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INCIDENTS 


UNITED  STATES 


CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION 


15  Y 

REV.   EDWARD   P.   SMITH 

FIKI.D  SECRETARY  OF  THR  COMMISSION 


PHILADELPHIA 
J.      B.      LIPPINCOTT     &     CO. 

1  8  6  (J 


Entered  according  to  Act  of   Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

HOKAIiO  GATES  JONES, 
Secretary  of  the  Trustees  of   the  U.  S.  Christian   Commission, 

In    the  Clerk's    Office  of    the  District  Court    of   the    United  States,   tor    the  Eastern 
District  of   Pennsylvania. 


LIPPINOOTT'S    PRE 

P  H  I  L  A  D  K  LP  II  I  A  . 


TO   THE 


CHKISTIAN  SOLDIEES  AND  SAILOES 


OF    THE 


WHO,  BY   TOIL  AND   PIETY   UNDER  ARMS,  IN  LOYALTY  TO   COUNTRY 

AND  TO  CHRIST,  ENDING  OFTEN  IN  CHEERFUL 

DEATH,  HAVE  FURNISHED  THE 

INCIDENTS 


WHICH    ARE    HERE   GROUPED    TOGETHER-IN    JUST    PRAISE   OF   THE 
SURVIVING  AND    IN    LOVING    MEMORY  OF    THE    DEAD, 


THIS   BOOK 


GRATEFULLY    INSCRIBED. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


By  the  vote  of  the  U".  S.  Christian  Commission,  at 
its  final  meeting,  five  residuary  Trustees  -were  appointed, 
through  whom  the  -profits  accruing  from  the  sale  of  this 
book  are  to  be  expended  for  "the  spiritual  and  temporal 
benefit  of  those  -who  are,  have  been,  or  may  be,  soldiers  or 
sailors  in  the  service  of  the  United  States" 


INTRODUCTORY  STATEMENT. 


THIS  volume  has  its  origin  in  the  peculiarity  of  the  war  in  the 
United  States  against  rebellion — not  of  the  forces  arrayed  against 
each  other,  or  of  movements  executed,  or  of  victories  wrought ; 
but  of  the  forces  of  Christianity  developed  and  exemplified 
amid  the  carnage  of  battle  and  the  more  perilous  tests  of  hos 
pital  and  camp. 

These  religious  forces  were  not  begotten  of  the  Christian 
Commission ;  they  came  with  the  army  from  the  Christian  homes 
of  its  citizen  soldiery.  The  Commission  was,  rather,  born  of 
them.  Certainly  it  began  because  of  their  existence  and  need  of 
help,  and  became,  at  once,  their  helper  and  recorder. 

The  officers  of  the  Commission  felt  that  the  five  thousand 
Delegates,  a  majority  of  them  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  who  had 
gone  to  the  field  laden  with  good  cheer  and  tokens  of  love  for 
the  soldiers,  and  had  thus  been  enabled  to  come  into  the  closest 
sympathy  with  them,  and  to  bring  back  to  the  fireside  fresh, 
truthful  pictures  of  camp-life,  must  have  witnessed  scenes  of 
faith  and  heroism,  of  conversion  to  the  new  life  and  dedication  to 
Christ,  and  in  chapel-tents  and  fever-wards  and  on  bloody  fields 


6  INTRODUCTORY    STATEMENT. 

have  heard  manly  testimony  for  truth  and  taken  messages  from 
the  lips  of  death,  such  as  would  make  a  record  that  ought  not 
to  be  lost  to  the  Eepublic  or  to  the  Christian  Church,  nor  left 
in  unwritten  fragments  to  degenerate  into  army  traditions. 
They,  accordingly,  not  only  provided  for  the  permanent  record 
of  the  Christian  Commission,  in  its  organization  and  work,  by 
the  Home  Secretary,  Rev.  Lemuel  Moss,  but  also  instructed  the 
Field  Secretary  "  to  prepare  a  volume  of  such  Incidents  as  may 
be  regarded  by  him  as  fully  authentic,  and  the  most  valuable  of 
those  which  have  occurred  during  the  work  of  the  Commission." 

Entire  absorption  by  the  secretary,  thus  instructed,  in  another 
labor  growing  out  of  the  war,  and  unexpected  difficulties  in 
gathering  and  authenticating  so  many  Incidents,  have  occasioned 
a  much  longer  delay  than  was  anticipated  in  the  preparation  of 
the  volume. 

For  most  of  the  Incidents  names  of  the  authors  are  given ;  and 
persons  thus  named,  unless  mentioned  as  belonging  to  some  other 
relief  organization,  or  as  in  the  army  for  some  other  purpose,  are 
Delegates  of  the  Christian  Commission. 

Where  an  Incident  is  credited  to  a  Delegate  who  is  not  named, 
the  name  of  the  person  receiving  it  from  the  Delegate  is  given. 

The  few  Incidents  taken  from  the  religious  press  generally 
bear  the  names  of  their  authors.  In  the  exceptions  to  this,  the 
character  of  the  periodical  in  which  they  originally  appeared  is 
offered  in  evidence  of  their  authenticity. 

The  five  hundred  and  more  Incidents  here  gathered  have  been 
preferred  out  of  over  ten  thousand  that  were  in  hand,  on  the 
principle  of  the  largest  variety  of  character  in  their  subjects  and 
of  time  and  place  in  their  occurrence. 


