Nearly every soldier in the army of the west—who fought under Grant or Sherman until the pathway down the Mississippi valley was clear—will feel a thrill of joy at seeing the name at the head of this article, and thousands will drop tears of regret at the announcement of her death This event took place at her home on a farm at Bunker Hill, Kansas. In many respects she was one of the most unique characters that the civil war developed. She was born In 1817, and was 44 years old when the War of the Rebellion broke out. Circumstances brought her into close relation with battlefields and the horrors of inefficient hospital service; and from that time until the close of the war she was in the work of caring for wounded or sick soldiers. It Is within bounds to say that thousands of brave boys, invalided by disease or bullets, owed their lives to her ministrations and care. A sketch of her life during those four years, as told by Mrs. Mary Livermore In her “Story of the War,” is absolutely thrilling. No task was too great, no labor too severe or prolonged, if by it lives were to be saved or the sick bed made easier. She was the distributing agent In-the-fleld of the Sanitary Commission of the West, and where their supplies were Insufficient she went north and every time got all she asked for. At one time she was unable to secure all the milk, eggs and butter her sick boys needed. She went to Jacob Strawn, the 100.000 acre farmer of Illinois, with her story, and when she went back it was at the head of a large herd of cows, and amid the crowing of roosters and cackling of hens. Her methods were not always methodical. To accomplish an object she would march right through all obstacles and no red tape could hold her back. This greatly displeased army surgeons, and commanders of medical posts, until they learned to know her golden worth and let her go her own way and accomplish her purposes as best she could. Often she was unbusinesslike, but the end justified the means: frequently she had not the time to wait for methods. One incident will illustrate her directness In dealing with difficult problems. When the battle of Shiloh had been fought she had not acquired a distinctly recognized position. It was three days after the battle when the relief boats of the Sanitary Commission arrived at the Landing, and Mother Bickerdyke went to work A surgeon who did not know her found her at work in the field with the gray overcoat of a rebel officer on her back; her own blanket had been given away. On her head was a soft slouch hat, and altogether she presented a rather extraordinary appearance. But she had setup her soup kettles and had begun serving out refreshments to the needy.

“Where did you get those articles?” Inquired the surgeon ; “and under whose authority are you at work ?" She paid no attention; and soon after he again demanded In an Important and preemptory tone :

“Madam, you seem to combine in yourself a sick-diet kitchen and a medical staff. May l Inquire under whose authority you are working?”

And Mother Bickerdyke, then only a volunteer nurse, without glancing up, made reply, “I have received my authority from the Lord God Almighty, have you anything that ranks higher than that ?”

Mother BIckerdike was poor, unlettered; she couldn’t talk grammatically ; perhaps was not refined in the womanly sense of that term , but she bad the energy of a steam engine : the most robust health, and a love for her country and its defenders, and a Christian zeal that enabled her to go anywhere and do anything if thereby she relieved a single soldier from a moment of suffering. If the war had not developed her capabilities, possibly, yes, probably, she would have lived and died like millions of others in the humble walks of life—unwept, unhonored and unsung, But the war came—a place needed her, and she filled it just as conspicuously—just as gloriously—as did Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, or any other of the great generals of the War of the Rebellion.

Perhaps these lines—the tribute to her memory which we borrow largely from Mrs. Livermore’s book—may meet the eyes of scores who knew her during that heroic period. If they do we are sure their eyes will grow dim, and words of blessing rise to their lips for her magnificent character and service.

Source: Decorah Republican Nov. 21, 1901 P 1 C 5

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