Perhaps among all who have labored for the soldier, during the late war, among the women of our country, no name is better known that of Mrs. A. H. Hoge, the subject of this sketch. From the beginning until the successful close of the war, alike cheerful, ardent, and reliant, in its darkest, as in its brightest days, Mrs. Hoge dedicated to the service of her country and its defenders, all that she had to bestow, and became widely known all over the vast sphere of her operations, as one of the most faithful and tireless of workers; wise in council, strong in judgment, earnest in action.

Mrs. Hoge is a native of the city of Philadelphia, and was the daughter of George D. Blaikie, Esq., an East India shipping merchant—"a man of spotless character, and exalted reputation, whose name is held in reverence by many still living there."

Mrs. Hoge was educated at the celebrated seminary of John Brewer, A. M., (a graduate of Harvard University) who founded the first classical school for young ladies in Philadelphia, and which was distinguished from all others, by the name of the Young Ladies' College. She graduated with the first rank in her class, and afterward devoting much attention, with the advantage of the best instruction, to music, and other accomplishments, she soon excelled in the former. At an early age she became a member of the Old School Presbyterian Church, with which she still retains her connection, her husband being a ruling elder in the same church.

In her twentieth year she was married to Mr. A. H. Hoge, a merchant of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, where she resided fourteen years. At the end of that period she removed to Chicago, Illinois, where she has since dwelt.

Mrs. Hoge has been the mother of thirteen children, five of whom have passed away before her. One of these, the Rev. Thomas Hoge, was a young man of rare endowments and promise.

As before stated, from the very beginning of the war, Mrs. Hoge identified herself with the interests of her country. Two of her sons immediately entered the army, and she at once commenced her unwearied personal services for the sick and wounded soldiers.

At first she entered only into that work of supply in which so large a portion of the loyal women of the North labored more or less continuously all through the war. But the first public act of her life as a Sanitary Agent, was to visit, at the request of the Chicago branch of the United States Sanitary Commission, the hospitals at Cairo, Mound City and St. Louis.

Of her visit to one of these hospitals she subsequently related the following incidents:

