Adelaide E. Spurgeon, New York, New York

"Almost before the echoes of the gun which marked the commencement of hostilities between the North and the South had died away, Hon. Henry J. Raymond, of the New York Times, with that keen foresight which marked his career as a newspaperman, had formed the idea of organizing a band of ladies to proceed to Washington in the capacity of nurses, should they be needed. Several meetngs were held at the Cooper Institute or the Woman’s Library, under the auspices of Miss Elizabeth Powell who was selected for this purpose by Mr. Raymond.

At the first meeting, many of those who were confidently expected to go, declined their enthusiasms, which had worked itself to fever heat at the commencement, having died out, and they decided to remain with the "home guard." Six nurses were called as they had been selected, and when my name, Adelaide E. Thompson, was pronounced and I arose (I being very slightly built at that time), a gentleman in the hall inquired what she expected to do with that little creature; to which Miss Powell responded, "That ‘little creature’ is one of the reliables."

The group went by steamer to Baltimore, leaving May 3, 1861, and enduring a severe storm overnight. Since the rails had been torn up during the previous month’s insurrection to prevent federal troops from relieving Washington, from the city they chartered an omnibus to Washington, finally arriving there on their fourth day of travel. They found that the only hospital open at the time was a smallpox one (the First Battle of Bull Run had not yet occurred), and that a nurse was badly needed.

"One pretty little woman, the youngest of the party, whose husband was here in one of the regiments, declared she could not think of such a thing, for if she took the disease and got her face all marked up, her husband would never forgive her. It is but justice to say that she proved herself very efficient in another place. The oldest lady said she could not think of such a thing for she had not felt well since she left New York and she only felt able to read the Bible, and the poor fellows must be so sick that reading would only weary them. The others being of the opinion that "silence is golden," remained silent. To me, anything was better than inaction, and I volunteered my services. . . .after a mournful dinner with my comrades I took my little bundle of clothing, and, accompanied by one of the ladies departed for the hospital. My friend bade me good-bye on the opposite side of the street, and with some trepidation I crossed over and entered the building. I was met by the physician, Dr. Robert I. Thomas, from Iowa. I handed him the letter from the surgeon-general appointing me a nurse in the small-pox hospital; and thus as the first nurse in the District of Columbia, on the 16th day of May, I entered upon my duties."

Spurgeon described deplorable conditions that she mainly bore alone. The doctor would leave after only a few hours work each day, the steward soon followed returning drunk each night, the laundress "pretended to wash" and the cook’s concoctions mainly consisted of making broth out of fat bacon and hot water. So Spurgeon took up the cooking along with her other duties.

"We had plenty of flour, and I proceeded to make up a large batch of bread which was greatly relished by the boys; but as to the meat,---here words fail me. Never before, or since, have I seen such meat. It would have required the power of a Hercules to masticate it. The sugar was of the consistency of mud, and, about the same color, and tasted more like salt than sugar. Butter was not to be thought of, and vegetables of any kind were out of the question."

Spurgeon made a trip to Ne w York to raise supplies from friends and returned with many to find that the hospital had many added patients. "As the doctor did not come, I placed a cot in a corner of his office, where I could obtain two or three hours sleep during the night. I have passed many nights entirely alone in the building, except for the sick men; sometimes three or four bodies lay in the adjoining room, waiting for the morning light to bring the undertaker. The first man died from blood-poisoning, caused by impure vaccine put in his arm before he left Michigan. The weather was warm, and before his comrades arrived to bury him, the body burst. We were obliged to remove all the sick men to a tent in the adjoining lot, while the house was flooded with water."

After the battle of Bull Run wounded flooded in and they established a second hospital. Spurgoen wrote, "It is impossible to describe the horrors of that long, hot summer." There was often no water. They could bury no bodies for a period of time. The laundress died "at her post" from over work. Spurgeon, herself, contracted blood poisoning from which she never fully recovered and had to resign the service. Yet she found a new vocation in which she ultimately served two years:

"I then entered the secret service at the provost marshal’s headquarters. I was sent for one day by the judge advocate, who wished me to interview two parties who had been taken out of the ranks as a regiment was marching up the avenue. I went into a back room, where I saw two boyish-looking persons in uniform.

After a short conversation they owned up to being of the gentler sex; but the deception was perfect. One was the wife of one of the men, and the other was engaged to one. They had traveled hundreds of miles with the regiment, and would probably have gone to the front but for the rascally behavior of one of the lieutenants, who was in the secret. He offered some insult to the young wife, which she resented, and in a spirit of revenge he signaled the provost guard, and had them taken out of the ranks. They both wept bitterly, not only at the disgrace, but at being obliged to return to their homes, leaving their loved ones, perhaps never to meet them again.

With some difficulty clothing was procured, and they were sent home very much wiser women than when they left."

CIVIL WAR NURSING