Captain Hugh McQuade of the 38th New York Infantry had been wounded and captured during First Bull Run on 21st July 1861. The severity of his wound necessitated the removal of his lower left leg, but in August it was reported that he was doing well following the operation. However, secondary infection set in, and by October his prospects had dimmed. Sister Valentine, one of the Catholic Sisters of Charity caring for the wounded in Richmond, felt the time appropriate to write to Hugh’s mother outlining his situation, assuring her of his stoicism and that he had made his peace with God. (2)

General Hospital No. 1 in Richmond where Sister Valentine wrote to Hugh McQuade’s mother (Library of Congress)

GENERAL HOSPITAL. RICHMOND, October 12th.

Dear Madam,- I cannot permit the present favorable occasion, which is afforded by friends going to Maryland, to pass, without sending a few lines informing you of your beloved son’s state of health at present. 

I thought it might be a species of balm to your anxious sorrowing heart, to receive a little word of intelligence, even from an old Sister of Charity, but, from one who has watched near his beside for more than two months.

The Captain is very weak, and still suffers much from his wound, which is not as well as we found it some weeks since. The physician thinks that a second amputation will be necessary; but do not be alarmed at this intelligence, for operations of this description have been frequently followed with complete success; I know that your poor heart trembles when you reflect on the sufferings of your dear son; but have courage; let us trust all to the hands of the good God, from whom we have received so many blessings. He can restore your child’s health, if such be according to his Divine will. As to the Captain, he is perfectly resigned to the good pleasure of God, willing to die, if he is called, or, if restored, willing to serve God by a virtuous, Christian life. He edifies all by his great patience, doing all in his power to avoid giving trouble, accepting every little service with such gratitude, that it is a true pleasure to serve him.

I am very sure you envy me my post near him, and that you very often feel like flying to the sick bed of your absent one far away in a distant land, now rendered inaccessible. You may sometimes imagine that he is in need of something; but permit me to assure you, dear madam, that your son is surrounded with every care that a mother’s affection could devise, or a mother’s hands bestow. We only desire to be able to make him more comfortable; we have procured for him a nice little private room, which removes him from every annoyance, and promotes that quiet his state so much requires.

That he is truly happy, there is no doubt. He intends preparing himself for the amputation by a devout reception of the sacraments, so that in case he is called he will be prepared. What a great satisfaction for you. What greater happiness or higher hope can a Christian mother claim than to see her child submitting himself, willing and loving, to the disposal of his Creator. But you will pray for him as a mother only can pray. Beg for him the prayers of the poor and the orphans, for their prayers pierce the Heavens and reach the ear of God. Uniting myself to your prayers, I remain,

Most respectfully yours,

SISTER VALENTINE. (3)

Hugh McQuade died in Richmond as a result of his wounds on 26th December, 1861. Dr. William F. Swalm of the 14th New York State Militia had been a fellow captive, and was scathing of the treatment which led to his death. In a statement taken on 7th April 1862 he outlined the Irishman’s plight:

He received a wound in the lower part of the left leg, which rendered amputation necessary. The operation was performed in Richmond, by a surgeon of the name of Peachy, I think. The flap was a very good one, but, in consequence of inattention, the inside flap entirely mortified, so that they had to cut it completely off, leaving the bone protruding from one and a half to two inches. Inflammation set in, and extended up the limb, and in this condition he was taken down to the tobacco ware-house at mid-day, his face exposed to the hot sun, and the result was, what might have been look[ed] for, his death. (4)

Liggon and Company’s Tobacco Warehouse as it appeared in 1861, where Captain Hugh McQuade died on 26th December that year. (Wartime sketch by W.A. Abbott in ‘Richmond Prisons 1861-1862′ by William H. Jeffrey, 1893)

Dr. Swalm also had strong views about the Sisters of Charity who were stationed at the General Hospital:

The nurses there were sisters of charity. The left portion of the building, as you entered it, was set apart for our wounded, the right for theirs, and the main body of the building was used as an operating room. I noticed that they used to bring in for their wounded nice biscuit, game, soft-boiled eggs, toast with eggs upon it, &c. This was done by the sisters of charity. I asked them to bring in some for our men, and was told they had none. Of course, seeing what I did, I knew how much to believe of that. (5)

