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 passed[19].
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.