INTRODUCTORY   STATEMENT.  7 

No  such  collection  of  stories  can  be  made  without  the  peril  of 
sameness,  even  to  satiety ;  and  the  more  perfect  each  sketch  may 
be  in  itself  the  greater  the  peril.  A  relief  has  been  attempted 
by  marshalling  the  Incidents  along  the  line  of  army  operations 
in  both  place  and  time.  Thus  an  Incident  recorded  for  a  given 
day  becomes  a  part  of  the  army  history  of  that  day — an  illus 
tration  in  the  case  of  one  man  of  what  may  have  been  transpir 
ing  with  hundreds  of  others ;  and  thus  it  receives  an  historical 
and  topographical  interest  which  may  help  carry  the  reader  with 
less  weariness  towards  the  end. 

The  briefest  possible  sketch  of  army  movements  and  results 
of  great  battles  is  all  that  could  be  allowed  for  such  an  historical 
line.  The  materials  of  this  sketch,  or  skeleton  record,  and  often 
the  words  in  which  it  runs,  have  been  freely  taken  from  Mr. 
Greeley's  "  American  Conflict/' 

In  the  Incidents  furnished  out  of  the  author's  own  army  ex 
perience  it  has  seemed  best,  for  securing  authenticity  with  sim 
plicity  in  the  form  of  statement,  that  he  should  use  the  third 
person  and  speak  of  himself  very  much  as  of  others. 

Whatever  excellence  this  book  may  possess  is  fairly  to  be 
credited  to  its  friends,  as  follows  : 

To  the  Delegates  and  members  of  the  Commission,  who  have 
responded  so  kindly  and  heartily  to  requests  for  Incidents  occur 
ring  under  their  own  observation ;  to  the  watchful  care  of  the 
Committee  of  Publication,  who  have  counselled  at  every  chapter ; 
especially,  to  Charles  Demond,  Esq.,  of  Boston,  who  has  patiently 
and  with  great  profit  to  these  pages  read  them  all  in  proof;  and, 
more  than  all,  to  Eev.  John  Irving  Forbes,  who,  by  his  long 
and  intimate  connection  with  the  work  of  the  Christian  Com- 


8  INTRODUCTORY    STATEMENT. 

mission  at  the  Philadelphia  office,  was  eminently  fitted  for  a 
helper.  In  personal  interviews  with  many  Delegates  in  different 
parts  of  the  country,  he  has  taken  from  their  lips  not  a  few  of 
the  gems  of  this  collection,  and  by  his  patience  and  skill  and 
industry,  amid  other  duties,  has  wrought  most  of  the  mechanical 
and  intellectual  labor  of  putting  the  volume  to  press. 

When  strong  men  are  to  be  aroused  to  action,  or  youth  are  to 
be  incited  to  deeds  of  valor  and  virtue,  no  portion  of  human 
history  is  more  frequently  used  than  words  quoted  out  of  the 
smoke  of  battle  and  from  the  lips  of  men  dying  for  a  principle. 
Most  of  the  Incidents  here  gathered  relate  to  memorable  scenes, 
in  which  men,  if  ever,  say  and  do  what  is  worthy  of  mention 
and  imitation.  It  is  fondly  hoped  that  they  may  be  not  without 
good  to  all  who  read  them,  and  of  special  service  to  those  who 
are  to  help  and  teach  others  to  be  truly  noble. 

EDWARD  P.  SMITH. 

ROOMS  OF  AMERICAN  MISSIONARY  ASSOCIATION, 
New  York,  Oct.,  1868. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

PAGE 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES:  UNTIL  THE  RETREAT  FROM  THE  PENINSULA:  APRIL, 

1861— JULY,  1862 13 

CHAPTER   II. 

THE  EASTERN   ARMIES:    FROM    POPE'S    BATTLES    UNTIL    HOOKER    TAKES  COM 
MAND:  JULY,  1862—JANUARY,  1863 35 

CHAPTER   III. 

THE  WESTERN    ARMIES:    UNTIL  AFTER    THE   STONE    RIVER    BATTLES:    APRIL, 

1861— JANUARY,  1863 58 

CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  WESTERN   ARMIES:   FROM  AFTER  THE  STONE  RIVER  BATTLES  UNTIL  THE 

SURRENDER  OF  VICKSBURG:  JANUARY,   1863— JULY,  1863 91 

CHAPTER   V. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES:   FROM  THE    BEGINNING  OF  1863  UNTIL    LEE'S    SECOND 

INVASION:  JANUARY,  1863— JUNE,  1863 125 

CHAPTER   YI. 

THE  EASTERN   ARMIES:   GETTYSBURG:   JULY,  1863 159 

CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES:  FROM  GETTYSBURG  UNTIL  GRANT'S  ADVANCE  ON  RICH 
MOND:   JULY,  1863— MAY,  1864 190 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE  WESTERN  ARMIES:  THE  CAMPAIGNS  IN  TENNESSEE  AND  GEORGIA:   JULY, 

1863— DECEMBER,  1863 215 

CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES :  GENERAL  GRANT'S  ADVANCE  ON  RICHMOND :  MAY  AND 

JUNE,   1864 244 


10  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   X. 

THE    WESTERN    ARMIES:    FROM    THE    BEGINNING    OF    1864    TO    THE    FALL 
ATLANTA:  JANUARY,  1864— SEPTEMBER,  1864 


CHAPTER   XI. 

