Pension File: 1128908, 863570
P.O.: Naples, Illinois
Service: regimental nurse in the 129th Illinois
Applied: 1892
Status: Accepted
One of the issues I keep finding in the pension files is the distinction between employment and volunteering. It seems rather clear cut, but then you come across the file of a woman who is listed on the muster roll like a soldier or employee, but who says she volunteered and never drew any pay. So, was she an employee, or a volunteer?
Does that make sense?
Anyway, if you hadn't already guessed, Mary Coppage presents rather the same complicated question in her file. Her husband, Joseph W. Coppage, was a captain in the 129th (he was also apparently a veteran of the War with Mexico). Coppage stayed with the regiment from January, 1863 to February, 1864, traveling with them to Fountain Head, South Tunnel, Gallatin, and Nashville, Tennessee. The exact nature of the service though is open for debate--at least to the Bureau. When Coppage applied in 1892, she submitted the affidavit of the surgeon who employed her, proving six months service and competent authority in one go, but then Bureau official who read her application made a note: if it were up to him, he would accept Coppage's application, but according to the affidavits she was "requested" to serve rather than employed, without the expectation of payment. So, an employee or a volunteer? The Bureau evidently decided she was an employee, because she was awarded a pension and continued to draw it until her death in 1902. But the question remains: where is the line between volunteer and employee? Sometimes I don't think even these women knew quite what they were. And that's in part what makes this fascinating. The war is the beginning of a transition, women making their way into professional medicine. Even thirty years later these women, and the country, are still in the midst of that transition, and they are all so confused.
Glad I'm not the only one.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Annie West
Pension File: 1138727, 860034
P.O.: Cabery, Illinois
Service: regimental nurse with the 1st New York; nurse at Newport News and Ladies Home, NYC
Applied: 1892
Status: Accepted
One of the patterns I noticed going through the regimental nurses is that not one of them received a pension unless they managed to get a Special Act or if they also served at a non-regimental hospital. That is the one reason Annie West ended up with a pension. West was married to a William Hollins when war broke out. Presumably he enlisted in the 1st New York, since that's where West began her service, but I haven't been able to find him on the roster (told you I'd find the exception to the husband rule). West stayed with the regiment from January, 1862 until July, when she began working at the hospital in Newport News. By the end of October, however, West had transferred to the 'Ladies Home' on Lexington Ave in New York City where she worked in the linen department until the end of the war.
My best guess is that William died in the service, probably just after Annie moved back to New York, because Annie married Andrew West on April 29, 1865. Both drew pensions--Andrew for his service in the 91st Illinois, and Annie as guardian of her two children with William Hollins, Emma and George. Once Emma and George hit 16 though, the pension dried up, so it must have come as a relief to Annie when the ANPA came out and she could apply. Like I said, she was one of the lucky ones--her service at the Ladies Home in New York was well documented and she had affidavits to back it up. The only blip on the radar was after her death in September, 1910 at the Illinois Eastern Hospital for the Insane. The reverend who was in charge of her funeral arrangements wrote to the Bureau asking for reimbursement, but eventually decided to withdraw his claim when he realized the effort it would take to get the money. So ends Annie West's pension file.
One more regimental nurse file tomorrow, and then maybe I'll treat you guys to a summary of the new chapter on Monday, just to spice things up a bit. Sound good?
Also, if you have a nurse that you're particularly interested in, let me know and I'll see if I've got her file, and write up a summary for the blog. Just a reminder though, I only have files from 1892 or before. Let me know!
P.O.: Cabery, Illinois
Service: regimental nurse with the 1st New York; nurse at Newport News and Ladies Home, NYC
Applied: 1892
Status: Accepted
One of the patterns I noticed going through the regimental nurses is that not one of them received a pension unless they managed to get a Special Act or if they also served at a non-regimental hospital. That is the one reason Annie West ended up with a pension. West was married to a William Hollins when war broke out. Presumably he enlisted in the 1st New York, since that's where West began her service, but I haven't been able to find him on the roster (told you I'd find the exception to the husband rule). West stayed with the regiment from January, 1862 until July, when she began working at the hospital in Newport News. By the end of October, however, West had transferred to the 'Ladies Home' on Lexington Ave in New York City where she worked in the linen department until the end of the war.
My best guess is that William died in the service, probably just after Annie moved back to New York, because Annie married Andrew West on April 29, 1865. Both drew pensions--Andrew for his service in the 91st Illinois, and Annie as guardian of her two children with William Hollins, Emma and George. Once Emma and George hit 16 though, the pension dried up, so it must have come as a relief to Annie when the ANPA came out and she could apply. Like I said, she was one of the lucky ones--her service at the Ladies Home in New York was well documented and she had affidavits to back it up. The only blip on the radar was after her death in September, 1910 at the Illinois Eastern Hospital for the Insane. The reverend who was in charge of her funeral arrangements wrote to the Bureau asking for reimbursement, but eventually decided to withdraw his claim when he realized the effort it would take to get the money. So ends Annie West's pension file.
One more regimental nurse file tomorrow, and then maybe I'll treat you guys to a summary of the new chapter on Monday, just to spice things up a bit. Sound good?
Also, if you have a nurse that you're particularly interested in, let me know and I'll see if I've got her file, and write up a summary for the blog. Just a reminder though, I only have files from 1892 or before. Let me know!
