Paul Gillen (1810–1882) was a “late vocation,” joining the Holy Cross priests and brothers only just before the War broke out. He was a lean, wiry native-born Irishmen, who previously had been a newspaper agent for the Catholic paper, the Boston Pilot. Though in his fifties at the time, Gillen would be with his soldiers for three years until discharged in July 1865, and was never known to have been incapacitated during the entire war. He became the oldest of all Catholic chaplains of either side to serve as a formal chaplain, also perhaps one of the most indomitable.
Arriving in Washington in July 1861, Gillen began ministering to the heavily Catholic Irish Brigade. He followed them to the Manassas battlefield, overtaking the 22nd New York just before the battle began. Hearing confessions late into the night, his spiritual work was unfinished when the troops were ordered to advance. So, he gave general absolution to all who had not been able to get to confession. The next day, as many Catholics and others lay dead on that field, the Union army and with Fr. Gillen beat a hasty retreat to Washington.
Gillen’s regular chaplain’s work then began, although at first he only sought to be a roving chaplain, not wanting a formal officer’s commission in the United States Army to “tie him down.” To do this work, he rigged up a unique contraption—a horse-drawn buggy carrying all his supplies, which could be converted, as needed, into a sleeping compartment, eating quarters or a chapel. With this unique vehicle, Gillen would drive from one Union regiment to another, administering the sacraments and giving comfort to whatever Catholic soldiers he found. Only later, after Gen. Ulysses Grant issued an 1862 order about civilians and unauthorized vehicles within army’s lines, was Gillen forced to obtain a formal commission as chaplain of the 170th New York (Corcoran’s Irish Legion) so he could freely continue with his chaplain’s work.
The soldiers were always amazed at the “elderly” Gillen’s energy and courage, as he frequently exposed himself to danger on the battlefield to administer the sacraments to soldiers. He also walked seemingly unafraid behind enemy lines after battles, a fact that led to at least one amusing incident. Upon returning to Union lines after the battle of Drainsville (December 1861), Gillen was mistaken for a Confederate, and was met by Gen. John Reynolds, who examined his pass and asked if he was not afraid of being captured. Gillen said “not in the least—I have strong forces at my back in cavalry, artillery and infantry.” Reynolds said “Go on then,” and after Gillen had left, remarked to his staff that Gillen “was the damndest venturesome old clergyman” he had ever seen.
Though Gillen was always held in good standing by soldiers and officers, his reputation was in danger of being tarnished in 1861 when a rumor arose of his excessive drinking and money-gathering for personal purposes. These rumors were put into writing by two bishops (Francis Kenrick of Baltimore, and James Wood of Philadelphia) and sent to Fr. Sorin at Notre Dame, but were in fact false. However Kenrick publicly admitted he had been mistaken, and Gillen continued with his service, not leaving until after the surrender at Appomattox. He returned to Notre Dame after the war, and only died at age seventy-two in October 1882.
Following the Bull Run disaster, in August 1861, a second Holy Cross priest was formally sent to Washington, where he soon joined the legendary Irish Brigade, working with the 63d New York. James Dillon (1833-1870) was a twenty-eight year-old Irishman, full of enthusiasm, and a ready talker. He was described by William Corby in his famous Memoirs as “young, but of mature mind, and quite eloquent. He was impulsive and ardent, and threw his whole soul into any good work he undertook… he was a young man in the prime of manhood at the time.” His ardent nature was in full display at Malvern Hill (July 1, 1862) when most of the officers in his area had been shot and were out of action. There was great confusion among the troops about whom to obey, when one of the men exclaimed “this is Father Dillon’s regiment!” A chorus began yelling in agreement, “Yes, yes! Give us Father Dillon!” Dillon then began shouting orders to the soldiers, rallied the regiment and led it until relieved by a more fitting officer.
Though he began his chaplains work in the 63d New York (Irish Brigade), around the late fall of 1862, Dillon was transferred to the command of Gen. Michael Corcoran, and became a chaplain in his Irish Legion (the 182nd New York specifically), being located for a time at Suffolk, Virginia. Of the Catholic chaplains of both sides, there may have been no bigger promoter of temperance issues for his predominantly Irish troops than James Dillon. Drunkenness was endemic to army camp life, but Dillon declared it publicly to be “the father of all crimes.” Working with Corby and Ouellet, he established a Temperance Society, which hundreds of men joined on the spot, and which also increased attendance at Mass greatly. Dillon eventually had medals struck for the approximately seven hundred men who joined the society and took the pledge. “It was not intended to promote total abstinence—a near impossibility with Irish fighting men, Father Corby observed—but rather moderation and the elimination of drunkenness.”
However, unlike his tough elder compatriot Fr. Gillen, Dillon’s health was far more delicate, and the toughness of camp life exacerbated previous lung troubles that he had. Thus, less than a year after mustering in, in October 1862, Dillon was forced by disability to resign his chaplain’s commission. Though he attempted to rejoin the Union 2nd Corps troops during the Petersburg campaign, his health would not allow, and he again returned to Notre Dame. Despite that community’s efforts to help him (he went to Europe for a year, then California), Dillon died at the early age of 37, in December 1868, due in large part to the lung problems he went through as a chaplain.
(excerpted from chapter 4)
