"KNOWN BUT TO GOD": FEMALE SOLDIERS IN THE CIVIL WAR
By Richard Hall
Women served
in combat during the American Civil War in far larger numbers and in
more significant roles than has so far been fully recognized in
history text books. New stories from diaries, memoirs, and family
letters and new access to historical information on the internet
have added to the previously published accounts of women who served
on the battlefields. The conclusion is inescapable that those who
served as soldiers or combat nurses must have been many times larger
than the commonly accepted estimate of about 400.
At the outset
of the war in April 1861, tens of thousands of young men left their
homes and rallied to the flag when President Abraham Lincoln called
for the states to provide soldiers to "put down the insurrection."
Although it was not fully comprehended at the time, hundreds of
young women also enlisted in male disguise. Their purpose commonly
was to be with their husbands or lovers, but many served alone
simply out of patriotism or the desire for adventure and excitement.
This is all
the more remarkable when you consider the status of American women
in 1861. As Margaret Leech reported, society in Washington, D.C., at
the outbreak of the war "permitted an unusual freedom to ladies.
Moving breathlessly and without privacy in a shower of white kid
gloves and calling cards, they had a role to play in the parlors;
and might still enjoy homage at an age when in other American cities
they would have been relegated to knitting at the fireside."
In other
words, this "unusual freedom" for women in Washington society
permitted them an ornamental role and some escape from domesticity,
unlike their rural sisters. "If her husband were occupied, it was
considered correct for a lady to be escorted to a levee by one of
his friends. Failing a female companion for a tour of the public
buildings, she might with decorum accept the attendance of a child."[i]
Women in the
mid-19th Century were severely restricted in their ability to travel
freely or to participate fully in the human adventure, except in a
subordinate role to men. At the outset of the war, even the notion
of female military nurses was considered outlandish, though this
would change rapidly as the war progressed and pioneering women such
as Dorothea Dix pitched in to establish hospital systems.[ii]
In a very real
sense, the Civil War liberated women by freeing them to participate
in many activities previously considered the exclusive domains of
men. But female soldiers? Not a chance! Often when women were found
in the ranks wearing a soldier's uniform they were considered to be
common prostitutes and sent home in disgrace. However, camp
followers and officer's concubines were one thing,[iii]
and women who served in combat on the battlefields and risked their
lives were quite another.[iv]
Early in the
war hundreds of young women played an ornamental role in camp as
"Daughter of the Regiment." Mounted on fine steeds, dressed in
stylized uniforms replete with bonnets and feathers, and leading the
soldiers on parade, they epitomized the optimism and romanticism of
the early war period. Their role was to be an inspiration for young
male soldiers.
Once the war
progressed beyond the stage of naive romanticism about glorious
deeds of valor in a noble cause to the harsh reality of soldiers
being maimed and killed under confusing and often ignoble
conditions, most Daughters of the Regiment disappeared from the
scene. A different breed of women asserted themselves, including an
undetermined number who enlisted in male disguise and went through
formal military training in army regiments North and South.
Besides those
who fought in male disguise, hundreds of other women "soldiered"
with a specific regiment as nurses and all-purpose helpers. Some
drilled along with the soldiers and trained with weapons. All found
themselves marching for days on end, camping in the field,
subsisting on meager army chow, and enduring the vagaries of weather
from extreme heat, drenching rain, and mud to sleet, frost, and
snow, usually with inadequate clothing and shelter.
When the
bullets and cannon shells started flying, most of these adjunct
soldiers stayed on or near the battlefield and served as "medics."
Often they got caught up in firefights and rushed to the aid of
fallen soldiers on the battlefield, bandaged their wounds, gave them
water, and sheltered them from further harm while exposed to enemy
fire. Augusta Foster, a nurse from Maine, had her horse shot out
from under her at 1st Bull Run, and continued as a field nurse after
the battle.[v]
One of the
most storied battlefield nurses, and deservedly so, was Anna
Etheridge (nee Anna Blair) whose formal title was Daughter of the
Regiment. Her fully documented story proves how misleading that
title can be in some instances. "Gentle Annie," as the soldiers
called her, went to war with the 2nd Michigan Infantry, and was
under fire on several occasions. In 1864 she was awarded the Kearny
Cross for gallantry.[vi]
On the
Confederate side, Lucy Ann Cox initially was a vivandiere and
inevitably a nurse in the 13th Virginia Infantry, traveling with
her husband in Company A for most of the war. She marched with the
soldiers, including the grueling campaigns of Lee's two invasions
of the North, and cared for wounded soldiers during combat. When she
died after the war, she was buried with military honors.[vii]
The records of
Catholic orders include reports of female soldiers discovered in
hospitals. One chronicler of Catholic orders reports that Catholic
sisters were especially given two unusual duties: acting as
peacemakers between quarreling soldiers, and attending to female
soldiers who often were first discovered when wounded or sick.
In hospitals
where there were sisters, such cases were assigned to them and
several different communities of sisters noted their care of such
women.[viii]
Margaret
Hamilton, a Catholic sister from New York State, reported that while
serving at the U.S. Military Hospital in Philadelphia--
"We received a
large number of wounded after the battle of the Wilderness [May 5-7,
1864], and among them was a young woman not more than twenty years
of age. She ranked as lieutenant. She was wounded in the shoulder,
and her sex was not discovered until she came to our hospital. It
appeared that she had followed her lover to the battle; and the boys
who were brought in with her said that no one in the company showed
more bravery than she. She was discharged very soon after entering
the ward."[ix]
Other nurses
also discovered female soldiers among their patients. Clara Barton,
whose fame spread across the country and around the world, was
caring for wounded soldiers during the battle of Antietam in 1862.
