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.

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 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 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.”