In
1911, friend Adelaide wrote a book on the participation of women in Civil War medicine, “Reminiscences of An Army
Nurse During the Civil War”. The dedication of her book
reads,
“To the Boys in Blue
1861-1865; and to those brave women who, with smiling faces and breaking
hearts, sent them forth to save their country and their homes, while they
themselves toiled in fields and elsewhere, waiting to welcome home too many who
never returned; and to that band of heroic devoted women, many of whom left
luxurious homes for the discomforts and privations of hospital life, and died,
self-sacrificing patriots of the war, this true story is affectionately
dedicated.”
Early in 1910, Mrs Smith wrote to Dr. Bruson asking her to submit remembrances of her experiences during the war.
This return letter dated April 1910 from Jacksonville to Mrs. Smith was
in response to that request.
|
Dr. Bruson |
“My Dear Ada,
At your request I send some incidents of camp life
as they come to mind. After one of the fearful onslaughts at Petersburg,
the wounded came pouring into my tent, which was nearest to the firing line, so
that a drummer-lad had named it 'The Half Way House'. One lad dropped from the
wagon in which he was being transported, as they passed my tent. I ran and
cried out to the driver. He coolly replied, 'He is dead, what does it matter!'
I knelt by the boy's side
and found a remote evidence of life, but hemorrhage was so profuse it seemed he
could not survive. I called the attention of surgeons, but all said 'We must go
on'. So with my knowledge that life was not extinct, and that he was so young
and had the force of youth, (moreover the hardships of the Confederates had
toughened him), I remained on the ground at his side not daring to leave him,
but compelled to use my fingers as a tampon.
I remained with him
twenty-four hours before I felt safe in having him carried to a ward. Cramped
and exhausted from such a strain, in addition to weakness induced by loss of
sleep through nights and days previous, I could hardly crawl into my tent.
Being cold I heated a brick, put it in my cot and was soon so deeply sunk in
oblivion, it seemed I would have remained so forever, but for my companions,
Misses V. and M., who came in at midnight. Soon after they retired they
discovered a dense smoke filling the tent and were aware of burning wool. They
called me again and again, but getting no reply they jumped up and pulled me
from the burning cot and finally roused me, so that I calmly dressed.
Morning found my limbs,
from ankles to knees, one solid blister, but this I was at first too stupid to
realize, or even the danger which I had escaped through my faithful friends. No
one knew of the accident but ourselves, and I went about my work as usual.
Nature alone was the healer.
One day I asked a poor
exhausted soldier - so feeble from disease and exposure that he could only
whisper - if there was anything he wished, and said that if so I would try to
get it for him. With tears and sighs he replied, '0h, Miss, if you would only
get me some fried bacon with molasses poured over it, I would get well!' It was
a novel dish to me but was easily attained, and the man's appetite was so
quickened by the relishable food that he began to recover forthwith. In later
years I learned that very many looked upon it as a special delicacy.
I was finally placed in
charge of the Confederate wards, and there saw that grandest of men, President
Lincoln. This was after the last assault on Petersburg, and men horribly
wounded and sick, from both armies, were rushed into our camp hospital at City
Point. I was given especial care of the private Confederates, and my companion,
that fine, grand woman, Miss Vance, took charge of the Confederate officers. I
had only an orderly to assist me - a boy about sixteen, - and what with the
cleaning and caring for each sick, torn body, our powers were strained to the
utmost limit of endurance. Our patients' cots were so close together that we
could just squeeze between, and our ward so long that it required from three to
four tents
General Grant was at City
Point, and President Lincoln came down at this time (this date would be June
21, 1864), before our army marched into Richmond. One day both of them were
coming slowly down my avenue. The orderly rushed in and cried out, 'President
Lincoln's coming!'
I was at the extreme end of
the hospital tent, but, girl-like, started forward that I might see him. At
that instant, oh, such a puny, helpless wail, as of sick and dying infants,
issued from every throat: 'Oh, don't leave us, Miss! He is a beast! He will
kill us!' I replied, 'Oh, no! He is a grand good man!'' Again and again came
forth that puny wail, 'Don't leave us, Miss!' till I finally said, 'Well, I'll
not leave you, don't fear!' but by that time I had got to the front of the tent
and the orderly had pulled back a flap on my request so that I peered out.
Within about fifteen or
twenty feet were both men. General Grant with the inevitable cigar, and
President Lincoln, so tall, so lank, giving evidence of much sorrow, looming over
him. I heard General Grant say distinctly, 'These are the Confederate
quarters'. President Lincoln immediately said, 'I wish to go in here alone!'
I drew myself up into the
corner as close as possible, and he bent under the open flap and came in. He went
at once to a bedside, and reverently leaned over almost double so low were the
cots, and stroked the soldier's head, and with tears streaming down his face he
said in a sort of sweet anguish, 'Oh, my man, why did you do it?' The boy in
gray said, or rather stammered weakly, almost in a whisper, 'I went because my
State went'. On that ground floor, so quiet was the whole ward, a pin could
almost have been heard to fall. President Lincoln went from one bedside to
another and touched each forehead gently, and with tears streaming asked again
the question, and again heard the same reply. When he finally passed out from
those boys, some grey and grizzled, but many of them children, there came as
from one voice, 'Oh, we didn't know he was such a good man! We thought he was a
beast!'
At the close of
hostilities, I with many others, went with the army to Richmond and Washington,
and there saw the final parade of 60,000 troops before the White House. I
afterward returned to my college and hospital and completed my studies, and
since then have led a strenuous life as a practicing physician in Florida.
As ever, Old Comrade, Mary”