Beyond All Price

by Carolyn Poling Schriber

  Nellie’s struggles only resulted in the soldier gripping her arm even tighter. Then someone clasped his shoulder and pulled him back. “Let go. Take your hands off of her, Private. This woman is a trained nurse. She is needed inside.”

  “But, Lieutenant, they said. . . .”

  “Never mind. Come on, Nellie. I’ll help you through.”

  “George?” Out of breath and terrified, Nellie looked at him in complete puzzlement. “Where did you come from? What are you doing here?”

  “Later. We’ll talk later.” He helped her to climb over a pile of rubble and led her to a semi-open area, where rescuers were depositing the victims of the disaster.

  “You can do the most good here. Can you do a quick assessment of the men’s condition as they come out? You’ll know better than we will whether a case is serious or a minor injury.”

  “Of course.” Nellie snapped into a battlefield role she thought she had left behind after Fredericksburg. She fell to her knees beside a young and frightened prisoner whose head was bleeding profusely. Reaching into her bag for a handful of lint, she pressed it against his wound.

  “Look at me, Son. I need to see your eyes. Ah, you’re going to be fine, I think. Head wounds like yours bleed a lot, but they’re not serious. You’ll have an impressive black eye for a while, but you can probably get up and navigate your own way out of here. Want to try it?” She stood and held out a supportive hand. “There. I knew you could do it. Keep pressing that lint against your forehead, and check in with one of the doctors outside.”

  “Over here, please,” someone called. “This fellow’s got hisself trapped under some boards.”

  Nellie quickly looked for blood and then moved to see if she could reach the trapped man’s foot. Putting a hand gently on his ankle, she pushed his stocking down and ran a fingernail over his leg. “Can you feel that?”

  “Feel what, M’am? I don’t hurt at all, but I can’t seem to move.”

  She pinched him hard. “Now?”

  “No, M’am.”

  “All right. Just lie still for a moment while we figure out how to get you out from under that beam. Can someone find me a wide plank we can slip under his back?”

  “Why don’t we pull him out first and then worry about finding a way to carry him?”

  “Because he has a serious spinal injury. If you pull him out, you’ll kill him.”

  And so the day went. Nellie examined victim after victim, offering reassurance to those with minor injuries and directing the more serious cases to the waiting ambulance wagons outside. It was late afternoon before the captain of the rescue squad came in to thank her for her efforts.

  “That’s all of them,” he said. “Everyone has been accounted for. We’ve lost six men and sent ninety-one to Hospital #19 for treatment. But we’re lucky there weren’t more casualties.”

  “It seems silly to ask now, but does anyone know what happened?”

  “Apparently the prisoners were headed down from the fifth floor to go to breakfast. The stairway tore away from the wall under their weight, and then the other floors collapsed under the weight of the falling debris. The lucky ones were those who had the furthest to fall but ended up on top of the heap. Our deaths occurred among those at the bottom. We’re glad you were here, M’am. Good thing Lieutenant Earnest found you.”

  “Lieutenant? George?” Nellie looked around to find him standing behind her. “What’s going on? Since when are you a lieutenant? And what were you doing here?”

  “It’s a long story, Nellie. I was going to suggest I tell you all about it over dinner. But if I’m as dirty and blood-streaked as you are, we probably shouldn’t be seen in public.”

  Nellie laughed. “I think you’re right, but I’m starving. We’ve been at this all day. Why don’t you come back to my hospital with me. We can get washed up, and I’ll ask the cook to find something for us to make up for today’s missed meals.”

  Nellie was too exhausted to notice the raised eyebrows and knowing smiles that greeted her as she and George stopped in the dining room. “Bertha, we’re back from helping with the casualties over at Maxwell House, and neither of us has eaten in hours. Is there anything left over from lunch, or ready in advance of dinner?”

  “Yes, M’am. I’ve got a nice Brunswick stew that’s simmering away on a back burner, and fresh bread’s about to pop out of the oven. Will that do?”

  “Perfect. If you’ll show Lieutenant Earnest where the men’s cloakroom is, I’ll stop by my quarters, and then we’ll be ready to eat. Can you tuck us away somewhere quiet? It’s been nerve-wrackingly noisy all day over there.”

  Bertha smiled behind her hand and then nodded solemnly. “Yes’m. I’ll set you up some plates in that small meeting room across the way.”

  George and Nellie began eating immediately when Bertha served their dinner. Both were too famished to make polite conversation. After a few bites, George looked up at Nellie apprehensively. “I know you asked me to stay away, Nellie, and I’ve tried to do that, but it’s good to see you again.”

  “And you, George. But how did you manage to drop from the sky at the moment when I needed you?”