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Estelle Johnson
Pension File: 1131323
P.O.: Holyoke, Massachusetts
Service: regimental nurse, 4th Vermont
Applied: 1892
Status: Rejected
Before I go ahead with Estelle Johnson, I wanted to give everyone a quick update on the thesis work. I finished going over the regimental nurses on Sunday and am busy writing up everything. I'm actually rather pleased with how this chapter is turning out. I've only touched on a fraction of the things I want to talk about, so that page count will hopefully skyrocket--the minimum page count is fifty, so please send good vibes my way. Since I haven't gone on to another group of nurses though, you, my lovely readers, are stuck with another regimental nurse...and probably will be for the rest of the week. After that I promise, we'll move on to another group.
What to say about Estelle Johnson? She must have been tough as nails. She enlisted as a nurse alongside her sister, Lydia Wood, when it became clear that both their husbands were going to enlist, and followed the regiment to Camp Griffen. Both her husband and sister became sick shortly after their arrival. Mr. Johnson pulled through and was discharged in March, 1862, but Lydia didn't. Her body was shipped home for burial.
Estelle's army career ended shortly after her husband's discharge when she decided to return home with him. Insert the typical thirty year gap, and we next catch up with Estelle in 1892 when she applies for a pension and her backpay. There was the old bit about women not being allowed to stay in the camps or follow the regiment on the march, and the usual wrangling about lack of records, to which Johnson responded by furnishing affidavits from comrades (all the commanding officers were dead by now), and which the Bureau declared insufficient. Johnson had more reason than most to be angry at this; she and her sister had drawn rations and signed the paybook along with the enlisted men, they should have been in the books. Civil War record keeping...aisch.
Since Johnson couldn't prove her service to the Bureau's satisfaction, it rejected her claim in December, 1898. Johnson tried to get her case reopened, even writing to President McKinley for support, but after 1899, the file dries up. Which brings the total number of rejected regimental nurses (out of a total of 18) to 14. Anyone else sensing a pattern?
Oh, if you want more information on Johnson, she has a "chapter" in Our Army Nurses by Mary G. Holland, published in 1897. If it's not on googlebooks, the Archives should have digitized it. Check it out!
P.O.: Holyoke, Massachusetts
Service: regimental nurse, 4th Vermont
Applied: 1892
Status: Rejected
Before I go ahead with Estelle Johnson, I wanted to give everyone a quick update on the thesis work. I finished going over the regimental nurses on Sunday and am busy writing up everything. I'm actually rather pleased with how this chapter is turning out. I've only touched on a fraction of the things I want to talk about, so that page count will hopefully skyrocket--the minimum page count is fifty, so please send good vibes my way. Since I haven't gone on to another group of nurses though, you, my lovely readers, are stuck with another regimental nurse...and probably will be for the rest of the week. After that I promise, we'll move on to another group.
What to say about Estelle Johnson? She must have been tough as nails. She enlisted as a nurse alongside her sister, Lydia Wood, when it became clear that both their husbands were going to enlist, and followed the regiment to Camp Griffen. Both her husband and sister became sick shortly after their arrival. Mr. Johnson pulled through and was discharged in March, 1862, but Lydia didn't. Her body was shipped home for burial.
Estelle's army career ended shortly after her husband's discharge when she decided to return home with him. Insert the typical thirty year gap, and we next catch up with Estelle in 1892 when she applies for a pension and her backpay. There was the old bit about women not being allowed to stay in the camps or follow the regiment on the march, and the usual wrangling about lack of records, to which Johnson responded by furnishing affidavits from comrades (all the commanding officers were dead by now), and which the Bureau declared insufficient. Johnson had more reason than most to be angry at this; she and her sister had drawn rations and signed the paybook along with the enlisted men, they should have been in the books. Civil War record keeping...aisch.
Since Johnson couldn't prove her service to the Bureau's satisfaction, it rejected her claim in December, 1898. Johnson tried to get her case reopened, even writing to President McKinley for support, but after 1899, the file dries up. Which brings the total number of rejected regimental nurses (out of a total of 18) to 14. Anyone else sensing a pattern?
Oh, if you want more information on Johnson, she has a "chapter" in Our Army Nurses by Mary G. Holland, published in 1897. If it's not on googlebooks, the Archives should have digitized it. Check it out!
Monday, January 28, 2013
Isabel Aldritch
Pension File: 1133530
P.O.: Cherry River, Oxford, Sherbrooke Co., Quebec
Service: Regimental nurse in the 8th VT
Applied: 1892
Status: Abandoned
This file had so much promise! Aldritch was a regimental nurse, yet the Second Auditor's Office managed to find her on the payrolls from January, 1862 to June, 1862, so they had six months of documented service. She'd given them the names of the men who had hired her so that the Bureau could provide her with addresses, and was presumably going to use their affidavits to prove competent authority. There wasn't even a hint that the Bureau was going to pull out the "no women in the camp or on the march," line. And then, of course, the fact that she's living in Quebec posits some interesting legal problems. But for some reason, Aldritch abandoned her application, so none of this ever gets worked out. I'd hit up Ancestry to see what happened to her, but all the Canadian documents require the international subscription, which I don't have. My best guess is that Aldritch passed away before she could complete the application, but I honestly don't know. Anyone on the other side of the border know anything that could help?
