NON-CATHOLIC TRIBUTES.
Comment of Mary A. Livermore upon the work of Mother Angela at
Mound City: “The world has known no nobler and more heroic women
than those found in the ranks of the Catholic Sisterhoods.” A
famous scout gives his impressions of the Sisters. Susan D.
Messinger tells of the work of the Sisters at New Berne, N. C.
[Illustration]
No tributes that have been paid to the work of the Catholic Sisterhoods
during the war have been more cordial or more emphatic than those coming
from non-Catholic sources. It is a significant fact that those most
prejudiced against the Sisters have been persons who knew the least
about them, while the warmest friends of the dark-robed messengers of
charity and peace have been persons who came in contact with them and
their labors for humanity.
Mary A. Livermore, whose personal services during the war were by no
means inconsiderable, is one non-Catholic writer who does not hesitate
to give the Catholic Sister full credit for what she did. Miss Livermore
says the Mound City Hospital, in charge of the Sisters of the Holy
Cross, was considered the best military hospital in the United States.
She writes:[25]
“There was one general hospital in Cairo, called by the people ‘the
Brick Hospital.’ Here the Sisters of the Holy Cross were employed as
nurses, one or more to each ward. Here were order, cleanliness and good
nursing. The food was cooked in a kitchen outside of the hospital.
Surgeons were detailed to every ward and visited their patients twice a
day, and oftener if necessary. The apothecaries’ room was supplied with
an ample store of medicines and surgical appliances, and the store-rooms
possessed an abundance of clothing and delicacies for the sick.”
The work done at Mound City is thus graphically set forth: “Except in
Mound City everything was in a chaotic condition compared with the
complete arrangement afterwards. The hospital at Mound City occupied a
block of brick stores, built before the war to accommodate the
prospective commerce of the war. They had not been occupied, and as the
blockade of the Mississippi rendered it uncertain when they would be
needed for their legitimate use, they were turned over to the medical
department for hospital use. At the time of my visit the Mound City
hospital was considered the best military hospital in the United States.
This was due to the administrative talent of Dr. E. S. Franklin, of
Dubuque, Ia., who, despite poverty of means and material, transformed
the rough block of stores into a superb hospital, accommodating 1000
patients. Fifteen hundred had been crowded in it by dint of close
packing.
“The most thorough system was maintained in every department. There was
an exact time and place for everything. Every person was assigned to a
particular work and held responsible for its performance. If anyone
proved a shirk, incompetent or insubordinate, he was sent off in the
next boat. A Shaker-like cleanliness and sweetness of atmosphere
pervaded the various wards; the sheets and pillows were of immaculate
whiteness and the patients who were convalescent were cheerful and
contented. The Sisters of the Holy Cross were employed as nurses, and by
their skill, quietness, gentleness and tenderness were invaluable in the
sick wards. Every patient gave hearty testimony to the skill and
kindness of the Sisters.
“Mother Angela was the Superior of the Sisters--a gifted lady of rare
cultivation and executive ability with winning sweetness of manner. She
was a member of the Ewing family and a cousin of Mr. and Mrs. General
Sherman. The Sisters had nearly broken up their famous schools at South
Bend to answer the demand for nurses. If I had ever felt prejudiced
against these Sisters as nurses, my experience with them during the war
would have dissipated it entirely. The world has known no nobler and
more heroic women than those found in the ranks of the Catholic
Sisterhoods.”
