CHAPTER XXIII.THE STANTON HOSPITAL.

COLONEL MULLIGAN.

Soon after the beginning of the war the “Irish Brigade” was organized in Chicago by Colonel Mulligan, whose life was sacrificed in the Union cause towards the close of the war. He was a devout Catholic, and a warm friend of the Sisters of Mercy. As his command were nearly all Catholics be determined to secure the services of the Sisters in behalf of his sick and wounded, and, before his departure from Chicago, called on Reverend Mother Frances, from whom he obtained the promise that the suffering among his soldiers should be cared for by her children. This is the mother of whom a brief sketch is given in a previous chapter. The regiment left Chicago inthe summer of 1861, and was finally stationed at Lexington, Missouri. On September 3, six Sisters of Mercy, escorted by Reverend Mother Francis and her assistant, left Chicago under the care of Lieutenant Shanley. The Superiors were to return when the Sisters were settled in Lexington.

The hospital was to be in charge of Sister M. Alphonsus Butler, assisted by her companions. To those who had never been within sight or sound of “war’s alarms,” this appeared to be an undertaking of no small hazard. The Sisters believed they were risking their lives. “Yes,” said one, “I was fully convinced I should never see Chicago again.”

They went by St. Louis to Jefferson City, from which point they were to proceed to Lexington. During their stay in Jefferson they were the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Mosely, who were ardent sympathizers with the Southern cause. Nothing could exceed their attention and kindness to the Sisters, to whom they showed every mark of respect. When Mr. and Mrs. Mosely withdrew to St. Louis they left their beautiful home at the disposal of their valued guests.

It was rumored that Confederate forces were stationed along the river banks, and that communication with Lexington would be speedily cut off. The Sisters, therefore, embarked on the first boat leaving Jefferson, the “Sioux City,” which was to carry them to their destination. It was under command of Lieutenant Shanley, who was conducting a detachment of troops to Lexington. Several ladies were on board, among whom was Mrs. Mulligan, who with her infant daughter was going to join her husband. As the steamer proceeded up the river therumors of “danger ahead” became more and more alarming. At length, at the earnest request of some of the ladies, Lieutenant Shanley gave orders to return to Jefferson. On reaching that city the officer in command directed that the ladies who were not willing to undertake the voyage should be put ashore, and that the “Sioux City” should resume her voyage to Lexington.

The second attempt, however, proved that the alarm of the ladies was not unfounded. Danger was constantly apprehended. It was given out as certain that the Confederates were stationed at Glasgow, a small town on the Missouri. When the boat came within a few rods of it the Confederates were seen rushing from the woods on both sides of the river. Sister M. Alphonsus, who was saying her office on deck, saw the men on the right bank uncovering a cannon and preparing to fire. She hurriedly entered the state room, saying:

“Here they are!”

“Who?” asked a Sister.

“The Confederates,” she replied.

While they were still speaking they heard the whizzing and rattling of bullets outside. The head of the boat was immediately turned, but the firing from both sides of the river continued for some minutes. Had the assailants waited till the boat had come within range of the cannon nothing could have saved her. Their impetuosity defeated their attempt. As it was, the escape of the boat was considered miraculous. The Sisters afterwards met a gentleman who had been among the Confederates at Glasgow on that occasion. He told them that the Southerners never could account for the escape of the “Sioux City.” There were five hundred infantry on theright bank and one thousand cavalry on the left. No one on board was wounded, but the craft was very much damaged. The pilot-house was completely riddled, as the Confederates had aimed particularly at the helmsman. The Southerners afterwards declared they did not know there were women on board when they fired on the boat, above all, the Sisters, for they were especially courteous to all who wore the religious habit. During the danger the other ladies were placed by the officers in the part of the boat which was least exposed. The Sisters stood in readiness to wait on the wounded, but blessed God that there were none such this time. When all peril was over one of the Sisters caused much amusement by saying “I continued to say my office all through the firing, so that I might have it finished before being shot.”

During the return voyage much apprehension was felt, because the Confederates were supposed to be in ambush at different points. About ten miles below Glasgow the boat stuck in a sand-bar, and the efforts of the men to release her were more terrifying than the Southern bullets. This was the last attempt made to reach Lexington. Meanwhile Colonel Mulligan’s brigade of two thousand men was surrounded by Price’s men, supposed to number twenty thousand. For three days the brigade made a gallant resistance. Their supply of water had been cut off for forty-eight hours, when they surrendered to General Price, September 20, 1861. The General proved himself a generous enemy, and his conduct won the esteem and gratitude of his distinguished prisoner. The two men became sincere friends before they parted.

The Sisters continued to occupy the Mosely residence. They experienced the greatest kindness and respectfrom the colored people left in charge of it. To the simple souls they were a great curiosity.

The old housekeeper wanted all her friends to come to see the Sisters, and numbers responded to her ardent invitations. These guests were puzzled to account for the want of resemblance between persons related to each other, as they thought, in the first degree. “You say this lady is your sister,” said one, “but she doesn’t look like you at all, nor this one, either.” It took some time to make them understand that the relationship was not in blood, but in spirit and profession.

The Jefferson City Hospital for the sick and wounded was placed under the care of the Sisters. This charge they readily undertook at the request of the authorities, as their original project of going to Lexington had proved impracticable. They found the poor soldiers in wretched condition. The hospital, a very recently established institution, had not yet sufficient furniture. Convalescing soldiers, who were the only nurses, could not be expected to bestow on the sick the tender care they required. No woman of a religious order had ever before been seen in Jefferson, and such of the soldiers as had heard of them had heard little that was construed to their advantage. The Sisters, therefore, on taking charge of the hospital met with a very cold reception. They showed neither surprise nor annoyance at this, and very soon the coldness and prejudice disappeared, being followed by appreciation and gratitude.

