Steamboat Explosion
Traveling on the Mississippi River had its own unique dangers. Consider Mother Caroline's account of her experience surviving the explosion of the steamboat Pennsylvania. What kept her going? What was the source of her courage in the years following this tragedy? Facilitator directions are available.
Mother Caroline provided accounts of her experience to the sisters in her congregation and to the Central Council of the Louis Mission Society, based in Bavaria–her main benefactors at the time. Read each of these accounts below.
Explosion account sent to sisters
Motherhouse,
Milwaukee, WI
June 17, 1858
20
My dear Sisters:
My visitation journey to New Orleans on which I set out May 28th, terminated with great afflictions. I had to take our two young Sisters, M. Patritia [Hussey] and Hyacinth [Zimmermann] with me, and our good Rev. Father [Anton Urbanek] accompanied us. We reached New Orleans with unusual speed, and on the feast of Corpus Christi at 6:00 a.m. we were at the Sisters' house. This unexpected meeting was a joyful surprise for all. I had the consolation to find the sisters all enjoying good health, excepting our dear sister Jacobina [Diener], who is not really sick, but very delicate. We have 120 orphans in our [St. Joseph] asylum there. Notwithstanding the great heat, they, too, are all well and in good spirits; but the Sisters have hard work to take care of them. The English as well as the German schools, have a great increase of attendance, for which reason, I had to hasten thither with the two above named Sisters. We stayed six days and suffered considerably from the heat; yet it was not so oppressive as we had expected.
New Orleans is threatened with an inundation. The Mississippi has been overflowing for six weeks, and many disasters have occurred, in consequence. All the sugar and cotton plantations are submerged, so that there is no hope for any harvest. The water still continues to rise, and danger threatens more and more. Let us pray that God may arrest it, for the Sisters in New Orleans are so dear to our hearts as all the rest. The poor Sisters so far away from the Motherhouse wept bitterly when we bade them adieu. Rev. Father assured them that nothing but sin could separate us.
June 9th, at 9:00 p.m. we boarded the large steamer Pennsylvania on our homeward route. I had a girl of sixteen with me, who had begged admission into our Order, and had decided to accompany me. On the steamer, I met a Sister of Charity, by name of Mary Ellen, who was traveling to her motherhouse at Emmittsburg, [Maryland]. She, too, had a young girl with her. Rev. Father found an agreeable traveling companion in a French Lazarist, De la Croix.
Our steamer, heavily loaded, made but slow headway. High water, too, may have been the cause. Our journey, however, appeared prosperous; no one apprehended any danger. Sunday morning, June 13th, feast of St. Anthony, I had just risen and dressed, when there was a tremendous crash and the bolted cabin doors burst open with great force. I went to see what happened and found there was an explosion. My first thought was of Rev. Father [Urbanek]. I turned to go to his stateroom, but no trace of it remained. Together with many others, it had been hurled into the air – yes, a third of the steamer had met this fate, and the sleeping passengers had been dashed – some alive, others dreadfully mangled – into the burning mass or seething water.
I stood aghast, for a moment, till the fire, crackling beneath my feet, warned me to make my escape. A Negro provided me with a life preserver and hastily told me how to help myself in the water. He also placed a strong rope in my hand, by means of which I could reach a life boat below. I succeeded, as did also the Sister of Charity and the two young girls with us. Our boat was, however, so near the burning steamer, that we were, by no means, secure. The raging flames threatened to devour us at every moment. I had no longer a thought for this world. Recommending myself and all the dear Sisters to the mercy of God, I awaited my death. But God in inscrutable providence, had ordained otherwise.
I was spared, reaching land in safety. The rescued passengers numbered about 160, whereas there had been nearly 500 on board. From this you see that many lost their lives, among whom, alas! our good Rev. Father appears to be included. Notwithstanding all my efforts, I could, up to this time, find no trace of him – neither among the living and wounded, nor among the dead. It was his nameday, just between five and six oíclock, when the Sisters were surely offering their prayers and Holy Communion for him.
Let us continue to pray, dear Sisters, and have prayers said for him. The prayer of innocent children is powerful with God Request prayers also of the Reverend clergy, of all our friends and well-wishers. This is a heavy visitation from God, showing us how closely we must cling together, especially now, as the Order has lost a strong support. In prayer alone – in faithful attachment, in deep humility, we shall besiege Heaven and obtain assistance. You will have three Holy Masses said, through grateful love for our Rev. Father, and offer all your Holy Communions and prayers, during a month, for the repose of his soul. It was very humiliating for me that the pious priest lost his life, and I was saved. God has shown me mercy. Return thanks with me. May God's name be praised!
I shall probably be obliged to remain in the Motherhouse for a long time, feeling assured that you will be faithful and pray for me. In this thought alone, I find consolation in my present affliction. God help us, and Mary protect us!