  “Perhaps I’m really your guardian angel,” he suggested.

  “I doubt that. Seriously, what were you doing there? I thought you were in Chattanooga with the general.”

  “I was part of the unit that delivered the prisoners from Chickamauga. As a matter of fact, I was in the Maxwell House barracks moments before it collapsed.”

  “Oh, no! You might have been killed.”

  “That fact has not escaped my notice, believe me. I had just left when I heard the rumble behind me. When I turned to see what was going on, the floors were coming down.” He shuddered at the memory. “And then you were there, being pushed away by that young private, and my only thought was to get you to the men who needed you.”

  “Well, the rescue was most welcome. Now, what about this lieutenant business?”

  “My promotion’s new. General Rosecrans has asked me to become commander of a company of the Thirteenth U. S. Colored Infantry.”

  “Really? I’ve never even heard of them.”

  “That’s because they don’t exist yet. We’re about to start recruiting efforts here in Nashville among the free blacks and emancipated slaves. They’ll be put through some basic training, and then they—we—are to be employed as guards and laborers while a railroad line is extended from Nashville to the Tennessee River.”

  “I like the idea of giving the freed blacks a way to serve their country. It should provide much needed employment, as well as giving them some self-pride. When I was in South Carolina with the Roundheads, I learned the slaves there were capable of much more than anyone gave them credit for.”

  “I’ve been hoping to have a chance to talk to you about that. Not tonight—we’re both too exhausted. But you’ve had experience dealing with newly-freed slaves, and I’d value your suggestions on how I can best do my job.”

  That set the stage for a renewed friendship. Nellie and George were both swamped with responsibilities, but now and then they found time to share a couple of hours. Perhaps unwittingly, George had found one of the keys to Nellie’s affection. She tended to resist any attempt to instruct her or assist her, but she could not resist reaching out when someone needed her. They met now and then to discuss George’s new command. Nellie had several suggestions to make, most of them emphasizing the need to respect the cultural differences the colored troops brought to the army experience. George, for his part, had much to learn, and since his lessons made Nellie smile, he was her eager pupil.

  Nellie continued to face the demands of overflowing hospital wards, assisted now by several recruits from the Ladies Aid Society of Philadelphia. True to her promise, Mrs. John Harris came to Nashville at the beginning of November with several assistants in tow. Other help arrived, too, including a group of volunteer surgeons from Indiana and nurses sent from the Sisters of Charity in Cincinnati. General R
osecrans provided Nellie with papers that authorized her to requisition whatever she needed for her patients. With Nellie directing their efforts, the newcomers soon had the hospitals of Nashville running smoothly. Nellie even managed to send Mrs. Harris to Louisville for turkeys and all the accompaniments to provide Thanksgiving dinner for every hospital patient.

  Meanwhile, George and his troops helped to lay seventy-five miles of railroad track. When the line was finished, it proved to be a key factor in breaking the remaining strength of the Confederate forces. This rail link allowed supplies to be transported via the Tennessee River, conveyed directly to Nashville, and then distributed to General Sherman’s army as he marched through Georgia.

  By May, 1864, George’s role in that success brought him once again to the attention of his superiors. He returned to Nashville to serve in the Headquarters of the Army of the Cumberland. He also had a pending job offer from the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. His first act, naturally, was to call upon Nellie at Hospital #3.

  “Come have dinner with me. I have all sorts of things to discuss with you.” He reached for her hand and pulled her from her chair.

  “Oh, I can’t possibly leave right this minute, George. I have paperwork to complete, and doctors’ rounds to observe. And there’s no one to supervise the night duty nurses in the wards.”

  “Nonsense. This place runs so well they probably won’t even notice you’re gone.”

  “But. . . .”

  “Come on, Nellie. We’ve had this conversation before. I don’t make many demands on your time, but right now I need you.”

  Once they were settled at a quiet table at the City Hotel, George took a deep breath and began. “The war is winding down, Nellie. Sherman’s march on Atlanta is about to begin, and that will surely spell the end of Confederate strongholds in Georgia and South Carolina. It’s only a matter of time. Have you thought about what you intend to do after the war?”

  “I suppose I’ll keep right on doing what I’m doing now,” she answered. “The end of the war will not mean a miraculous end to the suffering it has engendered. Our wounded soldiers will need medical attention for a long time.”

  “Yes, but they’ll be making the transition to civilian hospitals. Ever since General Rousseau took over Nashville Headquarters from General Rosecrans, he’s been making contingency plans to close the hospitals here. The citizens of Nashville are going to want their homes and businesses back.”