P.O.: Cherry River, Oxford, Sherbrooke Co., Quebec
Service: Regimental nurse in the 8th VT
Applied: 1892
Status: Abandoned
This file had so much promise! Aldritch was a regimental nurse, yet the Second Auditor's Office managed to find her on the payrolls from January, 1862 to June, 1862, so they had six months of documented service. She'd given them the names of the men who had hired her so that the Bureau could provide her with addresses, and was presumably going to use their affidavits to prove competent authority. There wasn't even a hint that the Bureau was going to pull out the "no women in the camp or on the march," line. And then, of course, the fact that she's living in Quebec posits some interesting legal problems. But for some reason, Aldritch abandoned her application, so none of this ever gets worked out. I'd hit up Ancestry to see what happened to her, but all the Canadian documents require the international subscription, which I don't have. My best guess is that Aldritch passed away before she could complete the application, but I honestly don't know. Anyone on the other side of the border know anything that could help?
Friday, January 25, 2013
Helen M. Bull
Pension File: 1131633
P.O.: State Center, Marshall Co., Iowa
Service: Regimental nurse in the 33rd IL
Applied: 1892
Status: Abandoned
Today's post is a little early, but I hope you guys find it as interesting as I do. There wasn't much in the file to begin with. Helen Bull enlisted as a regimental nurse in the 33rd Illinois in January, 1862 and served until August. We know she applied for a pension in September, 1892, at which point she was living in Iowa and starting to feel the effects of old age. The rest of the file is standard fare: the Bureau couldn't find any record of service, so they asked her to provide documentation, and Bull asked for the addresses of the regiment's colonel and of three musicians, so that they could testify on her behalf. There's literally nothing after that.
So, what's a girl to do? Poke around and see what she can find. 'Soldiers and Sailors' is still down--which is incredibly frustrating--but I managed to find the Adjutant General's Report of the muster sheet of the 33rd to lead through. And everything just clicked into place after that.
A previous Ancestry search told me that there were two Helen Bulls living in Illinois in 1860 who were around the right age. Both were married and had children. The only real difference between the two was where they lived. The muster roll, however, told me that one Elisha Bull was a third class musician in the 33rd IL Regimental Band, who had enlisted in Lyndon, and mustered out in August, 1862, after Congress ordered all regimental bands disbanded--they were costing the government too much money to equip. Lest my dear readers think that all Civil War bands disappeared after that, brigades and divisions still had bands, and some regiments privately funded their own bands, but it doesn't seem that Elisha Bull ever joined one of them.
Anyway, Elisha mustered out in August, 1862--so did Helen. Elisha was also from Lyndon, the location of one of my potential Ancestry Helen Bulls. And the majority of the people Helen requested addresses for were musicians. I'd call that a little too coincidental to be true, wouldn't you?
What does this file add to my thesis though? Honestly, very little. But it raises a few questions, like what did Bull do with her two children when she joined her husband in the field? And it confirms a pattern I've been picking up, that many regimental nurses (though not all) had a husband in that regiment. I say husband specifically because I have yet to find a regimental nurse who has a brother or a father in a regiment, though I wouldn't bet on it staying like that. I'm sure that by the time I'm done with these women, I'll have proved myself wrong.
P.O.: State Center, Marshall Co., Iowa
Service: Regimental nurse in the 33rd IL
Applied: 1892
Status: Abandoned
Today's post is a little early, but I hope you guys find it as interesting as I do. There wasn't much in the file to begin with. Helen Bull enlisted as a regimental nurse in the 33rd Illinois in January, 1862 and served until August. We know she applied for a pension in September, 1892, at which point she was living in Iowa and starting to feel the effects of old age. The rest of the file is standard fare: the Bureau couldn't find any record of service, so they asked her to provide documentation, and Bull asked for the addresses of the regiment's colonel and of three musicians, so that they could testify on her behalf. There's literally nothing after that.
So, what's a girl to do? Poke around and see what she can find. 'Soldiers and Sailors' is still down--which is incredibly frustrating--but I managed to find the Adjutant General's Report of the muster sheet of the 33rd to lead through. And everything just clicked into place after that.
A previous Ancestry search told me that there were two Helen Bulls living in Illinois in 1860 who were around the right age. Both were married and had children. The only real difference between the two was where they lived. The muster roll, however, told me that one Elisha Bull was a third class musician in the 33rd IL Regimental Band, who had enlisted in Lyndon, and mustered out in August, 1862, after Congress ordered all regimental bands disbanded--they were costing the government too much money to equip. Lest my dear readers think that all Civil War bands disappeared after that, brigades and divisions still had bands, and some regiments privately funded their own bands, but it doesn't seem that Elisha Bull ever joined one of them.
Anyway, Elisha mustered out in August, 1862--so did Helen. Elisha was also from Lyndon, the location of one of my potential Ancestry Helen Bulls. And the majority of the people Helen requested addresses for were musicians. I'd call that a little too coincidental to be true, wouldn't you?