"The first great hospital I visited was Mound City, twelve miles from Cairo. It contained twelve hundred beds, furnished with dainty sheets, and pillows and shirts, from the Sanitary Commission, and ornamented with boughs of fresh apple blossoms, placed there by tender female nurses to refresh the languid frames of their mangled inmates. As I took my slow and solemn walk through this congregation of suffering humanity, I was arrested by the bright blue eyes, and pale but dimpled cheek, of a boy of nineteen summers. I perceived he was bandaged like a mummy, and could not move a limb; but still he smiled. The nurse who accompanied me said, 'We call this boy our miracle. Five weeks ago, he was shot down at Donelson; both legs and arms shattered. To-day, with great care, he has been turned for the first time, and never a murmur has escaped his lips, but grateful words and pleasant looks have cheered us.' Said I to the smiling boy, some absent mother's pride, 'How long did you lie on the field after being shot?' 'From Saturday morning till Sunday evening,' he replied, 'and then I was chopped out, for I had frozen feet.' 'How did it happen that you were left so long?' 'Why, you see,' said he, 'they couldn't stop to bother with us, because they had to take the fort.' 'But,' said I, 'did you not feel 'twas cruel to leave you to suffer so long?' 'Of course not! how could they help it? They had to take the fort, and when they did, we forgot our sufferings, and all over the battle-field went up cheers from the wounded, even from the dying. Men that had but one arm raised that, and voices so weak that they sounded like children's, helped to swell the sound.' 'Did you suffer much?' His brow contracted, as he said, 'I don't like to think of that; but never mind, the doctor tells me I won't lose an arm or a leg, and I'm going back to have another chance at them. There's one thing I can't forget though," said he, as his sunny brow grew dark, 'Jem and I (nodding at the boy in the adjoining cot) lived on our father's neighboring farms in Illinois; we stood beside each other and fell together. As he knows, we saw fearful sights that day. We saw poor wounded boys stripped of their clothing. They cut our's off, when every movement was torture. When some resisted, they were pinned to the earth with bayonets, and left writhing like worms, to die by inches. I can't forgive the devils for that.' 'I fear you've got more than you bargained for.' 'Not a bit of it; we went in for better or worse, and if we got worse, we must not complain.' Thus talked the beardless boy, nine months only from his mother's wing. As I spoke, a moan, a rare sound in a hospital, fell on my ear. I turned, and saw a French boy quivering with agony and crying for help. Alas! he had been wounded, driven several miles in an ambulance, with his feet projecting, had them frightfully frozen, and the surgeon had just decided the discolored, useless members must be amputated, and the poor boy was begging for the operation. Beside him, lay a stalwart man, with fine face, the fresh blood staining his bandages, his dark, damp hair clustering round his marble forehead. He extended his hand feebly and essayed to speak, as I bent over him, but speech had failed him. He was just brought in from a gunboat, where he had been struck with a piece of shell, and was slipping silently but surely into eternity. Two days afterward I visited Jefferson Barracks Hospital. In passing through the wards, I noticed a woman seated beside the cot of a youth, apparently dying. He was insensible to all around; she seemed no less so. Her face was bronzed and deeply lined with care and suffering. Her eyes were bent on the ground, her arms folded, her features rigid as marble. I stood beside her, but she did not notice me. I laid my hand upon her shoulder, but she heeded me not. I said 'Is this young man a relative of yours?' No answer came. 'Can't I help you?' With a sudden start that electrified me, her dry eyes almost starting from the sockets and her voice husky with agony, she said, pointing her attenuated finger at the senseless boy, 'He is the last of seven sons—six have died in the army, and the doctor says he must die to-night.' The flash of life passed from her face as suddenly as it came, her arms folded over her breast, she sank in her chair, and became as before, the rigid impersonation of agony. As I passed through another hospital ward, I noticed a man whose dejected figure said plainly, 'he had turned his face to the wall to die.' His limb had been amputated, and he had just been told his doom. Human nature rebelled. He cried out, 'I am willing to die, if I could but see my wife and children once more.' In the silence that followed this burst of agony, the low voice of a noble woman, who gave her time and abundant means to the sick and wounded soldiers, was heard in prayer for him. The divine influence overcame his struggling heart, and as she concluded, he said, 'Thy will, O God, be done!' ''Tis a privilege, even thus, to die for one's country.' Before the midnight hour he was at rest. The vacant bed told the story next morning."

The object of these visits was to examine those hospitals which were under the immediate supervision of the Branch, and report their condition, also to investigate the excellent mode of working of the finely conducted, and at that time numerous hospitals in St. Louis. This report was made and acted upon, and was the means of introducing decided and much needed reforms into similar institutions.

The value of Mrs. Hoge's counsel, and the fruits of her great experience of life were generally acknowledged. In the several councils of women held in Washington, she took a prominent part, and was always listened to with the greatest respect and attention—not by any means lessened after her wide relations with the Sanitary Commission, and her special experience of its work, had become known in the following years.

Mrs. Hoge was accompanied to Washington, when attending the Women's Council in 1862, by her friend and fellow-laborer, Mrs. M. A. Livermore, of Chicago. After the return of these ladies they immediately commenced the organization of the Northwest for sanitary labor, being appointed agents of the Northwestern Sanitary Commission, and devoting their entire time to this work.

They opened a correspondence with leading women in all the cities and prominent towns of the Northwest. They prepared and circulated great numbers of circulars, relating to the mode and necessity of the concentrated efforts of the Aid Societies, and they visited in person very many towns and large villages, calling together audiences of women, and telling them of the hardships, sufferings and heroism of the soldiers, which they had themselves witnessed, and the pressing needs of these men, which were to be met by the supplies contributed by, and the work of loyal women of the North. They thus stimulated the enthusiasm of the women to the highest point, greatly increased the number of Aid Societies, and taught them how, by systematizing their efforts, they could render the largest amount of assistance, as well as the most important, to the objects of the Sanitary Commission.