Captain “Jack” Crawford, who became famous as a scout in the Union army,
in the course of a lecture delivered after the war speaks of the Sisters
as follows:
“On all God’s green and beautiful earth there are no purer, no nobler,
no more kind-hearted and self-sacrificing women than those who wear the
sombre garb of Catholic Sisters. During the war I had many opportunities
for observing their noble and heroic work, not only in the camp and
hospital, but on the death-swept field of battle. Right in the fiery
front of dreadful war, where bullets hissed in maddening glee, and shot
and shell flew madly by with demoniac shrieks, where dead and mangled
forms lay with pale, blood-flecked faces, yet wear the scowl of battle,
I have seen the black-robed Sisters moving over the field, their
solicitous faces wet with the tears of sympathy, administering to the
wants of the wounded and whispering words of comfort into the ears soon
to be deafened by the cold, implacable hand of death. Now kneeling on
the blood-bespattered sod to moisten with water the bloodless lips on
which the icy kiss of the death angel has left its pale imprint; now
breathing words of hope of an immortality beyond the grave into the ear
of some mangled hero, whose last shots in our glorious cause had been
fired but a moment before; now holding the crucifix to receive the last
kiss from somebody’s darling boy, from whose breast the life blood was
splashing and who had offered his life as a willing sacrifice on the
altar of his country; now with tender touch and tear-dimmed eye binding
gaping wounds, from which most women must have shrunk in horror; now
scraping together a pillow of forest leaves, upon which some pain-racked
head might rest until the spirit took its flight to other realms--brave,
fearless of danger, trusting implicitly in the Master whose
overshadowing eye was noting their every movement; standing as
shielding, prayerful angels between the dying soldiers and the horrors
of death. Their only recompense the sweet, soul-soothing consciousness
that they were doing their duty; their only hope of reward that peace
and eternal happiness which awaited them beyond the star-emblazoned
battlements above. Oh! my friends, it was a noble work.
“How many a veteran of the war, who wore the Blue or the Gray, can yet
recall the soothing touch of a Sister’s hand as he lay upon the
pain-tossed couch of a hospital! Can we ever forget their
sympathetic-eyes, their low, soft-spoken words of encouragement and
cheer when the result of the struggle between life and death yet hung in
the balance? Oh! how often have I followed the form of that good Sister
Valencia with my sunken eyes as she moved away from my cot to the cot of
another sufferer and have breathed from the most sacred depths of my
faintly-beating heart the fervent prayer: ‘God bless her! God bless
her!’
“My friends, I am not a Catholic, but I stand ready at any and all times
to defend these noble women, even with my life, for I owe that life to
them.”
Miss Susan D. Messinger, of Roxbury, Mass., writes the following
eloquent letter to the author:
“It is with real pleasure I pay my tribute to that noble band of Sisters
of Mercy, who did such a Christian work of love and helpfulness for our
suffering soldier boys in New Berne, N. C. My brother, Captain
(afterwards Colonel) Messinger, was on the staff of Major General John
G. Foster, Eighteenth Army Corps, stationed at New Berne, N. C. After
the taking of New Berne my brother was made Provost Marshal and given
quarters near the general at the request of Mrs. Foster, my sister. Mrs.
Messinger and I were sent for to stay a few weeks, although in no
official capacity. No woman could be in the army without finding much
she could do to relieve and comfort, and especially through the home our
little quarters became to all, from major generals to privates. We could
not go home. We stayed until summer. I write all this personal matter
to show how I was thrown into the companionship of these Catholic
Sisters. Although my brother and myself were Unitarians we became close,
congenial friends with these brave women, who had to seek constantly
advice and help from my brother on account of his position as Provost
Marshal.
“General Foster was a Catholic and brought to New Berne six Sisters from
the Convent of Mercy, in New York, to take charge of a hospital in New
Berne for special cases. He took for their convent a house which had
been General Burnsides’ headquarters, and which also, during the war of
the Revolution, had been occupied by Washington, his room and writing
table sacredly preserved. This house communicated by a plank walk with
another house, or houses, used as hospitals, and only over that plank
walk did those devoted women ever take any exercise or recreation. They
literally gave themselves as nurses to the poor, wounded, maimed and
sick soldiers brought to them day after day. And most beautifully did
they fulfill the charge. Many a soldier will never forget their tender,
unselfish care and devotion. I was witness myself to much of it, as I
was privileged to go from ward to ward. Many a dying man blessed them as
angels of mercy, almost looking upon them as sent from the other world.
“One dear young fellow, who was almost reverenced by doctors and nurses
for his patience and fortitude (young George Brooks, brother to the late
Bishop Philipps Brooks), looked up into the sweet face of Mother
Augustine, as she bent over to minister or to soothe the dear boy, with:
‘Mother, thank you, Mother,’ and with such an ineffable smile of peace.
We could never tell if in his delirium he thought it was his own mother,
but the peace on the boy’s face showed what his nurse had been to
him. His sickness was short and death came just before the father
reached New Berne.
[Illustration: FARRAGUT IN THE RIGGING.]