While giving one soldier a drink of water, a bullet tore through her
sleeve and killed him. Later Barton observed that another soldier's
face appeared to be "too soft," and she became suspicious when the
soldier was hesitant to have his chest wound treated.
The soldier
turned out to be a woman named Mary Galloway who had enlisted to be
with her husband. "She [Barton] shepherded and shielded the girl,
and subsequently located her lover in a Washington hospital." Later
Barton reported that the couple had named a daughter after her.[x]
Women were
represented in all three main branches of the army (infantry,
cavalry, and artillery), a surprising number of them advancing
through the ranks to become sergeants, and in some cases officers,
until wounded, killed, or being found out through some other extreme
circumstance.
By far the
most famous female infantry soldier was Sarah Emma Edmonds
("Franklin Thompson") who served for two years in the 2nd Michigan
Infantry as soldier, spy, and nurse. After the war when she applied
for a pension, her former comrades confirmed her service and she was
made the only known female member of the Grand Army of the Republic.
She was in combat in several engagements.[xi]
Among the more
intriguing Confederate female soldiers was Cuban-born Loreta Janeta
Velazquez who served as Lt. Harry T. Buford. Her story has been
viewed with great skepticism by historians and social commentators.
Other than a few scattered contemporary references, her 1876 memoirs
have long been the primary source of information about her alleged
adventures as soldier and spy for the Confederacy. More recent
research has tended to confirm some key portions of her story,
though some of her alleged exploits remain controversial and
unproven.[xii]
Malinda
Blalock (a.k.a. Sarah Malinda Pritchard Blalock) enlisted in Co. F
of the 26th North Carolina Infantry, posing as her husband's brother
"Samuel." Her husband was William McKesson ("Keith") Blalock.
Residents of a western North Carolina mountain region with strongly
divided sentiments about secession and the Confederate cause. As a
professed "Lincolnite," Keith often was pitted against friends and
relatives.
Although a
professed "Lincolnite," Keith was forced by community pressures into
enlisting for the Confederacy. Malinda's sentiments originally were
pro-South, but out of loyalty to her husband she planned to desert
with him at the first opportunity, Somehow the circumstances never
quite developed that would allow them to carry out their plan.
Keith and
"Sam" fought together in three battles garbed in Confederate gray,
until in March 1862 Malinda was wounded in the shoulder. Keith
carried her to the surgeon's tent, and in process of removing the
bullet the surgeon discovered that "Sam" was a woman. Keith pleaded
with the surgeon not to expose her, but the surgeon agreed only to
give Keith a short time to work out his next course of action.
Distraught
about the probability of being separated from Malinda, Keith
deliberately rubbed poison oak all over himself. By next morning his
skin was blistered and swollen, and he had a high fever. Fearing
that he had small pox, the physician confined him to his tent under
guard to avoid a contagion. It was decided to give him an immediate
medical discharge on April 20, 1862.
Malinda
quickly informed the incredulous Colonel Zebulon Vance (later
Governor of North Carolina and a U.S. Senator) that she was a woman.
After a surgeon verified her claim, she was discharged on the same
day. Keith and Malinda then slowly found their way home to the
mountains of western North Carolina to recuperate.
Under constant
threat of recall to Confederate service, Keith and Malinda became
outlaws and embarked on a campaign as Federal partisans and
guerrillas in the Blue Ridge and Great Smoky Mountains of western
North Carolina and East Tennessee. They guided Union sympathizers
and escaped Union prisoners through the mountains to safety in the
North. Toward the end of the war they served as scouts and raiders
with the 10th Michigan Cavalry.[xiii]
Women even
served in the heavy, grimy, and dangerous work of the artillery
service. The field artillery operated mainly in support of infantry
on the battlefield. The soldiers marched alongside their guns or
rode on the caissons. In some units known as "horse artillery," all
the cannoneers were mounted and they operated along with the
cavalry.[xiv]
Historical
evidence indicates that many women served in the artillery
throughout the war. In contrast to the women who served in the more
glamorous cavalry, female cannoneers when discovered often were
described in unflattering terms. One who served in the 15th Indiana
Battery was described in a newspaper report after the war as being a
"strange character."[xv]
During the
summer of 1864 when a Confederate female artillery soldier was
captured, a newspaper that reported her being taken to Grant's
headquarters as a prisoner described her as "a coarse featured
Amazon...who was in charge of a rebel battery when she was captured,
and had on an officer's uniform of the United States."[xvi]
According to Union nurse Anna Holstein, the woman ranked as a
sergeant and "was the last to leave the gun" before being captured.[xvii]
In order to be
self-sufficient in the field, cavalry soldiers carried all their
fighting and camping equipment with them. Typical supplies included
three-days subsistence for themselves and their horses, 40 rounds of
carbine ammunition, 20 rounds of pistol ammunition, shelter tent and
camping equipment, and various tools and cleaning equipment. A
cavalry horse usually carried about 270 pounds altogether. As a
result of manhandling horse and supplies on a daily basis, cavalry
soldiers had an unusual incidence of back problems, frequent
ruptures, and hemorrhoids.[xviii]
Despite the
physical strain involved, a large number of women are known to have
served in the cavalry branches of the Union and the Confederate
armies. Lizzie Compton reportedly served in the 11th Kentucky
Cavalry in 1863, and later in the 125th Michigan Cavalry and a
number of other regiments. A contemporary report stated that, "Seven
or eight times she was discovered and mustered out of service, but
immediately re-enlisted in another regiment."[xix]
One of the
most famous Confederate female soldiers, who served in both cavalry
and infantry, was Mrs. Amy Clarke. A newspaper story from Jackson,
Mississippi, on Dec. 30, 1862 reported:
"Among the
strange, heroic and self-sacrificing acts of woman in this struggle
for our independence, we have heard of none which exceeds the
bravery displayed and hardships endured by the subject of this
notice, Mrs. Amy Clarke. Mrs. Clarke vounteered with her husband as
a private, fought through the battles of Shiloh, where Mr. Clarke
was killed--she performing the rites of burial with her own hands.