The eloquence and pathos of these appeals has never been surpassed; and it is no matter of wonder that they should have opened the hearts and purses of so many thousands of the listeners. "But for these noble warriors," Mrs. Hoge would say, "who have stood a living wall between us and destruction, where would have been our schools, our colleges, our churches, our property, our government, our lives? Southern soil has been watered with their blood, the Mississippi fringed with their graves, measured by acres instead of numbers. The shadow of death has passed over almost every household, and left desolate hearth-stones and vacant chairs. Thousands of mothers, wives and sisters at home have died and made no sign, while their loved ones have been hidden in Southern hospitals, prisons and graves—the separation, thank God, is short, the union eternal. I have only a simple story of these martyred heroes to tell you. I have been privileged to visit a hundred thousand of them in hospitals; meekly and cheerfully lying there, that you and I may be enabled to meet here, in peace and comfort to-day.

"Could I, by the touch of a magician's wand, pass before you in solemn review, this army of sufferers, you would say a tithe cannot be told."

And then with simple and effective pathos she would proceed to tell of incidents which she had witnessed, so touching, that long ere she had concluded her entire audience would be in tears.

By two years of earnest and constant labor in this field, these ladies succeeded in adding to the packages sent to the Sanitary Commission, fifty thousand, mostly gifts directly from the Aid Societies, but in part purchased with money given. In addition to this, over four hundred thousand dollars came into the treasury through their efforts.

Early in 1863, Mrs. Hoge, in company with Mrs. Colt of Milwaukee, at the request of the Sanitary Commission, left Chicago for Vicksburg, with a large quantity of sanitary stores. The defeat of Sherman in his assault upon that city, had just taken place, and there was great want and suffering in the army. The boat upon which these ladies were traveling, was however seized as a military transport at Columbus, and pressed into the fleet of General Gorman, which was just starting for the forts at the mouth of the White River.

General Fisk, whose headquarters were upon the same boat, accorded to these ladies the best accommodations, and every facility for carrying out their work, which proved to be greatly needed. Their stores were found to be almost the only ones in the fleet, composed of thirty steamers filled with fresh troops, whose ranks were soon thinned by sickness, consequent upon the exposures and fatigues of the campaign.

Their boat became a refuge for the sick of General Fisk's brigade, to his honor be it said, and these ladies had the privilege of nursing hundreds of men during this expedition, and undoubtedly saved many valuable lives.

Early in the following spring, and only ten days after her return to Chicago, from the expedition mentioned above, Mrs. Hoge was again summoned to Vicksburg, opposite which, at Young's Point, the army under General Grant was lying and engaged, among other operations against this celebrated stronghold, in the attempt to turn the course of the river into a canal dug across the point. Scurvy was prevailing to a very considerable extent among the men, who were greatly in need of the supplies which accompanied her. Here she remained two weeks, and had the pleasure of distributing these supplies, and witnessing much benefit from their use. Her headquarters were upon the sanitary boat, Silver Wave, and she received constant support and aid from Generals Grant and Sherman, and from Admiral Porter, who placed a tug boat at her disposal, in order that she might visit the camps and hospitals which were totally inaccessible in any other way, owing to the impassable character of the roads during the rainy season. Having made a tour of all the hospitals, and ascertained the condition of the sick, and of the army generally, she returned to the North, and reported to the Sanitary Commission the extent of that insidious army foe, the scurvy. They determined to act promptly and vigorously. Mrs. Hoge and Mrs. Livermore, as representatives of the Northwestern Sanitary Commission, by unremitting exertions, through the press and by circulars, and aided by members of the Commission, and by the noble Board of Trade of Chicago, succeeded in collecting, and in sending to the army, in the course of three weeks, over one thousand bushels of potatoes and onions, which reached them, were apportioned to them, and proved, as was anticipated, and has been universally acknowledged, the salvation of the troops.

Again, in the following June, on the invitation of General Fuller, Adjutant-General of the State of Illinois, Mrs. Hoge visited Vicksburg, on the Steamer City of Alton, which was despatched by Governor Yates, to bring home the sick and wounded Illinois soldiers. She remained till shortly before the surrender, which took place on the fourth of July, and during this time visited the entire circle of Hospitals, as well as the rifle-pits, where she witnessed scenes of thrilling interest, and instances of endurance and heroism beyond the power of pen to describe.