What does this file add to my thesis though? Honestly, very little. But it raises a few questions, like what did Bull do with her two children when she joined her husband in the field? And it confirms a pattern I've been picking up, that many regimental nurses (though not all) had a husband in that regiment. I say husband specifically because I have yet to find a regimental nurse who has a brother or a father in a regiment, though I wouldn't bet on it staying like that. I'm sure that by the time I'm done with these women, I'll have proved myself wrong.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Margaret Ball
Pension File: 1138267
P.O.: #201 South 1st Street, Marshalltown, Iowa
Service: nurse in Co. I, 5th MVM
Applied: 1892
Status: Rejected
Here's another regimental nurse for you: Margaret Ball, nurse in Co. I, 5th Missouri State Volunteer Militia. Served approximately nine months (according to the testimony of the men in the regiment), or eighteen months (according to her testimony). I think she served alongside her husband, but since 'Soldiers and Sailors' is down right now I can't be certain. Ball applied for her pension in September of 1892, right off the bat. She even enlisted an attorney to help prosecute the claim, a Mr. Alex Sellman. The usual roadblocks cropped up: there was no record of Ball's service on file in the War Department, so she filed affidavits. The affidavits she produced were solid, but none of them revealed under whose authority Ball had been hired. And, of course, there was the usual problem about women not being allowed to live in the camps or follow the regiment on the march. Even a plea from the Hon. R.G. Cousins (Rep.-IO) failed to elicit any kind of favorable action. Ball's application was rejected July, 1896. Of all the things to pin the rejection on, though, the Bureau claimed that she hadn't proved six months service. Yet in previous letters they treated the affidavits as satisfactory, but unable to show under whose authority she was employed. If anything, it should have been that, or the usual line about women not residing with the soldiers that the Bureau used to reject her claim, not the six months service line. This is either just sloppy work, or the Bureau is doing some serious backpedaling, though what they stand to gain in doing so I can only guess.
Thoughts?
P.O.: #201 South 1st Street, Marshalltown, Iowa
Service: nurse in Co. I, 5th MVM
Applied: 1892
Status: Rejected
Here's another regimental nurse for you: Margaret Ball, nurse in Co. I, 5th Missouri State Volunteer Militia. Served approximately nine months (according to the testimony of the men in the regiment), or eighteen months (according to her testimony). I think she served alongside her husband, but since 'Soldiers and Sailors' is down right now I can't be certain. Ball applied for her pension in September of 1892, right off the bat. She even enlisted an attorney to help prosecute the claim, a Mr. Alex Sellman. The usual roadblocks cropped up: there was no record of Ball's service on file in the War Department, so she filed affidavits. The affidavits she produced were solid, but none of them revealed under whose authority Ball had been hired. And, of course, there was the usual problem about women not being allowed to live in the camps or follow the regiment on the march. Even a plea from the Hon. R.G. Cousins (Rep.-IO) failed to elicit any kind of favorable action. Ball's application was rejected July, 1896. Of all the things to pin the rejection on, though, the Bureau claimed that she hadn't proved six months service. Yet in previous letters they treated the affidavits as satisfactory, but unable to show under whose authority she was employed. If anything, it should have been that, or the usual line about women not residing with the soldiers that the Bureau used to reject her claim, not the six months service line. This is either just sloppy work, or the Bureau is doing some serious backpedaling, though what they stand to gain in doing so I can only guess.
Thoughts?
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Lucy Jane Fuller
Pension File: 1138227
P.O.: Los Angeles, CA
Service: regimental nurse in the 1st CA
Applied: 1892
Status: Rejected
Following the trend of going back and looking at specific groups of women, my current project is regimental nurses. Fuller's case was unusual in that she served so far west, farther than any of my other nurses. Her attorney also had some interesting things to say about the Pension Bureau--always my favorite kind of person.
Lucy Jane Fuller was born in 1820, maiden name unknown, and was married to Lycurgus D. Fuller sometime before 1861. Lycurgus enlisted as a private in Co. G, 1st CA, part of the California Column under General Carlton, which was tasked with driving the Confederate Army of New Mexico out of the southwest. Not to be left behind, Lucy also enlisted as matron of the regimental hospital, and marched with the regiment for the next four years. Both Lycurgus and Lucy were discharged in 1864 at Fort Craig, New Mexico, and went back to California.
It looks like Lycurgus died shortly before 1892, because Lucy applied for both a nurse's pension and a widow's pension on October 11, 1892, with our good friend James Tanner filing the paperwork. The widow's pension went through (I'm not sure when or for how much), but the nurse's pension didn't. It should have stopped then, since Lucy couldn't legally draw two pensions, but for some reason that never came up in the ten year fight Lucy and her attorney waged with the Bureau.
Yes, ten years. It should never have lasted that long.
The first round waged for six years. The War Department found records of Fuller serving as matron at Camp Wright, San Diego, from September 1 to November 14, 1861, and from January 1 to February 28, 1862--four and a half months--but no other record, so they asked her to either send in original documents or obtain affidavits from people who could swear to her service. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like Fuller had any original documents, and every medical officer she had worked with was dead. So, in 1898, the Bureau rejected Fuller's application on the grounds that she hadn't proved six months service. And as an aside at the end of the rejection letter, the Commissioner wrote that even if Fuller had been able to prove six months service, the Bureau couldn't have approved her claim because she was a regimental nurse.
Here is something I still don't understand. During the war, the Surgeon General issued a General Order stating that, "women nurses will not reside in camps nor accompany regiments on the march." According to the Pension Bureau, this meant that any nurses who claimed to have served in regiments were not there by "competent authority" as the ANPA stipulated. However, the ANPA grants pensions to any woman employed as nurses "in any regimental, post, camp, or general hospital." It seems very clear, to me at least, that Congress recognized the fact that many women ignored the order, or that people simply stopped enforcing it, and decided to pension regimental nurses along with their fellows.
