By Lantern's Light
A Civil War Saga Buried in the Footnotes of History
by
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The field, enshrouded in darkness, lay in silence. Confused spirits had departed, leaving behind wasted remnants of men. Mist wavered across the land. With each step, mounds of gray vapor swirled about Mary Ann Bickerdyke’s feet. She held her lantern high, scanning the crimson soaked earth, seeking signs of live movement of any kind. The weary nurse missed nothing. Her eyes, cast in lantern’s glow, sought the one soul who still breathed. Bodies, sprawled in various contours, were scattered across the field. Breastworks, wooden barriers constructed for defense, gleamed like broken fingers in patches of moonlight. Men lifted limp forms and placed them into carts to be delivered to fresh graves. Yellow lanterns sparkled against the black background, lightning bugs in the night. Troopers worked their shovels in the softened earth and spoke in hushed voices. Mary Ann was barely conscious of their presence. If she heard a bare wisp of a sound, a cough, the rustle of a garment, she was at the soldier’s side, passing a light before his face. "He’s alive! Over here! Trooper, over here!" She’d hold the foundling tightly until stretcher bearers arrived. Onward, lamp in hand, she treaded carefully through the darkness, swinging the light in a wide arc. Two soldiers walked behind and collected the bodies she’d left. Another muffled voice wafted through the fog. Mary Ann strode to his side. She lifted a spindly soldier from an ocean of gray . . . face, arm and hand barely visible. Sparse hair lifted from his forehead. Mother Bickerdyke drew the fallen warrior into her arms and waited. His head sank upon her bosom, then slipped backward. She was too late. She gently returned him to his bed of fog. An old timer, slender frame bent forward, took time out from grave digging to brush perspiration from his brow. He’d watched her progress and noticed the hem of her gown was soaked in blood. He passed his shovel to another and fell into step beside her. After a bit, he whispered, "Ma’am, you have done enough here." Mother Bickerdyke looked up from her work for the first time and spoke. "Enough? I do not think so." After some time, she was satisfied she had done what she could and made her way to the waiting wagon. She looked back over her shoulder one last time, seeking signs of life as a mother seeks a lost child. The old soldier, eyes bleak with sadness, gripped her arm and nudged her into the rig. By now the mule knew the way and slowly ambled back to camp.
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About the Book
In 1861 a courageous band of women brave death and defy political powers to render battlefield relief, launching the first MASH Unit on American soil. By these deeds they write their page in history.
This dramatic, fact-based story is told through the eyes of Havannah, a fiery but shallow debutante, who joins the first team of women to work the battlefields during the Civil War. While blood flows and Minie balls fly, Havannah squares off with head field hospital nurse who vows to dismiss her from the corps. The heroine’s love affair with a crusty army surgeon adds fuel to the fire.
Meanwhile, sisters at home battle enemies who pledge to squash their efforts to establish the innovative relief plan. On the trail women, board wagons hauled by cantankerous mules, strap soup pots to wagons, forge mountain passes, dodge bullets, set up field hospitals alongside battlefields and scour the land, seeking life among the dead. The weapons they carried were not muskets but hot soup, whispered prayers and compassion, bolstered by fierce determination.
About the Author
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Carol is a founding member of the Low Country Civil War Roundtable, one of the largest in the country, located in the Coastal South Carolina area and founding editor of the Minie Ball Gazette. She taught classes related to “Women and the Civil War” for ten years, five of those as an instructor at the University of South Carolina – Beaufort, in the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute program. Her works have appeared in the South Carolina Historical Magazine, Dialogue (a periodical published in Braille), and numerous other publications. She is a novelist, short story writer, essayist, and columnist. Carol presently lives in Virginia, where she gives popular lectures related to the subject of “Women and the Civil War.” She is a member of the Society for Women and the Civil War. Carol has also written the screenplay, By Lantern’s Light.