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.