THE  EASTERN   ARMIES:   FROM  THE  INVESTMENT  OF  PETERSBURG  UNTIL  THE 

CLOSE  OF  THE  WAR:  JUNE,  1864— APRIL,  1865 296 

CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES:    FROM   THE   INVESTMENT   OF  PETERSBURG  UNTIL   THE 

CLOSE  OF   THE  WAR:  JUNE,  1864— APRIL,  1865   (CONTINUED) 322 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE  EASTERN   ARMIES:   FROM  THE  INVESTMENT   OF  PETERSBURG  UNTIL  THE 

CLOSE  OF  THE  WAR:  JUNE,   1864— APRIL,  1865  (CONCLUDED) 351 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES:  OPERATIONS  NEAR  WASHINGTON  AND  HARPER'S  FERRY: 

JUNE,  1864— JUNE,  1865 372 

CHAPTER   XV. 

THE   PRISONERS  IN  THE  SOUTH :   WITH  NOTICES  OF  THOSE  WHO  RETURNED  TO 

ANNAPOLIS 395 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE  WESTERN  ARMIES:  FROM  THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTA  TO  THE  CLOSE  OF  COM 
MISSION  WORK;  WITH  SOME  NOTICES  OF  HOSPITAL  AND  OTHER  WORK 
BEFORE  ATLANTA  FELL:  JUNE,  1864— SEPTEMBER,  1865 414 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE  WESTERN   ARMIES:    WORK   ALONG    AND   NEAR    THE    MISSISSIPPI    RIVER: 

JULY,   1863— DECEMBER,   1865 441 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

ALONG  THE  COAST:   1861—1865 465 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE   HOME  SIDE 477 

INDEX.... 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


UPRISING   OF   THE   PEOPLE (STEEL   PLATE) FRONTISPIECE. 

THE   WAR   BEGUN (STEEL   PLATE) FRONTISPIECE. 

PAGE 

NOT   ENEMIES 37 

GIVING  UP  THE  BUSINESS 70 

"GET  THE   SHIP   BY,   BOYS" 124 

"THE   HUMISTON  CHILDREN" 175 

"ALMOST  UP" 233 

DYING  IN  GEORGIA 291 

THE  LAST   LETTER 294 

"THAT'S  WORTH   A   HUNDRED  DOLLARS" 310 

QUESTIONING   GENERAL  GRANT 359 

NEWS  IN  LIBBY  PRISON 396 

CRUTCH  EXCHANGE 419 

"  SONGS  FOR  SIGHING" 432 

"I  CANNOT  COME  NOW— I   WILL  NOT" .  463 


CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION  INCIDENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES. 

UNTIL   THE    RETREAT    FROM    THE   PENINSULA. 
April  1861  —  July  1862. 

No  attempt  has  been  made  to  give  a  representative 
record  of  Incidents  before  the  Commission  began  its 
active  work.  A  very  few  such  accounts  are  inserted, — 
here  and  in  the  chapters  introducing  the  labors  in  other 
parts  of  the  army, — but  they  will  only  serve  to  show 
that  the  necessities,  before  and  after  the  origin  of  the 
Commission,  were  the  same. 

The  Fulton  Street  Prayer  Meeting  in  New  York  was 
the  centre  of  a  deep  Christian  interest  for  the  soldiers. 
It,  with  the  numerous  meetings  like  it  throughout  the 
land,  had  some  influence  in  leading  men  to  feel  the  need 
of  an  agency  such  as  the  Commission.  The  Sunday- 
School  Times  of  June  29,  1861,  gives  the  report  of  a 
story  told  in  that  meeting,  a  few  days  before.  A  speaker 
rose  and  said : 

A  drummer-boy  went  from  Brooklyn  on  shipboard  to  Portress  Mon 
roe.  He  was  a  Sunday-school  scholar.  One  evening,  overcome  with 

13 


14  CHRISTIAN   COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

fatigue,  he  had  lain  down  upon  the  deck  and  fallen  asleep.     The 

dews  were  falling.     The  Colonel  came  along,  shook 
TJic  Drummer-       .  .      .        .        .. 

So  's  Pra  er  ^         shoulder,  told  him  he  would  take   cold, 

and  advised  him  to  go  below.  As  he  was  getting 
up,  his  Bible  fell  out  of  his  pocket.  He  picked  it  up,  replaced  it, 
and  went  below  to  prepare  himself  for  bed.  When  all  ready,  he 
knelt  down  —  many  loudly-talking  men  standing  around  —  and  put 
ting  his  hands  together  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  poured  out  his 
heart  silently  to  God.  He  heeded  not  the  noise  around  him.  In  a 
moment  all  that  noise  was  hushed  :  the  company,  awed  by  the  con 
duct  of  a  boy,  reverently  stood  silent  until  he  had  finished. 

After  this  pleasing  account  had  been  given,  another  in  the  meeting 
stated  that  this  praying  drummer-boy  had  been  killed  in  a  late 
battle.  The  news  had  just  been  received  by  his  father.  A  thrill  of 
tearful  sympathy  instantly  passed  through  the  meeting.  A  few  days 
later,  it  was  stated  that  the  little  boy  had  prayed  every  day  up  to 
the  time  that  he  was  killed.  He  was  also  constantly  reading  his 
Bible,  as  he  could  snatch  the  opportunity.  So  anxious  was  he  to 
read  it,  that  he  was  known  sometimes  to  rise  in  the  night  to  do  so. 

