wounded at the battle of Olustee, was brought to Beaufort Hospital for treatment and care. Long previously there had been a compact between him and a comrade that the one first wounded should be cared for by the other if possible. The exigencies of the service were at that time such that this comrade could not without much difficulty obtain leave of absence. He finally, however, triumphed over all obstacles, and took his place beside his friend. Mrs. Marsh often saw them together, and listened, at one time, to a discussion or comparison of views which revealed the character and motives of both.

The unwounded one was rejoicing that his term of service was nearly expired. It was at a time when many were re-enlisting, but he emphatically declared he would not. "I would, then," replied the wounded man, "if I had the strength to enter upon another term of service, I would do so. When I did enlist it was because of my country's need, and that need is not less imminent now. Yes," he added, with a sigh, "if God would restore me to health, I would remain in the service till the end of the war. The surgeon tells me I shall not recover, that the next hemorrhage will probably be the last. But I am not sorry, I am glad, that I have done what I have done, and would do it again, if possible."

That this was the spirit of many of the wounded men, Mrs. Marsh delights to testify. This man was God's soldier, as well as the Union's. He had learned to think amid the awful scenes of Fort Wagner, and when wounded at Olustee was prepared to live or die, whichever was God's will. Mrs. Marsh was sitting beside his bed, in quiet conversation with him, when without warning, the hemorrhage commenced. The plash of blood was heard, as the life-current burst from his wound, and, "Go now," he said in his low calm voice. "This is the end, and I would not have you witness it."

The hemorrhage was, however, checked, but he died soon after. Meantime the Sanitary Commission stores were constantly arriving,

and Mrs. Marsh continued to take the entire charge of them. A portion of her house was used for store-rooms, and there were received thousands of dollars' worth of comforts of all kinds from the North-a constant, never-failing flood of beneficence.

The first prisoners seen by Mrs. Marsh had come from Charleston. There were nine privates and three or four officers. Their rags scarcely covered them decently. They were filthy, squalid, emaciated. They halted at a point several miles from Beaufort, and a requisition was sent by the officers at this outpost, for clothing and other necessaries for the officers of the party. These were sent, but Mrs. Marsh thought there must be others-private soldiers, perhaps, for whom no provision had been made. She accordingly dispatched her nephew, who was a member of her family, to make inquiries and see that the wants of such were provided for.

In a short time she saw him returning at the head of his ragged brigade. The poor fellows were indeed a loathsome sight, worn, feeble, clad only in the unsightly rags which had been their prison wear. They were not shown into the office, but to a vestibule without, and their first desire was for water, soap-the materials for cleanliness. Mrs. Marsh examined her stores for clothing. That which was on hand was mainly designed for hospital use. She would have given each an entire suit, but could find only two or three pairs of coarse blue overalls, such as are worn by laborers at the North. As she stepped to the door to give them this clothing, she remarked upon the scarcity, and said the overalls must be given to the men that most needed them, but at once saw that where all were in filthy rags, there seemed no choice. The one who stood nearest her had taken a pair of the overalls, and was surveying them with delight, but he at once turned to another, "I guess he needs 'em most, I can get along with the old ones, a while," he said, in a cheerful tone, and smothering a little sigh he turned away.

This spirit of self-sacrifice was almost universal among the men

of our army, and was shown to all who had any care over them. How much every man needed an entire change of clean, comfortable garments, was shown the instant they left, when the nephew of Mrs. Marsh commenced sweeping the vestibule where they had stood, with great vigor, replying to the remonstrances of his aunt, only "I must," and adding, in a lower tone, "They can't help it, poor fellows," as he made the place too hot to hold anything with life.

It was in the summer of 1864, that communication was first obtained with the prisoners in Charleston, a communication afterwards extended to all the loathsome prison-pens of the South, where our men languished in filth, disease, and starvation.