So why, when the law clearly states these women are to be pensioned, is the Bureau throwing up this particular roadblock? Is this even legal? And I mean this in all seriousness. I am not a lawyer, I honestly don't know. Does anyone out there know if they're allowed to do this?
Moving on. Shortly after Fuller received her rejection letter, she enlisted the help of local attorney Edwin Baxter. Baxter managed to obtain affidavits from two men who had served in Co. G along with Lycurgus, but neither had actually seen Lucy working, and could only recall what Lycurgus had told them. The Bureau promptly rejected her claim again. By now, Baxter was indignant. He wrote to the Bureau asking for specifics on "how a person regularly enrolled and always under orders can be considered unemployed one month, employed the next without being discharged," referring to the gap in Fuller's service record. If Fuller was properly enrolled, and hadn't been discharged or relieved, then it was only logical that she had in fact served during the period between November, 1861 and January 1, 1862, and the Bureau should calculate that period into time served. In not doing so, they were being impossibly dense. And just to infuriate the Bureau a bit more, there was a nice little side note on the back of the rejection notice which Baxter sent back to the Bureau: "Believed to be an irrelevant letter and answered and returned by Edwin Baxter."
The Bureau never did answer Baxter's questions about Fuller's service, and promptly rejected her claim again. Not to be outdone, Baxter filed an appeal to the Secretary of the Interior. Unfortunately, when the case finally came up in 1902, it was again rejected, and Fuller was out of options. There's nothing in the file after that point. Still, the arguments are extremely interesting...or at least will be once I figure out how exactly the Bureau reached the conclusions it did. Ideas, anyone?
P.O.: Los Angeles, CA
Service: regimental nurse in the 1st CA
Applied: 1892
Status: Rejected
Following the trend of going back and looking at specific groups of women, my current project is regimental nurses. Fuller's case was unusual in that she served so far west, farther than any of my other nurses. Her attorney also had some interesting things to say about the Pension Bureau--always my favorite kind of person.
Lucy Jane Fuller was born in 1820, maiden name unknown, and was married to Lycurgus D. Fuller sometime before 1861. Lycurgus enlisted as a private in Co. G, 1st CA, part of the California Column under General Carlton, which was tasked with driving the Confederate Army of New Mexico out of the southwest. Not to be left behind, Lucy also enlisted as matron of the regimental hospital, and marched with the regiment for the next four years. Both Lycurgus and Lucy were discharged in 1864 at Fort Craig, New Mexico, and went back to California.
It looks like Lycurgus died shortly before 1892, because Lucy applied for both a nurse's pension and a widow's pension on October 11, 1892, with our good friend James Tanner filing the paperwork. The widow's pension went through (I'm not sure when or for how much), but the nurse's pension didn't. It should have stopped then, since Lucy couldn't legally draw two pensions, but for some reason that never came up in the ten year fight Lucy and her attorney waged with the Bureau.
Yes, ten years. It should never have lasted that long.
The first round waged for six years. The War Department found records of Fuller serving as matron at Camp Wright, San Diego, from September 1 to November 14, 1861, and from January 1 to February 28, 1862--four and a half months--but no other record, so they asked her to either send in original documents or obtain affidavits from people who could swear to her service. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like Fuller had any original documents, and every medical officer she had worked with was dead. So, in 1898, the Bureau rejected Fuller's application on the grounds that she hadn't proved six months service. And as an aside at the end of the rejection letter, the Commissioner wrote that even if Fuller had been able to prove six months service, the Bureau couldn't have approved her claim because she was a regimental nurse.
Here is something I still don't understand. During the war, the Surgeon General issued a General Order stating that, "women nurses will not reside in camps nor accompany regiments on the march." According to the Pension Bureau, this meant that any nurses who claimed to have served in regiments were not there by "competent authority" as the ANPA stipulated. However, the ANPA grants pensions to any woman employed as nurses "in any regimental, post, camp, or general hospital." It seems very clear, to me at least, that Congress recognized the fact that many women ignored the order, or that people simply stopped enforcing it, and decided to pension regimental nurses along with their fellows.
So why, when the law clearly states these women are to be pensioned, is the Bureau throwing up this particular roadblock? Is this even legal? And I mean this in all seriousness. I am not a lawyer, I honestly don't know. Does anyone out there know if they're allowed to do this?
Moving on. Shortly after Fuller received her rejection letter, she enlisted the help of local attorney Edwin Baxter. Baxter managed to obtain affidavits from two men who had served in Co. G along with Lycurgus, but neither had actually seen Lucy working, and could only recall what Lycurgus had told them. The Bureau promptly rejected her claim again. By now, Baxter was indignant. He wrote to the Bureau asking for specifics on "how a person regularly enrolled and always under orders can be considered unemployed one month, employed the next without being discharged," referring to the gap in Fuller's service record. If Fuller was properly enrolled, and hadn't been discharged or relieved, then it was only logical that she had in fact served during the period between November, 1861 and January 1, 1862, and the Bureau should calculate that period into time served. In not doing so, they were being impossibly dense. And just to infuriate the Bureau a bit more, there was a nice little side note on the back of the rejection notice which Baxter sent back to the Bureau: "Believed to be an irrelevant letter and answered and returned by Edwin Baxter."