She thus describes some of the incidents of this visit:

"The long and weary siege of Vicksburg, had continued many months previous to the terrific assaults of our brave army on the fortifications in the rear of that rebel stronghold. On the 19th and 22d of May, were made those furious attacks, up steep acclivities, in the teeth of bristling fortifications, long lines of rifle-pits, and sharp-shooters who fringed the hill-tops, and poured their murderous fire into our advancing ranks. It would seem impossible that men could stand, much less advance, under such a galling fire. They were mowed down as wheat before the sickle, but they faltered not. The vacant places of the fallen were instantly filled, and inch by inch they gained the heights of Vicksburg. When the precipice was too steep for the horses to draw up the artillery, our brave boys did the work themselves, and then fought and conquered. When they had gained the topmost line of rifle-pits, they entered in and took possession; and when I made my last visit to the Army of the Mississippi, there they were ensconced as conies in the rock, enduring the heat of a vertical sun, and crouching, like beasts of prey, to escape the rebel bullets from the earthworks, almost within touching distance. The fierce and bloody struggle had filled long lines of field-hospitals with mangled victims, whose sufferings were soothed and relieved beyond what I could have conceived possible, and it rejoiced my heart to see there the comforts and luxuries of the Sanitary Commission. The main body of the army lay encamped in the valleys, at the foot of the rifle-pits, and spread its lines in a semi-circle to a distance of fourteen miles. The health of the army was perfect, its spirit jubilant. They talked of the rebels as prisoners, as though they were guarding them, and answered questions implying doubt of success, with a scornful laugh, saying, 'Why, the boys in the rear could whip Johnston, and we not know it; and we could take Vicksburg if we chose, and not disturb them.' Each regiment, if not each man, felt competent for the work. One glorious day in June, accompanied by an officer of the 8th Missouri, I set out for the rifle-pits. When I reached them, I found the heat stifling; and as I bent to avoid the whizzing minies, and the falling branches of the trees, cut off by an occasional shell, I felt that war was a terrible reality. The intense excitement of the scene, the manly, cheerful bearing of the veterans, the booming of the cannon from the battlements, and the heavy mortars that were ever and anon throwing their huge iron balls into Vicksburg, and the picturesque panorama of the army encamped below, obliterated all sense of personal danger or fatigue. After a friendly talk with the men in the extreme front, and a peep again and again through the loop-holes, watched and fired upon continually, by the wary foe, I descended to the second ledge, where the sound of music reached us. We followed it quickly, and in a few moments stood behind a rude litter of boughs, on which lay a gray-haired soldier, face downward, with a comrade on either side. They did not perceive us, but sang on the closing line of the verse:

I joined in the second verse;

