no hospital stores, insufficient nourishment, a
scarcity of blankets and comforts, even of pillows. Of the small
number of the latter few had cases; all were soiled. The sick men had
spit over them and the bedclothes, which could not be changed because
there were no more. As I have said, there were no comforts. The
patients looked as if they did not expect any, and seemed sullen and
discontented. The tents were not new, nor were they all good. They
seemed to me without number. Passing in and out among them, I felt
bewildered and doubtful whether I should ever learn to know one from
another, or to find my patients. Part of the camp was set apart for
convalescents. Here were dozens of Irishmen. They were so maimed and
shattered that every one should have been entitled to a discharge, but
the poor fellows had no homes to go to, and were quite unable to
provide for themselves. There were the remnants of companies,
regiments, and brigades, many of them Louisianians, and from other
States outside the Confederate lines. Had there been any fighting to
do, they would still have "taken a hand," maimed as they were. The
monotony of hospital camp-life made them restless; the rules they
found irksome, and constantly evaded; they growled, complained, were
always "in hot water," and almost unmanageable.

The first time I passed among them they eyed me askance, seeming, I
feared, to resent the presence of a woman. But I made it my daily
custom to visit their part of the camp, standing by their camp-fires
to listen to their "yarns," or to relate some of my own experiences,
trying to make their hardships seem less, listening to their
complaints, meaning in earnest to speak to Dr. Beatty regarding
palpable wrongs. This I did not fail to do, and whenever the doctor's
sense of justice was aroused, he promptly acted on the right side. I
do not wish to convey to my readers the idea that there were men
always sullen and disagreeable. Far from it, they were a jolly set of
men when in a good humor, and, like all Irishmen, full of wit and
humor. After I became known to them their gentle, courteous treatment
of me never varied. They were very fond of playing cards, but whenever
I appeared upon one of the avenues, every card would disappear. Not
one ever failed to salute me, often adding a "God bless you, ma'am,
may the heavens be your bed," etc. Disliking to interfere with their
only amusement, I let them know that I did not dislike to see them