“One dear young friend of mine, Sergeant Charles Hinkling, was sick
under their care many weeks; finally brought home to linger and die; but
he and his family were most deeply grateful to the kind Sisters for the
tender care bestowed upon him in their hospital, especially by Sister
Gertrude.
“Sister Mary Gertrude is now the Mother Superior of an institution in
California, after a life of hard work among the poor and suffering. I
think she is perhaps the only one living of those dear women I knew in
New Berne.
“It was through the winter of 1862-63 that the Sisters were in New
Berne. The next year the headquarters were removed to Fortress Monroe
and the Sisters returned to New York.
“Through these thirty years or more--my brother and many, many more who
could have borne evidence to the faithful work of the Sisters of Mercy
in New Berne--have answered the roll call to the Home above. But those
days stand out in my memory as clearly as if yesterday, with all the
pain, anxiety, hope, fear and faith, and no scenes are more real to me
than those hours with those devoted women who were helping God’s
children so wisely, so gently, with no thought of reward or glory! God
bless their memories to us all.”
General David McMurtrie Gregg ranks as one of the most distinguished
cavalry officers that served in the Union Army. No man on either side
had a more brilliant record for discretion in camp and bravery in
battle. He graduated at West Point, and after meritorious service in
the regular army in New Mexico, California, Oregon and Washington
Territory he became colonel of the Eighth Pennsylvania Volunteer
Cavalry. He served with his regiment during the entire Peninsular
campaign of 1862, and in November of that year he became brigadier
general of volunteers. He was placed in command of a division of cavalry
on the battlefield of Fredericksburg and served as its commander in the
Stoneman’s raid, in the campaigns of Gettysburg, Mine Run, the
Wilderness and in front of Petersburg. He commanded the cavalry of the
Army of the Potomac from August, 1864, until his resignation from the
army, in February, 1865. He was breveted major general United States
volunteers, August 1, 1864. General Gregg has occupied many positions of
distinction in civil life.
The writer of this volume recently communicated with General Gregg
regarding his experiences with the Catholic Sisterhoods in the war, and
received the following very interesting reply:
“My Dear Sir: I am in receipt of your letter of the 8th instant,
inclosing an article taking from a newspaper published in 1866,
and in which the name ‘General Gregg’ is mentioned. The person
referred to was my cousin, General John I. Gregg, who commanded
one of my brigades.
“I do not recall that at any time in the field I was brought in
contact with representatives of any of the Catholic Sisterhoods,
yet the mere mention of the matter makes me reminiscent, and
whilst my experience with a representative of a Sisterhood was
purely personal, it was so pleasant and profitable to me that I
cannot refrain from mentioning it. In the summer of 1861 I was
made a captain in the Sixth Regular Cavalry, and was ordered East
from Oregon, where for several years I had been serving as a
lieutenant in the First Dragoons. In crossing the Isthmus of
Panama I contracted the low fever of that region.
“In September I joined the Sixth at Bladensburg, near Washington,
and after a short time I was prostrated by this fever. Just at
this time the regiment was ordered away, and I was left in the
camp seriously ill. Stretched on the bottom of an ambulance I was
hauled over a rough road to Washington and placed in a bed in the
old Kirkwood House in a state of delirium. A few hours after Major
Ingalls, who subsequently became Quarter Master General, a warm
personal friend, heard of my condition, and with another friend
came to the hotel with a carriage, and I was taken to the E Street
Infirmary, which was in charge of a surgeon of the regular army.
At the entrance of the infirmary stood the doctor, and at his side
an elderly Sister of Charity.
“I was carried in and placed in a large room next to the
surgeon’s, and was at once put into a clean, comfortable bed. The
good Sister, who had some superior rank, saw that I was made
comfortable, and, it is needless to say, that after what I had
gone through, I felt as though I were in heaven. Then followed
weeks of severe illness with typhoid fever. I had the attendance
of my own man, and had many visits each day from doctors, stewards
and their assistants, but the real nursing was done by another
Sister of Charity, Sister Margaret.
“I have never forgotten her gentleness and cheerfulness. She was
simply the highest type of a Christian woman. Her good nursing
continued for weeks, and I was kept alive only to go through
another trying experience, for an a cold and rainy night early in
November, and nearly midnight, this infirmary took fire and was
entirely destroyed. How I escaped has nothing to do with this
narrative, but to my exceeding regret I never again saw Sister
Margaret.