The Bureau never did answer Baxter's questions about Fuller's service, and promptly rejected her claim again. Not to be outdone, Baxter filed an appeal to the Secretary of the Interior. Unfortunately, when the case finally came up in 1902, it was again rejected, and Fuller was out of options. There's nothing in the file after that point. Still, the arguments are extremely interesting...or at least will be once I figure out how exactly the Bureau reached the conclusions it did. Ideas, anyone?
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Elizabeth Dodge
I bet you thought I missed a day.
It was MLK/Inauguration Day. I took the day off. I'm not that obsessed with my work.
No, really, I'm not.
Really.
Pension File: 1001137, 562603
P.O.: San Bernadino, CA
Service: Chester St. Hospital, Philadelphia; Sanitary Lodge, Philadelphia
Applied: 1891
Status: Accepted (Special Act)
One of the chapters of my thesis is dedicated solely to the WRC's efforts to get the Army Nurses' Pension Act passed. There isn't a great deal out there in the way of WRC records, but every once in a while I find a letter in one of my pension files from Sarah Fuller or Kate Sherwood (members of the Pension Committee), and they are enormously helpful. When I found the WRC letter in Dodge's file though I was in the middle of finishing the database and I came back to it over break when I was working on the ANPA chapter.
Dodge came from a military family. Her father, Samuel Rinker, served in the Continental Navy, and then in the War of 1812. Her brother also served in the Navy, though the records aren't clear which war he served in. Dodge herself apparently served as a nurse in New Orleans during the Mexican War. Of course, she couldn't stay out of the next major conflict. During the winter of 1861-62, Dodge worked at the Volunteer Refreshment Saloon in Philadelphia, funded by the wealthier citizens of Philadelphia to feed troops marching through the city on their way to the front. She then served eleven months at Chester Street Hospital in Philadelphia, from May 21, 1864, to mid April, 1865, when she was offered a position as matron of the Sanitary Lodge in that city, a position which she took and held until August. When this hospital closed, Dodge got a position as matron at the Naval Asylum Hospital.
The position must not have lasted long, because Dodge moved out to Sacramento, California shortly after--the dates are very unclear, but she was certainly out there by 1873, when her husband, Seymour Dodge, passed (I haven't been able to puzzle out when they were married exactly, but it was sometime in the 1850s). Dodge managed to find odd jobs nursing to keep herself financially afloat, but in 1890 she reached out to her local WRC Post for help.
I don't know why, but California's WRC posts were always very enthusiastic in supporting former nurses. They certainly rallied around Dodge. They filled out a WRC "Army Nurse Blank" for her--part of the WRC's campaign to get nurses pensioned was to investigate the claims themselves and then put select information on a formal blank: dates of muster and discharge, state of health, pecuniary circumstances, endorsed by, etc.--and had Sarah Fuller, Secretary of the National Pension and Relief Committee, write to Rep. Samuel Yoder to ask him to introduce Dodge's bill. Fuller and Yoder were both more concerned with the state of the ANPA at the time (it was due up in the House, and Fuller wanted it passed in time for the WRC National Convention), but Yoder eventually put Dodge's bill forward, and it passed on March 3, 1891.
There's little else in the file. Dodge entered the St. Agnew Asylum in San Francisco in 1904, which necessitated a great deal of paper work--her pension now went to her legal guardian, Daniel McGinley, rather than her. Dodge died just after the Great Earthquake of San Francisco, possibly from injuries sustained during the quake, on April 21, 1906.
It was MLK/Inauguration Day. I took the day off. I'm not that obsessed with my work.
No, really, I'm not.
Really.
Pension File: 1001137, 562603
P.O.: San Bernadino, CA
Service: Chester St. Hospital, Philadelphia; Sanitary Lodge, Philadelphia
Applied: 1891
Status: Accepted (Special Act)
One of the chapters of my thesis is dedicated solely to the WRC's efforts to get the Army Nurses' Pension Act passed. There isn't a great deal out there in the way of WRC records, but every once in a while I find a letter in one of my pension files from Sarah Fuller or Kate Sherwood (members of the Pension Committee), and they are enormously helpful. When I found the WRC letter in Dodge's file though I was in the middle of finishing the database and I came back to it over break when I was working on the ANPA chapter.
Dodge came from a military family. Her father, Samuel Rinker, served in the Continental Navy, and then in the War of 1812. Her brother also served in the Navy, though the records aren't clear which war he served in. Dodge herself apparently served as a nurse in New Orleans during the Mexican War. Of course, she couldn't stay out of the next major conflict. During the winter of 1861-62, Dodge worked at the Volunteer Refreshment Saloon in Philadelphia, funded by the wealthier citizens of Philadelphia to feed troops marching through the city on their way to the front. She then served eleven months at Chester Street Hospital in Philadelphia, from May 21, 1864, to mid April, 1865, when she was offered a position as matron of the Sanitary Lodge in that city, a position which she took and held until August. When this hospital closed, Dodge got a position as matron at the Naval Asylum Hospital.
The position must not have lasted long, because Dodge moved out to Sacramento, California shortly after--the dates are very unclear, but she was certainly out there by 1873, when her husband, Seymour Dodge, passed (I haven't been able to puzzle out when they were married exactly, but it was sometime in the 1850s). Dodge managed to find odd jobs nursing to keep herself financially afloat, but in 1890 she reached out to her local WRC Post for help.