On entering the hospital they found a poor soldier in a woefully neglected condition, lying on a blanket laid on the floor. One of the Sisters requested the nurse to allow her to have a little water. When she received itshe knelt beside the poor sufferer and bathed his face and hands. The nurse, a rather stern person, stood by during the process.

“May I ask, madam,” said he when she finished, “is that man a relative of yours?”

“No, sir,” she replied, “I never saw him before; we are here to take care of the sick, and we attend every patient as we would our nearest and dearest relative.”

In a short time the Sisters, by their self-devotion, had gained the good will of the inmates and officers; and the hospital began to wear a better appearance. It took a good while, however, for the citizens and soldiers to become so accustomed to the Sisters as always to recognize them as such. One morning, as they were going processionally to Mass they met a new detachment of soldiers, who stepped aside to allow them the sidewalk. They kept a respectful silence until the Sisters had passed, when one turning to another inquired, “Who’s dead?”

When General Fremont and his staff came to Jefferson they at once visited the sick soldiers. Desiring to have an interview with the Sisters the General was shown to their apartment just as they had assembled for their frugal meal. When he knocked the door was opened, and, to their great astonishment, he and his staff, in brilliant uniform, stood before them. The interview was a very pleasant one. General Fremont was on all occasions most courteous to them, and granted everything they asked. Eloquently did they represent to him the wants of the poor soldiers, for whom he promised to provide, and his promises were religiously kept. This officer was noted for his kindness to his soldiers, especially the sick.

The Sisters also received several visits from ColonelMulligan and his brave little wife, an old pupil of theirs. When she heard of her husband’s capture, although she had but just recovered from a severe illness, she made her way across the country to Lexington, to comfort him by her presence. Soon after he was paroled, and they journeyed homeward together, stopping at Jefferson on their way. Mrs. Mulligan gave the Sisters a glowing account of her husband’s exploits, and moved them to tears by her description of his sufferings. She was proud of him, for he was a genuinely brave man. To rare merit he added rare modesty, and were it not for the animated recital of his devoted wife the Sisters would have heard but little of his thrilling adventures in Lexington.

On the 10th of March, 1863, an incident occurred in Mulligan’s Irish Brigade which, while not dealing with the labors of the Sisters, was of such an unusual character as to deserve mention. It was the presentation of a purse to Rev. Thaddeus J. Butler, D. D., the chaplain, by the Protestant members of the regiment. The following address accompanied the purse:

Rev. and Dear Sir:—We, the undersigned, Protestant members of the Twenty-third Regiment Illinois Volunteers, and O’Rourke Battery attached thereto, have learned with deep and sincere regret of your intention to leave us. From our long and happy association with you, and the many kindnesses we have experienced at your hands, we cannot permit you to depart without expressing to you the heartfelt sentiments we feel toward you. The earnestness, zeal and untiring energy you have displayed for the welfare of all connected with the regiment, the kindly and deep solicitude and manly courtesy which at all times we have experienced at your hands, your sterling worth, so nobly tried in the hour of dangerhave won for you all our hearts and gained your admiration and respect. In parting with you we feel that we have lost a dear and valued friend, a good counselor, and a Christian gentleman, and we assure you carry with you our sincere wishes for your welfare wherever your duty may call you. Wishing you a kind farewell and that God may bless you, we remain.

The signatures followed this.

Colonel Mulligan presented the purse in the presence of the officers and orderly sergeants of the regiment and in doing so said:

“Rev. and Dear Sir:—Our gallant brigade desires me to present to you as an earnest of their respect and affection the accompanying purse. To us all in every situation you have proved yourself the devoted friend and the exemplary priest. Our hearts are with you.”

One of the soldiers, writing to the Freeman’s Journal of this remarkable event, says:

“When the Protestants of our regiment address words of so much affection and attachment to our beloved chaplain, how are the Catholics, his own co-religionists, for whom he has labored zealously and devotedly, to testify their sorrow at his departure from them? Words can but inadequately do so.“Our separated brethren proved in a substantial manner the sincerity of their declaration by contributing liberally to the purse which was donated to him. They worked upon our rustic church as eagerly as those for whose benefit it was constructed. The amiable Captain Simison, an ardent admirer of Dr. Butler, superintended the work. Our late worthy and accomplished chaplain was necessitated to return to his own congregation at Chicago, which has been bereft of his ministry. General Kelley with his staff came from Cumberland to bid him farewell.The General held him in esteem and regretted his departure. Last evening the reverend doctor passed through the quarters and bade good-by to the several companies; afterward the men assembled at the depot, being anxious to obtain the last glimpse of him. Lines were formed by the men, between which he passed on entering the train; hands were extended on both sides, half of which he could not grasp. After entering the carriage, and when it was in motion, many others shook hands with him. The enlivening airs of Erin were played by the band. Captain Gleason called for three cheers for Dr. Butler, which were responded to with deafening plaudits. Colonel Mulligan came on the train from Cumberland, and with many of the officers accompanied the Doctor a short distance from the station.“Dr. Butler organized a temperance society here last fall. Being painfully sensible of the baneful effects of intemperance, the predominating sin of our race, he administered the pledge to almost 400 of the men. Although it has not eradicated the vice, it has checked it in a great measure. Many of the officers set the good example by joining the movement. The Colonel is president of the society, the Lieutenant Colonel is vice president. Father Butler did not pledge them for life; only during the term of their enlistment while they were under his spiritual care. Lieutenant Nugent invited the reverend doctor and most of the officers to supper last evening, where a bounteous table was spread for them, and good cheer prevailed.”