“But I have never forgotten her, and when in the street I meet one
of the Sisterhood to which she belonged there is in my heart a
feeling of respect and gratitude to those self-denying and devoted
women who are spending their lives in doing good to their
fellow-beings.
“I have written more than I intended, but I love to talk about the
good Sister Margaret, and it is not surprising that if, as now, I
am inclined to write about her, I allow my pen to run away a
little.
“Sincerely yours,
“D. McM. GREGG.
“Reading, Pa., Jan. 11, 1898.”
The South Bend Tribune, shortly after the return of the Sisters of the
Holy Cross to their convent homes, printed the following:
“When in September, 1861, General Lew Wallace, commanding the Federal
forces in Southern Kentucky, applied to St. Mary’s for nurses, Mother
Angela, with five other Sisters, hastened to the relief of the suffering
soldiers at the camp in Paducah. And before the opening of the year 1862
seventy-five Sisters were sent from St. Mary’s, and her branch houses,
to the military hospitals at Louisville, Paducah, Cairo, Mound City,
Memphis and Washington.
“Of this number, two died from fever, caught in the discharge of their
duties. When the Western flotilla of gunboats opened the Mississippi
River Commodore Davis asked and obtained the services of seven Sisters
of the Holy Cross to take charge of the floating hospital, in which
hundreds of lives were saved. These deeds were not done for the world’s
praise; they were the duties to which the lives of the Sisters of the
Holy Cross are devoted, whenever suffering humanity requires their help.
A memorial of those days now rests in St. Mary’s grounds, in the shape
of two immense shattered cannon, captured at Island No. 10, and
presented to Mother Angela by the commander of the flotilla. These
cannon are destined to be moulded into a statue of ‘Our Lady of Peace,’
and will remain in St. Mary’s grounds as an historical monument of the
dark days of our civil war.”
A correspondent of the (Protestant) Church Journal, writing from New
Orleans in 1862, highly compliments the Sisters of Charity in that city
for the amount of good they are unostentatiously doing, saying among
other things:
“One misses here a church hospital. Many of our Federal officers and men
are cared for when sick in the Roman Catholic institutions, the Hotel
Dieu and the Charity Hospital. The Sisters attend most winningly on
their patients and force them to confess on recovering that their own
mothers and sisters at home could not have done better for them. On
leaving the patient carries away in his hand some Roman Catholic book of
prayer, or controversy, or instruction, and in his heart a grateful
remembrance of the fair donor, a resolution to peruse the book, and a
profound conviction that the Roman Catholic Church, with all its faults,
certainly has a soul of true Christian love. Surely the time will come
when all churchmen will acknowledge the angelic influence of Christian
Sisterhoods in the natural connections between curing the body and
renovating the soul, the imperative necessity of organizing Christian
and accomplished nurses and placing them in institutions where their
love and skill can do the highest possible service.”
The Charleston Mercury, during the siege of that city, said:
“There is probably no one in this city whose eyes have not followed with
interest the quiet and modest figure of some Sister of Mercy as she
passed upon her rounds. It is in this gentle impersonation of Christian
benevolence and to her associates that our sick and wounded soldiers owe
the tenderest of those ministrations which are better than medicine in
their effect upon the languishing invalid. Nor is the large kindness of
these ladies solely displayed in the personal cares which they bestow
upon the sufferer. They give generously from their stores at the same
time, and many a want is thus supplied which might otherwise have been
left ungratified. Since the beginning of the siege of our city their
presence has diffused its blessings in every hospital, and their
unwearied attentions to the soldiers have done incalculable good.”
In the closing year of the war Rev. George W. Pepper, a Methodist
clergyman, in a sermon preached by him in the Methodist Episcopal
Church, White Eyes, Coshocton County, Ohio, eulogized these heroic
ladies as follows:
“The war has brought out one result--it has shown that numbers of the
weaker sex, though born to wealth and luxury, are ready to renounce
every comfort and brave every hardship, that they may minister to the
suffering, tend the wounded in their agony, and soothe the last
struggles of the dying. God bless the Sisters of Charity in their heroic
mission! I had almost said their heroic martyrdom! And I might have said
it, for I do think that in walking those long lines of sick beds, in
giving themselves to all the ghastly duties of the hospital, they are
doing a harder thing than was allotted to many who mounted the scaffold
or dared the stake.”
