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with the other for brilliant effect. There would be columns of marching
troops in blue-gray, caped overcoats, rides on shoulders, faces set and grim
with the memory of what the men had so recently seen. If she did not see
him herself she heard people talking everywhere of the President who used
to go about Washington on horseback, amidst all this hurry and bustle,
incongruously dressed in his long blade coat, black, ill-fitting trousers, and
tall hat, a queer, ungainly figure against the background of all this pomp and
circumstance of war. The guard which he was forced to have and to which
he was so indifferent would come clattering behind, very magnificent, to
make up for the shabbiness of that tall man with the dark, lined, deeply
absorbed face who rode ahead.
She visited the Capitol, finding it of special interest for a fantastic reason.
She had seen a picture of it when she was small and had always in her
mind's eye taken it for the model of a fairy palace. Cinderella, so she
imagined, went to housekeeping with the Prince, after the glass slipper
episode, in just such a mansion. She climbed the broad stairs and went in---
to be greatly disillusioned. It was big and impressive; but to her eyes there
was no romance here. Congress was not sitting nor the Senate, so that the
place was given over to janitors who stood about and gossiped and idly plied
here and there an intermittent broom. There was an unexpected smell of
fresh bread through the whole budding from the huge bakery in the cellar
where leaves were baked for the troops stationed about Washington. The
crowded streets were more interesting, where through the mud or the dust or
the snow and amid the casual groups of strolling pigs, there toiled ever
forward the long, picturesque, relentless procession of the war.
She was changed finally to day duty where the routine went on always in
set order and always with infinite variations. Breakfast came first with its
innumerable trays and teapots, then bed making, then the dressing of
wounds. There would be no bandages; she would rush all over the building
to get an order signed for mote. Adhesive tape would be lacking; the orderly
who had charge of the supplies would have to be found, would be
discovered after long search, drunk in the lower regions, and would have to
be told in no uncertain terms to return to his duty. Stouthearted Louisa could
perform this part of her office rather well and the man would go shambling
back to his place with promises of no further backsliding. Some patients
would get better, would begin to be spoiled and demand incessant attention;
some would be worse and have to be watched over constantly. One woman
came every day to see her husband who, as everyone knew but herself, had
not long to live. He passed in the night so suddenly that no one had time to
send warning to her, and she came in to see him just as usual in the morning.
"Why, where's Emanuel!" she cried out in terror, as she saw the empty cot.
Men turned their heads, nurses stood still; who was to tell her! The limping
Irish orderly came up and took her gently by the arm.
"Sure, they've moved him to a better bed. Come with me, dear, while I
show you" And he led her away.
There were a few others who were regular visitors and one woman who
insisted against all the rules on staying to care for her sick son. She was a
thorn in the flesh of the hospital staff; for her sharp scolding voice could be
heard all day, finding fault of every kind with institution and nurses, food,
and management, since nothing afforded proper service for George. In spite
of her small-spirited complaining, however, she showed courage and
indefatigable devotion. There was no bed for her, so she slept upon the door
beside her boy's cot and rose up in the morning more acid and irritable than
before. The men made all manner of game of her, some of it of no delicate
nature, but she paid no attention and continued with her ministrations. She
did same good, for she was a constant joke in the ward; she was an example,
though rather an odd one, of persevering loyalty. It was with mixed feelings
that they all saw her gather up the convalescent George finally and take him
elsewhere. The ward was more peaceful after she was gone; but there was
something missing which had been of use at least #, break the monotony of
the days.
A languishing lady came to volunteer her services for taking care of the
dear boys and was put through a severe catechism within Louisa's hearing.
Could she work hard? No, she was always greatly fatigued after a bout or
two of effort. Did she find it easy to keep awake at night? Oh, dear, she
could not do night duty, she was afraid to watch alone, and was all in a
tremble at the very thought of a delirious patient. Could she help dress
wounds and bathe feverish patients' No, she was very much afraid of
infection. She also dropped the fact that she fainted at the sight of blood.
There could De little hope that she could eat the food, the salt beef, the bread
which seemed to be made of straw and sawdust, the sloppy coffee. Her
services were not accepted.
There was one man of whom the others talked much even before he
arrived. It was John Sulie, the giant blacksmith from Virginia. His comrades
on the battlefield all told of how John had insisted that others be picked up
and cared for before himself, and so did not come with the first consignment
of wounded. They wondered and worried lest he should not be brought to
the same place. Louisa went in to look at him asleep the evening after he
finally arrived, a man so tall that his bed had to be lengthened to hold him.
His face was splendid and serene, "like a great statesman's," she said
afterward. She came to know him well; for her presence seemed to help him
bear the pain of having his wounds dressed. He was tremendously strong,
with a body, which had been magnificent before the shells of war had torn it
almost to pieces. The surgeon in charge took Louisa aside and laid a duty
upon her. It was she who, when the time came, must tell this man that he
was to die.
She did. A nurse must do as she is told. She sat beside him, wrote his last
letters to that family which he had been supporting before the conviction
came upon him that: he must go to war. A mother, a younger brother, and
sisters -- he was taking care of them all. The young brother would have to do
it now. He dictated the messages and as she wrote them down, said only to
her, "I hope the answer will come in time for me to see it."
They called her in the night to tell her that he was going and that he
wanted her. She stood by while his dearest comrade of march and battle and
campfire said good-bye to him. War makes some terrible things and some
beautiful ones; the most beautiful is the regard of one hard, scarred soldier
for another. She felt that she also had lost a beloved friend when suffering at
last relaxed its hold and let him go.
She made other friends; she could not fail to make many in this strangely
assorted company. One was little Sergeant Bain who was apt to get into
mischief in the ward, like an idle small boy. His right arm was disabled, but [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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