STORY OF URSULINE.
The Ursuline Convent and Academy, in charge of the Sisters of St. Angeli, proved a haven of refuge for nearly 1000 homeless and storm-driven unfortunates. The stories of this one night within the convent walls read like the wildest dream of a novelist, but the half can never be told. Every man, woman and child who was brought to the convent or drifted there on the raging torrent could tell of an experience that would be well worth its publication.
The convent, with its many associate buildings, cottages, etc., occupies four blocks of ground extending from Avenues N to O, and Rosenberg avenue to Twenty-seventh street. The grounds are, or rather were, surrounded by a ten-foot brick wall that has withstood the severest storms in Galveston’s history up to the destructive hurricane that swept the island last Saturday night. This wall is now a crumbled mass of brick with the exception of a few small portions that stand like marking pillars to show where the property line should be.
No one was refused admittance to the sheltering institution on this night of nights. Negroes and whites were taken in without question, and the asylum thrown open to all who sought its protecting wings. Angels of mercy went through the army of sufferers whispering words of cheer, offering what scant clothing could be found in this house of charity and calmly admonishing the terror-stricken creatures to have faith in God and say that His holy will be done.
In contrast with this quiet, saintly and loving spirit of the nuns, the hundred or more negroes grew wild as the storm raged, and shouted and sang in their camp-meeting style until the nerves of the other refugees were shattered and a panic seemed imminent. It was then that Mother Superioress Joseph rang the chapel bell and caused a hush of the pandemonium. When quiet had been restored the Mother addressed the negroes and told them that it was no time nor place for such scenes; that if they wanted to pray they should do so from their hearts, and that the creator of all things would hear their offerings above the roar of the hurricane which raged with increased fury as she spoke to the awe-stricken assemblage.
A SOLEMN CEREMONY.
The negroes listened attentively, and when the saintly woman told them that all those who wished to be baptized or resign themselves to God might do so, nearly every one of them asked that the sacrament be administered.
The panic had been precipitated by the falling of the north wall or that section of the building in which the negroes had sought refuge. Order and silent prayer were brought about by this noble woman’s sweet determination and great presence of mind.
Families that had been separated by this merciless and devastating conflict of the elements were united by the cruel waters of the gulf tossing them into this haven of refuge. What scenes, what heart-bleeding pictures these unions presented as the half dead, mangled and bruised wretches were rescued and dragged from the raging waters by the more fortunate members of their own family, mourned as victims of the storm.
The academy was to have opened for the fall session on Tuesday, and forty-two boarding scholars from all parts of the State had arrived at the convent preparatory to resuming their studies on that day. The community of nuns comprises forty sisters and they, too, were there administering cheer and deeds of mercy to the sufferers, many of whom were more dead than alive when brought into the shelter. Early in the storm when people dragged themselves or swam to the convent and asked for protection an attempt was made to keep a register of the unfortunates.