Gen.  McDowell's  army  began  its  advance  into  Vir 
ginia  on  Tuesday,  July  16,  1861.  On  the  following 
Sunday  the  first  battle  of  "  Bull  Run"  was  fought,  and 
the  Union  forces  retreated  to  Washington.  The  Sun 
day-School  Times  of  August  24,  1861,  gives  this  account 
of  a  scene  in  that  battle,  related  in  the  Fulton  Street 
Meeting  : 

A  clergyman  stated  that  a  soldier  told  him,  that  immediately  after 
the  first  fire,  in  which  many  were  killed  and  wounded,  he  heard  a 
cry,  which  could  only  come  from  a  man  on  the  borders  of  eternity, 
"  God  have  mercy  on  my  soul."     The  cry  soon  be- 
came  contagious  ;  and  he  himself,  though  fighting 


with  all  his  might,  joined  in  repeating  the  words, 
"  God  have  mercy  on  my  soul."  The  soldier  stated  that  he  was  not 
a  pious  man,  yet  the  impression  received  from  that  cry  on  the  bat 
tle-field  had  never  left  him;  and  for  several  nights  after  his  return 


AFTER    BULL    RUN.  15 

to  New  York,  he  had  not  been  able  to  sleep,  but  through  all  the 
silent  hours  he  would  hear  that  continual  cry,  made  as  none  but  the 
dying  could  make  it,  "  God  have  mercy  on  my  soul." 

Mrs.  E.  N.  Harris,  of  Philadelphia,  who  visited  the 
hospitals  in  Washington,  Georgetown  and  Alexandria, 
immediately  after  the  battle,  wrote  to  Rev.  Dr.  Taylor,1 
as  follows  :2 

Another,  whose  benignant,  placid  expression  told  of  great  peace, 
to  the  remark,  "  You  have  been  shielded  in  the  day  of  battle, — per 
haps  in  answer  to  a  mother's  prayers,"  replied — 

"Yes,  to  those  of  a  sainted  mother;  but  especially 

.  .  Shielded     by 

to  those  of  a  praying  wife,  who,  in  a  letter  just  re-      prayer 

ceived,  says, '  I  spent  the  whole  of  Sabbath  in  prayer 
for  you,'  not  knowing  I  was  in  battle;   but  her  Father  and  my 
Father  knew  it.     That  was  enough.     I  went   into  the  battle  with 
prayer,  and  returned  with  thanksgiving  for  a  spared  life." 

I  was  about  to  pass  on,  when  the  position  of  his  arm  arrested  me. 

"  You  are  wounded  in  the  arm  ?" 

"Yes." 

"I  hope  not  seriously." 

"Yes,  it  was  amputated  at  the  elbow  before  I  left  the  field." 

Wholly  unprepared  for  such  an  announcement,  my  feelings  over 
powered  me.  He  soothingly  said — 

"  It  is  only  my  left  arm.  That  is  not  much  to  give  my  country.  It 
might  have  been  my  life." 

Another,  a  lovely  youth,  whose  bright,  restless  eye  and  flushed 
cheek  told  of  suffering,  grasped  my  hand  and  gently  pulled  me  to 
wards  him ;  I  knelt  beside  him  and  said — 

"  My  dear  boy,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?     Shall  I 

,  n    ,  *  -r         „„  Mother    and 

talk  to  you  of  Jesus  ?  A     . 

^xTvTvfrvi 

"Oh  yes,"  he  said,  "I  am  used  to  that.     I  have 


1  Then  Pastor  of  a  Reformed  Protestant  (Dutch)  Church  in  Philadelphia. 
Now  Secretary  of  the  American  Bible  Society. 

2  Annals,  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  90-92. 


16  CHKISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

loved  Him,  but  not  near  enough,  for  two  years;  and  now  He  is  going 
to  take  me  home." 

"  You  are  very  young.     Have  you  a  mother?" 

"  Oh  yes  ;"  tears  filled  his  eyes. 

"  It  must  have  been  a  great  trial  to  give  you  to  your  country." 

"  Yes,  it  was.  When  I  first  mentioned  it,  she  would  not  hear  me  ; 
but  we  both  prayed  over  it,  and  at  last  she  consented,  saying  —  '  My 
country  deserves  this  sacrifice.  I  gave  you  to  God  at  your  birth,  and 
this  is  His  cause.'  " 

As  I  fanned  the  dear  boy,  brushing  back  the  hair  from  his  beau 
tiful  forehead,  he  fell  into  a  sleep.  When  I  withdrew  my  hand,  he 
started  and  exclaimed  — 

"  Oh,  I  dreamed  that  was  Annie's  hand.  Won't  you  put  it  on  my 
head  again  ?" 

"Who  is  Annie?" 

"  My  twin  sister.     We  were  seventeen  since  I  left  home." 

This  dear  youth  is  now  with  the  Saviour.  He  died  from  his  wounds 
the  next  day. 