She then continued with Bragg's army in Kentucky, fighting in the
ranks as a common soldier, until she was twice wounded--once in the
ankle and then in the breast, when she fell a prisoner into the
hands of the Yankees. Her sex was discovered by the Federals, and
she was regularly paroled as a prisoner of war, but they did not
permit her to return until she had donned female apparel. Mrs. C.
was in our city on Sunday last, en route for Bragg's command."[xx]
The following
August she was seen wearing lieutenant's bars at Turner's Station,
Tennessee, and was recognized as the heroic Amy Clarke, causing a
bit of a sensation among the soldiers. A Texas cavalry soldier,
among those who saw her, wrote a letter home to his father saying
that he had heard of her brave deeds. The letter repeated the story
of Clarke's husband being killed at Shiloh and she later being
wounded and released by the Yankees while required to wear a dress.[xxi]
General Philip
Sheridan in his memoirs reported an extraordinary incident one day
when two female soldiers were accidentally discovered in his
command. A cavalry soldier along with a teamster from Tennessee,
while on a foraging expedition in Kentucky, got drunk on apple
cider, fell in a river, and both were discovered to be female when
they were saved and resuscitated. Sheridan personally interviewed
them next day and records the incident with some bemusement,
referring to them as "she dragoons."
"The East
Tennessee woman [the teamster] was found in camp, somewhat the worst
for the experiences of the day before, but awaiting her fate
contentedly smoking a cob-pipe," he recorded. "[The cavalry soldier]
proved to be a rather prepossessing young woman....How the two got
acquainted I never learned, and though they had joined the army
independently of each other, yet an intimacy had sprung up between
them long before the mishaps of the foraging expedition."[xxii]
More often
than dramatic disclosure of this kind, the discovery of women in
male disguise was due to happenstance. A young woman was found in
Captain Gerard's company of the 66th Indiana Infantry after fooling
the soldiers for some time. One day by chance her uncle visited the
camp, accidentally met and recognized her. She was immediately
discharged.[xxiii]
Sometimes
while in camp, the men happened to notice feminine-appearing
mannerisms, perhaps a gesture or a certain body language, and began
to suspect something. Many teenage soldiers were relatively small in
stature and beardless, so those factors alone would not particularly
attract attention. But a manner of dressing or a toss of the hand
might.
Mary Smith,
who was serving in male disguise in the 41st Ohio Infantry, one day
in camp was discovered by giving an "unmistakable twist to the
dishcloth in wringing it out that no masculine [sic] could ever
successfully counterfeit."[xxiv]
During the
1861 Kanawha Valley Campaign in West Virginia a young soldier was
discovered to be a woman after serving three months in the 1st
Kentucky Infantry when she aroused suspicion by the way she pulled
on her stockings. A newspaper correspondent covering the campaign
reported:
"She performed
camp duties with great fortitude, and never fell out of the ranks
during the severest marches. She was small in stature, and kept her
coat buttoned to her chin."[xxv]
Hospitalization for wounds or for serious illness probably was the
single most common event that exposed female soldiers. Becoming
pregnant or being killed in action also revealed many others.
Surprisingly often they were non-commissioned officers. In these
cases their male disguises manifestly had been highly successful
until some extraordinary event occurred that stripped them of their
disguise.
A contemporary
Pennsylvania newspaper story reports a soldier's eyewitness account
of a sergeant in the 1st Kansas Infantry who was found to be a woman
when she died in a hospital in 1863. The Kansas regiment was
encamped near him. Upon hearing the news, the soldier had gone to
the hospital to see for himself and reported the facts in some
detail.[xxvi]
Two
Confederate female casualties (one dead, one seriously wounded) were
discovered after the Battle of Gettysburg, July 2-3, 1863. As
confirmed in the Army Official Records of the war, the body of an
unidentified female Confederate soldier was discovered by a burial
detail near the stone wall at the angle on Cemetery Ridge. She had
been a participant in Pickett's famous charge.