The letter of Sister Valentine and testimony of Dr. Swalm paint very different pictures of Hugh McQuade’s final weeks. The extent to which the Sisters of Charity displayed favouritism to Confederate prisoners at the General Hospital is unknown, but it is difficult to mask the sincerity in Sister Valentine’s letter. Perhaps the nun was attempting to assuage some of the worry she knew Hugh’s mother would be feeling, and sought to shield her from the reality of the conditions he faced. It would seem that the decision to remove the officer from the General Hospital to the tobacco warehouse was what finally sealed his fate, some five months after first receiving his wound. The effect of Sister Valentine’s letter can only be imagined, but it is to be hoped that the correspondence provided some solace for the 29-year-old’s family during the dark days following his wounding and eventual death.

*For more on the military career of Captain Hugh McQuade see posts on the The 48th Pennsylvania Infantry blog here and the Crossed Sabers blog here.

(1) For a superb discussion of how death and dying was dealt with in this period see Drew Gilpin Faust’s Republic of Suffering, particularly pp.3-31; (2) A-G Report 1902, New York Irish American 24th August 1861, New York Irish American 23rd November 1861; (3) New York Irish American 23rd November 1861; (4) A-G Report 1902, Joint Committee 1863: 473; (5) Joint Committee 1863: 473;

References & Further Reading

Barton, George 1898. Angels of the Battlefield: A History of the Labors of the Catholic Sisterhoods in the Late Civil War

Faust, Drew Gilpin 2008. This Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War

Maher, Sister Mary Denis 1999. To Bind Up The Wounds: Catholic Sister Nurses in the U.S. Civil War

New York A.G. 1902. Annual Report of the Adjutant-General of the State of New York for the Year 1901

New York Irish American 24th August 1861. Federal Prisoners at Richmond and Manassas

New York Irish American 23rd November 1861. Captain McQuade

U.S. Government Printing Office 1863. Report of the Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War

Little is known about Bridget’s life in the years leading up to the Civil War, other than that she was born in Ireland and followed her husband to the front when he enlisted in the 1st Michigan Cavalry. The 1st Michigan would become famed as part of George Armstrong Custer’s Michigan Brigade, which were known as the Wolverines. It has become difficult to unpick the reality of Michigan Bridget from the myth; one of the most dramatic accounts of her time at the front is attributed to the Battle of Fair Oaks in 1862:

Suddenly the Union line gave way and retreated in part, leaving the wounded exposed to merciless fire. One soldier, prone upon the ground with a shattered leg, raised his hand after the retreating troops. From the horde of fugitives dashed “Irish Biddy,” soiled by the bullets that had swept through her clothing. On her head rested a regulation Army cap, fastened with the necessary feminine hatpin. Her hair had escaped from its confinement and was whipping about her face, that was begrimed as her clothing. “Irish Biddy” reached the side of the wounded soldier- who was her husband. He was too feeble to help himself. The woman raised him to his feet and… she half dragged and half carried him across the battlefield. [Returning to the regiment] “Irish Biddy” stood and looked at them. Her eyes were blazing with scorn. Pulling her battered cap from her head, and waving it high as she could reach, she shouted: “Arrah, go in, boys, and bate the bloody spalpeens, and revinge me husband! Go in, and God be with ye!”. Three thundering cheers for “Irish Biddy” rang through their regiment as it plunged into the maelstrom of death. (1)

Although a superb story, it seems unlikely that the woman referred to in this account could actually have been Bridget Diver, as the 1st Michigan Cavalry were not engaged at Fair Oaks. It is possible that it refers to the actions of another Irish woman, as a number of accounts do survive which suggest at least some took an active part in the 1862 campaigns (see for example previous posts here and here).