“Our separated brethren proved in a substantial manner the sincerity of their declaration by contributing liberally to the purse which was donated to him. They worked upon our rustic church as eagerly as those for whose benefit it was constructed. The amiable Captain Simison, an ardent admirer of Dr. Butler, superintended the work. Our late worthy and accomplished chaplain was necessitated to return to his own congregation at Chicago, which has been bereft of his ministry. General Kelley with his staff came from Cumberland to bid him farewell.The General held him in esteem and regretted his departure. Last evening the reverend doctor passed through the quarters and bade good-by to the several companies; afterward the men assembled at the depot, being anxious to obtain the last glimpse of him. Lines were formed by the men, between which he passed on entering the train; hands were extended on both sides, half of which he could not grasp. After entering the carriage, and when it was in motion, many others shook hands with him. The enlivening airs of Erin were played by the band. Captain Gleason called for three cheers for Dr. Butler, which were responded to with deafening plaudits. Colonel Mulligan came on the train from Cumberland, and with many of the officers accompanied the Doctor a short distance from the station.

“Dr. Butler organized a temperance society here last fall. Being painfully sensible of the baneful effects of intemperance, the predominating sin of our race, he administered the pledge to almost 400 of the men. Although it has not eradicated the vice, it has checked it in a great measure. Many of the officers set the good example by joining the movement. The Colonel is president of the society, the Lieutenant Colonel is vice president. Father Butler did not pledge them for life; only during the term of their enlistment while they were under his spiritual care. Lieutenant Nugent invited the reverend doctor and most of the officers to supper last evening, where a bounteous table was spread for them, and good cheer prevailed.”

It is in order to state here that on the 20th of December, 1861, Mr. Arnold, rising in his seat in the House of Representatives, at Washington, introduced a joint resolution giving the thanks of Congress to Colonel James A. Mulligan and the officers and men under his command for the heroic defense of Lexington, Missouri,which was read a first and second time. The joint resolution was as follows:

Resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives that the thanks of Congress be extended to Colonel James A. Mulligan and the gallant officers and soldiers under his command, who bravely stood by him against a greatly superior force in his heroic defense of Lexington, Missouri.

Resolved, That the Twenty-third Regiment of Illinois Volunteers—the Irish Brigade—in testimony of their gallantry on that occasion are authorized to bear on their colors the word “Lexington.”

Resolved, That the Secretary of War be requested to communicate these resolutions to Colonel Mulligan and his officers and soldiers.

The joint resolution was ordered to be engrossed and read a third time and, being engrossed, it was accordingly read a third time and passed19.

Rev. William Walsh, of Jefferson City, was a sincere friend of the Sisters during their abode in the hospital, and they remember him with lively gratitude. On New Year’s Day, 1862, they made their renewal of vows in the church. They also derived much comfort and support from the many kind and encouraging letters they received from their superior, Rev. Mother Francis. The warmest sympathies of this noble-hearted woman were aroused for her children, working in a cause so dear and sacred. She visited them during the fall, and frequently sent them contributions, provisions and delicacies for theirsick soldiers. These soon became so numerous that two more Sisters and several elderly women and young girls were sent to their aid. An additional hospital was required, and a building formerly used as a seminary was devoted to that purpose. The assistants of the Sisters wore a uniform of gray, and as all went to Mass every morning, when hospital duties permitted, the procession of the black and gray-robed maidens looked rather solemn.

Except in case of Catholics the ministrations of the Sisters were confined to the bodily ills of the sick. They rarely touched on religious subjects, save when the patient desired it. On one occasion they found a dying man whom they believed to be a Catholic. The Sisters who attended him asked him to what church he belonged. He looked cautiously around the ward and whispered:

“I am ashamed to tell.”

“But,” said she, “you should not belong to a church of which you are ashamed.”

The poor man then acknowledged that he was a Catholic, though, through human respect, he had concealed it until then. The Sister spoke words of advice and encouragement to the poor man—a brave soldier of earth, an indifferent soldier of Christ—and had the consolation of inducing him to receive the sacraments. His death took place soon after, and his fellow-soldiers, having arrayed him in his uniform, placed upon his bosom the crucifix which the Sister had given him. This act of reverence in men who seldom gave religion a thought surprised and pleased the Sisters not a little.

They remained in charge of the Jefferson City Hospital until April, 1862, when, the army having been orderedto another division, their services were no longer required. They, therefore, made preparations to return to Chicago. The night before the day appointed for their departure they were much surprised by receiving a serenade from the military band. Next morning Father Welsh said Mass in the hospital. The Sisters then bade “good-bye” to the few soldiers who remained, and the poor fellows were very much affected at the parting.

When the Sisters reached St. Louis they were waited on by Mr. Yateman, Sanitary Commissioner, who requested them to take charge of the hospital department of the steamboat “Empress,” then about to start for the battlefield of Shiloh, in order to transfer the wounded to places where they could receive proper care. Many of the sick and wounded were on the battlefield, sheltered only by tents, and deprived of almost every comfort. When the necessary permission from home was obtained the Sisters went aboard the “Empress,” bound for Pittsburg Landing, which they reached on Palm Sunday. They had been anxious to reach it that day, hoping to be in time for Mass; but they were surprised and disappointed to find that, instead of being a town or village, Pittsburg Landing consisted of only one house, a log cabin, in which there was no prospect of hearing Mass. They went ashore at once to visit the sick and wounded of both armies, who were in separate tents, and distributed to the poor men some refreshments, which were most gratefully received. Next day the “Empress,” laden with sick and wounded, started for Keokuk, Iowa. There were over three hundred sufferers aboard, and the Sisters were occupied from early morning till midnight waiting on them and endeavoring to soothe their depressed spirits. The “Empress”reached Keokuk on Holy Saturday, April 16, 1862. The removal of the sick to the hospital began at once and occupied two days, during which time the Sisters were engaged in doing everything possible to ease the pains of their patients.