An author
reporting on Pickett's charge at Gettysburg noted, "The fact that
her body was found in such an advanced spot is testimony to her
bravery. However, except for an unverified story that the woman had
enlisted in a Virginia regiment with her husband and was killed
carrying the colors during the charge, Hays' notation [in the
Official Records] is the extent of acknowledgment she received for
having given her life for her country."[xxvii]
Another female
Confederate casualty at Gettysburg was reported after the battle by
a wounded Union soldier from Michigan, while in hospital at Chester,
Pennsylvania. He wrote a letter home saying that there was a female
Confederate soldier in hospital with them who had been wounded
severely and lost a leg at Gettysburg. He thought this was
"romantic" and felt sympathy for her.[xxviii]
After the
battle of Atlanta in summer 1864, a soldier's story appeared in a
New York newspaper:
"With the
rebel dead and wounded who fell into our hands at the battle of
Atlanta on the 21st [July] was a handsome young soldier in a neat
gray jacket and pants. The soldier's leg was injured and amputation
was deemed necessary. The noble youth was placed on the surgical
table when lo -- it was a female! So many `tender youths' have been
captured by us since the commencement of the campaign that but
little attention was given her features."[xxix]
Among the
numerous cases of soldiers whose careers were ended by pregnancy is
one reported by Civil War nurse Harriet Whetten. Whetten recorded in
her diary on Aug. 21, 1862, that she had discovered a woman among
the hospitalized Union soldiers in her care who was pregnant and had
to be sent home.[xxx]
Several of
the soldiers whose careers were ended by motherhood were veteran
sergeants and even officers. When a female sergeant in the 74th Ohio
Infantry gave birth after 20 months in service, Gen. Rosecrans (Apr.
17, 1863) termed it "a flagrant outrage...in violation of all
military law and of the army regulations."[xxxi]
At Johnson's
Island prison camp on Lake Erie, Ohio, an imprisoned Confederate
officer gave birth to a baby boy during the first week of December
1864.[xxxii]
This is rather late in the war for a female soldier in male disguise
to be discovered, especially as a Confederate officer. The meager
details are tantalizing, and it is impossible not to wonder what
extraordinary story lies behind brief anecdotes such as this.
As in all
wars, thousands of soldiers in the Civil War were captured by the
enemy during battles and taken to prison camps. At such notorious
prisons as Andersonville and Libby Prison in the South, and Point
Lookout and Johnson's Island in the North, lack of adequate shelter,
food, and sanitation caused widespread suffering, illness, and
death. Women were among the prisoners.
A remarkable
coincidence came to light after October 20, 1863, following the
battle of Philadelphia, Tennessee. Two women serving in different
Union cavalry units were captured, and both were taken to Belle Isle
prison in the James River near Richmond, Virginia, still in
disguise.
One, a soldier
named "Tommy" in the 45th Ohio (Mounted) Infantry, became ill in the
prison and, when her sex was discovered early in February 1864, she
was released.[xxxiii]
The other, Mary Jane Johnson, had served in the 11th Kentucky
Cavalry for about one year. She was discovered to be a woman during
her imprisonment at Belle Isle.[xxxiv]
At least two
Union female soldiers were imprisoned at Andersonville, with hints
that others may well have been there.
While serving in
male disguise along with her husband, a Pennsylvania artillery
captain, Florena Budwin and her husband were captured and imprisoned
in Andersonville, where he died. Florena nursed prisoners while
there. Later she was transferred to a Florence, South Carolina,
prison. When she became ill there, a doctor discovered her secret
and she was given special care, but she died Jan. 25, 1865.[xxxv]
A Michigan
cavalry soldier, John L. Ransom, kept a diary while imprisoned at
Andersonville.[xxxvi]
His diary entry for Dec. 23, 1863, notes "A woman found among us--a
prisoner of war....She tells of another female being among us, but
as yet she has not been found out."
This was not
the only instance when exposed female soldiers told the authorities
that they knew of other women in the ranks. Another case in point is
the story of two female cousins, Mary and Molly Bell, who fought for
the Confederacy as "Tom Parker" and "Bob Martin," respectively. They
first enlisted in a cavalry company, were captured by Union forces,
then were rescued by John Hunt Morgan's men. Next they enlisted in
the 36th Virginia Infantry.
In Fall 1864
while serving in Gen. Jubal Early's command in the Shenandoah
Valley, the two were arrested and labelled by Early as suspected
"camp followers" after serving for two years in his command. This
glib labeling does not exactly do justice to the facts.
A regimental
historian of the 36th Virginia reports that while on picket duty,
"Martin [Molly Bell] killed three Yankees and was promoted to
corporal." At Belle Grove during the battle of Cedar Creek, Oct. 19,
1864, their captain (in whom they had confided) was captured. When
they tried to confide in the lieutenant who took command, he turned
them in to Gen. Early who put them on a train to Richmond. There
they spent three weeks in Castle Thunder Prison before being sent
home to Pulaski County, Virginia, still in their uniforms.
