ime the horrors of war
and the dangers their loved ones had passed.

For several days this excitement was kept up. All night heavy
artillery rumbled along Broad Street. At any hour of the night I could
see from my window shadowy figures of mounted men, could hear the
ceaseless tramp of cavalry horses. Every day the sun shone upon the
glittering bayonets and gay flags of swiftly-passing soldiery. The air
was flooded with music until the last strain died away, and the calm
which preceded a terrible storm of battle fell upon the city.

The glorious scenes of the past few days had engendered a sense of
protection and security. All felt that this splendid army _must_ prove
invincible.

In the Valley of Virginia brave troops under Stonewall Jackson were
actively engaged in keeping the enemy at bay. Forced marches,
insufficient food, the want of tents to shelter them from the weather
while they slept, continually decimated this army.

The number of wounded in our wards increased daily. Sick men poured
into the hospital. Often they came too late, having remained at the
post of duty until fever had sapped the springs of life or the
rattling breath sounded the knell of hope, marking too surely that
fatal disease, double pneumonia. Awestruck I watched the fierce battle
for life, the awful agony, trying vainly every means of relief,
lingering to witness struggles which wrung my heart, because I could
not resist the appealing glance of dying eyes, the hoarse, whistling
whisper that bade me stay,--because I must try to comfort the parting
soul, must hope to catch some last word or message to comfort the
loved ones at home.

Since then I have witnessed every form of suffering and death, but
none more appalling than the fierce struggle for breath, when the
lungs are filling up by sure degrees, in the last stages of the
disease. Never has the Death Angel seemed to me more merciful than
when he took in his icy grasp the fevered hands wildly beating the
air, closed the starting eyes, silenced the gasping breath.

Fortunately, I then had ample means at my command to relieve
suffering, in many cases even to indulge the caprices of the sick. In
this I only acted as the almoner of devoted, generous women in
far-away homes, who deprived themselves of every luxury to benefit the
sick soldiers. There seemed to be no end to the arrival and unpacking
of boxes.

To nearly every one of numberless pairs of socks and gloves was pinned
a pape