Beyond All Price

by Carolyn Poling Schriber

  “No, Colonel, you are the one who has stepped over the line. In the name of God, think about the pernicious effects that woman will have on the innocent souls of our young men.”

  “Sit down, Robert, or I swear I’ll have you thrown out of here and sent packing.”

  Something about the fire in the colonel’s eyes warned Reverend Browne he might do well to take a step back. He sank onto a camp stool. “I’m tired from the trip, Daniel. I’m covered in dust. I haven’t eaten anything since morning, not even a sip of water. The whole scene here is more than my exhausted nature can take in. I saw a scruffy-looking girl scurrying among the tents. What am I to think?”

  “You could have trusted me, Robert,” the colonel answered in clipped tones. “You know me better than to think I have thrown away my moral standards because I have taken up the sword.”

  “But I know what I saw!”

  Leasure strode toward the entrance to the tent. “Private Stevenson, go fetch Nellie and bring her in here. You’ll probably find her with Doctor Ludington, seeing to that young soldier who turned up sick this morning. Tell her I won’t keep her from her duties long.” He remained standing with his back to Reverend Browne, looking out over his encampment until the private and the girl returned.

  “Now then, Robert, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Nellie Chase Leath, from the fine state of Maine. Mrs. Leath serves as our regimental matron and is doing a wonderful job of keeping our men healthy and well-fed. Nellie, this is the good Reverend Robert Audley Browne, of New Castle, Pennsylvania. He will serve as our chaplain, caring for men’s souls as you care for their health. I’m counting on the two of you to work together to keep the troops in prime condition.”

  “Mrs. Leath.” The chaplain bowed over her extended hand, which kept his disapproving scowl from being too obvious.

  “My pleasure, Reverend Browne.” Nellie smiled at him, unaware of the tempest her presence had stirred up.

  “How’s young Billy Braden doing, Nellie?” Colonel Leasure asked, hoping to demonstrate her skills.

  “Doctor thinks he may have measles, Sir. He has funny red spots on the insides of his cheeks, and a blotchy look to his forehead. We have him isolated and resting comfortably for the moment.”

  “Well, scurry on back to your duties, and tell him I wish him soon recovered. You and the reverend will have further opportunity to get acquainted at dinner.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Nellie nodded. “Nice to have you here, Reverend.”

  The chaplain nodded back and swallowed a sound that might have been a snort. When she was safely on her way, he looked at the colonel, disapproval still radiating from his every pore. “She’s too young, Daniel, and much too attractive.”

  “If you must judge her, Robert, judge her on what she does, not on her age or appearance.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that.”

  “Fine. Then welcome to Kalorama Heights. I’ll have Private Stevenson show you to your tent. You’ll find we are all ready for you. The men will be pleased to have a real church service in the morning. I’ll see you at dinner.” The dismissal was polite but noticeably cooler than Leasure’s original delight at seeing his friend.

  As for Nellie, she returned to the tent they were using for sick call with a bemused look on her face. “How’s Billy doing, Doctor?”

  “Ah, the rash is spreading. It’s measles, sure enough, and we can expect a whole outbreak, if we’re not careful. When one fellow gets ‘em, lots of others will, too. What was so important you were summoned to headquarters?”

  “Reverend Browne has arrived, and Colonel Leasure wanted to introduce me, I guess. That’s all that happened.”

  “Well, what sort of fellow is he? To hear these boys talk, you’d think he was a saint walking the earth.”

  “Uh, he didn’t strike me as particularly saintly. He’s—tall.”

  “That’s it? Tall.”

  “Well, really tall. The whole time I was there, he seemed to be staring straight ahead at something over my head. I had to strain upward to see his face. And, well, something else was going on, but I don’t know what.”

  “He and the colonel are lifelong friends, are they not?”

  “So I’ve been told. But the tension in the tent was thick as blackstrap molasses.”

  “Bad news from home?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll learn more in the mess hall this evening.”

  The tension Nellie had sensed still hovered over the dinner table. Reverend Browne acknowledged his introduction to Doctor Ludington with a frown. “What happened to Ferdie?” he demanded.

  “Doctor Gross has been promoted, Robert, to the general staff.”

  “Too bad. We need a good doctor.”

  Nellie was shocked. How rude! she thought to herself. Trying to ease the embarrassment she was sure Doctor Ludington felt, she turned to him. “How’s our patient doing?”

  “His fever is soaring, I’m afraid, and we haven’t received our medical supplies. I’ve been sponging him with cold water, but I’d feel better if I had a dose of quinine to offer him.”

  Without stopping to think about the effects her next words would have on the assembled group, Nellie brightened. “I saw some dogwood trees up by the mansion today, and they’re full of red berries. One of those crushed into water is as good as quinine, my grandmother always said. Would you like me to fetch some?”

