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Women of The Civil War.
This tale is fiction based on real life events. There were about 2,000
women in the U S Civil War on both sides as fighters. Their reasons
varried. Peace. Belle.
Hello everyone. This is Bobbie again. I was reading some more journals
of my husband Barry's ancestors. This story comes from Captian Adam
Remington and takes place durning and shortly after the U S Civil War.
Today is 21 March in the year of our Lord 1863. This war has lasted
too long. The Rebels have shown a great passion for their cause. I can
agree with some of their points. I don't like slavery. But the wages
that most factory owners pay and the conditions that their force their
workers to live in is just short of slavery. If a man loses his job,
he can lose everything that he has. Just about all that he owns is
controlled by his employer. He must pay rent or mortgage to his
employeer. Buy food and other household goods at the company store. He
can't buy elsewhere for he is paid in script. The script is only good
at places that are owned by his employeer. The prices are too high for
the value of the goods. If the man goes into debt, he works to pay it
off at a rate that could never be payed until he is dead or longer.
I feel myself lucky that my father owned large land tracts and farmed
some of them in a rotational method. We would also cut down large
trees and replant seeds from the trees that we cut down. Other than
the trees that we did use as firewood, we sold them to the railroad.
In a way, we were farming the forest like we would farm our fields.
I must admit that we will also have very good apple trees. We have
planted more of them and used the dead ones for our own use.
Today I added three men to my company. The first two looked like they
could lift a cannon. They were fair shots with a rifle. They would do.
The third was called Frank Thompson. Pvt. Thompson was a small man. He
looked more like a boy. He was a crack shot and an excellent horseman.
Short help is better than no help. Pvt. Thompson became a courier and
a stretcher bearer.
Pvt Thompson also had good penmanship. He was better educated than
most of my troops. The ones who had touble reading and writting would
ask Pvt. Thompson for help when it came to sending or reading letters
form home. The few braggards that tried to harm him were met by the
ones who he helped and few that just liked Thompson for what ever
reason. I decided to make Thompson to act as a scribe if I needed to.
22 June 1863. We were on the march in Pennsylvania. I had made
Thompson a Corporal. He showed very good skills and leadership. More
of my troops were learning their skills not only as soldiers, but on
things that they would need once this war was over.
1 July 1863. We are now outside of Gettysburg. Rebel troops were sited
and I was waiting for orders to send in my troops. I had every trooper
fill all their canteens and anything else we had that could hold
water. I also drew extra ammo for my men. Over the next three days we
held our ground. Thompson was hit in the arm. The doctor was busy. I
could see it was just a meat wound. If I could keep the wound clean,
Thompson could keep his arm. Thompson was crying out in pain. I said,
"Good God Corporal. You whine like a little girl. Buck up and I can
help you keep your arm."
Then I saw that Thompson was not a man at all. He was a she. She also
saw that I had came across her little secret. I said, "Take a shot of
this whiskey. It will help kill the pain."
Then I poured some that whiskey on her wound and took an ammo
cartridge and removed the ball from it. I poured the powder into the
wound and lit it. The flame sealed the wound and stopped the bleeding.
Then I gave Thompson four more shots of the whiskey . She passed out.
I had dressed the wound and let Thompson sleep it off. I told the
guard to send Thompson to me when Thompson came to. Thompson came to
me and I said, "Please be seated. Now did you eat yet Corporal?"
Thompson said, "No I didnot Sir."
I said, "Now Thompson, I will make this clear. I know your secret. I
dont care. You are too good in your roles here to let you go. You are
safe with me. I will ask only two things. The least of which is how do
you like your steak? The next is why did you dress like a man and join
the Army?"
Thompson said, "I joined the Army for two reasons. The first was to
escape a forced marriage to a cruel man who I could never love. The
other is that women can do most jobs that men can do just as well."
I said, "That is true. I grew up on a large farm. My mother and
sisters did as much work as my father and brothers. Right now I know
that many farms both large and small, much if not all, of the work is
being done by women as the men have gone to fight this war."
Thompson said, "Thank you Sir."
We ate our meal in silence as I was deep in thought. I knew I was
allowed to throw Thompson out of the Army, but I knew she was too good
at her roles. I also knew that if the Army could prove my actions to
aid her, I could be tossed out as well. After the coffee I said, "Cpl
Thompson. Until further notice, you are my Aide de camp. It will help
your arm heal better and keep you safer. Besides the brass can read
your writting better than my chicken scratching."
