An application from the Secretary of War to the Superior of the order. Nine Sisters depart for the Government Hospital at Beaufort, N. C. A dinner of pork and beans and mouldy bread. The steward who expected the Sisters to poison some of the patients. Complimented by Jefferson Davis. A convent confiscated by General Slocum. Secular ladies who had “other engagements” when the smallpox appeared.
None of the Sisters who gave up their time and talents to the cause of suffering humanity did better work than the Sisters of Mercy. Their most conspicuous service was on Southern battlefields, although, like their colleagues in this merciful work, they were subject to the call of duty no matter whence it came. On the 19th of June, 1862, Vicar General Starrs, of New York, applied for a sufficient corps of nurses to take charge of a military hospital in North Carolina. The proposition was laid before the Sisters of St. Catherine’s Convent of Mercy, in New York City, and the invitation promptly and cheerfully accepted.
Nine Sisters were selected for the mission. They included Sisters Mary Augustine MacKenna, M. Elizabeth Callanan, M. Paul Lennon, M. Gertrude Ledwith, M. Paula 212 Harris, M. Veronica Dimond and M. Agatha MacCarthy. The Mother Superior and Mother Alphonsus decided to go with the party. The chaplain was Rev. Father Bruhl, a native of Hungary, sixty years of age. He had a long, flowing grey beard, and while he was not possessed of an adequate knowledge of English, he was equipped with a valuable experience of hospital work incident to warfare. This was derived from long and laborious service in the French army during the war which resulted in the taking of Algiers.
The Sisters bade adieu to their convent friends on the 15th of July, and boarded the Government boat Catawaba, which was to take them to the scene of their future labors at Beaufort, N. C. The Sisters were under the care of General Foster, who showed them every consideration.
It happened that 500 horses, destined for cavalry service, were to be passengers on the vessel, and as the tedious and somewhat distressing process of getting them into the hold only commenced after the Sisters boarded the boat the Catawaba could not leave the dock until the afternoon of July 16.
A non-Catholic officer writing from Beaufort at this time says:
“The Hammond General Hospital, at Beaufort, N. C., is eligibly located on the bay, the tide rising and falling entirely around the main building. It is under the care of the Sisters of Mercy, whose earnest devotedness to the noble task they have assumed is manifested in the cleanly condition of the place and the comfort and contentment displayed by all the patients. One kitchen, a perfect ‘bijou’ of a kitchen, is devoted to the use of the Sisters, where they prepare every kind of delicacy which the 213 condition of the sick require, in such a manner as those good Sisters only can prepare such things. The prejudice which exists in some illiberal-minded persons toward Catholics would be very speedily and effectually dispelled could they witness, as we have, these worthy ladies modestly but earnestly pursuing their vocation among the sick and wounded, with no hope of reward until He, whose divine example they imitate, shall say: ‘I was weary and ye ministered unto me.’ Long may Sister Mary Madeline, the Superior, and her amiable Sisters be spared to pursue their work of faith and love among us. Our soldiers feel truly grateful to Mrs. Foster, the accomplished wife of our Major General, for her consideration in bringing the Sisters here.”
SISTERS OF SATTERLEE HOSPITAL.
The structure which was known as the “hospital” is thus admirably described by Mother Mary Carroll: “It was a large building that had formerly been a summer hotel. It was so near the shore that at high tide the waves rolled in and out under the timber props on which it was erected. It was a frame building, containing 500 rooms. The Sisters arrived in the midst of a heavy rain storm. As they passed from the wharf to the building, in single file, all dressed in black, the patients, looking out of the windows, took them for nine lone widows, seeking the dead bodies of their husbands!
“The place contained no furniture except a few miserable bedsteads, and was in a most desolate condition. There was only one broom and very few utensils. The broom, in possession of Chloe, a saucy little negress, was seldom available. Along the shore were wrecks of pianos, tables, chairs, glass, etc. There were no candles or lamps, and every one was compelled to retire before night.” 214
Truly, a forsaken habitation for women, the most of whom had been brought up in homes of comfort and refinement. The house was extremely dirty, and the Sisters got very little rest the first night. The next day a transformation took place. The new-comers, with what assistance they could obtain from the natives, began the work of housecleaning. “Bob” Sproul, a young negro, who was presented with a red shirt, was installed as water carrier. He was so delighted with the conspicuous but useful garment that he wore it outside of his Sunday coat and proclaimed himself “the best-dressed man in North Carolina.”
The first dinner of the Sisters was a “sumptuous repast” of pork and beans and mouldy bread, to which was added coffee sweetened with molasses. Eight rooms were assigned to the nurses. These rooms were located on the second story, and opened out on a piazza overlooking the sound. In spite of the great consideration shown the Sisters, they were compelled to undergo many privations. Two of the Sisters, whose names are not recorded, died from the effects of these hardships, and several were dangerously ill.
Nearly all the patients differed from the Sisters in religious belief, and their coming caused several humorous as well as pathetic incidents. Many of the soldiers had never met “a real, live” Sister before. Their minds had been installed with false notions, and it was some days before they appreciated the Sisters in their real character and at their true worth. After the work in the locality was finished, the steward of the hospital confessed that he often sat up until 1 o’clock in the morning watching the Sisters, fully expecting them to poison the patients, or do 215 some other terrible thing, they being “confessed emissaries of the Pope.”
The dress of the Sisters scared some of the others. “Great heavens!” shrieked one patient to the nurse that bent over him, “are you a man or a woman? But your hand is a woman’s hand; its touch is soft, and your voice is gentle. What are you?”
“Only a poor servant of the Great Master, come from afar to serve you,” said the Sister.
“Sister,” moaned another, “I’m dying. I want to be what you are; help me.”
“What the Sister believes, I believe,” cried another, who had probably never known any religion. “Sister, tell me what to answer when the priest comes to baptize me.”
When the patients finally recovered sufficiently to leave the hospital they would offer little keepsakes to the Sisters—a button, a shred of blue or gray, a pebble—with a fervent “God bless you, Sister. I’ll never forget you. Pray for me.”
The Sisters became part of the patients’ lives. They did more than nurse them. They cheered them in their hours of despondency, and wrote letters for them to the anxious ones at home. Some of the Sisters, by reason of ill health, were compelled to return to New York. Their places were promptly filled with recruits from the Mother House.
The perfect discipline among the Sisters, the spirit of humility and self-sacrifice that prevailed generally, was exhibited when the Mother Superior in charge was succeeded by Mother M. Augustine McKenna. Mother Augustine was one of the women who had previously prepared food for the soldiers. The patients and others were 216 surprised to learn, after the change, that she was not only a person of great executive ability, but that she was also a woman of the utmost refinement, and one of the most intellectual members of the Sisterhood.
In October, 1862, it was found that Beaufort was too much exposed for the patients, and they were removed to Newberne. The residence of Governor Stanley was placed at the disposal of the Sisters. It was transformed into a handsome convent, the parlor being used as a chapel. After the raids at Goldsboro all of the wards were crowded with sick and wounded. Americans, Germans, Irish and Creoles, all came in the same ambulances, with their clothing matted to the skin from ghastly wounds. They were all treated alike by the nurses, who were working in the cause of humanity.
Some time after the war Jefferson Da............