“Mack,” a correspondent of the Ohio State Journal, writing from
Murfreesboro, under date of January 4, 1863, about hospital scenes,
which he describes as heartrending, thus speaks of the kind offices and
invaluable services of the Sisters of Charity:
“It is now a pleasure to turn from this dark and dismal description of
the majority of our hospitals to an oasis--a something that is in
reality bright and cheering. There is a sect called Roman Catholics--a
sect that, in my younger days, I was taught to look upon as monsters,
capable of any crime in the calendar of human frailties--who have
hospitals in their own charge attended by Sisters of Charity. They
should be called ‘angels,’ who know what true, disinterested humanity
is. I have visited them, therefore I speak of what I know. Everything in
and about them is clean and comfortable; scarcely a death takes place
within their portals. If a soldier is dangerously sick you will see by
the side of his clean and tidy cot one of these heaven-born ‘angels’ (we
call them nothing else), ministering to his every want with the tender
care of a mother or sister. They glide noiselessly from cot to cot
cheering the despondent and speaking words of kindness to all. No one
who has the heart of a man can help loving them with a holy sisterly
love. There is not a soldier in Richmond but would beg, if it was
possible, that when wounded or sick he should to be taken to such an
hospital, and for myself, sooner than be taken to any other, I would
rather die by the wayside with God’s canopy my only covering. Would to
God there were more of them!”
The following account of a presentation to a Sister of Charity is from
the Cleveland Herald of November 13, 1865:
“One of the most pleasant presentation affairs we remember to have
attended took place at Charity Hospital yesterday, at 11 o’clock. After
Professor Weber, Dr. Scott and the students had been seated the Lady
Superior was invited into the room and presented with a beautiful
engraving, one of the proof-sheets copied from the painting of Constant
Mayor, entitled ‘Consolation,’ by Captain Samuel Whiting. Mr. Whiting,
in presenting the engraving, said:
“‘Sister Superior, some years ago, while in command of one of the New
Orleans steamships, I was prostrated at that port with a severe attack
of yellow fever, and though I had many friends there, had it not been
for the tender care and skillful nursing of the Sisters of Charity, I
have no idea that I should have survived the attack.
“‘During our late fearful and bloody war the devotion of your noble
order to the cause of humanity has won the admiration of the world, and
entirely obliterated the illiberal prejudices of the most bigoted
opponents of your sect. Certainly, no soldier of the Crimean army will
ever ignore the kind care and gentle nursing of the Sisters of
Charity.’”
Each hospital throughout our land could count them by the score
Whose deeds have doubly sanctified our long and bloody war,
And many a home-returning brave will long delight to tell
Of her, the gentle minister, who tended him so well.
The mother calls a blessing down on her who nursed her son,
And thanks of wounded heroes brave how well her work was done.
True womanhood has ever prov’d self-sacrificing, brave--
Last at the dear Redeemer’s Cross and earliest at His grave.
“The citizens of Cleveland may well be congratulated on the possession
of this noble Institution. The rare skill of its eminent and
accomplished surgeons, the sound teaching of its learned pathologist,
combined with the tender nursing of your good and benevolent Sisterhood,
will relieve many of the ills that flesh is heir to, and restore to many
a grateful sufferer the God-given priceless boon of health.
“As a small token of grateful recollections to my nurses at New Orleans,
I beg to present to the Sisters of Charity Hospital this engraving, one
of the proof-sheets, copied from the beautiful painting of Constant
Mayer, entitled ‘Consolation,’ and with it the following poem, which I
take pleasure in writing for them, descriptive of the scene so admirably
portrayed by the accomplished artist:
A Union soldier in his tent,
Weak, wounded and despairing lay;
The hectic flushes came and went,
As rose the din of battle fray.
The Army of the Cumberland
Saw him with eager, flashing eye
In its front rank undaunted stand,
Resolved to conquer or to die.
Firm and unflinching thus he stood,
While cannon belched through blood-red flames;
His chiefest thought his country’s good,
And next perchance a deathless name.
