Dr. Lambert, who was to act in the capacity of chaplain, escorted Mother Angela into Grant’s presence. The great Captain was seated at a desk behind the iron bars, which had evidently been formerly used by the cashier of the bank. He was writing with the air of a man who was absorbed in his task and unconscious of his surroundings. An ordinary cheap pipe was in his mouth, and every now and then he mechanically blew forth a cloud of smoke. The characteristics of the man so well-known in later years were just as pronounced then. The people all around him were plainly agitated with the thought of the great war that was about to rage in all its fury. He sat at his work calm, silent, and with an imperturbability of countenance that was sphinx-like. Dr. Brinton, who had been one of the first to suggest the Sisters, introduced Mother Angela to Grant. The General came out from behind the iron grating with his head bare, and, taking Mother Angela’s hand, gave it a hearty shake. The pipe he had been smoking was temporarily laid aside. There was a moment’s silence, and then Grant, looking at his visitor with a pleasant smile, said:
“I am glad to have you with us, very glad.”
There was a pause for a second, and then he added:
“If there is anything at all I can do for you I will be glad to do it. I thoroughly appreciate the value of your services, and I will give orders to see that you do not want for anything.”
After a few more minutes of general conversation, in which Dr. Brinton and Father Lambert joined, Mother Angela and the Sisters started for their mission at Mound City. In later years General Grant frequently expressed profound admiration for Mother Angela, not only as a nurse, but as a woman of unusual ability.
Grant about this period in his career was one of the most interesting characters of the war. It is curious to note the various estimates of his character. The following extract from a letter written from the “front” during the closing months of the war furnishes a striking pen picture of the man:
“In his manners, dress and style of living Grant displays more republican simplicity than any other general officer in the army. In manner he is very unassuming and approachable, and his conversation is noticeable from its unpretending, plain and straightforward style. There is nothing didactic nor pedantic in his tone or language. His rhetoric is more remarkable for the compact structure than the elegance and finish of his sentences. He talks practically, and writes as he talks, and his language, written and oral, is distinguished by strong common sense.
“He seldom indulges in figurative language; but when he does his comparisons betray his habits of close observation. He dresses in a careless, but by no means slovenly manner. Though his uniform conforms to army regulations in cut and trimmings, it is often like that of Sherman—worn threadbare. He never wears any article which attracts attention by its oddity, except, indeed, the three stars which indicate his rank. His wardrobe when campaigning is generally very scant, while his headquarters train is often the smallest in the army. For several months past he has been living in a log hut of unpretending dimensions on the James River, sleeping on a common camp-cot, and eating at a table common to all his staff, plainly furnished with good roast beef, pork and beans, ‘hard-tack’ and coffee.
“It is related of the General that when the march to the rear of Vicksburg began he announced to his army the necessity of ‘moving light,’ i. e., without extra baggage. He set an example by sending to the rear all his baggage except a green briar-root pipe, a tooth-brush and a horn pocket-comb. The story of his appearance in the Senate chamber in February last is still fresh in the minds of the public. He had no sooner left the hall after paying his respects to the Senators than one of the Democratic members rose and asked the consideration of the Senate upon what he termed the evident and gross mistake which had been made in appointing Grant a Lieutenant General, and declared it to be his opinion that ‘there was not a second lieutenant of the Home Guard of his State who did not “cut a bigger swell” than this man who had just left their presence.’”
Mother Angela’s party after leaving General Grant had quite an experience in reaching their destination. The wagon which had been detailed as their conveyance broke down when they were half way thither, and there was some difficulty in patching it up sufficiently to finish the journey. But it was done, and the Sisters eventually reached Mound City, and began their work of mercy in the hospital located there. Sister Ferdinand was a fellow laborer with Mother Angela at this time. Father Lambert, the chaplain, attended the Post Hospital at Mound City and said Mass at 4 o’clock in the morning for the benefit of Mother Angela and her Sisters.
There was one incident that was kept quiet and which did not become generally known until after the war. Small-pox was raging at the time, and one of the brave Sisters was stricken down. She was hastily stowed away in a garret of the hospital building and a special guard placed over her. She recovered, and after that devoted herself to nursing others with even more zeal than she had shown before she was stricken down. Ordinarily small-pox cases were sent to the pest house, but in this instance the tenderness of the Sisters would not permit them to part with their afflicted colleague. It was against the rules, to be sure, but who can blame the Sisters for this merciful breach of discipline? It is only proper to state that the case was so isolated that not one of the twelve hundred patients was affected even in the remotest degree. One who was in the hospital at this time says that he is not certain but that the Surgeon General knew of the hidden case.
There were between 1200 and 1400 patients in the hospital, and all received the kindest care and attention. Mother Angela served through all the war, winning extraordinary distinction for tact, diplomacy and faithfulness.