Guest Blog: P.G. Nagle on the Amazing Life of Emma Edmonds

P. G. Nagle: As the world adjusts to chaos and, at best, a new lifestyle of isolation and restricted movement, I’m reminded of how Emma Edmonds must have felt in the unusual life she crafted for herself, living as a man in 19th century America. Born and raised on a farm in Canada, she learned skills such as hunting, shooting, and fishing, that would serve her well later on. As a young woman, she assumed a male persona and became very successful selling Bibles and other high-quality books door-to-door. She reveled in the freedom from societal restrictions that she enjoyed as a male, but the price was risk. If she had been discovered, she would have faced imprisonment, and likely abuse as well. She dared not tell even her closest friends; certainly not her family. Hers was at its core a life of isolation, and she chose to accept this along with the risk.

Moving to America and eventually settling in Flint, Michigan, Edmonds (in her persona of Franklin Thompson) continued to enjoy prosperity, an active social life, and community including her church, of which her landlord was the pastor. Perhaps she was comfortable, having lived as a man for several years by then. Yet her comfort was soon challenged by the outbreak of secession and war.

Edmonds loved her adopted country so well that she felt compelled to offer her service, and so Frank Thompson enlisted in the 2nd Michigan Volunteer Infantry. Her risk accelerated; now she was living in close quarters with a hundred men, at first in barracks, and later in camps. No doubt her ingenuity was tested. The emotional strain of being constantly on guard against detection—constantly aware of everyone around her and alert to what they might be thinking—must have been something like what we face today.

I find this new awareness to be a kind of enforced mindfulness. We have no choice but to be vigilant, if we want ourselves and our loved ones—some of whom may be more at risk than ourselves—to survive this pandemic. We are aware of the consequences of each movement—the risk of touching doors, objects, things that other people have touched. The risk, even, of breathing the air that another has breathed.

Edmonds must also have been acutely aware of her every movement, knowing that she might be watched with suspicion at any time. Such vigilance forces one to live in the moment. Distractions bring a heavy cost; we must keep our focus. It is a new way of being.

Ultimately, Edmonds fell victim to sickness and faced a painful choice. Unable to care for herself in her illness, she had to flee in order to escape certain discovery. This cost her not only her reputation (Frank Thompson was proclaimed a deserter), but her very persona itself. Never again did she live in masculine freedom. She had to build a new life.

We, too, are building a new life. In a few years, the stress and tragedy of the time we are now entering will be softened in memory, and eventually this time will become an interesting paragraph of history. Yet now, as we prepare for what we know will be, at best, some level of devastation, the present feels stark. The near future looms with pending grief. We know it will be hard. Our only choice is how vigilant each of us will be.

A Call to Arms by P. G. Nagle

The Civil War Adventures of Sarah Emma Edmonds, alias Private Frank Thompson