Gen.  McClellan  was  called  from  Western  Virginia  to 
Washington,  immediately  after  the  battle  of  Bull  Run  ; 
the  command  in  his  department  devolving  on  Gen.  Rose- 
crans.  In  September,  there  was  some  severe  skirmishing 
at  Cheat  Mountain.  The  New  York  Advocate  and  Jour 
nal  relates  an  incident  of  that  battle: 

A  soldier,  the  night  before  the  battle,  received  a  letter  from  his 
mother  which  he  opened  and  began  to  read.  He  had  proceeded  but 
a  few  lines,  when  scalding  tears  bedewed  it,  and  prevented  his  read 
ing  further  ;  he  handed  it  to  a  comrade  and  requested 


L  tter  him  t0 


own  heart  melted  by  the  tender  appeals  of  that 
mother  to  her  boy  —  to  come  to  Christ.  The  last  words  of  the  letter 
were,  "O  my  son!  my  son!  will  you  not  take  your  mother's  Saviour 
for  your  Saviour  ?" 

He  went  into  the  battle  and  was  killed.     In  the  morning,  as  they 


THE    FIEST    DELEGATES.  17 

gathered  the  dead,  he  was  found  with  one  hand  firmly  grasping  that 
letter  baptized  now  in  his  own  heart's  blood,  as  well  as  his  tears. 

The  members  of  the  Commission,  shortly  after  its 
organization  in  November,  1861,  visited  Washington,  to 
survey  the  yet  scarcely  attempted  work. 

Passing  near  Fort  Albany,1  then  occupied  by  the  14th  Mass.,  one 
of  the  company  asked  a  soldier — 

"  Have  you  any  praying  men  in  the  regiment?" 

Going  Dovm 
"  Oh  yes,  a  great  many,    he  answered.  t          jj 

"  And  do  you  ever  meet  for  prayer  ?" 

"  Every  day." 

"  Where  do  you  meet  ?" 

"  Just  come  here." 

The  party  went  inside  the  new  and  beautiful  fort  which  the  regi 
ment  had  been  building. 

"  I  can  see  no  place  for  prayer,"  said  one. 

"  Look  down  there,"  said  the  soldier,  raising  a  trap  door  as  he 
spoke. 

"  What  is  down  there?"  for  it  was  like  looking  into  darkness  itself. 

"  That's  the  bomb-proof,  and  down  there  is  the  place  where  we 
hold  our  daily  prayer  meetings." 

"  That's  going  down  to  get  up,  isn't  it  ?"  was  the  questioner's 
reply. 

The  army  defending  Washington  lay  inactive  during 
the  autumn  and  winter.  In  April,  1862,  it  began  the 
advance  upon  Richmond  by  the  way  of  the  Peninsula. 
A  month's  delay  before  Yorktown  gave  opportunity  for 
several  skirmishes ;  sickness  set  in  ;  and  by  the  time  the 
army  moved  from  Yorktown,  there  was  a  call  upon  the 
Christian  benevolence  and  patriotism  of  the  North, 
which  could  not  be  longer  refused ;  very  shortly  after 
wards,  the  long-delayed  messengers  of  the  Commission 

1  About  a  mile  from  Long  Bridge,  in  Virginia. 
2 


18  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

came.  Unknown  as  the  organization  was,  it  met  at  first 
with  but  a  doubtful  reception.  Ilev.  Geo.  J.  Mingins,1 
one  of  the  first  seven  Delegates  sent  out  from  Philadel 
phia  to  Fortress  Monroe  and  Yorktown,  in  May,  1862, 
gives  a  graphic  account  of  the  advent  at  Old  Point 
Comfort  :2 

I  remember  my  introduction  to  the  Medical  Director  at  Fortress 
Monroe.  We  had  then  no  printed  commission.  In  Baltimore,  we 
had  had  hard  work  to  obtain  a  pass  to  the  Fortress;  and  the  moment 

The  Advent  at  we  set  foot  on  land  there,  we  were  marched,  like  a 
Old  Point  Com-  file  of  Indians,  to  the  Provost-Marshal's  office,  and 
made  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance,  before  they 
would  permit  us  to  open  our  mouths.  I  remember,  after  we 
had  taken  the  oath,  we  found  we  could  not  go  anywhere,  but  were 
bumping  up  against  a  sentry  at  almost  every  corner,  and  were 
asked,  every  hundred  or  thousand  yards,  for  our  passes.  Well, 
we  went  back  to  the  Provost-Marshal  and  told  him — 

"  We  can't  go  anywhere." 

And  he  replied,  "  I  know  it." 

We  said,  "  We  wanted  to  see  the  Medical  Director,  and  tried  to 
get  into  the  Fortress  and  couldn't." 

"  I  know  it." 

"  But,  sir,  can't  you  give  us  a  pass  by  which  we  may  obtain  an 
interview  with  the  Director  ?" 

"  Who  are  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  We  are  Delegates  of  the  United  States  Christian  Commission." 

And  he  said,  "  What's  that  ?" 

I  doubt  whether  you  could  find  a  squad  of  soldiers  to-day  who 
would  need  to  ask  that  question.  But  at  last  he  gave  us  a  pass,  and 
we  went  into  the  Fortress.  We  felt  very  strange,  but  finally  ob 
tained  an  interview  with  the  Director.  We  stood  in  his  office.  In 
a  brusque  manner  he  looked  up  and  said — 


1  Then  Pastor  of  (O.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Huntingdon  Valley,  Pa.     Now 
the  Superintendent  of  City  Missions  in  New  York. 