I don't know why, but California's WRC posts were always very enthusiastic in supporting former nurses. They certainly rallied around Dodge. They filled out a WRC "Army Nurse Blank" for her--part of the WRC's campaign to get nurses pensioned was to investigate the claims themselves and then put select information on a formal blank: dates of muster and discharge, state of health, pecuniary circumstances, endorsed by, etc.--and had Sarah Fuller, Secretary of the National Pension and Relief Committee, write to Rep. Samuel Yoder to ask him to introduce Dodge's bill. Fuller and Yoder were both more concerned with the state of the ANPA at the time (it was due up in the House, and Fuller wanted it passed in time for the WRC National Convention), but Yoder eventually put Dodge's bill forward, and it passed on March 3, 1891.
There's little else in the file. Dodge entered the St. Agnew Asylum in San Francisco in 1904, which necessitated a great deal of paper work--her pension now went to her legal guardian, Daniel McGinley, rather than her. Dodge died just after the Great Earthquake of San Francisco, possibly from injuries sustained during the quake, on April 21, 1906.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Margaret J. Fletcher
Pension File: 770636, 501987
P.O.: Harrisburg, Illinois
Service: 80th Illinois; Hospital No. 3, Lebanon, and Hospital No. 20, Louisville, from 1862-1864; Perryville
Applied: 1889
Status: Accepted (Special Act)
This was a very confusing file to go through. At first it looked like there were two Margaret Fletchers: a nurse from Illinois and a widow from California. Fortunately for my sanity and the people at the Archives there is only one Margaret J. Fletcher, and she is both a nurse and a widow.
Fletcher, an Irish immigrant, married her husband William a few years before the outbreak of the war. William enlisted in the 80th Illinois as a cook and, for whatever, reason, Margaret went with him as a regimental nurse. Eventually they ended up at Hospital No. 3 in Lebanon, Kentucky, and then Hospital No. 20 in Louisville as permanent staff members. Somewhere in there Margaret made her way to the aftermath of the Battle of Perryville. There were no bandages, so, in traditional heroic fashion, Fletcher tore up her undergarments to supply the needed dressings.
Margaret escaped the war no worse for wear, but old age and rheumatism caught up with her, and Fletcher found herself unable to perform the odd nursing jobs she'd picked up after the war. So, Fletcher applied for a special act, backed by the president of her local Woman's Relief Corps, Rhodes A. Durham. The bill was introduced on December 18, 1889, and passed April 21, 1890.
Now here comes the strange and confusing bit. In 1906, someone, probably the postmaster who looked after pensions in Harrisburg, IL, reported Fletcher dead. Apparently, though, she'd moved to Oakland, California. She put in two requests for an increase in pension, which leads me to suspect her husband had passed, and joined the local WRC Post. Then she went and disappeared--again--around 1916. After three years her post president, Mrs. Brinkerhoff, wrote the Bureau asking for her address, but all they could tell her was that she was still alive and listed Coulterville, Illinois as her post office.
Fletcher got her increase in 1920 from a general act (Congress finally realized that $12 a month was not going to cut it for these women, what with these little things like inflation and old age), and started receiving $30 a month. Unfortunately, she didn't get to enjoy it for very long. Margaret Fletcher passed away on Christmas Eve, 1923, still living in Coulterville, with her brother and his family beside her.
P.O.: Harrisburg, Illinois
Service: 80th Illinois; Hospital No. 3, Lebanon, and Hospital No. 20, Louisville, from 1862-1864; Perryville
Applied: 1889
Status: Accepted (Special Act)
This was a very confusing file to go through. At first it looked like there were two Margaret Fletchers: a nurse from Illinois and a widow from California. Fortunately for my sanity and the people at the Archives there is only one Margaret J. Fletcher, and she is both a nurse and a widow.
Fletcher, an Irish immigrant, married her husband William a few years before the outbreak of the war. William enlisted in the 80th Illinois as a cook and, for whatever, reason, Margaret went with him as a regimental nurse. Eventually they ended up at Hospital No. 3 in Lebanon, Kentucky, and then Hospital No. 20 in Louisville as permanent staff members. Somewhere in there Margaret made her way to the aftermath of the Battle of Perryville. There were no bandages, so, in traditional heroic fashion, Fletcher tore up her undergarments to supply the needed dressings.
Margaret escaped the war no worse for wear, but old age and rheumatism caught up with her, and Fletcher found herself unable to perform the odd nursing jobs she'd picked up after the war. So, Fletcher applied for a special act, backed by the president of her local Woman's Relief Corps, Rhodes A. Durham. The bill was introduced on December 18, 1889, and passed April 21, 1890.
Now here comes the strange and confusing bit. In 1906, someone, probably the postmaster who looked after pensions in Harrisburg, IL, reported Fletcher dead. Apparently, though, she'd moved to Oakland, California. She put in two requests for an increase in pension, which leads me to suspect her husband had passed, and joined the local WRC Post. Then she went and disappeared--again--around 1916. After three years her post president, Mrs. Brinkerhoff, wrote the Bureau asking for her address, but all they could tell her was that she was still alive and listed Coulterville, Illinois as her post office.
