Throughout the South the women went to work from the first drum-beat.
A great deal of it was done privately, the left hand itself hardly
knowing what the modest, humble right hand was doing. In nearly every
neighborhood soldiers' aid societies, or relief associations, were
organized and did systematic and efficient work throughout the four
years. Supplies of every kind were constantly gathered and forwarded
where most needed. The old men and women did an immense amount of
work.
In all the railroad towns, hospitals and wayside houses were
established for the benefit of the travelling soldier.
These were
maintained and managed almost exclusively by the women.
They prepared
as best they could such articles as pickles and preserves and other
delicacies for the use of the hospitals. They sent testaments and
other good books and good preachers to the army, and being nearly all
women of practical piety, they helped greatly to infuse that spirit of
patriotism which gave such strength to the Confederate army. The world
has never known an army in which there were so many earnest, practical
Christians like Jackson, Cobb, Lee, Polk, Price, and Gordon among the
commanding officers, where there were so many ministers of the gospel
of good standing who were fighting soldiers, and so many men in ranks
who were God-fearing men. The world has never known an army where so
many officers and soldiers came from homes where there were pious
wives, mothers, and sisters. The inspiration of the knightly hearts of
the Confederacy was home and the inspiration of a pious home was
godly woman. The world will never know how effective were the prayers
and letters of the women at home in those great religious revivals
with which the Confederate army was so often and so richly blessed.
Thousands of men who entered the army wicked men went home or to their
graves genuine Christians. The war ended; but the good woman's work
never ends. Our Confederate women began immediately to look after the
soldiers' orphans and the soldiers' graves. In all directions the
Confederate monuments have been erected mainly by their efforts.
Soldiers' homes have been established and in some few of the States
homes provided for the Confederate widows. It is safe to say that
women collected two-thirds of the money raised for all these objects.
It is their dead they are honoring. And they will continue to break
the alabaster box. Let them alone.
THE SOUTHERN WOMAN'S SONG
[Confederate Scrap Book.]
Stitch, stitch, stitch.
Little needle, swiftly fly,
Brightly glitter as you go;
Every time that you pass by
Warms my heart with pity's glow.
Dreams of comfort that will cheer,
Dreams of courage you will bring,
Through winter's cold, the volunteer.
Smile on me like flowers in spring.
Stitch, stitch, stitch.
Swiftly, little needle, fly,
Through this flannel, soft and warm;
Though with cold the soldiers sigh,
This will sure keep out the storm.
Set the buttons close and tight,
Out to shut the winter's damp;
There'll be none to fix them right
In the soldier's tented camp.
Stitch, stitch, stitch.
Ah! needle, do not linger;
Close the thread, make fine the knot;
There'll be no dainty finger
To arrange a seam forgot.
Though small and tiny you may be,
Do all that you are able.
A mouse a lion once set free,
As says the pretty fable.
Stitch, stitch, stitch.
Swiftly, little needle, glide.
Thine's a pleasant labor;
To clothe the soldier be thy pride,
While he wields the sabre.
Ours are tireless hearts and hands;
To Southern wives and mothers,
All who join our warlike bands
Are our friends and brothers.
Stitch, stitch, stitch.
Little needle, swiftly fly;
From morning until eve,
As the moments pass thee by,
These substantial comforts weave.
Busy thoughts are at our hearts--
Thoughts of hopeful cheer,
As we toil, till day departs,
For the noble volunteer.
Quick, quick, quick.
Swiftly, little needle, go;
For our homes' most pleasant fires
Let a loving greeting flow
To our brothers and our sires;
We have tears for those who fall,
Smiles for those who laugh at fears;
Hope and sympathy for all--
Every noble volunteer.
THE LADIES OF RICHMOND
The editor of the Lynchburg _Republican_, writing to his paper in
June, 1862, says:
The ladies of Richmond, as of Lynchburg, and indeed of the whole
country, are making for themselves a fame which will live in all
future history, and brilliantly illuminate the brightest pages of the
Republic's history.
Discarding all false ceremony and giving full vent to those feelings
and sentiments of devotion which make her the noblest part of God's
creation and the fondest object of man's existence, the ladies of this
city from all ranks have gone into the hospitals and are hourly
engaged in ministering to the wants and relieving the sufferings of
their countrymen.
Mothers and sisters could not be more unremitting in their attention
to their own blood than these women are to those whom they have never
seen before, and may never see again. They feed them, nurse them, and
by their presence and sympathy cheer and encourage them.
"Man's
inhumanity to man makes countless millions mourn," but woman's
sympathy would heal every wound and make glad every heart.
THE HOSPITAL AFTER SEVEN PINES
[Richmond During the War, pages 135-136.]
