accomplished by a tact and energy which sought no praise but modestly veiled themselves behind the orders of officials. The management of her kitchen was like the ticking of a clock—regular discipline, gentle firmness and sweet temper always. Her daily rounds in the wards brought her into personal intercourse with every patient and she knew his special need. At one time nine hundred men were supplied from her kitchen.
This colored hospital service was one of those extraordinary tasks out of the ordinary course of hospital discipline that none but a woman could execute. It required more than a man's power of endurance, for men fainted and fell under the burden. It required a woman's discernment, a woman's tenderness, a woman's delicacy and tact; it required such nerve and such executive power as are rarely united in any woman's character. But Miss Gilson brought all this and more, a woman's sympathy, to her task. As she passed through the wards the men would follow her with their eyes attracted by the grave sweetness of her manner and when she stopped by some bedside and laid her hand upon the forehead and smoothed the hair of a soldier speaking some cheering and pleasant word, tears would gather in his eyes and his lip quiver as he tried to speak or touch the fold of her dress.
These were the tokens of her ministry among the sickest men, and it was not here alone that her influence was felt in the hospital. Was there jealousy in the kitchen? Her quick penetration detected the cause and in her sweet way harmony was restored. Or was there hardship and discontent? The knowledge that she too was enduring the hardship was enough to insure patient endurance until a remedy could be provided. And so through all the war, until after the fierce battles which were fought for the possession of Richmond and Petersburg in 1864 and 1865, she labored steadfastly on through scorching heat and pinching cold, in the tent or upon the open field, in the ambulance or in the saddle, through rain and snow, amid unseen perils of the enemy, under fire upon the field, or in the more insidious danger of contagion she worked on quietly doing her simple part with all womanly tact and skill.
From City Point she went to the hospital at Richmond, and remained there until June, 1865. During the following years she spent some months at Richmond working among the colored and white schools. With declining health, alas, she returned to Massachusetts and died in April, 1868, and was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery, Chelsea. A beautiful monument with an appropriate inscription was erected over her grave by the soldiers, and it is decorated each year by Grand Army posts and Women's Relief Corps.
MARY PRINGLE.
(Mary Breckel)
Mary Pringle was born in Columbus, Ohio, June 11, 1833. She was one of the volunteer nurses to go into the hospital at Quincy, Illinois, at the opening of the war, she also did splendid service in the soldiers' hospital organized on Broad Street, Columbus. She worked from the time the war broke out until sick from overwork, she was obliged to leave the service in July, 1863.