  “Do that, Nellie. Your grandmother was absolutely right. I hadn’t realized we had dogwoods here.”

  “You’re taking advice from this young woman?” Reverend Browne reared back and sneered at Doctor Ludington. “What kind of doctor are you?”

  “Robert!” Colonel Leasure warned.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes for the good of my patients, Reverend. I hope you’ll show the same consideration for their souls!” And on that hostile note, the staff officers began to pack up their mess kits and move toward the door.

  Sunday morning dawned bright and comfortably warm. The Roundheads had all learned of Reverend Browne’s arrival, and they assembled for worship services with barely concealed eagerness. Nellie, too, was anxious to hear his sermon, hoping that in his official role the pastor would present a more appealing character.

  Browne had chosen as his text the 118th Psalm, and his voice boomed over his impromptu congregation.

  The Lord is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do unto me?

  The Lord taketh my part with them that help me: therefore shall I see my desire upon them that hate me.

  It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in man.

  It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in princes.

  Nellie listened and tried to judge how this message would be received. Of course, the Lord is on our side, she thought, though I doubt anyone here needs to be assured of that. But I wonder. If I were an army officer, I would not be particularly happy about someone telling my soldiers not to trust me. She squinted into the sun to try to catch a glimpse of Colonel Leasure’s expression, but his back was to her and his face in shadow.

  All nations compasses me about: but in the name of the Lord will I destroy them.

  They compassed me about; yea, they compassed me about: but in the name of the Lord I WILL DESTROY THEM.

  They compassed me about like bees; they are quenched as the fire of thorns: for in the name of the Lord I WILL DESTROY THEM.

  It was a battle cry to end all such cries, and Reverend Browne’s voice blasted the rallying phrase over and over again. Nellie had smiled at the reference to swarms of bees. I bet there are a couple of privates here who understand that image, she thought. But as Reverend Browne launched into his sermon, holding up example after example of Confederate generals and politicians who deserved God’s wrath, Nellie found her jaw beginning to clench.

  The plantation owner who drives his slaves into the dust—I WILL DESTROY HIM!

  The smuggler who tries to bring guns through our barricades—I WILL DESTROY HIM!

>   General Anderson who surrendered Fort Sumter to the rebels—I WILL DESTROY HIM!

  Robert E. Lee, abandoning the oath he took at West Point—I WILL DESTROY HIM!

  Jefferson Davis, setting himself up as a president to rival our own President Lincoln—I WILL DESTROY HIM!

  Like the cannon barrages the Union soldiers could hear in the distance, each shouted imprecation jarred Nellie with its violence. The pressure built up until she could not longer stand to listen as the chaplain re-wrote the Bible to suit his own purposes. As quietly as she could manage, she began to move to the back of the crowd, hoping to slip away without notice. But Reverend Brown had one more denouncement to hurl:

  “All who will not hear the word of the Lord in this conflict—I WILL DESTROY HIM!”

  Nellie looked back to find the eyes of the chaplain boring straight into her own. I have made an enemy for life, she realized, and I have no idea how I did so.

  Supplies came in slowly and in an order whose logic was not readily apparent to the recipients. On Monday, September 9th, the men received their over shirts although the weather was much too hot to wear them. The dress parades held by the officers several days a week revealed a rag-tag regiment, some men sporting the uniforms from prior military service and the raw recruits still outfitted in the clothes in which they had arrived. On Tuesday, September 10th, the men marched to the arsenal, where they were issued old Springfield muskets, not the kind of rifles they had been expecting. That afternoon, the quartermaster handed out new knapsacks and cartridge boxes, although there was no ammunition to be had. Target practice had to be delayed until the following week. Back home, The Lawrence Journal reported, “We learn that the Regiment is fully armed, equipped and clothed, except coats, pantaloons and overcoats. Rather an important exception; but it is said they will have all these in a few days.” The pants arrived on Friday, September 27th. The rest of the uniforms, including the overcoats, did not arrive until just before the regiment left Washington on October 10th.

  Nellie watched all of the preparations for war with amazement. She simply could not get her head around the sheer volume of supplies needed to keep a single regiment equipped. When others complained of their lack of uniforms, Nellie looked at one of the first overcoats to arrive and shook her head over the detailing in its construction. As a seamstress, she understood how much work was involved in making a single coat. She could not fathom what it took to provide those coats for one thousand men. Similarly, she wondered at the amount of food that passed through the Roundhead camp. One day she found the quartermaster in a rare leisure moment and asked him about the numbers.

  “We’ve been here almost a month, Mr. Leslie. Do you have any idea how much food we have consumed?”