2  From  a  public  address. 


THE    FIRST    DELEGATES.  19 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

One  of  us  became  spokesman.  I  did  not ;  I  was  afraid ;  I  had 
had  enough  "  bluffing  off"  already ;  from  that  day  to  this  I  have  had 
a  wholesome  fear  of  a  military  man,  when  sitting  in  an  office,  with  a 
quill  behind  his  ear  instead  of  a  sword  in  his  hand.  I  can  face  him 
with  a  sword,  but  I  can't  bear  him  with  a  quill.  An  Episcopalian 
minister  stepped  forward,  and  began  to  tell  him  that  we  were  Dele 
gates  of  the  Christian  Commission.  I  do  not  know  whether  he 
thought  that  he  would  astonish  the  Director — but  I  can  testify  that 
he  did  not  astonish  him. 

"What's  that?"  was  all  his  answer. 

W^e  told  him  then  what  it  was.     He  replied^ 

"Gentlemen!    Gentlemen!     What  do  you  want  down  here?" 

Then  this  gentleman  gave  him  a  pretty  good  idea  of  what  we 
wanted.  He  rose,  put  down  his  pen,  and  said — • 

"  So,  gentlemen,  you  have  come  down  here  to  see  what  you  can  do 
for  the  sick  and  wounded  ?" 

"  Precisely  so,"  I  ventured  to  remark. 

He  said,  "Aye.     Well,  who  are  you,  in  the  first  place  ?" 

We  told  him  that  we  were  four  clergymen  and  three  laymen. 
When  we  talked  of  "  clergymen,"  I  noticed  a  smile  lurking  round 
the  corners  of  his  mouth.  But  he  said,  "And  you  want  to  do  some 
thing?" 

We  said,  "Yes." 

"  Then  I  will  give  you  work  in  ten  minutes.  There  are  three 
hundred  sick  and  wounded  men  lying  on  board  one  of  the  trans 
ports  at  the  wharf.  I  want  three  men  to  accompany  them  to 
New  York,  Philadelphia  or  Baltimore — I  don't  know  where  they 
are  going  ;  you  will  get  your  orders  when  you  are  on  board.  Will 
you  go?" 

Three  of  us  at  once  volunteered.     He  said — 

"  Gentlemen,  do  you  know  what  you  are  going  to  do?  You  are  not 
going  to  preach,  mind.  I  tell  you  what — I  want  you  as  nurses." 

He  looked  into  their  eyes,  but  they  never  flinched.  Two  of  them 
were  "  clergymen."  When  they  were  gone,  he  gave  us  work  also. 

"  But,  mark  me,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  I  want  men  who  will  wash 
wounds,  who  will  scrub  floors,  if  necessary, — in  fact,  who  will 
perform  the  duties  of  a  hired  nurse, — and  then,  after  that,  I  have 


20  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

no  objection  at  all  that  you  put  into  practice  any  higher  mission  you 
jpay  have." 

We  separated  and  went  to  our  work.  A  few  days  after,  the 
same  Director  sent  for  us ;  this  time  there  was  deference  in  his 
manner,  a  kinder  tone  in  his  voice.  He  sent  us  to  the  three  thou 
sand  wounded  and  sick  at  Yorktown.  When  we  met  him  two  or 
three  weeks  afterwards  again,  we  found  that  the  young  Christian 
Commission  had  conquered  a  way  to  his  heart. 

Thus,  the  work,  in  spite  of  obstacles,  was  begun  and 
prospered.  The  following  bit  of  Rev.  Mr.  Mingins' 
experience  will  show  how  it  gained  favor  with  the  men 
in  the  ranks,  for  whom  it  was  especially  intended.  The 
scene  is  at  Yorktown ;  the  subject  an  Irishman  :l 

Well,  this  was  a  very  tough  Irishman  I  assure  you.  It  was  at  a 
time  when  a  great  many  were  sick  at  Yorktown, — men  who  had 
marched  and  dug  and  delved,  until  they  were  completely  broken 

down.     A  great  many  of  them  had   no  clean  shirts 

The   Difficult 

Irishman  '  °n>  &        a    ^arSG     suPP*7i    anc*    was     g°ing 

through  the  tent,  giving  them  to  the  poor  fellows. 
I  came  to  this  Irishman. 

"  My  dear  friend,"  said  I,  "  how  are  you  ?  You  seem  to  be  an 
old  man." 

"  Shure  an'  I  am  an  ould  mon,  sir." 

"  Well,  how  came  you  here  in  the  army,  old  as  you  are?" 

"Och,  sir,  I'm  not  only  an  ould  mon,  but  an  ould  sojer  too,  I'd 
have  ye  know."  He  had  been  twenty  years  in  the  British  service  in 
the  East  Indies,  and  had  fought  America's  foes  in  Mexico. 

"Yes,  sir"  he  continued,  "I'm  ould,  an'  I  know  it,  but  I'm  not 
too  ould  to  shoulther  a  musket,  and  hit  a  rap  for  the  ould  flag  yit." 

"You're  a  brave  fellow,"  said  I,  "and  I've  brought  these  things  to 
make  you  comfortable,"  as  I  held  out  to  him  a  shirt  and  pair  of 
drawers.  He  looked  at  me.  Said  he — 


1  Taken  from  an  address  at  the  Washington  Anniversary  of  the  Commission, 
February  2,  1864. 


YOKKTOWN.  21 

"  Is't  thim  things  f ' 

"Yes,  I  want  to  give  them  to  you  to  wear." 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  thim." 