Sudden as lightning’s vivid glare
Shrilly shell burst above his head;
A fragment laid his bosom bare
And stretched him wounded with the dead.
Back to the rear the soldiers bore
The wounded comrade, faint and weak;
His “army blue” was stained with gore,
And death’s pale seal was on his cheek.
A surgeon dressed the ghastly wound
And counseled quiet and repose,
Then sought again the battleground,
Now thickly strewn with friends and foes.
Left to himself the wounded man
Bethought him of his early life,
Each wayward act and vicious plan,
Each worldly and unholy strife.
And as he weaker grew he thought
Of his dear home, far, far away;
What would he give--could it be bought--
For power to be there but a day.
To close his dying eyes where first
His infant lips had learned to pray,
To kiss the mother who had nursed
The sister who had shared his play.
He murmured: “Oh, for one sweet tone
Of voices loved in days gone by!
Dear mother, sister, oh, for one
To gently close my dying eye.”
He ceased; a face of radiant light
Was in his tent and by his side;
Each feature beautified and bright,
Free from all trace of human pride.
She points him to a heavenly home,
A house of joy not made with hands--
To the Redeemer calling, “Come!”
Who at the portal beckoning stands.
Then she unclasped the book of prayer,
Its oft turned leaves were soiled and worn,
For she had made her constant care
Our wounded soldiers night and morn.
From those dim pages she essayed
To whisper to the wounded, “Peace!”
Her gentle tones his fears allayed
And bade his soul despairing cease.
“Sister of Charity!” he cried,
“Sister and mother both thou art;
For here by my poor pallet side,
Thou’rt one with them in hand and heart.”
“Oh, hear me, and, though poor and weak,
If I survive I’ll hold her dear,
Who gently bathed my fevered cheek
And brought me consolation here.”
“It now remains for me only to tender you this humble testimonial of my
regard and my hearty wishes for the fullest prosperity of the Charity
Hospital and College, for the temporal and eternal welfare of the
Sisterhood of the first, and the continued health and usefulness of the
eminent faculty of the last.”
The remarks of Captain Whiting met with a hearty response from Dr.
Scott, in behalf of the Lady Superior, in acceptance of the picture.
The Memphis Appeal, in its issue of February 17, 1866, thus bears
testimony to the zeal and value of the Sisters of Charity in this city:
“Vincent de Paul, who has since received, so justly deserved, the title
of ‘Benefactor of Mankind,’ was the originator of that divine and
charitable society, ‘The Sisters of Charity,’ in a small town of France,
in the early part of the seventeenth century. The signal service
rendered by them during the past civil war to our sick, wounded and
dying soldiers in camp, in hospital and on the battlefield, and their
unwearied and constant ministrations to the suffering and poor of all
classes throughout the land, is the theme of praise and commendation on
the lips of all, no matter of what religious creed or faith.
“Their God-like and noble works have won respect, the most profound from
every one. In our own city the result of their exertions are to be seen
on every hand. In the cause of education their stand is pre-eminent.
With them modesty, knowledge and refinement are most carefully blended.
The young girl, after a tutelage of years under their careful
supervision, walks forth into the world, with a mind as pure and free,
and demeanor as gentle and kind, as when first these precious charges
were tendered to their keeping. And how carefully are the poor little
ones, without parents and bereft of homes, provided for by these angels
of earth!
“The asylum under their charge and guidance, situated near the Catholic
Cemetery, on the outskirts of the city, is the most complete institution
of its kind in the State. A large number of orphans are educated,
clothed and fed here the year in and out, finding compensation only in
the good they have done and the anticipation of a bright reward
hereafter, from Him ‘Who tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb,’ and
under whose ‘All-seeing Eye’ every act of charity and faith is always
recorded. Their labors in behalf of the sick are ever attended with the
most cheering results. Take a look at our city hospitals, and you will
find everything well arranged, clean and neat, and bearing the impress
most unmistakably of the goodness of their hearts and the greatness of
their works.
“The patients, one and all, express the most sincere satisfaction at
their treatment, and pray, as all good people do, that the society which
has rendered so much good to us and all mankind may be like the
foundation stone of all blessings--Truth--and with it ever bear the
stamp of immortality.”