Fletcher got her increase in 1920 from a general act (Congress finally realized that $12 a month was not going to cut it for these women, what with these little things like inflation and old age), and started receiving $30 a month. Unfortunately, she didn't get to enjoy it for very long. Margaret Fletcher passed away on Christmas Eve, 1923, still living in Coulterville, with her brother and his family beside her.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
...And We're Back!
A very belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone! I'm sorry I dropped off the map like that. School work took precedence over the blog. But now I'm back, and I have a buffer built up so when papers interrupt I still have something to post. My dream this semester is to not miss an update. My goal (i.e. my realistic dream) is to miss as few as possible. I have three months to whip this thesis into shape. Here's hoping I can do it!
Anna Platt
Pension File: 808722, 504548
P.O.: Washington, D.C.
Service: served at Ward C, Armory Square Hospital, February, 1863 to the close of the war
Applied: 1886
Status: Accepted (Special Act)
My first nurse of the semester is something of an old friend. Last semester I took a class on Civil War music, and ended up writing a paper on how nurses used music in hospitals to help legitimize their presence. Anna Platt was one of the nurses I examined--her co-worker, Amanda Akin Stearns, published her diary/letters after the war (The Lady Nurse of Ward E), which records all kinds of musical activities, some of them starring Platt. Of course, I couldn't resist pulling out her pension file to see what exactly was in there.
There isn't much in the file of a personal nature, or on the details of her service, only the usual glowing testimonials as to her devoted and loving care. If you want details on that, I highly recommend The Lady Nurse of Ward E--it's a fascinating read. The file does reveal something about her life post-war, though. Platt, fondly known to Stearns as 'Sister Platt,' served for two years at Armory Square Hospital. When she finally left the service, Platt almost immediately contracted typhoid and brain fever. The prognosis wasn't pretty: Platt was delirious for three weeks and her family didn't think she'd pull through. But Platt proved them wrong and pulled through, though her health was never what it was.
Moving on, we know Platt's father died shortly after in 1871, leaving Platt and her mother on their own. Platt managed to support the two of them by obtaining a government job (I'm not sure what it was, but she was most likely a clerk). By 1886 though, Platt was out of a job and out of options, so she turned to the Army Nurses Association (love these women). Platt's private act was introduced to Congress on June 30, 1886, but Congress didn't reach it that session (seems to happen regularly). The same thing happened in 1888, despite the ANA's not so subtle nudge to get a move-on. The bill put forward that session stressed Platt's many sacrifices, the loss of her health, her mother's age (she was by now 93), and their lack of any means of support. The ANA also asked Congress to date the bill from 1886, so that Platt could receive arrears dating to when her petition was first put forward. At $25 a month, that's almost $600.
Three guesses how that went over in Congress. The bill did not pass that session, and again sat in limbo until 1890, when it was finally passed. Based on the file, I'm not sure if Platt received arrears or not. In fact, after this point, the record is blank--I only have the legislative file, not the full pension file. I put in a request, but the searchers at the Archives couldn't find the file. If anyone has examined Platt's file before, please let me know! I'd like to finish up Platt's story.
Anna Platt
Pension File: 808722, 504548
P.O.: Washington, D.C.
Service: served at Ward C, Armory Square Hospital, February, 1863 to the close of the war
Applied: 1886
Status: Accepted (Special Act)
My first nurse of the semester is something of an old friend. Last semester I took a class on Civil War music, and ended up writing a paper on how nurses used music in hospitals to help legitimize their presence. Anna Platt was one of the nurses I examined--her co-worker, Amanda Akin Stearns, published her diary/letters after the war (The Lady Nurse of Ward E), which records all kinds of musical activities, some of them starring Platt. Of course, I couldn't resist pulling out her pension file to see what exactly was in there.
There isn't much in the file of a personal nature, or on the details of her service, only the usual glowing testimonials as to her devoted and loving care. If you want details on that, I highly recommend The Lady Nurse of Ward E--it's a fascinating read. The file does reveal something about her life post-war, though. Platt, fondly known to Stearns as 'Sister Platt,' served for two years at Armory Square Hospital. When she finally left the service, Platt almost immediately contracted typhoid and brain fever. The prognosis wasn't pretty: Platt was delirious for three weeks and her family didn't think she'd pull through. But Platt proved them wrong and pulled through, though her health was never what it was.
Moving on, we know Platt's father died shortly after in 1871, leaving Platt and her mother on their own. Platt managed to support the two of them by obtaining a government job (I'm not sure what it was, but she was most likely a clerk). By 1886 though, Platt was out of a job and out of options, so she turned to the Army Nurses Association (love these women). Platt's private act was introduced to Congress on June 30, 1886, but Congress didn't reach it that session (seems to happen regularly). The same thing happened in 1888, despite the ANA's not so subtle nudge to get a move-on. The bill put forward that session stressed Platt's many sacrifices, the loss of her health, her mother's age (she was by now 93), and their lack of any means of support. The ANA also asked Congress to date the bill from 1886, so that Platt could receive arrears dating to when her petition was first put forward. At $25 a month, that's almost $600.
Three guesses how that went over in Congress. The bill did not pass that session, and again sat in limbo until 1890, when it was finally passed. Based on the file, I'm not sure if Platt received arrears or not. In fact, after this point, the record is blank--I only have the legislative file, not the full pension file. I put in a request, but the searchers at the Archives couldn't find the file. If anyone has examined Platt's file before, please let me know! I'd like to finish up Platt's story.
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