On Easter Sunday they had the happiness of hearing Mass and receiving the sacraments. The Sisters of Notre Dame, who were present at Mass, awaited the Sisters of Mercy at the church doors, and, knowing they were fasting, invited them to come to their convent to breakfast. Much as the Sisters appreciated their kindness, they were obliged to decline, as they had to return as quickly as possible to their sick on the hospital boat. In the evening the Visitation Nuns sent a message to invite the Sisters of Mercy to dine at their convent. This invitation was accepted, as the sick and wounded had had their wounds dressed, and were made as comfortable as possible. At the Visitation Convent they received much kindness, and had the happiness of being present at benediction. At Mound City the Holy Cross Sisters, under Mother Angela Gillespie, showed much kindness to the Sisters of Mercy.

Next day the “Empress” returned to Pittsburg Landing for another cargo of the sick, who were conveyed to St. Louis. The boat made many voyages of this kind. The Sisters strove to get delicacies of all sorts for the sick wherever they landed, and in distributing these there were scenes at once amusing and touching. The men would gather around the Sisters like big children, holding out their piece of bread and begging for “just one little bit of jam.” The Sisters, not having the heart to refuse anyone, would give away all they had, trusting to kind Providence to send them more. The “Empress” also madea voyage to Louisville, where the Sisters placed under proper care the last cargo of the sick and wounded from the terrible battle of Shiloh. The end of May, 1862, concluded five weeks’ service on the hospital boat. To this day the Sisters of Mercy express gratitude for the kindness and almost reverential courtesy they experienced during their stay with the invalid soldiers. Accustomed to a life of seclusion and tranquillity, they did not venture on this undertaking without nerving themselves to encounter much that might be repugnant to their nature and profession. But none of their gloomy anticipations were realized. They always felt that they owed a special tribute to the brave men of both armies for the deference and courtesy they invariably received from Confederate and Federal alike. The soldiers under their care showed them a child-like docility and respect, and never was a word uttered in their presence by a warrior of either side that could offend the most delicate ear. “If,” writes one of the survivors of the nursing band, “the man who knows how to treat a woman with respect is himself worthy of respect, then all honor to the soldiers of the war, North and South.”

The authorities in Washington invite the Sisters of Mercy to take charge of both the institutions at the capital and the Western Pennsylvania Hospital, in Pittsburg. Death of the Superior of the Stanton Hospital. Buried with military honors. President Lincoln commends the Sisters for their self-sacrificing labors. A warm tribute from Father Canevin how the Civil war helped to wipe out religious bigotry.

In the autumn of 1862 application was made by the authorities in Washington to the Mother Superior of the Sisters of Mercy for nurses to take charge of the wounded soldiers in the Stanton Hospital in Washington City. Accordingly, four Sisters from the mother house in Pittsburg were appointed for the work. They hastily prepared and departed for the scene of duty, arriving in Washington the day before Thanksgiving. Finding that the Stanton, a long row of one-story frame buildings, was not quite ready for occupancy, the Sisters remained for a few days with the Sisters of Mercy, who were in charge of the Douglas Hospital then in operation in Washington. These Sisters were members of the Baltimore Community, founded some years previouslyfrom the house at Pittsburg. In a short time the new hospital was opened, and the Sisters repaired thither, and began their work by caring for one hundred and thirty wounded soldiers, who had just been carried in from an engagement. On December 8 four more Sisters arrived from Pittsburg, making in all eight, which number constituted the staff of Sisters engaged in the Stanton Hospital. Some of these did not remain until the close of the war, but were relieved as circumstances required by Sisters from home. These changes were not made without necessity, as the health of several of the original volunteers was hopelessly shattered by the severe duties entailed upon them. To the bodily fatigue incident to the care of so many patients was added much mental anxiety, caused by the responsibility attending the charge of grave cases. The successful issue in many severe surgical operations depended almost entirely on the vigilance of the nurse.

Too much praise cannot be given to the officials of the Stanton Hospital for their careful supervision and attention to the patients, and the unvarying kindness and confidence reposed in the Sisters. The surgeon in charge, Dr. John A. Liddell, and his assistant, Dr. Philip Davis, deserve special mention. Abundant supplies of everything needful for the sick were most liberally provided. As far as possible no want of the patients was left ungratified.

This was a source of great satisfaction to the Sisters, and lightened their cares considerably. What has been said of the work of Sisters in other hospitals might be repeated here. Their labors were arduous and unceasing. After every battle numbers of wounded were brought in, and received unwearied attention day and night. As arule the soldiers appreciated the work of the Sisters, and regarded them as their best friends. Often patients, when convinced that the hope of recovery was gone, confided their last wishes to the Sisters. They were frequently called upon to send messages to the loved ones far away, and write letters to absent friends. These and similar acts of kindness, with words of comfort and encouragement, made the day more than full “pressed down and running over” with meritorious acts. The Sisters frequently had the consolation of witnessing happy deathbed scenes, often of persons who, under less favorable surroundings might not have enjoyed this great blessing. Entire freedom of conscience was secured to all, each patient being at liberty to summon to his side the spiritual adviser of his choice. The Catholics were attended by the Jesuit Fathers, among whom Revs. Father Wagit, Brady and Roccofort were untiring in their efforts to console the sick and fortify the dying with the consolations of religion. The Sisters remained at the Stanton until the close of the war, when, their services being no longer required, they returned to Pittsburg, where they resumed their usual avocations.

