n the fall of 1862, Mrs. Fenn, herself, conveyed to New York the
contribution of Berkshire, to the Soldiers' Thanksgiving Dinner at
Bedloe's Island. Among the abundance of good things thus liberally
collected for this dinner, were more than a half ton of poultry, and
four bushels of real Yankee doughnuts, besides cakes, fruit and
vegetables, in enormous quantities. These she greatly enjoyed helping to
distribute.

In the fall of 1864, she had a similar pleasure in contributing to the
dinner at David's Island, where several thousand sick and wounded
soldiers, (both white and colored) returned prisoners, and freedmen were
gathered, fourteen boxes and parcels of similar luxuries. Various
accidents combined to prevent her arrival in time, and her good things
were consequently in part too late for the dinner. There was fortunately
a plenty beside, and the Berkshire's contribution was reserved for the
feast of welcome to the poor starved wrecks so soon to come home from
the privations and cruelties of Andersonville.

Mrs. Fenn however enjoyed the occasion to the fullest, and was welcomed
with such joy and gratitude, by the men who had so often shared the good
things she had sent to the hospitals, as more than repaid her for all
her labors and sacrifices. Many thousands of all classes, sick and
wounded convalescents, and returned prisoners, white and colored troops,
were then gathered there, and on the last day of her stay, Mrs. Fenn
enjoyed the pleasure of personally distributing to each individual in
that vast collection of suffering men, some little gift from the stores
she had brought. Fruit, (apples, or some foreign fruit), cakes, a
delicacy for the failing appetite, stores of stationery, contributed by
the liberal Berkshire manufacturers, papers, books--to each one some
token of individual remembrance. And, with great gusto, she still tells
how she came at last to the vast pavilion where the colored troops were
stationed, and how the dusky faces brightened, and the dark eyes swam in
tears, and the white teeth gleamed in smiles, half joyful, half sad; and
how, after bestowing upon each some token of her visit, and receiving
their enthusiastic thanks, she paused at the door, before bidding them
farewell, and asked if any were there who were sorry for their freedom,
regretted the price they had paid for it, or wished to return to their
old masters, they should say--Aye. "The gentleman from Africa," perhaps
for the first ti