In an instant, each man turned and would have stopped, but I sang on with moistened eyes, and they continued. At the close, one burst out, 'Why, ma'am, where did you come from? Did you drop from heaven into these rifle-pits? You are the first lady we have seen here,' and then the voice was choked with tears. I said, 'I have come from your friends at home to see you, and bring messages of love and honor. I have come to bring you the comforts that we owe you, and love to give. I've come to see if you receive what they send you.' 'Do they think so much of us as that? Why, boys, we can fight another year on that, can't we?' 'Yes! yes!' they cried, and almost every hand was raised to brush away the tears. 'Why, boys,' said I, 'the women at home don't think of much else but the soldiers. If they meet to sew, 'tis for you; if they have a good time, 'tis to gather money for the Sanitary Commission; if they meet to pray, 'tis for the soldiers; and even the little children, as they kneel at their mother's knees to lisp their good-night prayers, say, God bless the soldiers.' A crowd of eager listeners had gathered from their hiding-places, as birds from the rocks. Instead of cheers as usual, I could only hear an occasional sob and feel solemn silence. The gray-haired veteran drew from his breast-pocket a daguerreotype, and said, 'Here are my wife and daughters. I think any man might be proud of them, and they all work for the soldiers.' And then each man drew forth the inevitable daguerreotype, and held it for me to look at, with pride and affection. There were aged mothers and sober matrons, bright-eyed maidens and laughing cherubs, all carried next these brave hearts, and cherished as life itself. Blessed art! It seems as though it were part of God's preparation work, for this long, cruel war. These mute memorials of home and its loved ones have proved the talisman of many a tempted heart, and the solace of thousands of suffering, weary veterans. I had much to do, and prepared to leave. I said, 'Brave men, farewell! When I go home, I'll tell them that men that never flinch before a foe, sing hymns of praise in the rifle-pits of Vicksburg. I'll tell them that eyes that never weep for their own suffering, overflow at the name of home and the sight of the pictures of their wives and children. They'll feel more than ever that such men cannot be conquered, and that enough cannot be done for them.' Three cheers for the women at home, and a grasp of multitudes of hard, honest hands, and I turned away to visit other regiments. The officer who was with me, grasped my hand; 'Madam,' said he, 'promise me you'll visit my regiment to-morrow—'twould be worth a victory to them. You don't know what good a lady's visit to the army does. These men whom you have seen to-day, will talk of your visit for six months to come. Around the camp fires, in the rifle-pits, in the dark nights or on the march, they will repeat your words, describe your looks, your voice, your size, your dress, and all agree in one respect, that you look like an angel, and exactly like each man's wife or mother. Such reverence have our soldiers for upright, tender-hearted women. In the valley beneath, just having exchanged the front line of rifle-pits, with the regiment now occupying it, encamped my son's regiment. Its ranks had been fearfully thinned by the terrible assaults of the 19th and 21st of May, as they had formed the right wing of the line of battle on that fearful day. I knew most of them personally, and as they gathered round me and inquired after home and friends, I could but look in sadness for many familiar faces, to be seen no more on earth. I said, 'Boys, I was present when your colors were presented to you by the Board of Trade. I heard your colonel pledge himself that you would bring those colors home or cover them with your blood, as well as glory. I want to see them, if you have them still, after your many battles.' With great alacrity, the man in charge of them ran into an adjoining tent, and brought them forth, carefully wrapped in an oil-silk covering. He drew it off and flung the folds to the breeze. 'What does this mean?' I said. 'How soiled and tattered, and rent and faded they look—I should not know them.' The man who held them said, 'Why, ma'am, 'twas the smoke and balls did that.' 'Ah! so it must have been,' I said. 'Well, you have covered them with glory, but how about the blood!' A silence of a minute followed, and then a low voice said, 'Four were shot down holding them—two are dead, and two in the hospital.' 'Verily, you have redeemed your pledge,' I said solemnly. 'Now, boys, sing Rally round the Flag, Boys!'—and they did sing it. As it echoed through the valley, as we stood within sight of the green sward that had been reddened with the blood of those that had fought for and upheld it, methought the angels might pause to hear it, for it was a sacred song—the song of freedom to the captive, of hope to the oppressed of all nations. Since then, it seems almost profane to sing it with thoughtlessness or frivolity. After a touching farewell, I stepped into the ambulance, surrounded by a crowd of the brave fellows. The last sound that reached my ears was cheers for the Sanitary Commission, and the women at home. I soon reached the regimental hospital, where lay the wounded color-bearers. As I entered the tent, the surgeon met me and said, 'I'm so glad you've come, for R—— has been calling for you all day,' As I took his parched, feverish hand, he said, 'Oh! take me home to my wife and little ones to die,' There he lay, as noble a specimen of vigorous manhood as I had ever looked upon. His great, broad chest heaved with emotion, his dark eyes were brilliant with fever, his cheeks flushed with almost the hue of health, his rich brown hair clustering in soft curls over his massive forehead, it was difficult to realize that he was entering the portals of eternity. I walked across the tent to the doctor, and asked if he could go with me. He shook his head, and said before midnight he would be at rest. I shrank from his eager gaze as I approached him. 'What does he say?' he asked quickly. 'You can't be moved.' The broad chest rose and fell, his whole frame quivered. There was a pause of a few minutes. He spoke first, and said, 'Will you take my message to her?' 'I will,' I said, 'if I go five hundred miles to do it,' 'Take her picture from under my pillow, and my children's also. Let me see it once more.' As I held them for him, he looked earnestly, and then said, 'Tell her not to fret about me, for we shall meet in heaven. Tell her 'twas all right that I came. I don't regret it, and she must not. Tell her to train these two little boys, that we loved so well, to go to heaven to us, and tell her to bear my loss like a soldier's wife and a Christian.' He was exhausted by the effort. I sat beside him till his consciousness was gone, repeating God's precious promises. As the sun went to rest that night, he slept in his Father's bosom."