The Western Pennsylvania Hospital in Pittsburg was used by the Government for a military hospital at this time, principally for Pennsylvania soldiers. Such men as were able to bear the fatigue of transportation from Washington or other places were sent to this institution in order to make room at the Stanton for cases direct from the field of battle. The Sisters of Mercy were invited to give their services, a request with which they cheerfully complied, early in 1863. In this institution the Sisters experienced the same courtesy from the officersas was extended to them elsewhere. Every arrangement compatible with existing circumstances was made to lighten their duties. In both these hospitals a chapel was fitted up and Mass was celebrated daily, which such convalescent patients as desired were at liberty to attend. The Sisters continued their work in the Pennsylvania Hospital until May, 1865. In Washington and Pittsburg the members of the Sanitary Commission gave very efficient aid towards alleviating the conditions of the patients by providing delicacies and reading matter. After each visit supplies were left in the hands of the Sisters to be distributed at their discretion.

The Douglas Hospital in Washington had been erected out of three large dwellings in the then fashionable part of the Capital City. It was so named from the fact that the most important of these three houses had been the residence of the famous Senator of that name.

Sister M. Collette O’Connor was in charge of this institution, and was revered by all who became acquainted with her. She died at the hospital, July 16, 1864, and her remains were escorted to Baltimore and buried with military honors.

One day President Lincoln visited the Stanton Hospital in Washington. Those who were fortunate to be present on this remarkable occasion received impressions that should remain ever fresh in their minds. None of the Sisters had ever met the Chief Executive, but when a tall, angular man with just the suggestion of a stoop about the shoulders sauntered up the path leading to the main entrance of the hospital they intuitively knew that it was President Lincoln. The homely, wrinkled face, with its careworn appearance, and the patient, almost patheticeyes appealed at once to the tender sensibilities of the Sisters. They knew little, and were without leisure to inquire, about the merits of either the Northern or Southern side of the bloody controversy then raging at its height, but they had a keen appreciation of human suffering and human sympathy, and their hearts went out at once to this plain man who so uncomplainingly carried the woes of the nation upon his shoulders.

GRANT, SHERMAN AND SHERIDAN.

The President went from cot to cot shaking hands with the poor patients and addressing them in the jocular manner he frequently employed to conceal the anguish caused by the sight of so much suffering. On occasions of this character the very simplicity and naturalness of the President only served to bring his greatness into brighter relief. The Sisters had a good opportunity of observing the man who had been called from his modest home in Illinois to become ruler of the Republic at the most serious crisis in its history. They saw in him a person who with a single stroke of the pen was destined to liberate nearly four millions of slaves. They saw a man who was daily performing the most painful duties under the most trying circumstances, but who did each act “with malice toward none; with charity for all.” They saw in him the one distinctively grand figure of the war. They realized with others that amid the clash and roar and smoke of battle; amid the perplexities and contentions of legislative halls, and the difficulties and differences of Cabinets, there arose pre-eminent above all the peaceful, pathetic, powerful personality of Abraham Lincoln.

Mr. Lincoln remained at the hospital for some time. With the trained eye of a man of affairs he observed thecleanliness of the place, and did not fail to notice all that the Sisters were doing for the comfort and relief of the patients. When he departed he cordially shook hands with each of the Sisters, and congratulated them on the work they were performing in the cause of humanity.

Rev. J. F. Regis Canevin, rector of St. Paul’s Cathedral, Pittsburg, has paid a high tribute to the work of the Sisters of Mercy in the late war.20A passing reference is made to some of the events already detailed in this chapter, but it is such an able presentation of the case that it deserves reproduction in these pages. Father Canevin said in part:

“The Sisters went forth from their peaceful convent homes to serve their God and country in the Stanton Military Hospital at Washington and in the Western Pennsylvania Hospital at Pittsburg. The military physicians regarded them as valuable assistants, and oftentimes the nuns had the entire charge of the patients, administering of medicines and arranging bandages with deft and skillful hands.

“The Sisters had four hundred and fifty wounded men under their care in the Stanton Hospital at one time, and after the second battle of Fredericksburg, December 13, 1862, a number of Confederate wounded were laid side by side with those whom they had wounded.

“‘It was a beautiful sight,’ said one of the Sisters, ‘to see how tenderly the convalescent Union soldiers helped to nurse back the health of those whom they had so fiercely fought a short time before. Those who are first in war are also first in peace.’

“‘The bravest are the tenderest,’“‘The loving are the daring.’”

“Southern sympathizers in Washington sent large supplies of provisions and delicacies for their Confederate friends. ‘We took all they sent,’ said a veteran Sister, ‘but we saw that the boys in blue fared as well as their foes.’ This was holy simplicity. At the time the Sisters were engaged in their work of mercy in the hospitals and on the battlefields of the North some of their companions who had left their side a few years before were under the shot and shell which were hurled from land and water when Grant besieged Vicksburg, and fear and famine stalked the Confederate camp and city. The Sisters followed the ill-fated army through all the hard fortunes of the struggle; nursed the sick, stanched the blood, bound up the wounds of those who fell on the battlefield, and spoke words of consolation and hope to the dying.

“We can read in military annals how the dying soldier fancied a mother or a sister to be supporting his head as the black-robed nun bade him confide in the Saviour of Calvary, and poured refreshing drops on his lips parched and quivering in the throes of death. It was loyalty to the Divine Master that caused these women to serve on both sides of the line.

“After the war the Vicksburg Community returned to their convent and found their latest golden opportunity in the South in the great yellow fever scourge of 1878, which spread sorrow and gloom over the land, until even hope was almost paralyzed. Yes, when fear had dissolved all the ties which hold society together; when succor could not be bought with gold; when the strongest natural affections yielded to the love of life, then a band of Sisters of Mercy, led by the same fearless heroines from Pittsburg who fifteen years before had seen duty on thebattlefield, were to be found bending over the plague-stricken couch, praying, ever encouraging and holding up to the last before the expiring patient the image of the Cross.

