Illustration from Nurse and Spy in the Union Army, 1864. Modifications © Jone Lewis 2002. (larger version of this image)

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This extract is from Chapter II and III (pp. 29-54) from Edmonds' memoir published in 1864: Nurse and Spy in the Union Army: The Adventures and Experiences of a Woman in Hospitals, Camps, and Battle-Fields. Subtitles have been taken from the original text.

CHAPTER II

Marching Orders

MARCHING ORDERS received to‑day -- two days more, and the Army of the Potomac will be on its way to Bull Run. I find this registered in my journal July 15th, 1861, without any comment whatever. But I do not require a journal to refresh my memory with regard to the events of those two days of preparation which followed their announcement. The Army of the Potomac was soon to meet the enemy for the first time -- a great battle was to be fought. Oh, what excitement and enthusiasm that order produced -- nothing could be heard but the wild cheering of the men, as regiment after regiment received their orders. The possibility of a defeat never seemed to enter the mind of any. All the sick in camp now were to be sent to Washington, clothes changed, knapsacks packed, letters written home, packages sent to the express office, etc. After all was done, everything in readiness, and the sick men tenderly laid in the ambulances, Mrs. B. said: "Now let us go to every ambulance and bid the boys good‑bye." As we passed along from one ambulance to another, speaking words of encouragement to each soldier, many a tear would start from grateful eyes, and many a feeble voice uttered an earnest "God bless you," while others would draw from their bosoms some cherished relic, and give as a token of remembrance. Oh how hard it was to part with those men, with whom we had watched so many weary days and nights -- we felt that they had, truly, "become endeared to us through suffering."

A Young Patient

There was one patient, however, we did not put into an ambulance, and who was a great source of anxiety to us. He lay there upon a stretcher close by, waiting to be carried to a house not far distant. He was young, not seventeen, with clear blue eyes, curly auburn hair, and a broad, white brow; his mother's pride, and an only son. Two weeks previously he had been attacked with typhoid fever. The surgeon said, "You may do all you can for him, but it is a hopeless case." Mrs. B. had devoted most of her time to him and I was often called to assist her. He was delirious and became quite unmanageable at times, and it required all the strength we possessed to keep him in bed; but now the delirium of fever had passed away and he was helpless as an infant. We had written for his mother to come if possible, and had just received a letter from her, stating that she was on her way to Washington; but would she came before we were obliged to leave? Oh, we hoped so, and were anxiously looking for her.

Visit From His Mother

The ambulances started with their freight of emaciated, suffering men. Slowly that long train wound its way toward the city looking like a great funeral procession, and sadly we turned to our remaining patient, who was deeply affected at the removal of his comrades. He was then carried to the house above mentioned and a nurse left to take care of him, while we were obliged to pre­pare for our own comfort on the long weary march which was so near at hand. We had just com­menced to pack our saddle‑bags, when we heard an unusual noise, as of some one crying piteously, and going out to learn the cause of the excitement, whom should we find but the mother of our handsome blue‑eyed patient. She had called at the surgeon's tent to inquire for her son, and he had told her that all the sick had been sent to Washington, he having forgotten for the moment, the exception with regard to her son. The first words I heard were spoken in the most touching manner -- "Oh, why did you send away my boy? I wrote you I was coming; Oh, why did you send him away!"

I shall never forget the expression of that mother's face as she stood there wringing her hands and repeating the question. We very soon rectified the mistake which the surgeon had made, and in a few moments she was kneeling by the bedside of her darling boy, and we returned re­joicing that it had been our privilege to "deliver him to his mother." Oh, how many, who come to Washington in search of loved ones, are caused unnecessary pain, yes, weeks of torturing sus­pense and fruitless search, in consequence of some little mistake on the part of a surgeon, a nurse, or some person who is supposed to know just where the sought for are to be found.

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• About Sarah Emma Edmonds
• Female Union Spies
• Top Picks: Books on Women and the Civil War
• Women in the Civil War
• Picture Gallery - Women and the Civil War
• Nurses and Nursing
• Women at Reenactment: Bull Run/First Manassas, 2001
• Reenactment Videos: Bull Run/First Manassas, 2001