Early in January, 1864, another Council of women connected with the Branch Commissions, Aid Societies, and general work of Supply, assembled in Washington, and was in session three days. Mrs. Hoge, was again a Delegate, and in relating the results of her now very large experience, helped greatly the beneficial results of the Council, and harmonized all the views and action of the various branches. As before, she was listened to with deference and attention, and we find her name mentioned in the most appreciative manner in the Reports of the meeting. Her remarks in regard to the value of free use of the Press, and of advertising, in the collection of supplies for the Army, stimulated the Commission to renewed effort in this direction, which they had partially abandoned under the censorious criticism of some portion of the public, who believed the money thus expended to be literally thrown away. The result was, instead, a very large increase of supplies.

In the two great Sanitary Fairs, which were held in Chicago, the efforts of Mrs. Hoge were unwearied from the inception of the idea until the close of the successful realization. Much of this success may be directly traced to her—her practical talent, great experience in influencing the minds and action of others, and sound judgment, as well as good taste, producing thus their natural results. The admirable conduct of these fairs, and the large amounts raised by them, are matters of history.

In an address delivered at a meeting of ladies in Brooklyn, New York, in March, 1865, Mrs. Hoge thus spoke of her work and that of the women, who like her, had given themselves to the duty of endeavoring to provide for the sick and suffering soldier:

"The women of the land, with swelling hearts and uplifted eyes asked 'Lord, what wilt thou have us to do?' The marvellous organization of the United States Sanitary Commission, with its various modes of heavenly activity, pointed out the way, saying 'The men must fight, the women must work, this is the way, follow me.' In accepting this call, there has been no reservation. Duty has been taken up, in whatever shape presented, nothing refused that would soothe a sorrow, staunch a wound, or heal the sickness of the humblest soldier in the ranks. Some have drifted into positions entirely new and heretofore avoided. They have gone forth from the bosom of their families, to visit hospitals, camps, and battle-fields; some even to appear as we do before you to-day, to plead for aid for our sick and wounded soldiers suffering and dying that we may live. The memory of their heroism is inspiring—the recollection of their patience and long-suffering is overwhelming. They form the most striking human exemplification of divine meekness and submission, the world has ever seen, and bring to mind continually the passage, 'He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth.'"

During the continuance of her labors, Mrs. Hoge was frequently the recipient of costly and elegant gifts, as testimonials of the respect and gratitude with which her exertions were viewed.

After a visit to the Ladies' Aid Society, of West Chester, Pennsylvania, she was presented by them with a testimonial, beautifully engrossed upon parchment, surmounted by an exquisitely painted Union flag.

The managers of the Philadelphia Fair, believing Mrs. Hoge to have had an important connection with that fair, presented to her a beautiful gift, in token of their appreciation of her services.

The Women's Relief Association, of Brooklyn, New York, presented her an elegant silver vase.

During the second Sanitary Fair in Chicago, a few friends presented her with a beautiful silver cup, bearing a suitable inscription in Latin, and during the same fair, she received as a gift a Roman bell of green bronze, or verd antique, of rare workmanship, and value, as an object of art.

Mrs. Hoge made three expeditions to the Army of the Southwest, and personally visited and ministered to more than one hundred thousand men in hospitals. Few among the many efficient workers, which the war called from the ease and retirement of home, can submit to the public a record of labors as efficient, varied, and long-continued, as hers.