Interviews
with their former comrades confirmed that Tom Parker and Bob Morgan
had been "valiant soldiers" who had never shirked their duty. During
their interview with Gen. Early upon being exposed, Mary and Molly
Bell told him that there were at least six other women in his army.[xxxvii]
Others
(including Sarah Emma Edmonds) told of burying female soldiers on
the battlefield with no one else being aware of it. Edmonds (as
"Franklin Thompson") was present with a detachment of doctors and
nurses during the Battle of Antietam, September 17, 1862. While
tending to the wounded on the battlefield, she came across a dying
soldier who confessed to being a woman and asked "Frank" to conceal
the truth and bury her on the battlefield.[xxxviii]
Occasionally
post-mortem forensic evidence is accidentally revealed after a long
period of time. We now know that an unknown female soldier was
killed at Shiloh (Apr. 6-7, 1862) and buried on the battlefield. In
1934, 72 years later, a gardener working on the fringes of the
battlefield found some human remains and notified authorities. Nine
bodies were exhumed, along with fragments of military uniforms and
gear. One was identified as a woman, and with her remains was the
minie ball that apparently had killed her.[xxxix]
When some
bodies were being removed from a Georgia battle site in 1886 for
reinterment in a national cemetery, the remains of Private "Charles
Johehouse" of the 6th Missouri Infantry were recognized as those of
a woman in uniform. She was in full uniform and had been shot
through the head.[xl]
Like the story
of "Otto Schaffer," a farmer in Butler County, Kansas, who had
served in the Civil War and was only discovered at death to be a
woman, reports of this type suggest that for every known female
soldier there may have been on the order of five to ten that went
undiscovered.[xli]
Why did women
fight? Except where the female soldiers survived the war and left
interviews or memoirs, little is known about their motivations. By
inference from the records, the majority appear to have been
motivated simply by shared patriotism and an unwillingness to be
separated from their loved ones.
Although one
must be cautious about post-war yarns, especially those appearing
around the turn of the century when romantic reminiscences of the
"Great War" were much the rage, sometimes truth actually was
stranger than fiction and romance really was the driving force.
William
Fitzpatrick enlisted in the 126th Pennsylvania Infantry, but died in
a Virginia hospital in 1862. Not until many years later was it
discovered that Sgt. Frank Mayne, who deserted after Fitzpatrick
died, was really Frances Day who had joined the infantry to be with
her boyfriend, Fitzpatrick.
The regimental
historian states that Mayne was not heard from again until long
afterwards when "...in the far West, a soldier, wounded badly in a
great battle, could not conceal her sex, and Frances Day then told
how she had followed Fitzpatrick into the army and become herself a
soldier and a Sergeant...; of her desertion upon her lover's death,
and the abandon and despair which led her to seek again the ranks of
the army."[xlii]
It is
interesting to note that except for her "deathbed confession," Day's
story would never have been known.
When Marian
Green's boyfriend enlisted in the 1st Michigan Engineers and
Mechanics regiment in fall of 1861, she saw him off to war in
December. Unable to bear being away from him, she arranged with a
certain surgeon to enlist in a detachment recruited for the regiment
and, in summer 1862, joined the regiment along with many other new
recruits. (One suspects this sort of "arrangement" may have happened
more than once.)
That fall the
boyfriend was taken ill and he was sent to hospital. A couple of
days later Green showed up at his bedside, remaining for months to
nurse him and other patients. She had kept her sex a secret as a
soldier in the regiment, but the boy wrote to her parents informing
them of her presence and the parents arranged for her return home.
Later when a portion of the regiment returned to Detroit for
discharge, Marian met her boyfriend there and they were married.[xliii]
As in the case
of Mary and Molly Bell, the officers sometimes knew that one of
their soldiers was a woman, but let them continue in service.
"Charles H. Williams," a woman whose real name is not known, served
three months in Company I of an early Iowa regiment. She was
discovered when mustered out with the regiment.
She was
described in newspaper reports as having small and rather delicate
hands, large and lustrous eyes, and jet black hair. "She was born in
Davenport where her mother now resides," the newspaper said. "Capt.
Cox learned her sex but allowed her to remain."[xliv]
A female
soldier from Cincinnati, Ohio, who was detected in the ranks by an
officer pleaded to stay in service. The officer did not report her
and she remained in the ranks. "She looks as brave as any soldier in
the division," he reported under a newspaper nom de plume. "I
say bully for her, and if I only could get 100 of such I would send
a company."[xlv]
Women soldiers
often were not recognized for very simple reasons, chief among them
the fact that manners and mores were very different then. Entry
medical examinations often were superficial, simply to ensure that
the soldier could see, march, and carry a gun. Two good eyes,
functional arms and legs, no apparent inability to walk and carry a
gun, and off you go.
Soldiers
constantly on the march or in extended periods of combat usually
wore the same uniforms and underclothes for weeks, and they slept
fully clothed. During long periods of marching and fighting, they
seldom took a full bath unless, during a break in the action, they
came across a convenient stream or lake. Sarah Edmonds as "Frank
Thompson" often slept beside the road while on frequent courier or
mail-carrying duty.
Even in camp,
male soldiers often were slow to recognize that anything was amiss,
perhaps finding it unimaginable that a member of the female sex
would have the audacity to masquerade as a man and could have the
endurance to succeed at it under hardship conditions. When it was
reported that a woman had served in the ranks of the 14th Maine
Infantry throughout the war, Lt. Col. Ira B. Gardner said that she
served under him for two years without being recognized as a female.
"If I had been
anything but a boy," he said, "I should probably have seen from her
form that she was a female."[xlvi]
The younger
Civil War volunteers were 17 or 18. If they were small in stature
and also had high-pitched voices, that did not particularly attract
attention. "Albert Cashier" and other female soldiers kept quietly
to themselves apart from the men, and were simply assumed to be
loners who were not very talkative.
Some women
went out of the way to practice acting "masculine" in order to
conceal their gender. Loreta Janeta Velazquez wore a false mustache
and practiced a swagger. She also wore a chain-metal corset-like
affair to disguise her form. In her memoirs she reports ruefully
that her specially designed outfit kept getting "out of order" and
she was frequently stopped and questioned.
