me some ambulances and I will bring them in." The conveyances were given her, she retraced her steps to the deserted battlefield, and soon had some eight or ten poor sufferers in the wagons, and on their way to camp. The roads were rough, and their moans and cries gave evidence of intense agony. While still some miles from their destination, Bridget saw several rebels approaching, she ordered the drivers to quicken their pace, and endeavoured to urge her horse forward, but he baulked and refused to move. The drivers becoming alarmed, deserted their charge and fled to the woods, while the wounded men begged that they might not be left to the mercy of the enemy, and to suffer in Southern prisons. The rebels soon The rebels soon came up, Bridget plead with them to leave the sufferers unmolested, but they laughed at her, took the horses from the ambulances, and such articles of value as the men possessed, and then dashed off the way they came. Poor Biddy was almost desperate, darkness coming on, and with none to help her, the wounded men beseeching her not to leave them. Fortunately, an officer of our army rode up to see what the matter was, and soon sent horses and assistance to the party."

When the war ended, Bridget accompanied her regiment to Texas, from whence she returned with them to Michigan, but the attractions of army life were too strong to be overcome, and she has since joined one of the regiments of the regular army stationed on the plains in the neighborhood of the Rocky Mountains.

Mrs. Kady Brownell, the wife of an Orderly Sergeant of the First and afterwards of the Fifth Rhode Island Infantry, who, like Madame Turchin was born in the camp, and was the daughter of a Scottish soldier of the British army, was another of these halfsoldier heroines; adopting a semi-military dress, and practicing daily with the sword and rifle, she became as skillful a shot and as expert a swordsman as any of the company of sharp-shooters to which she was attached. Of this company she was the chosen color-bearer, and asking no indulgence, she marched with the

men, carrying the flag and participating in the battle as bravely as any of her comrades. Inthe first battle of Bull Run, she stood by her colors and maintained her position till all her regiment and several others had retreated, and came very near falling into the hands of the enemy. She was in the expedition of General Burnside to Roanoke Island and Newbern and by her coolness and intrepidity saved the Fifth Rhode Island from being fired upon by our own troops by mistake. Her husband was severely wounded in the engagement at Newbern, and she rescued him from his position of danger and having made him as comfortable as possible attempted to rescue others of the wounded, both rebel and Union troops. By some of the rebels, both men and women, she was grossly insulted, but she persevered in her efforts to help the wounded, though not without some heart-burnings for their taunts. Her husband recovering very slowly, and being finally pronounced unfit for service, she returned to Rhode Island with him after nursing him carefully for eighteen months or more, and received her discharge from the army.

There were very, probably, many others of this class of heroines who deserve a place in our record; but there is great difficulty in ascertaining the particulars of their history, and in some cases they failed to maintain that unsullied reputation without which courage and daring are of little worth.

THE WOMEN OF GETTYSBURG.

HOSE who have read Miss Georgiana Woolsey's charming narrative "Three Weeks at Gettysburg," in this volume, will have formed a higher estimate of the

women of Gettysburg than of the men. There were some exceptions among the latter, some brave earnest-hearted men, though the farmers of the vicinity were in general both cowardly and covetous; but the women of the village have won for themselves a high and honorable record, for their faithfulness to the flag, their generosity and their devotion to the wounded.

Chief among these, since she gave her life for the cause, we must reckon MRS. JENNIE WADE. Her house was situated in the valley between Oak Ridge and Seminary Hill, and was directly in range of the guns of both armies. But Mrs. Wade was intensely patriotic and loyal, and on the morning of the third day of the battle, that terrible Friday, July 3, she volunteered to bake bread for the Union troops. The morning passed without more than an occasional shot, and though in the midst of danger, she toiled over her bread, and had succeeded in baking a large quantity. About two o'clock, P. M., began that fearful artillery battle which seemed to the dwellers in that hitherto peaceful valley to shake both earth and heaven. Louder and more deafening crashed the thunder from two hundred and fifty cannon, but as each discharge shook her humble dwelling, she still toiled on unterrified and only intent on her patriotic task. The rebels, who were nearest her had repeatedly ordered her to quit the

premises, but she steadily refused. At length a shot from the rebel batteries struck her in the breast killing her instantly. A rebel officer of high rank was killed almost at the same moment near her door, and the rebel troops hastily constructing a rude coffin, were about to place the body of their commander in it for burial, when, in the swaying to and fro of the armies, a Union column drove them from the ground, and finding Mrs. Wade dead, placed her in the coffin intended for the rebel officer. In that coffin she was buried the next day amidst the tears of hundreds who knew her courage and kindness of heart.

MISS CARRIE SHEADS, the principal of Oak Ridge Female Seminary, is also deserving of a place in our record for her courage, humanity and true womanly tact. The Seminary buildings were within a few hundred yards of the original battle-field of the first day's fight, and in the course of the day's conflict, after the death of General Reynolds, the Union troops were driven by the greatly superior force of the enemy into the grounds of the Seminary itself, and most of them swept past it. The Ninetyseventh New York volunteer infantry commanded on that day by Lieutenant-Colonel, afterwards General Charles Wheelock, were surrounded by the enemy in the Seminary grounds, and after repeated attempts to break through the ranks of the enemy, were finally compelled to surrender. Miss Sheads who had given

her pupils a holiday on the previous day, and had suddenly found herself transformed into the lady superintendent of a hospital, for the wounded were brought to the Seminary, at once received Colonel Wheelock and furnished him with the signal for surrender. The rebel commander demanded his sword, but the colonel refused to give it up, as it was a gift of friends. An altercation ensued and the rebel officer threatened to kill Colonel Wheelock. Mr. Sheads, Miss Carrie's father, interposed and endeavored to prevent the collision, but was soon pushed out of the way, and the rebel officer again presented his pistol to shoot his prisoner. Miss Sheads now rushed between them and remon

strated with the rebel on his inhumanity, while she urged the colonel to give up his sword. He still refused, and at this moment the entrance of other prisoners attracted the attention of the rebel officer for a few moments, when Miss Sheads unbuckled his sword and concealed it in the folds of her dress unnoticed by the rebel officer. Colonel Wheelock, when the attention of his foe was again turned to him, said that one of his men who had passed out had his sword, and the rebel officer ordered him with the other prisoners to march to the rear. Five days after the battle the colonel, who had made his escape from the rebels, returned to the Seminary, when Miss Sheads returned his sword, with which he did gallant service subsequently.

The Seminary buildings were crowded with wounded, mostly rebels, who remained there for many weeks and were kindly cared for by Miss Sheads and her pupils. The rebel chief undertook to use the building and its observatory as a signal station for his army, contrary to Miss Sheads' remonstrances, and drew the fire of the Union army upon it by so doing. The buildings were hit many times and perforated by two shells. But amid the danger, Miss Sheads was as calm and self-possessed as in her ordinary duties, and soothed some of her pupils who were terrified by the hurtling shells. From the grounds of the Seminary she and several of her pupils witnessed the terrible conflict of Friday. The severe exertion necessary for the care of so large a number of wounded, for so long a period, resulted in the permanent injury of Miss Sheads' health, and she has been since that time an invalid. Two of her brothers were slain in the war, and two others disabled for life. Few families have made greater sacrifices in the national cause.

Another young lady of Gettysburg, Miss Amelia Harmon, a pupil of Miss Sheads, displayed a rare heroism under circumstances of trial. The house where she resided with her aunt was the best dwelling-house in the vicinity of Gettysburg, and about a mile west of the village, on Oak or Seminary Ridge. During