  Nellie’s eyes widened in alarm for a moment before she straightened her shoulders. “I suppose I hadn’t thought about that. Well, then, I shall do what I have done in the past. If someone moves my patients, I’ll accompany them and keep on treating them wherever they go.”

  “Don’t you think it’s about time you start worrying about Nellie Chase instead of the anonymous soldiers who pass through your wards?”

  George held up his hands to stem her coming protests. “All right. I won’t argue with you. But let me tell you about my own dilemma concerning the end of the war. My enlistment was for a three-year period. It will be over in December. I could sign on again, but I’ve been given a tempting offer. Mr. Guthrie, who runs the Louisville and Nashville Railroad, came out to observe our new rail line. He seems to have been particularly impressed with the records I’d been keeping. Called them the ‘most meticulous example of good book keeping he had ever seen.’ The upshot is, he’s offered me a job with the L&N as their chief bookkeeper. He’s willing to wait till December, but no later.”

  “So you’d be moving to Louisville?”

  “No. He says I can remain in Nashville if I want. It doesn’t matter which end of the railroad I choose to make my headquarters.”

  Nellie was trying to conceal her relief. “I think it’s a wonderful chance, George. Jobs are going to be scarce when all the soldiers return home at once after the war. You’ll be lucky to have secured your own position ahead of time. But don’t you want to return to your family in Philadelphia?”

  “You know the situation there. I love my family, but we get along better from a distance. I can’t say the same about you and me, however. I want to be wherever you are. If you’ll allow me to be underfoot all the time, that is.”

  “Well, I’d be delighted to have you here, but I don’t want you making that kind of decision for my sake.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? I want you to marry me, Nellie. We can get married here in Nashville now, before the end of the war. I will have a steady job with the L&N railroad, and later we’ll go wherever the duties of that job take us.”

  “No!” Nellie started to stand, and then sank back into her chair as she realized tears were welling. “I’d be afraid to marry you, George.” Nellie was shocked she could actually say those words, but this was George, after all, the friend to whom she had been able to confess all of her darkest secrets. “I’ve never been ‘in love’ and I’ve almost never witnessed a truly loving marriage. I don’t know what it is I feel for you, and I can’t guarantee I will always feel the way I do now. How can I make promises when I can’t be sure I can keep them?”

  “You’ve lived your life one day at a time, haven’t you? That’s what you indicated you would do about your own job.”

  “Well, I’ve learned to do that at work, yes, but. . . .”

  “So that’s how people get through a marriage, too—one day at a time. We’re good friends, Nellie, and beyond that, I happen to be tail over teacups in love with you. I want to wake up each morning knowing you are there beside me, that no matter what troubles the world has to offer us, we will be strong enough to overcome them, as long as we face those troubles together. I trust you with my life, and I would lay down my life for yours. That’s what love is all about, even if you don’t recognize it—yet!”

  It was destined to be a happy marriage. The Camerons pitched in to offer their home for the ceremony, and members of George’s old cavalry regiment turned out to give the affair a formal military touch. On June 8, 1864, Nellie Chase became Mrs. George W. Earnest.

  The year of separation had given both Nellie and George the time to hash out their areas of disagreement and to fill in their appreciation of each other as individuals. Nellie’s last lingering fear that she would be unable to love her new husband evaporated when she walked into her new house for the first time. There, warming herself in a spot of sunlight, was a small calico cat. Her fur was long, and her marking were so distinctly irregular that she looked like a fluffy little clown.

  “Oh, George,” Nellie cried. She fell to her knees and held out her hand. The kitten looked at her and yawned. Then she stretched, one leg after another, before approaching Nellie. She sniffed curiously, and then rubbed the side of her head against Nellie’s outstretched hand.

  “I think she’s saying, ‘Welcome home, Momma’,” George said.

  Nellie scooped up the kitten, who purred contentedly under Nellie’s chin. Struggling to her feet, Nellie threw her free arm around George’s neck. “I don’t know what to say. I have never received a gift of love like this one.”

  “Are you talking about the kitten’s love?” George grinned at her.

  “No, yours. You always know exactly what I need. I can’t believe you actually had a cat waiting for me! Oh, she’s adorable. Does she have a name?” Nellie’s excitement was bubbling over.

  “I’ve been calling her Patches, but you are free to change that. She’s your cat.”

  “Patches is perfect. That’s where I found her—in a patch of sunlight—and her fur is in patches, too. Oh, George,” she cried as the happy tears flowed. The kitten, who was being crushed between them, struggled free and jumped to the floor, where she set about the important task of grooming the fur Nellie’s enthusiasm had ruffled. Nellie laughed through her tears. “The perfect cat. She even knows when to leave us alone!”