Once while in
jail in Lynchburg, Virginia, under suspicion of being a woman, she
propped her feet up on a windowsill, turned her head and spat just
as some unfriendly visitors arrived at her jail cell, in order to
convince them she was not a woman.[xlvii]
Mrs. Frances
Clayton allegedly served in a Minnesota regiment along with her
husband. According to contemporary newspaper reports "the better to
conceal her sex, she learned to drink, smoke, chew, and swear with
the best, or worst, of the soldiers.[xlviii]
An unknown
woman enlisted in Capt. Brand's company of the 107th Pennsylvania
Infantry disguised as a man. When discovered, a newspaper reported
that "[she] could smoke a cigar, swagger, and take an occasional
`horn' with the most perfect sang froid." She returned home and
resumed female attire about a month later without explanation, but
said she is determined "to try it again."[xlix]
The Civil War
afforded many women an unusual opportunity to break out of 19th
Century conventional molds by engaging in military service. Others
gained practical experience as State hospital aid society organizers
and hospital administrators. But the story of those who, by choice,
participated in combat on Civil War battlefields has not been
adequately reported.
Even with
rapidly expanding internet files and new research methods it
probably will be impossible to learn with any precision how many
women fought in male disguise and escaped detection. All that can be
said is that with the advent of the internet and intensive searching
driven by interest in genealogy and the Civil War, more and more
examples of female soldiers have come to light.
Whether there
were more women who went undetected than were found out is
impossible to say. For the large majority of female soldiers who
were discovered, their real names were not recorded and are not
known today, whereas their male pseudonyms sometimes are known. We
are left with large numbers of Unknown Female Soldiers.
In Arlington
National Cemetery outside of Washington, D.C., the Tomb of the
Unknown Soldier bears the inscription: "Here Rests in Honored Glory
an American Soldier Known But to God." A section of the cemetery
contains headstones inscribed "Union Soldier Unknown."
Civil War
graves hold a lot of secrets, among them (as has been demonstrated)
occasional forensic evidence that women served in the ranks
disguised as men. Considering that the armies on both sides totaled
about 1.5 million soldiers, it would not be surprising at all to
learn that several thousand of them, at least, were women.
Some of the
secrets of the unknown Civil War female soldiers have gradually come
to light, and more possibly will in the fullness of time.
NOTES
i.
Margaret Leech, Reveille in Washington, 1860-1865. New York:
Harper & Brothers, 1941; p. 15.
ii.
Richard Hall, "Women in Battle in the Civil War," in American
History, Volume I: Pre-Colonial through Reconstruction.
Guilford, Conn.: Dushkin Publishing Group, 1995, pp. 197-200.
iii.
Francis A. Lord, They Fought for the Union. New York:
Bonanza Books, MCMLX, p. 244.
iv.
Richard Hall, Patriots In Disguise: Wommen Warriors of the
Civil War. New York: Marlowe & Co., 1994.
v.
Agatha Young, The Women and the Crisis: Women of the North in
the Civil War (New York: McDowell, Obolensky, 1959), p. 125.
vi.
See Richard Hall, Patriots In Disguise: Women Warriors of the
Civil War (New York: Paragon House, 1993), pp. 33-45. Official
Records, Series I, Vol. 51 includes the order authorizing Mrs.
Anna Etheridge, 5th Michigan Volunteers, to receive the Kearny
Cross.
vii.
Mrs. John A. Logan, The Part Taken By Women in American
History (Wilmington, Delaware: Perry-Nalle Publishing Co.,
1912), p. 492. See also Mary Massey, Bonnet Brigades (New
York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1966), p. 85. The 13th Virginia fought in
almost every major eastern battle except Gettysburg. The rosters
of Company A ("Montpelier Guard") and other companies in the
regiment have been reconstructed from many sources in a
regimental history by David F. Riggs, 13th Virginia Infantry
(Lynchburg, Va.: H.E. Howard, 1988). Although this is a very
thoroughly researched regimental history and contains numerous
interesting and amusing anecdotes, there is no mention of Lucy
Ann Cox.
viii.
Sister Mary Denis Maher, To Bind Up the Wounds: Catholic
Sister Nurses in the U.S. Civil War (Louisiana State
University Press, 1989), pp. 100-24. Female soldiers, pp.
115-16.
ix.
Mary A. Gardner Holland, Our Army Nurses (Boston:
Lounsbery, Nichols & Worth, 1895), p. 341.
x.
Elizabeth Brown Pryor, Clara Barton: Professional Angel
(University of Pennsylvania Press, 1987), p. 99.
xi.
For a detailed summary of her exploits, see Hall (1993), pp.
46-97. Primary sources include Sylvia Dannett, She Rode With
the Generals (New York: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1960); S. Emma
E. Edmonds, Nurse and Spy in the Union Army (Hartford,
Conn.: W.S. Williams & Co., 1864); Betty Fladeland, "Alias
Franklin Thompson," Michigan History vol. 42, 1958; Betty
Fladeland, "New Light on Sarah Emma Edmonds, Alias Franklin
Thompson," Michigan History, December 1963, pp. 357-62;
House Report No. 820, U.S. Congress, Mar. 18, 1884; Lansing,
Mich., State Republican, May 20, June 20-21, June 26,
1900.
xii.
C.J. Worthington (ed.), The Woman in Battle, (Hartford,
Conn.: T. Belknap, 1876). See also Richard Hall chapter on
Velazquez in Philip T. Tucker (ed.), Cubans in the
Confederacy, Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland & Co., 2002.
xiii.