Thompson had a look of great relief on her face. She took three double
takes around the tent to make sure no one was looking and then jumped
and wraped her legs and arms around me and kissed me on the lips. I
would envy the man that could win her heart and kill the man who would
break it.
This is Bobbie in our time. Adam was wrong about his writting skills.
He did have good penmanship. I think he was just making things easier
for Cpl. Thompson. In case you are wondering how the troops could
write home then, it was simple. Pencils were common placed and many
people had them. I will skip forward for the rest of 1863. Most of the
entries were day to day stuff and a small skirmish or two.
7 May 1864. Much of the time since October dealt with training new
troops and the rest of the veterans. We also were able to get ahold of
a large supply of Henery rifles. Plus five were set up as Sniper
rifles. I bought two Henerys out my own pocket. I let Cpl. Thompson
train with one. She was a good shot and I wanted my best shots to have
the best rifles. Two of my new troops had their own Henerys. We could
fight the Rebels on a level that they did not know of.
10 May 1864. I was given by Army Command four Gattling guns. Since
they took the same style ammo as the Henerys, that made getting rounds
easier. The Gatlings made us a slower but a heavier hitter. I started
use The Henerys and the Gattlings in a combined field of fire mode. I
am ashamed to say, but I was setting up slaghterhouse type fields to
win this damm war.
This Bobbie again. Adam's entires at this point led to saying his
battles were more a murder type deal. No honor. Just plain murder. I
wish I could tell him that there is almost nothing civil in war.
10 October 1864. My sentries brought in three prisoners. I said, "Good
work. Leave them here. I will question them each."
Now I saw that each on had their arms bound at their wrists. Also
below and above the elbow. Then just under the shoulders All behind
their backs.
I said, "I can see you are all women. I know what to look for. I will
also release you on one condition. That is that you dont try to kill
me after I let you go. I will only ask you why you joined your Army."
The first one said, "I am Lt. Harry Bufford. That is my name for the
record. I have with me, Privates Mc Donnel and O' Brien. That is also
for the record. I joined to revenge my husband. The others joined to
avenge the fact that your army killed their families and destroyed
their farms."
I said very great gentleness, "I can understand and agree with your
reasons. I only engaged your troops. I will relase most of your
bindings. If you want to eat, I will bind only your wrists in front of
you instead of behind your back."
Lt. Bufford said, "Thank you. You are a Gentleman."
Then I called for Cpl. Thompson. I said, "Please feed the prisoners.
They do look like that they need it. If they can hold down the cook's
beef stew, they must be pretty hardy. If they need to go to the
latrine, you will go with them. This will be done one at a time only.
Call me first. I will watch over the other two. They have a medical
problem that is the same as yours."
Thompson said, "Yes sir. They just might need to lie down for a spell
first. The stew goes down better with biscuits. I can get get some
good ones in town from some of the local ladies instead of the Hard
Tack ones the cook has."
I knew what Thompson meant. I just said, "Carry on. Hard Tack biscuits
need tobe cooked in bacon grease to go down. They would have to be
soaked in a stew to be eatable."
I could sense that Thompson knew what I knew about the prisoners. The
prisoners all gave out sounds of relief as I removed their bindings
straps and cuffed their hands in front of them. I allowed them to nap
while Thompson was on the biscuit patrol. Thompson came back with two
dozen Butter Milk style biscuits. I put on a pot of real coffee. I
knew that Rebel troops were drinking coffee that was made of coffee,
chicory, nut shells, tree roots and bark, or a combination of what I
mentioned. I tasted some coffee made of some the stuff I said of. All
I can say is that it got you going. Taste was a matter of your point
of view.
When Thompson came back, I woke the prisoners. I could see that they
loved the coffee. Our cook's stew, well they ate it but without the
gusto of a starving person. The biscuits that Thompson found, they ate
like candy.
The cook was a lousy as a soldier and even worse as a cook. I
wondered how the Rebels cook staff was. (I was told later, it was just
as bad.)
Later that night, I blindfolded the prisoners. I sent them back to
their side with some real coffee and the remainder of the biscuits
One hour later, I got in return four Union troops, a loaf of corn
bread, and some grits. Plus a note from Lt. Bufford. It said, 'Thank
you for your kindness Sir. Our cooks are just as bad as yours. My only
regret is, that I must mix the coffee you sent over with chicory. I
pray that we can meet again under proper and peacable terms.'