“When the brave men of both armies had fought out the nation’s quarrel, and when the roar of cannon died away and the smoke of battle was lifted from the land, the bright sun of peace shone upon a people more united than they had ever been before. Religious bigotry and sectarian hatred had received a deadly stroke. There was more Christianity amid the rough scenes of war than there had been in preceding years of peace. The best blood of the Roman Catholic and of the Protestant co-patriot had reddened the same stream and mingled on many a well-fought field; side by side they met the charge; side by side they repelled the shock; side by side they fell. In the same pit their bodies were deposited. The dew fell from Heaven upon their union in the grave.

“Misfortune had taught them to know and respect and trust and love each other. Those who survived learned to despise the cowards and hypocrites and bigots who at home, in ignorance or malice, had armed man against his brother, and in the name of religion kept us in perpetual conflict. The soldier descendant of the New England Puritan, and of the Papist-hating Orangeman, discovered that his Catholic comrade was a brave, generous-hearted man, and a consistent Christian; that the Roman Catholic Church was not the sworn enemy of free institutions; that the Sisters of that Church were kind, earnest, hard-working, useful and devoted women in the service of that Christ whose doctrine is that we should love one another. And thus the Sisters of Mercy returned fromwar to find the good they and other religious women had done had won the grateful recognition of the whole country. Thoughtful men learned from their deeds that even a Covenanter need not fear to offend the Creator in acknowledging that there rested a holy influence in hearts consecrated to God.”

A Sister of Mercy at Charleston, under date of September 23, 1865, thus writes to a friend concerning the destitution in that city and State:

“Every phase of life has been so upturned here that the once rich, who were wont to assist the poor, are now wretchedly poor themselves, and are grateful for a little of the common necessaries of life when given them. We have called upon the Northern storekeepers here and received some assistance from them, but we cannot call too often. Few of our own people are able to go into business; none can afford to give at present, though the will is good. If, my dear lady, you can do aught in this emergency, you will perform a great act of charity. Could you see these people as we do your heart would ache. Sad eyes swimming in tears; little delicate hands skinned from the wash-tub, and hearts without hope for the future. I saw last week a lady, one of the wealthiest a short time ago, lying on a miserable pallet, the room without furniture, where she once had every comfort. The house had been stripped of everything, linen, plate and wines of all kinds; her limbs were covered with sores, occasioned by anxiety of mind and poverty of blood; the result of almost starvation. Were this an isolated case, it could be relieved, but, unfortunately, the city abounds in them. The planters for miles around are homeless, and are compelled to take refuge in the city without any means of subsistence.”

Sisters DeSales and DeChantel, and some five other Sisters of the Sisters of Mercy arrived in New York in the latter part of 1865 from White Sulphur Springs, Montgomery County, Virginia, where they were engaged attending the sick and wounded soldiers in the hospital for the last four years. They were accompanied by the Rev. Mr. Croghan, of Charleston, who was also engaged during the war as chaplain in the same hospital.

According to the New York News, at the time of Lee’s surrender there were over three hundred sick and wounded at this particular hospital. It adds: “Over sixty of these were Federal soldiers, and not more than two days’ rations to meet their wants. The Sisters were among strangers, having neither money nor worldly influence, but, compelled by the spirit of their holy calling, they devised means to procure provisions enough to suffice for more than six weeks for the patients and remained with them until all had either convalesced or died.

“About the 22d of May they proceeded to Lynchburg. General Gregg received them at this port most courteously and offered them every means in his power to prosecute their journey to Washington, where they again applied to General Hardie for transportation to Charleston. In this they were not successful. General Hardie refused to send them, on the ground that, being non-combatants, no provision had been made by the authorities in Washington for such persons. Finally, through the kindness of some private gentleman in Washington, Father Croghan was enabled to procure transportation to New York, where they found themselves strangers and penniless, and with hardly sufficient wearing apparel to enable them to appearin public. On hearing of their embarrassing circumstances, the Rev. William Quinn, of St. Peter’s, Barclay street, called a few of his parishioners together on Sunday last with a view to raising the necessary funds to enable these good Sisters to return to their homes. The result was that, aided by Judge Andrew Clarke, Esq., and a few other gentlemen, the sum of eleven hundred and forty-eight dollars was collected in a few days. On Saturday last this amount was presented to Sister DeSales, at the Convent of the Sacred Heart, in Seventeenth street, by a committee consisting of the Rev. William Quinn, Dennis Quinn and Andrew Clarke. On receiving the amount Sister DeSales, on behalf of herself and the community she represented, expressed her earnest thanks to the donors, promising that their kindness should never be forgotten by their community.”

The Convent at Charleston belonging to these Sisters was burned to the ground, having caught fire from the shells thrown into the city during the bombardment of the Federal forces.

The Surgeon General applies for nurses to care for the sick soldiers in Camp Curtin, Harrisburg. Bishop Wood gives a ready assent. Their valuable Services at the State Capital. An official letter of thanks from Governor Curtin. Down the James River in the Commodore to bring the wounded from the battlefield of Yorktown. A poor soldier abandoned in an isolated tent. Rescued from death itself. A grateful patient.

JEFFERSON DAVIS.

In January, 1862, Dr. Henry H. Smith, Surgeon-General of the State of Pennsylvania, applied to Rev. Mother St. John at the Mt. St. Joseph Convent, Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, for Sisters to serve as nurses of the sick soldiers in Camp Curtin, Harrisburg, saying he had had experience of the Sisters’ efficiency in nursing while he attended at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Philadelphia, and felt they would be able to do good work at the State Capital.

Bishop Wood, to whom the Doctor had spoken of the matter, gave ready assent, and writing on the 22d of the same month, the Doctor speaks of the arrangements for the Sisters’ journey as having been effected, and adds: “The Doctor hopes the Sisters will not disappoint him. Whilst besetby applicants, every female nurse has been refused, Dr. Smith being unwilling to trust any but his old friends, the Sisters of St. Joseph. There is a large field of usefulness, but it is to be properly cultivated only by those whose sense of duty will induce them to sacrifice personal comfort. The living is rough, the pay poor, and nothing but the sentiments of religion can render the nurses contented.”