Peter F. Stevens, Rebels in Blue: The Story of Keith and
Malinda Blalock (Dallas, Texas: Taylor Publishing Co.,
2000). See also Francis Butler Simkins and James Welch Patton,
The Women of the Confederacy, (Richmond: Garrett and
Massie, Inc.), p. 80; Minerva, Spring 1990, p. 41;
National Archives military service records.
xiv.
Francis A. Lord, They Fought For the Union (New York:
Bonanza Books, 1960), pp. 77-81.
xv.
Lee Middleton, Hearts of Fire: Soldier Women of the Civil War
(Torch, Ohio: privately published, 1993), p. 129, from
National Tribune, May 25, 1899.
xvi.
Poughkeepsie Press, N.Y., June 18, 1864. (Credit Joel
Craig, home.valstar.net/~jcraig/)
xvii.
Elizabeth D. Leonard, All the Daring of the Soldier (New
York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1999), p. 215.
xviii.
Lord (1960), pp. 73-77.
xix.
Frank Leslie's Illustrated Weekly, Mar. 7, 1863; Frazar
Kirkland, Pictorial Book of Anecdotes and Incidents of the
War of the Rebellion (Hartford, Conn.: Hartford Publishing
Co., 1867), p. 605; John W. Heisey, "Ladies in Our Wars,"
AntiqueWeek, May 29, 1989; Middleton (1993), p. 36, from
New York Herald, Dec. 28, 1863.
xx.
Jacksonian Mississipian, Dec. 25, 1862, as reported in
Southern Women of the Second American Revolution by Henry
Jackson (Atlanta, 1863).
xxi.
Maury Darst, "Robert Hodges, Jr., Confederate Soldier," in
East Texas Historical Journal, 9(1), 1971, pp. 37-38.
xxii.
Philip H. Sheridan, Personal Memoirs, Vol. I, (New York:
Charles L. Webster & Co., 1888), pp. 253-55.
xxiii.Notes
by Prof. Stuart Sprague from newspaper story. Although the
regiment served from Aug. 19, 1862 to June 3, 1865, Capt. John
W. Gerard, Company I, was commander only during August and
September of 1862, when he "was dismissed...for drunkenness."
This narrows down the possible dates for discovery of the female
soldier to those two months. The troubled regiment had an
extraordinary number of desertions in 1862, including two on
August 21 and three on September 1, immediately prior to
Gerard's dismissal on September 10.
A search of the
Company I roster turned up no direct evidence of a soldier being
discharged under unusual circumstances at this time. It did turn
up seven deserters, a rubric that could conceal the release of a
female soldier. One, William Smith, mustered in Aug. 19, 1862
and deserted the same day!
xxiv.
Cleveland Plain Dealer, Sept. 10, 1861.
xxv.
Albert D. Richardson, The Secret Service, The Field, The
Dungeon, and The Escape (Hartford, Conn.: American
Publishing Co., 1865), p. 175. The 1st Kentucky Infantry
regiment was formed in Pendleton, Ohio, during April and May of
1861.
xxvi.
Pennsylvania newspaper 1863 story on "Joel Craig's Bivouac" web
site. A soldier camped nearby the 1st Kansas said, "I went to
the hospital and saw the body after it was prepared for burial,
and made some inquiries about her. She was of rather more than
average size for a woman, with rather strongly marked features,
so that with the aid of a man's attire she had quite a masculine
look. She enlisted in the regiment after they went to
Missouri....She was in the battle of Springfield, where Gen.
Lyon was killed, and has fought in a dozen battles and
skirmishes...."
xxvii.
E.F. Conklin, Women at Gettysburg 1863 (Gettysburg, Pa,:
Thomas Publications, 1993), p. 134. Official Records,
Series I, Vol. 27, Part 1, p. 38. OR footnote 1 states:
"This was a notation at the bottom of General William Hays'
report on the burial of Confederate dead by his command." See
also Herbert L. Grimm and Paul L. Ray, Human Interest Stories
of the Three Days' Battles at Gettysburg (Gettysburg, Pa.:
Times & News Publishing Co., 1927).
xxviii.
Letter of Thomas Read, Company E, 5th Michigan Infantry, dated
Aug. 20, 1863; cited in G.A. Coco, On the Bloodstained Field
(Hollidaysburg, Pa.:, Wheatfield Press, 1987), p. 40.
xxix.
Poughkeepsie (N.Y.) Press, Aug. 13, 1864.
xxx.
Elizabeth D. Leonard (1999), p. 219; citing "A Volunteer Nurse
in the Civil War: The Diary of Harriet Douglas Whetten,"
Wisconsin Magazine of History 48 (Winter 1964-65): p. 217.
xxxi.
L.P. Brockett, Battle-Field and Hospital: Or, Lights and
Shadows of the Great Rebellion (Philadelphia: Hubbard
Brothers, 1888), p. 303; Frazar Kirkland, Pictorial Book of
Anecdotes and Incidents of the War of the Rebellion (1867),
pp. 554-55; Michigan History 44 (June 1960), p. 205;
Massey, Bonnet Brigades (1966), p. 84.
xxxii.
B.I. Wiley, Confederate Women, p. 142; from Sandusky, Ohio,
Register, Dec. 12, 1864; Massey, Bonnet Brigades, p. 84.
xxxiii.