Winter had set in shortly after. Both sides just did what was needed
to stay warm and alive. Cold was a common foe. I kept drilling my men.
I knew to keep them sharp and alive was to give them something to do.
We also had dug into a nearby hillside. The earth kept the cold off of
us as we would sleep. I saw that my troops would allow Rebel troops to
catch some deer or turkeys. (My troops also were out after the deer
and turkeys. Plus what ever game that could be had. The hides and furs
keep my troops warm.) We also lost a shipment of boots to the Rebels.
From their dead, I saw that despite their will to fight, they were
about to lose. I hope that when the war ends, they would use the same
will to keep the peace.
This is Bobbie in our time. I will skip over the rest of 1864. I would
say this. Adam and Thompson did grow closer to each other.
13 February 1865.
I found the Rebel camp. I was ordered to strike it. I hit the camp and
had the Rebel troops under control. I went to the Command tent and saw
that there were five women bound and in tears. Three I knew. They were
Bufford, O'Brien, and Mc Donnel. Two were Union troops. All were nude.
I saw their uniforms in a pile. Thompson was cutting them free and
told them " To put on the your clothing and keep your dignity."
Then in stormed Col. Harlen Sanders of the C S A. He said, "Who are
you to deal with my prisoners Sir?!"
I drew my Saber and said, "Capt. Adam Remington at your service Sir. I
will protect the Ladies's honor Sir."
Col.Sanders said, "Not bad for a Yankee."
I wish to say that I killed him, but that would be a lie. I did say,
"Keep to cooking chickens. That is your true calling." Then I took his
sword and the LeMatts pistol from him.
I was swarmed by the women. I felt drained. I also said, "Lt Bufford.
Please take your troops to a place of safety. You may call on me at
any time and I will be at at your service."
Lt. Bufford just planted me with a full hearted kiss and I got from
Thompson a smack from a peice of stove wood. She did say with a wink,
"That was for not resisting Sir."
I knew from the way she smacked me, that I was her's forever and a
day. Another good reason to end this dumb war.
15 May 1865. The war is over. I must help keep the peace. I found some
farm lands that were up for sale due to taxes. I knew that was the
Union's way to mess with the Rebels one more time. I just bought out
the farms that I could. Then sold them back to the orginal owners just
for the price I paid for it. I said, "This is a hand up. I hope if I
call for it, you will do the same for me."
That won me a lot of friends or at least no one taking a shot at me at
night.
21 May 1865. I just wed Frank Thompson. Her real name is Frances. I
decided to call her Franny or some times Frank. I only called her
Frank to tease her, but she took it well for she knew I loved her.
25 June 1865. Lt. Bufford showed up at my doorstep at night with just
the clothing on her back and Trooper O'Brien. She said, "My real name
is Harriet. O'Brien is with child. Her name is Ann. Sanders raped her
before you showed up. She carries his child. I heard what you did
around here. I see that you never offered Sanders his place back. May
I ask why?"
Before I could say a word, Franny said, "Come right in and I will fix
you some tea and dinner. My husband will be long winded about it, but
it is his way of a revenge. He knew what Sanders did. My husband will
want for Sanders a long slow pain for his deeds. Please sleep here for
the night or as longas need be. In the morning I will think that each
of you will have a place to call home in your names."
Well it did take a little bit longer for me to set things up. I told
the county clerk that Ann O'Brien and Harriet Bufford were widows of
Rebel Soldiers. I also told the clerk that their husbands asked me to
take care of them.
Well I wish to say that Ann lived a happy life. Ann died in child
birth and her child with her. For some strange reason, that farm could
never have anyone hold on to it for more than five years.
This is Bobbie again. The fact the farm could never be held for more
than five years is still a puzzle. My 'Aunt' Belle gave it to the
Wellman Clinic over twenty years ago. My 'Uncle' Bill still keeps two
crossed Sabers in his office at the Wellman Clinic in a locked case.
One does have C S A markings on it. The other is Union. That farm
seems to be at peace. It is as if a soul was set to rest. I do know
that the Misty Mountains have forces above the will of man. Trooper
O'Brien is still on guard there. There are some workers who say they
see her walk. Jim Bridger only told me that his men will do two
things. If they see her ghost to give it a full salute. The other is,
on her birthday, to remeber her with prayer and a shot whiskey. There
is a glass with her name on it that is always kept full. The glass is
under an old time photo of her.
Peace and love.
Bobbie Winston Remington.
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