Thereupon the blessing followed, and the mourners filed from the church, preceded by the casket, which after being placed in the hearse, began its last journey to the mother house at Delhi, followed by eight carriages containing the Sisters and the clergy. Arrived there the soulless tenement was placed in the vault of the cemetery, to find private burial without further ceremony at the hands of the good Sisters, her friends and companions.
The following beautiful description of the funeral and interment of Sister Anthony is from the Cincinnati Tribune of December 12, 1897:
“Friday afternoon the remains of Sister Anthony were brought to the Good Samaritan Hospital, where they lay in state in the chapel, visited by hundreds of sorrowing friends. A great number of girls employed in factories near the hospital visited the chapel after working hours to pay a last tribute of respect to her who was at all times their friend and confidant in times of trouble.
It was at the earnest request of the Sisters at the hospital that the remains of Sister Anthony were brought in. They wanted to have her with them once more for the last time, amid the scenes of her noblest work, to pray beside her bier and bid a last farewell to the spirit which they all emulate.
Visitors thronged the chapel far into the night and there was little rest for the Sisters, who were up at dawn and in the chapel again, where the Rev. Father Finn, of the Society of Jesus, sang requiem mass, assisted by the St. Xavier’s choir, under the direction of Mr. Boex.
When the time came for the departure to the Cathedral a number of the friends joined in singing “Lead, Kindly Light” and “Sweet Spirit Hear My Prayer” while the body was borne from the chapel.
These two beautiful hymns were the favorites of Sister Anthony, and she would have wished that they be sung at her funeral.
In the Cathedral, the temple of the religion she loved and worked and prayed for, two veterans of the Grand Army of the Republic, bearing aloft the flags of their country draped in sombre black, stood sentinel at her bier.
There was the procession of priests and companies of Sisters of Charity instead of the rank and file of soldiery; there were embroidered robes and black habits in place of the blue and gray; there were candles instead of camp fires; there was the chime of bells and the chanting of the choir instead of the call of trumpets and beat of drums; there was the organ pealing instead of the musketry roll; there was the fragrance of incense instead of the smoke of the battlefield; there was the counting of beads instead of the binding of wounds; there was the bier and the sable pall instead of the hospital stretcher; there were the whispered prayers of 2000 people on bended knees for the repose of the soul of Sister Anthony.
The morning light streamed dimly and softly through the stained glass windows, and electric lights took the place of the stars in heaven’s blue canopy, but it was the bivouac of the dead.