Father Smith was summoned and hastily prepared the man for death. The thought of having the Sisters near him seemed to fill the poor man with joy and gave him the confidence and courage to die with a smile upon his lips.
Two wounded Protestant ministers lay among the wounded soldiers, and with one of these Father Smith spoke for a long time while preparing the man for his end. The steward, who seemed delighted to see the Sisters, informed them that he had met members of their order during the Crimean War.
A Northern steward and a Southern surgeon became involved in a personal dispute, which ended by one challenging the other to meet him in mortal combat in a retired spot near the battlefield. Both withdrew towards an old shed, at the same time talking in a loud voice, threatening each other in angry tones. No one interfered and the duel would have taken place had not one of the Sisters followed them. She spoke to both of them firmly and reproachfully, taking their pistols from them, and the affair ended by their separating like docile children, each retiring to his post.
Nightfall drove the Sisters to their lodgings in the town, but they returned early in the morning. The medical director met the Sisters, saying: “You dine with me to-day,” and added: “If you will remain I shall make arrangements for your accommodations.” But he was ordered elsewhere a few hours later and the Sisters saw no more of him.
The Sisters were requested by one of the officers to attend the funeral of the brave flag-bearer. It was about dusk and eight or ten persons followed the body to the grave, besides Rev. Father Smith and the Sisters. Presently they saw about two hundred soldiers on horseback galloping towards them. A few of the horsemen approached the group of mourners and taking off their caps and bowing one of them said:
“I am General McClellan and I am happy and proud to see the Sisters of Charity with these poor men. How many are here?”
“Two,” was the reply. “We came here to bring relief to the suffering, and we return in a day or so.”
“Oh,” he replied, “why can we not have more here? I would like to see fifty Sisters ministering to the poor sufferers. Whom shall I address for this purpose?”
Father Smith gave him the address of the Superior Emmitsburg. Then he asked:
“Do you know how the brave standard-bearer is doing?”