On January 23 three Sisters under the direction of Mother Monica Pue, went to Harrisburg, and on the following day the Surgeon-General took them to Camp Curtin Hospital, which he placed under their charge. At the camp there were then about three thousand militia. The hospital was merely a temporary frame building, roughly put together, and to make the apartments at all habitable blankets and other such improvised tapestry had to be hung over the boards. The Sisters arrived at the hospital towards evening. They found that three matrons had been in charge, and with them a number of the soldiers acting as nurses. The reception accorded the Sisters was not at all cordial. One man had been given the charge of seeing to the Sisters’ wants, and, coming to them he asked what they wished to have for supper, saying: “I know that the discipline of the Church is bread and water, but I do not know what you ladies may want to have.” The Sisters replied that anything would do, and were shortly afterwards summoned to the table the nurses had just left in a most uninviting condition. The viands were left untasted, and the Sisters began to see what work was before them, and to arrange matters accordingly.

It was not long before the sick soldiers as well as those employed in the hospital began to feel the beneficialeffects of the Sisters’ care, and their efficiency in hospital administration; and the respectful attentions and military salutes of the men became almost oppressive. Bishop Wood paid several visits to the Sisters at the camp, and also to the Church Hospital, Harrisburg, where three Sisters, under charge of Sr. Mary John, afterward the Rev. Mother of the Community, took charge of the sick, who, among the arriving militia, were unable to proceed as far as the camp.

Finding themselves always addressed by the physicians as “Sisters of Charity” or “Mercy,” the Sisters drew the Surgeon-General’s attention to the misnomer, but he replied that the name accorded with their work, and it would be no use in trying to explain to the doctors about the different orders. Hence in all newspaper reports and in various accounts of their work given at the time the Sisters were always mentioned as Sisters of Charity or Mercy, which they took as another sign that their patron, St. Joseph, desired them to labor as he had done, in silence and obscurity, unknown and unnoticed by the world.

On the 2d of February the Surgeon-General, after visiting the hospitals, wrote to Mother St. John: “I have found all the Sisters perfectly well, and with no complaints after their trial of the inconveniences and exposure attendant on military life. Already each hospital shows the blessing attendant on their presence. Everything is now neat, orderly and comfortable. Sr. P. is ‘Captain of the Ward’ in the camp hospital, and has a drummer boy to attend her. Sister C. in the kitchen is also in authority, and has a sentry at the kitchen door. * * * Sr. M. is ‘the Major,’ and commands the surgeons, keepingthem in good humor by her kind acts. All seem happy and contented, and the Governor and others speak frequently of the good move made in bringing them there. * * * At the Church Hospital Sister C. shines in the refectory, and everything is in excellent order.”

On the 18th of the same month the doctor called for more Sisters, adding, however, “Matters are so unsettled by the recent victories I am at a loss whether to send for extra help. There are rumors of closing the camp or rather of giving it up to the United States.”

What Dr. Smith had anticipated came to pass; the soldiers at Camp Curtin were called to the front, and the Sisters left the Church Hospital March 27, and Camp Curtin April 8, ’62. It was indeed touching to see the difference between the reception the men had given the Sisters on their coming and the feeling of sorrow that marked their parting with them. Many of the men sobbed aloud, and the Sisters themselves were deeply moved at the thought of how many, who were starting off in health and strength, would ere long meet a sad and painful death.

On the 14th of April, by order of Governor Curtin, the following letter was sent by Dr. Smith to Madam St. John, Superior of the Sisters of St. Joseph:

“Madam:—During a period of several weeks, amidst the confusion of a constantly changing camp, and amidst an epidemic of measles, with typhoid fever, etc., six of ‘The Sisters of St. Joseph,’ sacrificing all personal comfort, ministered faithfully and truly to the comfort and welfare of the sick. Neatness, order and efficient ministration immediately followed their arrival in the camp.“Highly appreciating their valuable services and Christian devotion to the relief of human suffering, theState authorities desire to express to them and your order high appreciation of the self-sacrificing spirit which they exhibited among the sick soldiers, both at Camp Curtin and the Church Hospital in Harrisburg.“By order of“A. G. CURTIN, Governor of Pennsylvania.”

“Highly appreciating their valuable services and Christian devotion to the relief of human suffering, theState authorities desire to express to them and your order high appreciation of the self-sacrificing spirit which they exhibited among the sick soldiers, both at Camp Curtin and the Church Hospital in Harrisburg.

“By order of

“A. G. CURTIN, Governor of Pennsylvania.”

Dr. Smith himself wrote:—“It affords me pleasure to transmit the accompanying order, acknowledging the valuable services of the Sisters recently engaged at Harrisburg. * * * In the event of a fight at Yorktown I shall go there with a party on a steamboat and stop at Fortress Monroe. If some hardy Sisters will volunteer for duty with me I will perhaps be able to take them. The notice will not be more than six hours. * * * I will share the exposure with them, and will do all that is possible to make them comfortable, bringing them back with the wounded, unless you allow them to stay. Your Order is, I believe, the only one that is doing duty with the army. I think they can do much good, under my care. Sr. —— will be especially useful in cooking for the wounded in the boat I shall take at the Fortress.”

On the 18th the orders came, and, under the escort of Captain Bankson, U. S. A., three Sisters went to Baltimore and thence to Fortress Monroe. On the 26th the Doctor sent a request for six more Sisters, promising plenty of occupation.

