Ursuline Nuns in Galveston

Duane's take

Here's my telling of what the official marker has to say about the Ursuline Nuns in Galveston. Now, January of 1847 — picture a Gulf wind coming off the water, cold and salt-heavy, and seven women stepping ashore onto Galveston Island. Seven nuns of the Ursuline Order.

The marker calls them the first order of religious women in Texas, and that right there tells you something about the ground they were walking into. They came, and they did not wait. By February of 1847 — one month, give or take — they had a convent, an academy, and twenty-five students sitting in seats.

More pupils followed. Some of them boarded. The sisters had work to do, and they set about doing it.

But here is where the story gets its weight. Galveston in those years was not a gentle place to build something. Yellow fever came in 1847.

Came again in 1853. Returned in 1858, and once more in 1868. Four times that epidemic rolled through, and four times the convent opened its doors and became a hospital.

The nuns did not leave. They stayed and they ministered. Then came the Civil War.

Union soldiers and Confederate soldiers — both — were treated by those sisters. The marker is careful to say it: without regard for the sisters' personal safety. Think about what that means.

Two armies, one house, and seven women — grown in number by then — holding the middle ground with their hands and their care. And then there were the hurricanes. Galveston and hurricanes — that is a long and sorrowful acquaintance.

When storms struck the area, the convent and academy provided shelter to the citizens of the island. But the one that demands the telling is the hurricane of 1900. More than one thousand people found shelter inside that Ursuline building.

The marker says it plainly: it was the only structure still standing near the Gulf area. The nuns rescued many people, at times risking their own lives. A thousand souls in one building, and the sisters moving through it all with purpose.

After every one of those trials — the fever years, the war, the storms — the marker says the nuns set about in purposeful activity. That phrase carries a whole character inside it. Not grief, not paralysis.

Purposeful activity. The Ursuline Academy kept on. Kept on through the decades all the way into the 1960s, when it became part of the Catholic school system.

The sisters moved into staffing the parochial schools. The work changed shape, but the work continued. And then, slowly, the numbers dwindled.

Until 1993, when the last sister left the area. One hundred and forty-six years after seven women stepped off a boat onto a Gulf island in January, the era came to a close. Seven nuns in 1847.

A thousand people sheltered in a storm. One last sister departing in 1993. That is the full arc of it — and it lands the way only a true story can.

What the marker says

In January 1847 seven nuns of the Ursuline Order, the first order of religious women in Texas, came to Galveston and established a convent and academy. The school opened with 25 students in February 1847, and quickly added more pupils, some of whom boarded. In addition to educating the youth of the area, the Ursuline nuns ministered to the community through numerous tribulations. During yellow fever epidemics of 1847, 1853, 1858, and 1868, the convent served as a hospital. Both Union and Confederate soldiers were treated by the nuns during the Civil War without regard for the sisters' personal safety. The convent and academy also provided shelter to the citizens of Galveston when hurricanes struck the area. During a hurricane in 1900 more than 1,000 people found shelter in the Ursuline building, the only structure standing near the Gulf area. The nuns rescued many people, at times risking their own lives. The nuns set about in purposeful activity following each trial. The Ursuline Academy continued until the 1960s when it became part of the Catholic school system. The sisters staffed the parochial schools. The number of Ursuline nuns dwindled until 1993 when the last sister left the area, signaling the end of an era. (1997)