‘Michigan Bridget’, Bridget Diver, as she was portrayed in post war illustrations (From Livermore 1889)

Despite the doubts cast over her presence at Fair Oaks, other accounts bear testament to how universally loved she was not only in her own unit but in Custer’s entire brigade. She became a ‘vivandiere’ or daughter of the regiment, and accompanied the 1st Michigan wherever it went. Her roles were many and varied, ranging from cooking and washing to acting as a sanitary commission agent, nurse, hospital steward and ward master. She is even said to have looked after the men’s spiritual well-being, seeking papers and books from the Christian Commission on their behalf. (2)

As well as performing her other roles, Bridget was also not averse to picking up a musket when the opportunity presented itself. Mary Livermore, who worked for the United States Sanitary Commission during the war and afterwards was a well-known advocate of women’s rights, said of the Irishwoman that: ‘Sometimes when a soldier fell she took his place, fighting in his stead with unquailing courage. Sometimes she rallied retreating troops- sometimes she brought off the wounded from the field- always fearless and daring, always doing good service as a soldier.’ (3)

Some of those who came into direct contact with Bridget have left a record of their impressions. Charlotte E. McKay, a Civil War nurse, recorded meeting Bridget at City Point, Virginia on 28th March, 1865:

‘Bridget- or as the men call her, Biddy- has probably seen more of hardship and danger than any other woman during the war. She has been with the cavalry all the time, going out with them on their cavalry raids- always ready to succor the wounded on the field- often getting men off who, but for her, would be left to die, and, fearless of shell or bullet, among the last to leave. Protected by officers and respected by privates, with her little sunburnt face, she makes her home in the saddle or the shelter-tent; often, indeed sleeping in the open air without a tent, and by her courage and devotion “winning golden opinions from all sorts of people.” She is an Irish woman, has been in the country sixteen years, and is now twenty-six years of age.’

Charlotte went on to describe a conversation she had with Bridget regarding the whereabouts of a little horse that she had seen in her possession the previous year, which amply illustrates the risks that Biddy took: ‘”Where is the nice little horse you had with you at the hospital last summer, Bridget?” “Oh, Moseby captured that from me. He came in while I was lying asleep on the ground, and took my horse and orderly. I jumped up and ran away.”‘ (4)

Another woman who met Bridget was Rebecca Usher; she recorded the story in a letter home on 7th April 1865. It illustrates not only why Bridget was so beloved by the men of the regiment, but also indicates that she had made friends in high places:

‘A few days ago I saw Bridget, who came out with the First Michigan Cavalry, and has been with the regiment ever since. She had just come in with the body of a captain who was killed in a cavalry skirmish. She had the body lashed to her horse, and carried him fifteen miles, where she procured a coffin, and sent him home. She says this is the hardest battle they have had, and the ground was covered with the wounded. She had not slept for forty-eight hours, having worked incessantly with the wounded. She is brave, heroic, and a perfect enthusiast in her work. Bridget said to me, in her earnest way, “Why don’t you ladies go up there, and take care of those wounded men? Why, its the worst sight you ever saw. the ground is covered with them.” “We should like to go,” I said, “but they won’t let us.” “Well, they can’t hinder me,”  she said; “Sheridan won’t let them.”‘ (5)

Although she was adored by the Wolverines, there was certainly one man who was not pleased to make Bridget’s acquaintance during the war. A fascinating record of the incident survives in a report Bridget made on 11th July 1863, while based in Washington D.C., and which demonstrates how seriously she took the cause of Union:

Washington D.C. July 11th 1863

Mrs. Deavers, attached to the 1st Michn Cavalry.

States at a house on D Street between 6th and 7th, a man named Shaw, said if the Yankee soldiers should enter Richmond, he hopes every one of them would be sunk in the lower pits of Hell, and all he wanted was to get across the lines, to take up arms, and he would kill and poison every man, woman and child, belonging to the Yankees, that he would come across. I told him he ought to be struck dumm in the morning on the side walk, he said if I did not hold my tongue he would strike me. He said his heart and soul was for the south, and he wanted to go there. He was requested by a Captain and a Paymaster (boarding in the same house) to come to Provost Marshals, He said there was no Yankee he would take an oath for. Shaw was arrested yesterday by a citizen, he said there was nothing done to him. Mrs. Deavers boards with Mrs. Sutton on E Street one door from 6th St. West. (6)

The report of Bridget Deavers (Diver) regarding Shaw’s Southern sympathies. Note her mark in the bottom right corner (Fold 3)

Aside from revealing her patriotism, this document also provides another piece of information about Bridget; she was unable to write. The bottom right of the report bears her mark, indicating she could not sign her name. Her fate after the war remains obscure, although it is thought that she followed her husband (and the army) west to continue her service attached to the military. Other than this no further details are known about her later life.