"  You  do  want  them." 

"  Well  I  don't ;"  and  he  looked  at  me  and  then  at  the  goods,  and 
said  somewhat  sharply,  as  I  urged  him  again,  "  Niver  moind,  sir ;  I 
don't  want  thim ;  and,  I  till  ye,  I  won't  have  thim." 

"  Why  ?" 

"  Shure,"  said  he,  "  d'  ye  take  me  for  an  objic  uv  charithy  ?" 

That  was  a  kind  of  poser.     I  looked  at  him. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  I,  "  I  do  not  take  you  for  an  object  of  charity,  and 
I  don't  want  you  to  look  on  me  as  a  dispenser  of  charity,  for  I 
am  not." 

"  Well,  what  are  ye,  thin  ?" 

"  I  am  a  Delegate  of  the  United  States  Christian  Commission,  bear 
ing  the  thank-offerings  of  mothers  and  wives  and  sisters  to  you  brave 
defenders  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes."  And  I  thought,  surely,  after 
such  a  speech  as  that,  I  would  get  hold  of  the  old  fellow's  heart. 
But  he  looked  at  me  and  said — 

"  Any  how,  I  won't  have  thim." 

I  felt  really  hurt.  I  did  not  at  all  like  it.  I  have  told  you,  he 
was  an  Irishman,  and  I  happened  to  be  a  Scotchman.  I  was  de 
termined  not  to  be  conquered.  I  meant  to  try  further,  and  when  a 
Scotchman  means  to  try  a  thing,  he  will  come  very  near  doing  it. 

I  didn't  talk  any  further  then,  but  determined  to  prove  by  my 
acts  that  I  had  come  down  to  do  this  old  man  good.  So  day  after 
day  I  went  about  my  work,  nursing,  giving  medicines,  cleaning  up 
the  tent,  and  doing  anything  and  everything  I  could. 

One  day,  as  I  went  in,  a  soldier  said—  Descriptive 

"  There's  good  news  to-day,  Chaplain."  l 

"Ah,  what  is  it?" 

"  Paymaster's  come." 

"  Well  that  is  good  news." 

"  Yes,  but  not  to  me,  Chaplain." 

"How  is  that?" 


1  The  soldiers,  almost  uniformly,  styled  the  Christian  Commission  Delegates, 
"  Chaplains." 


22  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  I've  not  got  my  descriptive  list,  and  if  a  fellow's  not   got  that, 
the  Paymaster  may  come  and  go,  and  he's  none  the  better  off  for  it." 
"  Well,  why  don't  you  get  it?" 

"  I  can't  write,  Chaplain ;  I've  got  chronic  rheumatism." 
"  Shall  I  write  for  you  ?" 
"  If  you  only  would,  Chaplain." 

I  hauled  out  paper  and  pencil,  asked  the  number  of  his  regi 
ment,  name  of  his  Captain,  company,  &c.,  and  sent  a  simple  request 
that  the  descriptive  list  might  be  remitted  to  that  point.  When  I 
had  done  this,  I  found  a  good  many  who  wanted  their  lists,  and  I 
went  on  writing  for  them  until  I  came  to  the  cot  next  to  the  old  Irish 
man's.  It  was  occupied  by  another  Irishman.  I  asked  him  if  he 
had  his  descriptive  list. 

"  No." 

"Shall  I  write  to  your  Captain  for  it?" 

"  Av  ye  plaze,"  and  I  began  to  write. 

I  noticed  the  old  Irishman  stretching  over, — all  attention.  I 
spoke  now  and  then  a  word  meant  for  him,  though  I  affected  not  to 
notice  him.  After  I  had  written  the  request,  I  asked  the  young 
man  if  I  should  read  it  to  him  aloud.  "  Av  ye  plaze,  sir,"  and  I 
read  him  the  simple  note.  When  I  had  done,  the  old  Irishman 
broke  out  with — 

"  Upon  me  sowl,  sir,  ye  wroite  the  natest  letther  for  a  dishcrip- 
tive  list,  that  I  iver  heerd  in  me  loife.  Shure  an'  a  mon  wud 
think  ye'd  been  a  sojer  all  yur  days,  ye  do  wroite  so  nate  a  letther." 

I  turned  round  and  asked,  "Have you  got  yours?" 

"  An'  I  haven't,  sir." 

"  Do  von  want  it  ?" 

"An'  to  be  shure  I  do,"  said  he,  flaring  up ;  "  an'  thot's  a  quare 
quistyun  to  ax  a  man,  av  he  wants  his  dischriptive  list — av  he 
wants  his  pay  to  boy  some  dillicacies  to  sind  home  to  the  on  Id 
woman  an'  the  chilther.  I  do  want  it,  and  av  ye'll  lind  us  the 
sthroke  uv  yur  pin,  Chaplain,  ye'll  oblige  us." 

I  sat  down  and  wrote  the  letter,  and  when  I  had  done  said, 
"  Now,  boys,  give  me  your  letters  and  I'll  have  them  postpaid  and 
sent  for  you." 