In a letter dated April 27, 1862, Archbishop Wood, after naming the Sisters detailed “for attendance on the wounded and sick soldiers under the direction of Dr. Henry Smith, Surgeon-General of the Pennsylvania Volunteers,” adds “We commend them to the kind care and protection of the Surgeon-General, and to the attention of all persons, ecclesiastical and civil, with whom theymay be in any way associated, holding it as a special and personal favor bestowed on ourselves.”

On April 21, writing from Fortress Monroe, the Doctor informs Mother St. John that the Sisters on their arrival had been put at once on hospital duty, and were doing much needed work, especially in the preparation of sick diet, etc. He adds: “They are sure to be appreciated. * * * They come into friendly competition with a party of nurses under the direction of Miss Dix. They will win the good will and opinion of all.”

The three Sisters first sent were again under the direction of Mother Monica Pue. They were kindly and eagerly welcomed by Dr. Smith, who, with the aid of a spy-glass, saw the boat approaching and hurried to meet them. There were then some sick and wounded on board the floating hospital, the “Whillden.” Other Sisters went down later under charge of one of the hospital surgeons, who, poor man, was anything but pleased with being detailed to act as escort to five ladies. But all his fears, as he afterwards declared, were speedily dispelled when he found his office rather a sinecure, since the Sisters did not call on him for the thousand and one attentions it had been his fortune to have been called on to give while attending secular ladies.

At Fortress Monroe they went aboard the two floating hospitals, the “Whillden” and the “Commodore.” On May 3 they had the great consolation of receiving the Sacraments from Rev. Father Dillon, of the Congregation of the Holy Cross, who drove up and down the Camp by Fortress Monroe, hearing the confessions of the soldiers. He said Mass on board the “Commodore” May 3 and 4.

On May 6, in company with the Surgeon-General and his assistants, three of the Sisters went down the JamesRiver in the “Commodore” to bring up the wounded from the battlefield of Yorktown. All night from 5 P. M. till 2 A. M. of next day the wounded were being carried to the vessel on stretchers. Harrowing, indeed, were the scenes that there met their eye, and sad it was to find how inadequate were their efforts to fully assuage the terrible sufferings of the victims. But all that could be done was done, and the supply of coffee and stimulants was thankfully received by those who for days had languished without any attentions. A company of Pennsylvania Volunteers, whom the Sisters met near the landing had not had any food for two, and some for three days, the steamer laden with provisions having been unaccountably delayed. On their way up the river the “Commodore” passed the vessel with the longed-for supply of food on its way down to the men.

Among the wounded were many of the Southern soldiers, who had been taken prisoners; and they seemed particularly grateful for the attentions of the religious. The wounded lay in rows along the decks of the steamers, and in the state rooms, so close together that it was almost impossible to pass along without treading on them.

On May 16 Dr. Smith wrote to Mother St. John: “The Sisters have given universal satisfaction, and have done much good. It will be acknowledged hereafter in proper form. In the meantime I should like to take six of them with me again, ending perhaps at Richmond.” Six of the Sisters came up with the wounded on the “Commodore” to the port of Philadelphia, and stayed with them until they had all been removed to the different hospitals of the city. After a few days’ rest they returned to receive the wounded from the battle fought near Richmond.

Meanwhile the camp at Harrisburg had been reopened, and three Sisters were again called to attend the hospital. One of them relates that on her rounds about the place on their return she saw an isolated tent by the door of which lay a coffin. To her inquiries an officer replied that in the tent there was a man dying of camp fever. She inquired whether it was possible to save the man, and, on hearing that it was not known, declared her intention of going to see. The officer refused to allow her to go in, saying it would be suicide, as she could not go without contracting the fever. She, however, persisted, and entering the tent, beheld a man in apparently a state of collapse. For days, it would seem, he had received very little attention, and the filth of the bed and floor was indescribable. That day the poor patient had had nothing but a drink of water. The Sister at once prepared and gave him a bowl of stimulating broth. He became sufficiently strong to tell her he was from St. Paul’s Parish, Philadelphia. The priest, Rev. Father Maher, of Harrisburg, was sent for. In the meantime, by dint of warnings and entreaties, the Sister got two of the male nurses to lift the man from the bed, to which parts of his body adhered. The floor was cleansed, the man washed, his sores attended to, and then the priest came, heard his confession and gave him the last Sacraments, and immediately his recovery seemed to set in. His gratitude was touching in the extreme. The Sisters had word sent to his wife in Philadelphia that she might be able to have him removed home, but before she came they themselves had been recalled from what to them was a blessed field of labor.

On June 9, 1862, Dr. Smith wrote to Mother St. John, saying: “The United States have agreed to take chargeof all the State hospitals. * * * I have requested the Sisters at Harrisburg to return to you and hope I shall not have again to trouble you until the war is ended. The Sisters did great good, were very kind and useful. All will be acknowledged in due time.” Several of the Sisters who attended the soldiers have already entered on their reward, and rest in the beautiful cemetery of Mt. St. Joseph, where on Decoration Day the Sisters and children love to pay special attention to the graves of those departed ones “of the Soldiers of Christ who went out to attend on the soldiers of war.”

No words could adequately express the gratitude of the Sisters for the delicate and fatherly attentions they received from Surgeon-General Smith and his corps of assistants. Dr. Smith was truly “one of Nature’s noblemen,” with a soul free from every taint of prejudice, with a heart open to every phase of human suffering and a charity that never wearied in alleviating the horrors of war.21

The heroic life and labors of Mother Angela. A cousin of the late James G. Blaine. She gives up her school at South Bend, Ind., to serve through the war. A historic meeting between Mother Angela and General Grant Rev. L. A. Lambert, the chaplain at Mound City. Sixty Sisters of the Holy Cross on duty. Sister Angela, of the Visitation Community, and her love for the soldiers.

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