Page 52 - Arkansas Confederate Women

Reminiscences of Mrs. E. S. #cott 47

in a way very near to her heart. There was a Confederate mili-
tary hospital in the town, under the charge of Dr. Randolph
Branson, late of Pine Bluff, and I well remember how enthusias-
tically she took up the work of nursing the sick and wounded
soldiers. It was very hard to procure good brandy and nourish-
ing food, but she always managed in some way to get the very
best in the hospital stores for her special patients. At one time

we had three sick soldiers in our house, of whom she had entire
care. One was my oldest brother, Capt. Frank T. Scott, who had

some serious eye trouble; another was Lieut. McLaughlin, with
a shattered leg, and the third was a young Virginian, A. P.
Bierne, midshipman in the Confederate navy, suffering from the
results of exposure, which threatened consumption.

During the summer of 1863, my mother was in Yazoo City,

Miss., where the cannonading at Vicksburg could be plainly

Myheard. younger brother, Capt. C. C. Scott, was in the besieged

city, and it was a time of great anxiety to my mother. Some

of the days when the cannonading was constant she would often

say, "It may be that shot has killed my boy." Then again on

a day when all was still there would come the fear that the city

had surrendered and she would almost long to hear again the

roar of the cannon.

In Yazoo City the court house was used as a military hospi-
tal, and I can remember going there with mother and seeing the

sick men on cots even out in front on the sidewalk. - One day the
news came that Federal troops were entering the city, and mother
was greatly distressed to see the pale, emaciated men put into

rude conveyances and hurried away for fear of capture.

Soon after the surrender we returned to our home near Cam-
den where for a year or two afterward mother still had a soldier
to care for. This was a one-armed Confederate, who began to
build up his fortune as a farmer, and who had the misfortune to
break two fingers on his only hand. For several months it was
her self-appointed task to dress and care for his crippled hand,
and sometimes with eyes so misty with tears that she could
scarcely see how to apply the dressings properly. She was more
fortunate than many mothers in this, that both of her sons were