. To one borne from the sullen battle's roar, Dearer the greeting of thy gentle eyes When he, a-weary, torn, and bleeding lies, Than all the glory that the victors prize. When peace shall come and homes shall smile again, A thousand soldier hearts, in northern climes, Shall tell their little children in their rhymes Of the sweet saints who blessed the old war times. On the Chickahominy, June 12th, 1862. Impaired health, the result of the excessive labors of that battle summer, prevented Mrs. Howland from further active service in the field; but whenever her health permitted, she visited and labored in the hospitals around Washington, and her thoughtful attention and words of encouragement to the women nurses appointed by Miss Dix, and receiving a paltry stipend from the Government, were most gratefully appreciated by those self-denying, hard-working, and often sorely-tried women-m
November, 1863 AD (search for this): chapter 12
by the war. A Rainy day in camp, A message from the Army, etc., are poems which many of our readers will recall with interest and pleasure. A shorter one of equal merit and popularity, we copy not only for its brevity, but because it expresses so fully the perfect peace which filled her heart as completely as it did that of the subject of the poem: In the hospital. S. S-, a Massachusetts Sergeant, worn out with heavy marches, wounds and camp disease, died in — General Hospital, in November, 1863, in perfect peace. Some who witnessed daily his wonderful sweet patience and content, through great languor and weariness, fancied sometimes they could already see the brilliant particles of a halo in the air about his head. I lay me down to sleep, With little thought or care, Whether my waking find Me here-or there! A bowing, burdened head, That only asks to rest, Unquestioning, upon A loving Breast. My good right-hand forgets Its cunning now- To march the weary march I know not how
stant cheerfulness, her ready wit, her never failing resources of contrivance and management in any emergency, made the severe labor seem light, and by keeping up the spirits of the entire party, prevented the scenes of suffering constantly presented from rendering them morbid or depressed. She took the position of assistant superintendent of the Portsmouth Grove General Hospital, in September, 1862, when her friend, Miss Wormeley, became superintendent, and remained there till the spring of 1863, was actively engaged in the care of the wounded at Falmouth after the battle of Chancellorsville, was on the field soon after the battle of Gettysburg, and wrote that charming and graphic account of the labors of herself and a friend at Gettysburg in the service of the Sanitary Commission which was so widely circulated, and several times reprinted in English reviews and journals. We cannot refrain from introducing it as one of those narratives of actual philanthropic work of which we have
t last! My half-day's work is done, And this is all my part; I give a patient God My patient heart. And grasp his banner still, Though all its blue be dim; These stripes, no less than stars, Lead after Him. Mrs. Howland died in the summer of 1864. Miss Georgiana M. Woolsey, was one of the most efficient ladies connected with the Hospital Transport service, where her constant cheerfulness, her ready wit, her never failing resources of contrivance and management in any emergency, made the, never derived from her own shock at the sight, always practical and healthy. Miss Woolsey remained in the service through the war, a part of the time in charge of hospitals, but during Grant's great campaign of the spring, summer, and autumn of 1864, she was most effectively engaged at the front, or rather at the great depots for the wounded, at Belle Plain, Port Royal, Fredericksburg, White House, and City Point. Miss Jane S. Woolsey, also served in general hospitals as lady superintendent u
September, 1862 AD (search for this): chapter 12
olsey, was one of the most efficient ladies connected with the Hospital Transport service, where her constant cheerfulness, her ready wit, her never failing resources of contrivance and management in any emergency, made the severe labor seem light, and by keeping up the spirits of the entire party, prevented the scenes of suffering constantly presented from rendering them morbid or depressed. She took the position of assistant superintendent of the Portsmouth Grove General Hospital, in September, 1862, when her friend, Miss Wormeley, became superintendent, and remained there till the spring of 1863, was actively engaged in the care of the wounded at Falmouth after the battle of Chancellorsville, was on the field soon after the battle of Gettysburg, and wrote that charming and graphic account of the labors of herself and a friend at Gettysburg in the service of the Sanitary Commission which was so widely circulated, and several times reprinted in English reviews and journals. We can
July, 1863 AD (search for this): chapter 12
Falmouth after the battle of Chancellorsville, was on the field soon after the battle of Gettysburg, and wrote that charming and graphic account of the labors of herself and a friend at Gettysburg in the service of the Sanitary Commission which was so widely circulated, and several times reprinted in English reviews and journals. We cannot refrain from introducing it as one of those narratives of actual philanthropic work of which we have altogether too few. Three weeks at Gettysburg. July, 1863. Dear--: What we did at Gettysburg, for the three weeks we were there, you will want to know. We, are Mrs. Her mother, Mrs. Woolsey. and I, who, happening to be on hand at the right moment, gladly fell in with the proposition to do what we could at the Sanitary Commission Lodge after the battle. There were, of course, the agents of the Commission, already on the field, distributing supplies to the hospitals, and working night and day among the wounded. I cannot pretend to tell you
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