On this evening, as a kind woman bent over the stalwart figure of a
noble Georgian, and washed from his hair and beard the stiffened mud
of the Chickahominy, where he fell from a wound through the upper
portion of the right lung, and then gently bathed the bleeding gash
left by the Minie ball, as he groaned and feebly opened his eyes, he
grasped her hand, and in broken whispers, faint from suffering,
gasping for breath, "I could-bear-all-this-for-myself-alone-but
my-wife and my-six little-ones," (and then the large tears rolled down
his weather-beaten cheeks,) and overcome he could only add, "Oh, God!
oh, God!-how will-they endure it?" She bent her head and wept in
sympathy. The tall man's frame was shaking with agony.
She placed to
his fevered lips a cooling draught, and whispered:
"Think of yourself
just now; God may raise you up to them, and if not, He will provide
for and comfort them." He feebly grasped her hand once more, and a
look of gratitude stole over his manly face, and he whispered, "God
bless you! God bless you! God bless you! kind stranger!"
BURIAL OF LATANE
["The next squadron moved to the front under the lamented
Captain Latane, making a most brilliant and successful charge
with drawn sabres upon the enemy's picked ground, and after a
hotly-contested, hand-to-hand conflict put him to flight, but
not until the gallant captain had sealed his devotion to his
native soil with his blood."--Official Report of the Pamunkey
Expedition, Gen. J. E. B. Stuart, C. S. A., 1862.]
[From a private letter.]
Lieutenant Latane carried his brother's dead body to Mrs.
Brockenbrough's plantation an hour or two after his death. On this sad
and lonely errand he met a party of Yankees, who followed him to Mrs.
B.'s gate, and stopping there, told him that as soon as he had placed
his brother's body in friendly hands he must surrender himself
prisoner. * * * Mrs. B. sent for an Episcopal clergyman to perform the
funeral ceremonies, but the enemy would not permit him to pass. Then,
with a few other ladies, a fair-haired little girl, her apron filled
with white flowers, and a few faithful slaves, who stood reverently
near, a pious Virginia matron read the solemn and beautiful burial
service over the cold, still form of one of the noblest gentlemen and
most intrepid officers in the Confederate army. She watched the sods
heaped upon the coffin-lid, then sinking on her knees, in sight and
hearing of the foe, she committed his soul's welfare and the stricken
hearts he had left behind him to the mercy of the "All-Father."
"And when Virginia, leaning on her spear, _Victrix et vidua_, the conflict done,
Shall raise her mailed hand to wipe the tear That starts as she recalls each martyred son, No prouder memory her breast shall sway, Than thine, our early lost, lamented Latane!"
MAKING CLOTHES FOR THE SOLDIERS
[In Our Women in the War, pages 453-454.]
Money was almost as unavailable as material with us for a time. "Uncle
Sam's" treasury was not accessible to "rebels." Our government was
young, and Confederate bonds and money yet in their infancy. We could
do nothing more than wait developments, and try to meet emergencies as
they trooped up before us. In the meantime, children grew apace. Our
village stores were emptied and deserted. Our armies in the field
became grand realities. All resources were cut off. Our government
could poorly provide food and clothing and ammunition for its armies.
Then it was our mothers' wit was tested and did in no sort disappoint
our expectations. Spinning-wheels, looms and dye-pots were soon
brought into requisition. Wool of home production was especially
converted, by loving hands, into warm flannels and heavy garments,
with soft scarfs and snugly-fitted leggings, to shield our dear boys
from Virginia's wintry blasts and fast-falling snows.
Later on, when
the wants and privations of the army grew more pressing, societies
were formed to provide supplies for the general demand.
Southern homes
withheld nothing that could add to the soldiers'
comfort. Every
available fragment of material was converted into some kind of
garment. After the stores of blankets in each home had been given,
carpets were utilized in their stead and portioned out to the
suffering soldiers. Wool mattresses were ripped open, recarded, and
woven into coverings and clothing. Bits of new woolen fabrics, left
from former garments, were ravelled, carded, mixed with cotton and
spun and knitted into socks. Old and worn garments were carried
through the same process. Even rabbits' fur was mixed with cotton and
silk, and appeared again in the form of neat and comfortable gloves.
Begging committees went forth (and be it truthfully said, the writer
never knew of a single one being turned away empty) to gather up the
offerings from mansion and hamlet, which were soon cut up, packed, and
forwarded with all possible speed to the soldiers.
And who can tell what pleasure we took in filling boxes with
substantials and such dainties as we could secure for the hospitals.
Old men and little boys were occupied in winding thread and holding
brooches, and even knitting on the socks when the mystery of "turning
the heel" had been passed. The little spinning-wheel, turned by a
treadle, became a fascination to the girls, and with its busy hum was
mingled oft times the merry strain of patriotic songs.