Mary Caroline
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Explosion account sent to Mission Society
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
May 31, 1859
23
[Excerpt from Report to the Central Council of the Louis Mission Society Regarding the Explosion on the Mississippi]
It was June 13, the feast of St. Anthony of Padua, a Sunday morning between five and six o’clock, about 60 miles from Memphis when the boiler exploded. One single bang and a third of the ship was blown to the sky! Almost 200 people lost their lives, were torn to pieces, burned, scalded, crippled or drowned. Among them – O inexplicable destiny – the two Reverend Fathers Urbanek and de la Crosse. The Sister of Charity had the consolation of seeing her Reverend Confessor still alive. Longingly, he asked for Holy Communion, which however could not be given him. Reverend Father Urbanek disappeared without a trace, God alone knows how. I searched and found nothing; everything was useless. I cannot describe my sorrow and the fearful worry that came over me. Naturally speaking it is inconceivable that I did not lose my presence of mind, even when holding on to the strong cable between fire and water, in order to save my life.
Even in the wooden boat that came quickly and which I grasped happily, life was not a certainty; the boat came too near the flaming steamer and hovered in great danger of being set on fire by the leaping sparks. Horrible were the lamentations and cries for help of those who were left on the burning ship, who still had hope to be taken by the boats, but the boats had to be pushed away by force in order to avoid being burned themselves. The cries for help were soon stilled; they had become victims of the angry elements. In the boats were 68 passengers, who – except for the Sister of Charity, the two girls and I – were agnostics. They called on no God in their distress, but desperately looked to heaven and swore against their Maker, so that I had no more hope of being saved, but had to await the vengeful hand of God. I was facing the possibility of dying and commended myself to God, when suddenly, by a lucky turning of the ship we saw ourselves saved. Quickly we were at the bank. It was flooded but our boat could be tied to forest trees.
Five little boats gradually brought 20 severely wounded, who with their broiled bodies had to lie on the hard bottom of the ship without bedding, and who soon fell into a fever. This mourning, groaning, complaining, and then, too, the great poverty! Everything had gone to pieces! No doctor, no medicine, no other cover than the foliage of the trees! Unfortunate people, to whom we could offer no other comfort than to fan them with a little clothe, and to alleviate their parched lips with a little dirty Mississippi water. Thus they had to languish for seven hours under the burning heat of the sun, a time that seemed to me to be eternity. During this time I tried to get some information about Father Urbanek. Perhaps he, too, was just now battling life against death. Did his pious spirit retain its sense under the force of the pain, then like David in his misfortune only bemoan the fact that he was so far from the house of God? At last at three o’clock in the afternoon a steamer, which had heard of the catastrophe, arrive to pick up us shipwrecked, whereby some relief could be given to the wounded. We passed the scene of our misfortune and saw the smoldering wreck, which now was a toy of the waves of the Mississippi.
Soon thereafter we arrived in Helena Island where we halted to again pick up the wounded, who had been thrown here by the explosion. Oil had been poured into their burn wounds and their bodies were covered with flour. Once more a ray of hope glimmered in my heart. I searched among them, looked at them carefully but to no avail. In the meantime three large steamships arrived, one of which went to New Orleans and the two sailed westward. The Sister of Charity returned to New Orleans, taking with her the corpse of her Spiritual Father. My young companion also went with her since, frightened by the accident, she wished to return to her homeland. I permitted her to do so because the fright brought on a homesickness so strong that I feared she would suffer a mental disorder. The Sister of Charity promised to take care of her.
So in God’s name, battered in body and soul, I had to return home alone, which I at first thought impossible; but God came to my assistance. I entered the boat that was going homeward and sat down in a corner, giving my tears free reign. It was not long until I was surrounded by a crowd of American ladies, who cried with me. Wondering about my dress, they presented me with clothes, so I could change into dry ones. The generosity of these great American ladies! They vied with each other to relieve my condition to some extent. One fanned me, another offered me refreshing water and perfume, the third a dress, which she said was too small for her. Likewise, they offered me a cabin and a bed, for which I, poor beggar, could offer only my wordless thanks. The help and the tender attention of these American ladies pleased me very much; their sympathy went so far that they collected traveling money for me among themselves. A Negro slave girl with a noble heart came to me one evening and pressed $5.00 into my hand. I said to her, “No, I will not take any money from a slave.” She said however: “I am a slave, but not poor and you should know that slaves also can do good,” whereupon she hurried away.
Three days after this catastrophe I arrived at the dear Motherhouse, for which I had such a great longing. Gladly had I carried the pain alone, but now I had to see not only the whole Motherhouse, but also the whole Order in mourning, orphaned by the loss of a spiritual father, who was so hard to replace. The dear sisters, who had heard the telegraph reports and read the newspapers, and who hovered for several days in fear and uncertainty, praying unceasingly in their misery to God, were greatly surprised on seeing me and filled with the sincerest gratitude for my safety, since they had just about given up hope for my safety. Tears of gratitude and joy flowed when they saw me entirely unharmed. A thousand thanks to Divine Goodness for wonderfully saving my life, which, however, I would have gladly given like Reverend [Anton] Urbanek, although most unworthy of such a grace!...
Praised be Jesus and Mary!
Most obedient poor School Sister
Mary Caroline Friess
(Taken from The Letters of Mother Caroline Friess, School Sisters of Notre Dame, edited by Barbara Brumleve, SSND, 1991.)
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