Under the guns : $b A woman's reminiscences of the Civil WarWittenmyer, Annie
History
Under the guns : $b A woman's reminiscences of the Civil War
Wittenmyer, Annie
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Personal narratives
She reached Washington without delay, and before boarding the train
for Philadelphia saw the coffin of her son put on board. But when she
reached Philadelphia she found that by some mistake the remains had
been left at Baltimore. She telegraphed back, and waited in the station
till they were brought to her, and then followed them to her own house.
Afterward her husband was killed; and she went to the front again, and
secured his body, and brought it home for interment. Who shall measure
the anguish of the women who watched at home till there was one dead in
almost every house?
A mother in Maine received the news that her only son had been wounded
and taken prisoner, and had been sent to Richmond. “I am going to
him,” she said. Her husband and neighbors tried to dissuade her.
On her journey toward the front she called on Governor Andrew of
Massachusetts. “My dear madam,” he said, “I can do nothing for you. The
only thing I could do would be to give you a letter of introduction to
President Lincoln.”
“Well, give me that.”
When she reached Washington she called on the President, and after
a weary waiting was shown into his presence. “Why, madam,” said the
great-hearted Lincoln, “I can do nothing for you. If he were within our
own lines, I would give you a pass, but I cannot send you to Richmond.
At the best, I could only get you beyond our own pickets.”
“Then, please give me a pass beyond your pickets.”
This was done, and she passed the Union lines to fall into the hands of
the Confederate pickets. The latter refused to allow her to proceed.
“I am going right on to Richmond. Shoot if you will.” And she
started on. They did not shoot, but took her into camp, and from the
headquarters of that command she was sent on to Richmond.
When she reached the hospital where her son lay, the surgeon refused to
allow her to see him.
“I must see him! I’m sure it will do him good to see his mother!”
As soon as the son saw her, he cried out,--
“There is my mother! I knew she would come. I’ll get well now.” And
sure enough he did.
THE SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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