Women's work

The story of the Fitchburg's Ladies Aid Society

by Sally Cragin

Illustration by Lennie Peterson

If you ask someone in Fitchburg who Amasa Norcross was, you may get the answer, "Our first mayor." And if you ask about his daughter, artist Eleanor, you may even hear, "Founded the Fitchburg Art Museum." But if you query the name Susan Norcross, chances are you'll be met with blank stares. Yet Susan, who served as secretary to the ad hoc Ladies' Soldiers' Aid Society during the Civil War, is one of the more remarkable unsung female heroines of this mill city.

Susan remains a gauzy and indistinct figure as glimpsed through the life of her daughter Eleanor (no letters to or from her mother survive). Had Susan Norcross lived, she might well have approved of Eleanor's independent spirit and philanthropic impulses, for she was a great believer in working for the public benefit.

During the 1840s, she was a Fitchburg schoolteacher, in charge of some 36 children in one of the more rural districts in town. But after marrying Amasa Norcross, an ambitious young local lawyer, she devoted herself to raising her children, first Eleanor, in 1854, and later brother Nelson, who died young. Not until shots were fired at Fort Sumter did Susan emerge from her role as wife and mother to become an indispensable leader in the new Ladies' Soldiers' Aid Society (LSAS).

In the summer of 1861, soon after soldiers were mustered, a group of women began meeting at Town Hall to sew sheets and flannel shirts and knit stockings for their boys. Of course, the ladies in Fitchburg had company -- nationwide, wives, mothers, and sisters prepared supplies. When President Lincoln heard, he asked Dorothea Dix to organize these women's groups. Thus the US Sanitary Commission was formed with "soldiers in the field" in the form of "Ladies' Aid Societies." Eventually, there were more than 10,000 of these groups -- some made up of just a dozen women, others comprising hundreds.

In Fitchburg, the society organized on September 16, 1861, and elected Susan Norcross as secretary. It cost 25 cents to join, and more than 100 women signed on to sew sheets and knit stockings. In its first two months, supplies were shipped to three regiments and the Sanitary Commission. The Fitchburg Sentinel regularly documented the society's activities, noting in November that knitted supplies were "now on their way to those who have so recently shown that cool bravery and daring courage which will form one of the brightest pages in the history of the present contest."

A month later, the paper observed that even more mittens, blankets, socks, and woolens had been sent to the 25th Regiment. Susan Norcross provided the liaison between her group and the public. In December, she wrote in the Sentinel: "As it may be gratifying to many who have contributed to the `Ladies' Soldiers' Aid Society,' to know the amount of work accomplished by them during the past three months, and the number of articles furnished to the several regiments in the field, the following statement is given . . ."

Norcross would go on to tally a dazzling inventory that on one occasion consisted of 1431 sewn or knitted articles that were produced in just two months. (A typical entry might read: "To 25th Regiment -- Co. F, Capt. Foss -- 27 comforters; 3 blankets; 50 prs. mittens, 63 prs. socks; 5 prs. overall; 70 towels; 50 sewing bags; 16 holders; 50 blanket pieces, and a quantity of gun wipers.")

This output is astounding, especially when you consider that each woman averaged some 15 articles, or approximately one item every four days. Of course, that's assuming each woman did equal work, which seems highly unlikely. Certainly, it would have taken far longer to sew a shirt or knit a pair of socks than to sew a bag or hem a handkerchief.

Work was steady but increased dramatically as the war raged on and battles were fought. Most devastating for Fitchburg folk was the October 1861 battle at Ball's Bluff, Virginia. The outnumbered Northern troops resisted Confederates for three hours before officers ordered a retreat across the Potomac. Boats sank, and soldiers drowned. Captain Simonds and 18 men were captured and quartered at Libby Prison in Virginia. The LSAS seamstresses immediately flew into action, and Simonds wrote: "It is a fact of which I will ever speak with pride that Fitchburg was the first and the only town as yet to aid her prisoners and Massachusetts the only state."

Supplies sent to Richmond showed impressive consideration for imagining the conditions soldiers were enduring within what the Sentinel described as "cold and cheerless prison walls." A number of items sent by the LSAS -- sewing bags, for instance -- suggest the Ladies had the dignity of the captured men in mind. They sent items so they could stay tidy (handkerchiefs, towels) and warm (neckerchiefs, blankets, shirts). Susan noted that "the funds for this work have been readily obtained and great zeal has been manifested by the ladies. . . . At present, there is no immediate call except for mittens." Cannily, the society provided both yarn and knitting instructions.

Susan Norcross administered gentle shaming to great effect. "Will not the ladies of the town, one and all devote some time to this purpose as they may allot but too great personal inconveniences, to enhance the usefulness and comfort of the brave and loyal men now engaged in the defense of our country?" (Captain Simonds and his men were later freed from the prison in early summer 1862 in a prisoner exchange and returned to the 15th Regiment at Harper's Ferry.)

By the close of 1861, the Ladies' Aid Society had expanded its good works. That Christmas, members sponsored a "dramatical exhibition" at Town Hall, consisting of "parlor dramas, instrumental and vocal music, recitations., etc., and will be worth the price of admission," read the Sentinel with proceeds benefiting the LSAS. Susan Norcross was taking on responsibility, indeed, counting mittens and dollars; but the ladies were determined not to make their expanded efforts seem inappropriate. An advertisement enumerated the entertainments and promised that "great pains will be taken to render them of a character unobjectionable to the most fastidious."

For the duration of the war, the LSAS sent supplies to the Sanitary Commission and Massachusetts Soldiers' Relief Association. They weren't just taking care of the local boys anymore. In 1863, they sent 1700 separate items, including foodstuffs and more than 220 shirts, compared to 1400 two years earlier. They sponsored welcome-home dinners and send-off banquets, and collected funds and supplies from other area groups.

At the close of 1863, Susan Norcross wrote to the Sentinel: "There have been times of exigency when the Society has labored with the ladies and citizens of the town generally, and at no time more anxiously or more earnestly than when the news of the battle of Gettysburg, and its terrible fatalities called for immediate and unsparing effort. . . . And the time has not come when we should cease or relax our efforts -- there is great work to be accomplished."

When the war was finally over, the LSAS quietly disbanded, with neither fanfare nor expectations of gratitude, and the women resumed their family lives. Yet, we can speculate that the impression on young Eleanor Norcross, who watched her mother's activities must have been profound. Eleanor spent her final decades in Paris, collecting objets d'art for her imagined museum in Fitchburg. A titanic job for one woman, but perhaps the example of Susan, able executor and organizational wizard, showed her what one woman could do.

Thanks to Dr. Ruth Penka and Eleanora West of Fitchburg Historical Society, and Professor Maura Henry of Harvard University for help and inspiration.

---

The Tales From Tritown archive

---