At this time Dr. Marsh's duties kept him almost entirely at Folly Island, and there he received a letter from General Seymour who was confined, with other Union officers, in Charleston, a part of the time under fire, asking that if possible certain needful articles might be sent to him. This letter was immediately sent to Mrs. Marsh, who at once prepared a box containing more than twice the amount of articles asked for, and forwarded them to the confederate authorities at Charleston, for General Seymour. Almost contrary to all expectations, this box reached the General, and but a short time elapsed before its receipt was acknowledged. The General wrote touchingly of their privations, and while thanking Mrs. Marsh warmly for the articles already sent, represented the wants of some of the other gentlemen, his companions. Supplies were sent them, received and acknowledged, and thus a regular channel of communication was opened.

One noticeable fact attended this correspondence—namely, the extreme modesty of the demands made; no one ever asking for more than he needed at the time, as a pair of stockings, or a single shirt, and always expressing a fear lest others might need these favors more than himself.

When, soon after, by means of this entering wedge, the way to the prisons of Andersonville, Florence, and Salisbury, was

opened, the same fact was observed. In the midst of all their dreadful suffering and misery, the prisoners there made no large demands. They asked for but little-the smallest possible amount, and were always fearful lest they might absorb the bounty to which others had a better claim.

After this communication was opened, Mrs. Marsh found a delightful task in preparing the boxes which in great numbers were constantly being sent forward to the prisons. It was a part of her duty, also, to inspect the letters which went and came between the prisons and the outside world.

The pathos of many of these was far beyond description. Touching appeals constantly came to her from distant Northern homes for some tidings of the sons, brothers, fathers of whose captivity they had heard, but whose further existence had been a blank. Where are they? and how are they? were constantly recurring questions, which alas! it was far too often her sad duty to answer in a way to destroy all hope.

And the letters of the prisoners, filled to the uttermost, not with complaints, but with the pervading sadness that could not for one moment be banished from their horrible lives! No words can describe them, they were simply heart-breaking! Just as the horror of the prison-pens is beyond the power of words to fitly tell, so are the griefs which grew out of them.

Mrs. Marsh continued busily employed in this work of mercy until it was suddenly suspended. Some formality had not been complied with, and the privilege of communication was discontinued; and all their friends disappointed and disheartened. This we can easily imagine, but not what the suspension was to the suffering prisoners who had for a short season enjoyed this one gleam of light from the outer world, and were now plunged into a rayless hopeless night. When the time of deliverance came, as we all know, many of them were past the power of rejoicing in it.

Dr. Marsh was for a long time detained at Folly and Morris

Islands. The force at Beaufort was quite inadequate, and exceedingly onerous and absorbing duties fell to the share of Mrs. Marsh. Communication was difficult. Dr. Marsh at times could not reach his home. Vessels which had been running between New York and Port Royal and Hilton Head were detained at the North. The receipt and transmission of sanitary stores, and the immense correspondence growing out of it; the general oversight of the needs of the hospitals, and the monthly reports of the same all fell heavily upon one brain and one pair of hands.

It was at just such an emergency that the army of Sherman, the "Great March" to the sea nearly completed, arrived upon the scene. The sick and disabled arrived by hundreds, the hospitals were filled up directly, and even thronged; while so numerous were the cases of small-pox, which had appeared in the army, that a large separate hospital had to be provided for them.

We may perhaps imagine how busy was the brave woman, left with such an immense responsibility on her hands.

Early in 1865, Dr. Marsh received notice that it had been determined to send him to Newbern, North Carolina, but he never went, being attacked soon after by a long and dangerous illness which for a time rendered it improbable that he would ever see his Northern home again.

It was at this time that a cargo of sanitary supplies arrived from New York. A part of these were a contribution from Montreal. Montreal had before sent goods to the Commission, but these were forwarded to Mrs. Marsh herself. A letter of hers written not long previous to a friend in New York, had been forwarded to Montreal, and had aroused a strong desire there to help her in her peculiar work. A large portion of this gift was from an M. P., who, though he might, like others, lift his voice against the American war, had yet enough of the milk of