LABORS IN THE WEST.
The Sisters of Mercy attend the sick and wounded in the “Irish
Brigade,” the command organized by Colonel Mulligan, whose life
was sacrificed in the Union cause. Sisters leave Chicago for
Lexington, Mo. One brave, religious Sister who wanted to finish
her office before being shot. General Fremont and his staff call
upon the Sisters. Taking charge of the hospital department of the
steamship Express.
[Illustration: 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 in the 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 the rumors 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 the right 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 respect from 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 it she 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 Colonel Mulligan 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 danger
have 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.”
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
passed[19].
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 their sick 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 ordered to 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 made a 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.”