Wild Riders of the First Kentucky Cavalry, by Sgt.
Eastham Tarrant, Co. A; cited by Gerald D. Hodge, Jr., on an
internet web site. The 45th Ohio was part of Wolford's
Independent Cavalry along with the 1st Kentucky Cavalry.
xxxiv.
Middleton (1993), p. 84. See "Women of Achievement and Herstory"
on holysmoke.org/fem/fem0509.htm web site. The 11th Kentucky
received the brunt of an attack Oct. 20, 1863, at Philadelphia,
Tenn. About 100 men were taken prisoner. Although we don't know
what male alias she was using, no one by the name of Johnson was
among the captured soldiers.
Among the prisoners
that day who were taken to Richmond, five stand out as possible
candidates to have been Mary Jane Johnson. Four of them died in
prison, and the fifth was Samuel McAfee whose military history
reports enlistment July 19, 1862, at Louisville, Kentucky, as a
private. "He was discharged on 11/15/1863 at Richmond,
Virginia." For a Union soldier to be discharged from service in
the Confederate capital seems most unlikely unless there were
special circumstances. He would have served a year and three
months at the time of capture, and the timing fits the story.
Genealogical research might be able to settle the question.
xxxv.
Stewart Sefakis, Who Was Who in The Union (New York:
Facts on File, 1988) p. 52. Middleton (1993) reports that Budwin
is buried at Florence, S.C., National Cemetery. A search was
conducted in the rosters of the 1st through 4th Pennsylvania
light and heavy artillery regiments. No one named Budwin was
found, but there was no data for some units.
xxxvi.
John Ransom's Andersonville Diary (New York: Berkley
Books, 1988), pp. 21-22.
xxxvii.
J.L. Scott, 36th Virginia Infantry (1987), pp. 46, 57,
citing the Richmond Daily Dispatch, Oct. 31, 1864; Massey
(1966), pp. 84-5.
xxxix.
Fred Brooks, "Shiloh Mystery Woman," Civil War Times
Illustrated, August 1978, p. 29.
xl.
"Women Fought and Died in the U.S. Civil War," in Women of
Achievement (undelete.org/woa07-04.html). No roster was found
for the 6th Missouri Infantry.
[xli].
Record Group 94, National Archives.
xlii.
Ted Alexander, 126th Pennsylvania [regimental history],
(Shippensburg Pa.; Beidel Printing House, 1984), pp. 30-40.
Fitzpatrick had enlisted in Company F. When he fell ill and died
in a hospital at Alexandria, Va., on Aug. 24, 1862, Mayne, a
sergeant in Company F, "unaccountably deserted." The reason was
learned only years later when she made a death bed confession.
Her military records in the National Archives confirm her
desertion at Cloud Mills, Va. She was 18 when she enlisted at
Mifflin, Pa. on Aug. 5, 1862, and had light complexion, light
eyes, and light hair. The identification of the regiment she was
serving with when killed has not been determined.
xliii.
Kirkland (1867), pp. 159-60. The 1st Michigan Engineers and
Mechanics was formed on Oct. 29, 1861 and served through Sept.
22, 1865.
xliv.
Louisville, Ky., Daily Journal, Aug. 24, 1861; New
York Tribune, Sept. 1, 1861. The latter source identifies
the unit as the 2d Iowa; as of May 6, 1861 Hugh P. Cox was
captain of Company I. The 2d Iowa was organized at Keokuk and
mustered in May 27, 1861. It was a three-year regiment. The
Louisville article is dated almost exactly three months after
the muster in date of the 2d Iowa. However, the regiment didn't
muster out until July 1865. The story would make more sense if
the unit in question were a three-month" regiment, but the 1st
Iowa is the only one from that state. No Capt. Cox appears on
the roster of the 1st Iowa and no "Charles H. Williams" appears
on the roster of either regiment.
xlv.
Cincinnati Daily Press, Jan. 6, 1862.
xlvi.
Ira B. Gardner, Recollections of a Boy Member of Co. I,
Fourteenth Maine Volunteers, 1861-1865 (Lewiston, Maine:
Lewiston Journal Co., 1902). A roster check confirms that
Gardner was a sergeant in Company I, later promoted to captain
in 1863.
The 14th was organized in
Augusta and mustered in Dec. 31, 1861. Its service record
includes New Orleans Campaign, 1862; Department of the Gulf to
July 1864; Virginia, Sheridan's Valley Campaign August-November
1864; Battle of Winchester Sept. 19, 1864; Battle of Cedar Creek
Oct. 19, 1864. Mustered out Jan. 13, 1865, at the end of 3
years. Some veterans and recruits volunteered for further duty
and were consolidated into a battalion of four companies,
serving in Georgia. They were mustered out Aug. 28, 1865.
xlvii.
Hall (1994), p. 126.
xlviii.
Hall (1994), p. 28. This story may be apocryphal since the facts
of her story do not check out. The regiment she claims to have
served in was not in the battle where she claims to have been
wounded. The alleged swaggering behavior also might be a
newspaper invention to account for how a woman could "get away
with it." See the following example of a similar story.
xlix.
Semi-Weekly Dispatch, Franklin County, Pa., Apr. 1, 1862.
Jackson A. Brand was captain of Company K, 107th Pennsylvania
Infantry from Feb. 24, 1862 until his resignation on Nov. 24,
1862.