Women Soldiers in the American Civil War
-Chrissie
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Though women could not yet join the army in the American Civil War, we know there were many who disguised themselves as men in order to join. Their reasons for doing so were as varied as the women themselves: some sought to follow a husband, brother, or father; some sought to gain a measure of independence they could not have otherwise known, some were enflamed with the same patriotic zeal that sent men to the recruiting office; and some were already living as men, and so went to war alongside their fellows.
It was generally not difficult for these women to pass as men. In a time before regularized documentation, anyone who wanted to change their identity needed only to move to a place where they were not already known. Army regulations on both sides required recruits to have medical examinations before enlistment, but this was not enforced. Once in uniform, there was little reason for anyone to question their sex, no one expected to see a woman in this context and so they didn’t. Clothing was not form-fitting, so a woman’s figure was not easily visible. A lone trip to the latrine could be explained by a person preferring privacy when relieving themselves. Dealing with menstruation was not an issue—bloody rags were seen commonly in camps because of injuries, no one would think to consider the origin of the blood. A lack of facial hair didn’t point to the person as being female, but simply as being young, there were many teenage boys who signed up having lied about their age. If they were exposed, it was usually due to severe illness or injury. Six women fought through pregnancy and were only found out because they went into labor. One of these fought at Fredericksburg and gave birth shortly after. Judging by letters from her comrades this was a topic of a great deal of discussion, but neither her name nor her alias is known.
Some of the women told their secret long after the war was over, generally in hope of drawing an army pension. Many were dismissed as liars trying to defraud the government. Any of those who managed to get the pensions had to find colleagues or officers to vouch for their presence, yet still many were turned away. Some, like Sarah Emma Edmonds, who joined the army as Franklin Flint Thompson, wrote about their experiences. Edmonds was already living as a man when the war began—years earlier she had escaped an abusive father and found that it was easier to get work and housing as a single man than as a lone woman. Edmonds fled camp after contracting malaria, for fear that she would be found out. After she recovered, she returned to the war as a (female) nurse. In her book, she also claims to have been a spy, moving between male and female personas as needed. Historians are unsure as to the validity of this, as neither her name nor any of her alias show up in the records from the era.
The saddest story to come out of these is that of Albert Cashier. Modern sensibilities recognize Cashier as a transgender man, but such terminology did not exist at the time, though we know people recognized themselves as such. Cashier was born in Ireland as Jeannie Irene Hodgers. When the family emigrated to the United States, the child was put into a male guise and presented as their father’s son, in order to get work to support the family. When they decided to become Albert Cashier is unclear, though they were established before the Civil War began. Cashier served a full term in the Union Army, was discharged and lived in Illinois. There, they held various jobs and eventually came into the employ of state senator Ira Lish. Cashier was severely injured and left unable to work due to a car accident in the spring 1911. Circumstance required bringing Lish into their confidence, and the senator used his contact and influence to arrange for them to be cared for in a veteran’s home where their secret would be kept. Progressing dementia caused Cashier to be moved to an asylum in 1914, where their secret was discovered. Conforming to the standards of the time, they were put in women’s clothing, likely for the first time since childhood. Being unaccustomed to wearing a dress caused a fall in which Cashier’s hip was broken, leaving them bedridden until their death the next year. Friends and former comrades made arrangements for Cashier to be buried with full military honors and in uniform, as would have likely been their wish.
We know of only four hundred women soldiers in the Civil War with certainty, but there is little doubt that many others enlisted, fought, and saw the end of their service with their male identities intact. Whether they maintained that identity, like Albert Cashier, or returned to their lives as women, we cannot know because their secret was never discovered.