Hello! Did you miss me? Sorry for not updating recently, I’ve been extremely busy. But, here I am now!
Part of my busy-ness is working on another project dealing with Reconstruction, so I’ve been doing quite a lot of research on that. I haven’t found many Extraordinary Ladies, unfortunately – Reconstruction was kind of a bust all around, and no one really had a chance to shine.
The Civil War, though…
An estimated 250-400 women (possibly more), both Union and Confederate, assumed a male identity, enlisted, fought, and sometimes even died on the battlefield.
Today, we’re going to talk about one of the more famous of these women, Sarah Emma Edmonds, who fought as Frank Thompson. Sarah was kind enough to write down her experiences in a memoir, Nurse and Spy in the Union Army, so finding information about her has been quite easy!
Sarah was born in 1842 (possibly late 1841), in Nova Scotia. Reportedly, she grew up in a religious, strict household. As a child, she read Fanny Campbell, the Female Pirate Captain, which inspired in young Sarah a thirst for adventure that would follow her for the rest of her life (of further inspiration, no doubt, was that Captain Campbell also cross-dressed on many of her own adventures).
Not much is known of Sarah’s mother (Sarah doesn’t speak much of her childhood, even in her memoir). But there is some indication that she fled Nova Scotia as a teenager in the 1850s to escape her domineering father and possibly a coerced marriage.
She spent some time in both New England and the Far West in the late 1850s, possibly engaged in missionary work or possibly also a traveling salesman. Supposedly, this is when Sarah first adopted her male identity, selling Bibles as ‘Frank Thompson.’ She came to love America, and think of it as her adopted home.
And so, when war broke out in 1861, Sarah felt compelled to be of service to her new country. President Lincoln had just put out a call for volunteers, encouraging young men of the Union to enlist. Perhaps inspired by her childhood stories, or perhaps by her desire to do more than “stay at home and weep,” Sarah decided to assume the life of a soldier. She reported to the recruitment office in Flint, Michigan, and enlisted as Frank Flint Thompson. As the army was desperately in need of soldiers, Sarah’s medical examination was quite perfunctory. Her doctor cared only that her eyes and hands worked well enough for her to shoot, and she had at least three teeth with which to tear paper cartridges. And Sarah was enlisting when hordes of sixteen- and seventeen- year old boys were lying about their age to enlist. What was Sarah but one more fresh-faced recruit with delicate features?
And so Sarah Emma Edmonds joined the 2nd Michigan Infantry under General George McClellan in 1861.
Her duties at first were, ironically, not that different from what she would have been doing had she volunteered as female – ‘Frank’ was quickly put to work as a nurse, tending the wounded on the front lines.
Things took a turn in Sarah’s life, though, when she befriended fellow soldier James Vesey, a courier. Sarah thought quite well of her friend… and so, when James was killed in the line of duty, she was devastated. She wanted to find some way to honor her friend’s sacrifice; and eventually realized she could do so by applying to fill his now-vacated spot as army courier. Her application was accepted, and ‘Frank Thompson’ became part of the army communications network.
Now, to deliver the mail in wartime is no mean feat!
Sarah would sometimes have to travel up to 100 miles to deliver important messages so the various armies could co-ordinate with each other and their various suppliers. Needless to say, many of these messages would have spelled calamity had they fallen into rebel hands; so Sarah had to work hard to stay hidden. She also had to travel through wilderness, such as when she had to swim herself and her horse across the Chickahominy River – then a pestilential area, where Sarah likely contracted the malaria which would play a prominent role in her life later on (not to mention, a shot in the arm and a broken leg; both of which never quite healed properly).
At some point, Sarah began working as a spy. There’s no official record of her work, but as we learned from Mary Bowser, the Union sometimes destroyed records to protect spies after the war. Sarah herself, though, wrote extensively about her escapades in sneaking past enemy lines. Some of her disguises were quite simple, such as ‘Bridget O’Shea,’ there to sell soap and apples to Confederate soldiers.
Other roles were far riskier.