Despite the sketchy knowledge we have of Bridget, it is clear that she left a lasting impression on all those she encountered during the war, particularly the men of the 1st Michigan and Custer’s Wolverines. For half a century after the war’s conclusion newspaper reports and publications on women during the Civil War regularly carried Bridget’s story, telling of different aspects of her wartime career, such as her narrow escape from the clutches of the enemy at the Battle of Cedar Creek, how she rallied a wagon train of retreating soldiers, and her decision to spend a purse of $300 given for her comfort on the men of her regiment. An 1892 article described ‘Michigan Bridget’ to their readers: ‘She was Irish, with all the Irish characteristics as to features and form, and though she had a temper as warm as her hair was red, she was jolly and full humor, which made her a most acceptable companion at all times.’ So little is known of Bridget’s life that it remains a mystery if this is an accurate description of her appearance. What is certain is that she was one of the most notable Irish women to serve at the front during the course of the American Civil War. (7)

* Bridget’s name is also variously given as Divers, Deaver(s) and Devens

(1) Oregonian 4th June 1911; (2) Hall 1993: 28, Moore 1867:109; (3) Livermore 1889:116-119; (4) McKay 1876:125; (5) Moore 1867: 461-462; (6) Union Citizen Files; (7) Moore 1867: 109-112, Washington Evening Star 21st September 1892;

References

Oregonian 4th June 1911. Heroic Women at the Cannons Mouth in the Civil War

Washington D.C. Evening Star 21st September 1892. Irish Biddy

Hall, Richard. 1993. Patriots in Disguise: Women Warriors of the Civil War

Livermore, Mary A. 1889. My Story of the War: A Woman’s Narrative 

McKay, Charlotte E. 1876. Stories of Hospital and Camp 

Moore, Frank. 1867. Women of the War

Mary McCoy was originally from Co. Limerick, and was most probably born in the 1820s. At the outbreak of the Civil War she was living in New York, when her three brothers and 35-year-old husband James decided to enlist in April, 1861. They all joined the 71st New York Infantry, which became part of the State’s Excelsior Brigade. Mary clearly decided that she was not going to leave her four closest male relatives to their own devices, and accompanied the regiment to war. She was appointed an army nurse by Secretary Stanton, and by all accounts appears to have preformed her duties well.

A Field Hospital after the Battle of Savage Station, 1862 (Library of Congress)

Mary is noted as having particularly distinguished herself at the Battle of Fair Oaks, where her work among the wounded on the firing line earned her a compliment for bravery from none other than General McClellan. Shortly afterwards, when President Lincoln visited the army at Harrison’s Landing, he noticed Nurse McCoy and asked her if he could have a drink. The Limerick woman hesitated to serve him in one of the ordinary tin cups she had to hand, and went in search of a glass. The President called her back, saying ‘If a tin dipper is good enough for the soldiers, it is good enough for me.’

Mary returned to civilian life with her husband following the war. After his death in 1893 she once again decided to give her life over to the care of others, and she made her home in St. Mary’s Hospital, Brooklyn, assisting the sisters there in their work. It was here that she passed away on October 7th, 1899, survived by her niece. It is a mark of her impact during the war that 34 years later her death inspired notable obituaries in papers such as the New York Times.

References

New York Times 9th October 1899: ‘An Old Army Nurse Dead’

Irish World 14th October 1899: ‘Mrs. Mary McCoy, who died’

James McCoy Pension Index Card

New York A.G. 1902. Annual Report of the Adjutant-General of the State of New York for the Year 1901