"Our wagon's plenty big enough, the running gear is good,
'Tis stiffened with cotton round the sides and made of Southern wood;
Carolina is the driver, with Georgia by her side; Virginia'll hold the flag up and we'll take a ride."
THE INGENUITY OF SOUTHERN WOMEN
[Our Women in the War, pages 454-455.]
During all that time, when every woman vied with the other in working
for the soldiers, there were needs at home too urgent to be
disregarded. These, too, had to be met, and how was not long the
question. For those very women who had been reared in ease and
affluence soon learned practically that "necessity is the mother of
invention," and the story of their ingenuity, if all told, might
surprise their Northern sisters, who always regarded them as
inefficient, pleasure-loving members of society.
Whatever may have
been the fault of their institutions and rearing, the war certainly
brought out the true woman, and no woman of any age or nation ever
entered, heart and soul, more enthusiastically into their country's
contest than those who now mourn the "Lost Cause." While our armies
were victorious in the field hope lured us on. We bore our share of
privations cheerfully and gladly.
We replaced our worn dresses with homespuns, planning and devising
checks and plaids, and intermingling colors with the skill of
professional "designers." The samples we interchanged were homespuns
of our last weaving, not A. T. Stuart's or John Wanamaker's sample
envelopes, with their elaborate display of rich and costly fabrics.
Our mothers' silk stockings, of ante-bellum date, were ravelled with
patience and transformed into the prettiest of neat-fitting gloves.
The writer remembers never to have been more pleased than she was by
the possession of a trim pair of boots made of the tanned skins of
some half-dozen squirrels. They were so much softer and finer than the
ordinary heavy calf-skin affairs to be bought at the village "shoe
shop," that no Northern maiden was ever more pleased with her
ten-dollar boots. Our hats, made of palmetto and rye straw, were
becoming and pretty without lace, tips, or flowers. Our jackets were
made of the fathers' old-fashioned cloaks, in vogue some forty years
agone--those of that style represented in the pictures of Mr.
Calhoun--doing splendid service by supplying all the girls in the
family at once. We even made palmetto jewelry of exquisite designs,
intermingled with our hair, that we might keep even with the boys who
wore "palmetto cockades." The flowers we wore were nature's own
beautiful, fragrant blossoms, sometimes, when in a patriotic mood,
nestled, with symbolic cotton balls. For our calico dresses, if ever
so fortunate as to find one, we sometimes paid a hundred dollars, and
for the spool of cotton that made it from ten to twenty dollars. The
buttons we used were oftentimes cut from a gourd into sizes required
and covered with cloth, they having the advantage of pasteboard
because they were rounded. On children's clothes persimmon seed in
their natural state, with two holes drilled through them, were found
both neat and durable. In short, we fastened all our garments after
true Confederate style, without the aid of Madame Demorest's guide
book or Worth's Parisian models, and suffered from none of Miss Flora
McFlimsey's harassing dilemmas.
MRS. LEE AND THE SOCKS
R. E. Lee, in his recollections of his father, General Lee, says:
"His letters to my mother tell how much his men were in need. My
mother was an invalid from rheumatism, and confined to a roller chair.
To help the cause with her own hands, as far as she could, she was
constantly occupied in knitting socks for the soldiers, and induced
all around her to do the same. She sent them directly to my father and
he always acknowledged them."
It was well known in the army what great pleasure it gave the General
to distribute these socks.
FITTING OUT A SOLDIER
[Mrs. Roger A. Pryor's Reminiscences of Peace and War, pages
131-133.]
When I returned to my father's home in Petersburg I found my
friends possessed with an intense spirit of patriotism.
The First,
Second and Third Virginia were already mustered into service; my
husband was colonel of the Third Virginia Infantry. The men were to be
equipped for service immediately. All of "the boys" were going--the
three Manys, Will Johnson, Berry Stainback, Ned Graham; all the
young, dancing set, the young lawyers and doctors--
everybody, in
short, except bank presidents, druggists, a doctor or two (over age),
and young boys under sixteen. To be idle was torture. We women
resolved ourselves into a sewing society, resting not on Sundays.
Sewing-machines were put into the churches, which became depots for
flannel, muslin, strong linen, and even uniform cloth.
When the hour
for meeting arrived, the sewing class would be summoned by the ringing
of the church bell. My dear Agnes was visiting in Petersburg, and
was my faithful ally in all my work. We instituted a monster sewing
class, which we hugely enjoyed, to meet daily at my home on Market
street. My colonel was to be fitted out as never was colonel before.
He was ordered to Norfolk with his regiment to protect the seaboard.