  “As a matter of fact, Mrs. Leath, I just finished those accounts. Wait here a moment and I’ll fetch the numbers for you.”

  He returned with a scrap of paper. “This is where I did my ciphering. Says here we’ve used 25 barrels of pork, 11,000 pounds of fresh beef, 7 barrels of preserved beef, 41 pounds of bacon, 172 loaves of hard bread, 162 barrels of flour, 58 bushels of beans, 1600 pounds of rice, 2000 pounds of coffee, 45 pounds of tea, 3500 pounds of sugar, 300 gallons of vinegar, 742 pounds of potatoes, 28 gallons of molasses, 14 bushels of salt, and 740 pounds of hominy.”

  “And we’re just one regiment out of hundreds, maybe thousands,” Nellie said. “Where does it all come from?”

  “Been downtown to smell the atmosphere around the Mall lately?”

  “Oh, I know that’s where they slaughter the cattle. But the sugar, the rice, the salt. It’s more than I can comprehend.”

  “We’re lucky here in Washington,” Alva Leslie explained. “Food and supplies from all over the country arrive here first for distribution. We’ve been eating well because we’re close to the supplies. Things may be different when we ship out. Then we’ll have to depend on supply lines remaining open. Or else take what we can get from the countryside.”

  Nellie smiled, remembering the purloined poultry cooking over campfires back in Camp Wilkins. “I’ll wager our young men won’t have too much trouble foraging for themselves. But the amounts still astound me.”

  In late September, a wagon rumbled into camp bringing medical supplies. Doctor Ludington, who was still trying to get himself settled into the regiment, turned to Nellie for help. “Those supplies out there are all for us, but the driver did not have an inventory with him. He unhitched his mule team and left the wagon sitting there. I need to know what we have. Could you and the other women delve into the boxes and chests and make me a list?”

  If Nellie had been surprised by the amounts of foodstuffs the regiment required, she was positively overwhelmed by the sight of the medical wagon. One entire crate was filled with rolled bandages torn from used sheeting. They ranged in size from one-half inch wide to four inches wide, and each appeared to be from eight to ten yards long. Other chests held bedding, towels, soap, and bolts of uncut flannel. There were splints of all sizes and shapes, arm slings, and crutches. A large bag held nothing but lint. Cushions, pads, rags, and handkerchiefs were scattered throughout the shipment.

  Look here,” Nellie pointed out crates that held wine and liquor. “There’s enough alcohol here to open a saloon!”

  “Humph! I don’t know anything about saloons, though I suppose you do,” Mrs. White said. “That’s for medical uses, I’m sure. Don’t you go giving the men ideas about drinking it for pleasure, nor you either, for that matter.”

  “I’d never do that,” Nellie said. She was stunned by the hostility she heard in the older woman’s tone. “Surely you don’t think. . . .” Then her voice trailed off as she realized that was exactly what Mrs. White did think.

  She turned as Mrs. Sample, the sutler’s wife, stood up from inventorying the medical chest. “Here’s a list of everything I can see. I suppose you know what these things are used for. Most of them I’ve never heard of.”

  Nellie glanced at the list. Some terms she recognized, of course, but others were a mystery. Even more puzzling were the women’s attitudes. Mrs. White seemed to think she was a loose woman, given to drink, while Mrs. Sample assumed she was a font of medical knowledge. Nellie wasn’t sure which was worse. But she knew neither opinion was likely to influence its holder to approach her in friendship.

  Later that afternoon, she delivered the completed inventory to Doctor Ludington. “We have more supplies than I ever deemed possible, Sir. Whatever are we to do with 240 ground sheets?”

  “Just one good battle, Nellie.”

  “Oh.” She clasped a hand over her mouth to hide her dismay. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to get my head around the numbers. And I have no idea what battle will be like.”

  “I pray you never do, but my head tells me differently. We’ll be putting these things to use all too soon.”

  “Then I’d best be getting busy learning about them. But I’ve never even heard of some of the medicinal supplies. Oh, I know about some of them. I was happy to see we have quinine at last.”

  “Yes, although that was a good idea about the dogwood berries the other day. Worked like a charm.”

  “Well, you could say it was a charm, I guess. But I can see it’s easier to have a container of quinine at your side rather than having to hunt for a dogwood tree every time someone breaks a fever. And spirits of Nitre. I had a sprightly little aunt who professed to having pains around her heart every few days. She’d pour a teaspoon of aromatic spirits of Nitre into a glass of water, chug it down, and then totter happily off to take a nap. Never seemed to fail.”

  Doctor Ludington laughed. “Of course. It’s a pretty effective narcotic for those with delicate nerves. What didn’t you recognize in the medical chest?”