The establishment of an officers' ward added to my cares. As in most
cases they were waited upon by their own servants, I could do a great
deal by proxy. If any were very ill, however, as often was the case, I
attended them myself. Among those whom I nursed in Ringgold was
Captain E. John Ellis, of Louisiana. If I am not mistaken, he had been
slightly wounded at the battle of Murfreesboro'. At any rate, he was
for a time very ill of pneumonia, and received all his nourishment
from my hand. Often since the war, as I have seen him standing with
majestic mien and face aglow with grand and lofty thoughts, or have
listened spellbound to the thrilling utterances of "the silver-tongued
orator," memory, bidding me follow, has led me back to a lowly room
where, bending over a couch of pain, I saw the same lips, fevered and
wan, open feebly to receive a few spoonfuls of nourishment. "Aye! and
that tongue of his which now bids nation mark him and write his
speeches in their books" cried faintly, "Give me some drink."
Captain Ellis recovered rapidly, but insisted on rejoining his command
while yet pale and weak.
The incident I shall here relate is intended to illustrate and
emphasize the thoroughly gentlemanly qualities of our Southern
soldiers, their unvarying respect and courtesy toward women, and their
entire appreciation and perfect understanding of my own position among
them.
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