At one point, Sarah blackened her face and hands with silver nitrate, darkened her hair and assumed the role of Cuff, a free black man looking for work in Richmond. However, no sooner had ‘Cuff’ entered the city than he was seized (despite his protestations of being a free man), given a pickaxe and put to work building Confederate fortifications and delivering water. Sarah turned this situation to her advantage – keeping her eyes and ears open and speaking with her fellow workers, Sarah gained a solid idea of Confederate capabilities in Richmond; intelligence her superior officers were only too happy to receive. On another expedition behind enemy lines, Sarah used the same silver nitrate trick to assume the role of a black washerwoman, who collected intelligence in the form of letters, maps and other important documents which rebel officers left in their coat pockets.
Sarah was present at Antietam, and though writes little of her experiences, she almost certainly took up arms and fought in the bloodiest battle of the Civil War.
Sarah writes movingly of finding a soldier after the worst of the fighting had abated, slowly bleeding to death. She gave the young soldier brandy and water, and the two of them prayed together. Near the end, Sarah’s companion confessed a great secret- the young private was a woman!
She requested that Sarah be the one to bury her, for the soldier had no wish for her secret to be discovered post-mortem. Sarah, of course, agreed, and personally saw to it that the soldier was wrapped in a sheet and laid to rest near a mulberry tree, a little ways apart from the other soldiers’ graves. Sarah does not give the soldier’s enlisted name, but says the woman joined with her brother; and that both were killed in the fighting at Antietam.
Sarah was not to see the end of the war as Frank Thompson. Her excursions into the swampy lands of the South had caused her to contract malaria – not an uncommon disease for the time and place. She could easily have reported to the infirmary for treatment, but dared not for fear that her true gender would be discovered. Instead, Sarah went to a private hospital, as Sarah Edmonds, and stayed there until she recovered.
Unfortunately, when she was released from the hospital, she found that Frank Thompson was on a list of deserters! Returning to the army would almost assuredly mean execution. And so Sarah, returning to her, female, identity, served out the rest of the war as a hospital nurse. There’s no evidence she ever returned to living as Frank Thompson.
In 1867, she married a Canadian mechanic named Linus Seelye, and is sometimes known by the name Sarah Seelye or Emma Seelye. However, most accounts use her name at the time of her adventures. She and Mr. Seelye moved to Texas, where they would eventually have three children together.
In 1886, in part due to her poorly-healed war wounds, Sarah petitioned Congress for a pension. After hearing about her remarkable story, Congress eventually dropped the charge of desertion and granted ‘Frank Thompson’ an honorable discharge; as well as a pension of $12 a month (Sarah is the only known female veteran of the Civil War to have received a pension). She is also the only known woman to have been admitted into the Union veterans’ organization, the Grand Army of the Republic.
In 1884, she attended a veteran’s reunion, where many of her old comrades were shocked to discover the true identity of Frank Thompson! However, many quickly got over it; as, in the words of a fellow soldier, “she followed that regiment through hard-fought battles, never flinched from duty, and was never suspected of being else than what she seemed. The beardless boy was a universal favorite.”
She died in 1898, in La Porte, Texas; and was buried in the portion of the cemetery reserved for Union veterans.
The Michigan Woman’s Hall of Fame inducted her as a member in 1992; and her memoir was republished in 1999 under the title Memoirs of a Soldier, Nurse and Spy. You can also find copies of her book at Project Gutenberg.
Sarah doesn’t often appear in popular culture. Many non-fiction biographies have been written about her and women like her, but few of them have been fictionalized. However, the spirit of Sarah Emma Edmonds is alive and well, as with many spirits of the Civil War, in the hearts of Civil War re-enactors. Following in the footsteps of Sarah and her dying soldier at Antietam, many modern women participate in Civil War re-enactments; often in the persona of a woman who enlisted as a man. Several Civil War re-enactment groups even have provisions for women joining under these auspices (though may be quite strict in enforcement). A documentary about these women, Reenactress, is currently in production.