s Barton, a courage which
has never faltered in the presence of danger, when what she believed to
be duty called. In the skirmishing of the 12th of December, the day
preceding the great and disastrous battle, a part of the Union troops
had crossed over to Fredericksburg, and after a brief fight had driven
back a body of rebels, wounding and capturing a number of them whom they
sent as prisoners across the river to Falmouth, where Miss Barton as yet
had her camp. The wounded rebels were brought to her for care and
treatment. Among them was a young officer, mortally wounded by a shot in
the thigh. Though she could not save his life, she ministered to him as
well as she could, partially staunching his wound, quenching his raging
thirst, and endeavoring to make his condition as comfortable as
possible. Just at this time, an orderly arrived with a message from the
Medical Director of the Ninth Army Corps requesting her to come over to
Fredericksburg, and organize the hospitals and diet kitchens for the
corps. The wounded rebel officer heard the request, and beckoning to
her, for he was too weak to speak aloud, he whispered a request that she
would not go. She replied that she must do so; that her duty to the
corps to which she was attached required it. "Lady," replied the wounded
rebel, "you have been very kind to me. You could not save my life, but
you have endeavored to render death easy. I owe it to you to tell you
what a few hours ago I would have died sooner than have revealed. The
whole arrangement of the Confederate troops and artillery is intended as
a trap for your people. Every street and lane of the city is covered by
our cannon. They are now concealed, and do not reply to the bombardment
of your army, because they wish to entice you across. When your entire
army has reached the other side of the Rappahannock and attempts to move
along the streets, they will find Fredericksburg only a slaughter pen,
and not a regiment of them will be allowed to escape. Do not go over,
for you will go to certain death!" While her tender sensibilities
prevented her from adding to the suffering of the dying man, by not
apparently heeding his warning, Miss Barton did not on account of it
forego for an instant her intention of sharing the fortunes of the Ninth
Corps on the other side of the river. The poor fellow was almost gone,
and waiting only to close his eyes on all earthly objects, she crossed
on the frail bridge, and was welcomed