Part 10

So the matter was dropped, and nobody knows to this day whether the British ever learned the truth or not.

The story of Emily Geiger's bravery has been told in prose and poetry many times. It became necessary for General Green to get reinforcements from General Sumter. The latter was about fifty miles away, and the country between them was overrun with British soldiers. When Emily heard that General Green needed a messenger for the dangerous journey, she immediately offered her services. Well she knew that discovery would mean being hanged for a spy, but the risk did not appal her. Rather unwillingly the General consented to her entreaties, and entrusted the letter to her, telling her its contents in case it should by any chance get lost. A woman, he said, _might_ run a chance of getting past the British soldiers when a man would surely fail.

"I have a fleet horse," said Emily, "which I broke and trained myself; I know the country and I am sure I can get through." She dashed away, but was captured on the second day and imprisoned in a room of an old farm-house.

As soon as she was alone, she tore the letter up, and chewed and swallowed the pieces. This was done none too soon, for immediately afterward, a woman entered and Emily had to submit to being searched. Nothing of a suspicious nature being found upon her, the British allowed her to go on. Before sundown Emily reached General Sumter's camp and delivered the message. As a result, after a hard fought battle at Eutaw Springs, the British were defeated by General Green. Emily Geiger married happily and lived to a good old age. Long should she be remembered for her courage and patriotism.

It is certain that at least one woman enlisted in the Continental Army and fought as a soldier in the Revolutionary War. This woman was Deborah Samson, the daughter of poor parents of Plymouth County, Massachusetts. She was but twenty-two years of age when she left home, adopted male attire, and enlisted under the name of Robert Shirtliffe.

A flaxen-haired girl was Deborah, with blue eyes and rosy cheeks; she was not pretty, although as a man she might have passed for handsome. Accustomed from childhood to do farm work, she had acquired the vigor and strength that enabled her to perform the trying duties of military life. Deborah saw something of real war. At White Plains she received two bullet holes in her coat and one in her cap; at Yorktown she went through a severe fight but came out unhurt. Once she was shot in the thigh, but fear of discovery exceeded the pain of the wound, and she refused to go to the hospital. Later she fell ill of brain fever, and in the hospital her sex was discovered by the doctor. He did not betray her, but as soon as her health permitted he had her removed to his own house, where he gave her every care.

When her health was restored, the physician had a conference with the Commander of the Regiment to which "Robert" belonged. Soon there followed an order to the young man to carry a letter to Washington. Our young soldier felt very uneasy, but a soldier must obey. In due time, she appeared before General Washington. With great delicacy the General said not a word to her regarding the letter she had brought, but handed one, Robert Shirtliffe, a discharge from the army, and a note containing a few words of advice, with sufficient money to pay her expenses until she could find a home.

Deborah then resumed woman's attire and returned to her family. At the close of the war she married Benjamin Gannet of Sharon. While Washington was President, he invited Deborah to visit the capital. She accepted, and during her stay there Congress passed a bill granting her a pension for the services she had rendered the country.

It has been stated, and is doubtless true, that many women, disguised as men, enlisted during the Civil War and served as soldiers. Others followed the army as nurses, fighting when it became necessary. Many of these women went because they could not bear the separation from their husbands. A notable example of this class was Madame Turchin, wife of the Colonel of the Nineteenth Illinois. She was the daughter of a Russian officer and had always lived in foreign camps with her father. During the War of the Rebellion, she accompanied her husband to the battle-field and became a great favorite with the soldiers under his command. To her the men went when they were ill or in any trouble, knowing they would always meet with sympathy, and when necessary would be given careful nursing.

Upon one occasion, when the regiment was actively engaged in Tennessee, Col. Turchin fell ill, having to be carried for several days in an ambulance. His wife took the most tender care of him, and also assumed his place at the head of the regiment, even leading the troops into action. Officers and men in the ranks alike obeyed her, for her courage and skill equaled those of her husband. Without faltering she faced the hottest fire. When her husband recovered and again took command, she retired to the rear and resumed the work of nursing the sick and wounded.

Like Madame Turchin, Mrs. Kady Brownell had been accustomed to camp life, her father having been a soldier in the British Army. She married an officer of the Fifth Rhode Island Infantry and accompanied him to the front. She bore the regimental colors and marched with the men, asking no favors and standing the brunt of battle fearlessly. A fine shot was Mrs. Kady Brownell, also an expert in the use of the sword. She was in General Burnside's expedition to Roanoke Island and Newburn. There her husband was so seriously wounded that he was judged unfit for further service and given his discharge. Mrs. Brownell asked for a discharge likewise, and together they retired to private life.

Annie Etheridge of Michigan is said to have been with the Third Michigan in every battle in which it was engaged. When the three years of its service was over, she followed the re-enlisted veterans to the Fifth Michigan. Through the entire four years of war, this fearless woman never left the field, though often under the hottest fire. She made herself beloved and respected by both officers and men.

Bridget Devins, known as "Michigan Bridget," because she went to the front with the First Michigan Cavalry, in which her husband served as private, was noted for her daring deeds and her good service. When the troops were about to retreat, it was Michigan Bridget who rallied them. When a soldier fell, she took his place, fighting bravely in his stead. Often she carried the wounded from the field, risking her own life in the performance of her duty. Michigan Bridget liked military life so well that at the close of the war she and her husband joined the regular army and were sent to a station on the western plains.

These women soldiers who served so bravely on the field of battle, we must honor, yet we cannot regret that their numbers were small. The nobler service of those countless women, who, with white faces and breaking hearts, sent to the front their husbands, fathers and sons, can never be properly estimated nor sufficiently honored.

These women toiled day and night, determined that the soldiers should be well cared for and well fed; they organized relief work so that the fighters might have comforts and good hospitals. These women as truly enlisted for battle as did the others who went to the front.