I was proud of his colonelship, and much exercised because he had
no shoulder-straps. I undertook to embroider them myself. We had
not then decided upon the star for our colonels'
insignia, and I
supposed he would wear the eagle like all the colonels I had ever
known. We embroidered bullion fringe, cut it in lengths, and made
eagles, probably of some extinct species, for the like were unknown
in Audubon's time, and have not since been discovered.
However,
they were accepted, admired, and, what is worse, worn.
The Confederate soldier was furnished at the beginning of the war with
a gun, pistol, canteen, tin cup, haversack, and knapsack--no
inconsiderable weight to be borne in a march. The knapsack contained a
fatigue jacket, one or two blankets, an oil-cloth, several suits of
underclothing, several pairs of white gloves, collars, neckties, and
handkerchiefs. Each mess purchased a mess-chest containing dishes,
bowls, plates, knives, forks, spoons, cruets, spice-boxes, glasses,
etc. Each mess also owned a frying-pan, oven, coffee-pot, and
camp-kettle. The uniforms were of the finest cadet cloth and gold
lace. This outfit--although not comparable to that of the Federal
soldier, many of whom had "Saratoga" trunks in the baggage train--was
considered sumptuous by the Confederate volunteer. As if these were
not enough, we taxed our ingenuity to add sundry comforts, weighing
little, by which we might give a touch of refinement to the soldier's
knapsack.
There was absolutely nothing which a man might possibly use that
we did not make for them. We embroidered cases for razors, for soap
and sponge, and cute morocco affairs for needles, thread, and
courtplaster, with a little pocket lined with a bank note. "How
perfectly ridiculous," do you say? Nothing is ridiculous that helps
anxious women to bear their lot--cheats them with the hope that they
are doing good.
THE THIMBLE BRIGADE
[From Dickison and His Men, pages 161-162.]
With prayerful hearts, the devoted women of Marion formed themselves
into societies for united efforts in behalf of our gallant defenders.
At Orange Lake, we formed a Soldiers' Relief Association, playfully
called the "Thimble Brigade;" and, with earnest faith in the blessing
of God upon our work, we began our mission of love. With grateful
hearts we labored to provide comforts for the brave soldiers, who
around their campfires were keeping watch for us. The following notice
will be read by our sisterhood with mingled emotions of pleasure and
sadness:
"In this number of the Ocala _Home Journal_ will be found the
proceedings of a meeting of the ladies of the neighborhood of Orange
Lake, held for the purpose of organizing a 'Soldiers'
Friend'
Association. They have not only succeeded in perfecting their
organization, but have already accomplished a great deal for the
benefit of the soldiers. They have made thirty pairs of pants for the
soldiers at Fernandina, the ladies furnishing the material from their
own private stores, besides knitting socks and making other garments.
The manner in which they have commenced this patriotic work is,
indeed, encouraging to all who have the soldier's welfare at heart,
and we know that they will labor as long as the necessities of the
soldier require it."
NOBLE WOMEN OF RICHMOND
[In A Rebel's Recollections, pages 66-69.]
In Richmond, when the hospitals were filled with wounded men brought
in from the seven days' fighting with McClellan, and the surgeons
found it impossible to dress half the wounds, a band was formed,
consisting of nearly all the married women of the city, who took upon
themselves the duty of going to the hospitals and dressing wounds from
morning till night; and they persisted in their painful duty until
every man was cared for, saving hundreds of lives, as the surgeons
unanimously testified. When nitre was found to be growing scarce, and
the supply of gunpowder was consequently about to give out, women all
over the land dug up the earth in their smokehouses and tobacco barns,
and with their own hands faithfully extracted the desired salt, for
use in the government laboratories.
Many of them denied themselves not only delicacies, but substantial
food also, when, by enduring semi-starvation, they could add to the
stock of food at the command of the subsistence officers. I myself
knew more than one houseful of women, who, from the moment that food
began to grow scarce, refused to eat meat or drink coffee, living
thenceforth only upon vegetables of a speedily perishable sort, in
order that they might leave the more for the soldiers in the field.
When a friend remonstrated with one of them, on the ground that her
health, already frail, was breaking down utterly for want of proper
diet, she replied, in a quiet, determined way, "I know that very well;
but it is little that I can do, and I must do that little at any cost.
My health and life are worth less than those of my brothers, and if
they give theirs to the cause, why should not I do the same? I would
starve to death cheerfully if I could feed one soldier more by doing
so, but the things I eat can't be sent to camp. I think it a sin to
eat anything that can be used for rations." And she meant what she
said, too, as a little mound in the church-yard testifies.
Every Confederate remembers gratefully the reception given him when he
went into any house where these women were. Whoever he might be, and
whatever his plight, if he wore the gray, he was received, not as a
beggar or tramp, not even as a stranger, but as a son of the house,
for whom it held nothin