When  I  returned,  sad  work  awaited  me.  One  of  Massachusetts' 
sons  lay  in  the  tent,  dying.  I  spoke  to  the  dying  boy  of  mother, 


YOKKTOWK.  23 


of  Jesus,  of  home,  of  heaven.     I  believe  it  to  be  a  great  character- 

Mother. 


istic  of  the  American  heart,  that  it  clings  to  home 


and  mother.  I  remember  passing  over  a  battle-field 
and  seeing  a  man  just  dying.  His  mind  was  wandering.  His  spirit 
was  no  longer  on  that  bloody  field  ;  it  was  at  his  home  far  away.  A 
smile  passed  over  his  face — a  smile,  oh  of  such  sweetness,  as  looking 
up  he  said — 

"O  mother!  O  mother!  I'm  so  glad  you  have  come." 

And  it  seemed  as  if  she  was  there  by  his  side.  By  and  bye  he 
said  again — 

"  Mother,  it's  cold,  it's  cold ;  won't  you  pull  the  blanket  over 
me  ?" 

I  stooped  down  and  pulled  the  poor  fellow's  ragged  blanket  closer 
to  his  shivering  form.  And  he  smiled  again  : 

"  That  will  do,  mother,  that  will  do !" 

And  so,  turning  over,  he  passed  sweetly  into  rest,  and  was  borne 
up  to  the  presence  of  God  on  the  wings  of  a  pious  mother's 
prayers.1 

But  to  come  back  to  the  case  in  the  tent.     After  I  had  done  all  I 
could  for  the  dying  man,  and  had  shaken  his  hand  in  farewell,  I 
turned  to  leave  the  tent.     Who  should  meet  me  at  the  door  but  the 
old  Irishman  ?    He  looked  very  queerly.     There  was 
certainly  something  the  matter  with  him.     He  was       „ 
scratching  his  head,  pulling  at  his  beard,  and  other 
wise  acting  very  strangely  ;  but  I  did  not  take  much  notice  of  him, 


1  Kev.  E.  P.  Goodwin,  Pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church,  Columbus,  Ohio, 
narrates  a  story  related  to  him  by  Inspector  Eeed  of  the  U.  S.  Sanitary  Commis 
sion  in  the  Western  Department,  which  beautifully  illustrates  the  law  or  charac 
teristic  of  which  Rev.  Mr.  Mingins  speaks  : — "  A  number  of  wounded  lay  out  at 
Elizabeth,  Ky.,  literally  in  the  mud,  and  utterly  uncared  for.  The  Sanitary 
Commission  sent  an  agent  down,  with  beds,  clothing,  &c.  Among  the  neglected 
men  was  a  sick  youth,  who,  while  he  was  being  cared  for,  was  entirely  uncon 
scious  of  it.  In  the  morning,  when  the  Surgeon  came  around,  he  found  the  suf 
ferer  very  much  brightened  up.  He  spoke  to  him  pleasantly.  The  little  fellow 
was  entirely  bewildered.  He  had  looked  around,  and  found  clean  sheets  and 
bedding,  and  something  to  read  at  the  head  of  his  cot.  By  and  bye,  after  rubbing 
his  eyes  and  getting  the  mist  away,  he  spoke  out  in  a  kind  of  faint  whisper :  '  Oh 
yes, — I  guess — I'm  better.  Somehow  it  seems  as  if  mother  had  been  here.' " 


24  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

as  I  had  been  so  solemnly  engaged.  He  came  up  to  me  and  clasp 
ing  my  hands,  said — 

"  Be  me  sowl,  sir,  ye're  no  humbug,  anyhow." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  haven't  I  watched  ye  ivery  day,  as  ye've  been 
goin'  through  the  tint,  carin'  for  the  byes?  An'  ye've  been  loike  a 
mother  to  ivery  wan  uv  thim.  Thanks  to  ye,  Chaplain,  thanks  to 
ye,  and  may  God  bliss  ye,"  he  repeated,  as  he  again  wrung  my 
hand.  "  And,"  said  he,  "  ye  do  all  this  for  nothin'.  The  byes  've 
been  tillin'  me  about  ye." 

"  Oh,"  said  I,  "that's  a  mistake." 

"  Well,  now,  how's  thot?  They've  been  tillin'  me,  ye  wur  a  Pris- 
bytharian  ministher,  an'  thot  ye  came  away  from  yere  home  down 
here,  for  the  love  ye  had  for  the  byes.  But  ye  don't  do  it  for 
nothin',  eh?  Who,  thin,  pays  ye — the  Guvermint?" 

"  No.  If  it  had  to  pay  me,  it  would  take  a  great  deal  more 
money  than  it  can  spare." 

"  Well,  does  the  Commission  pay  ye?" 

"  No." 

"  Well,  thin,  av  the  Guvermint  doesn't  pay  ye,  nor  the  Commis 
sion  doesn't,  who  does  pay  ye  ?" 

I  looked  the  man  straight  in  the  eyes  and  said — 

"  That  honest,  hearty  grasp  of  the  hand,  and  that  hearty  '  God 
bless  you,'  are  ample  reward  for  all  that  I  have  done  for  you.  Re 
member,  my  brave  fellow,  that  you  have  suffered  and  sacrificed  for 
me,  and  I  couldn't  do  less  for  you  now." 

He  was  broken  down.  He  bowed  his  head  and  wept,  and  then 
taking  me  by  the  hand  again,  said,  "  Shure  an'  av  thot's  the  pay  ye 
take,  why  thin,  God  bliss  yc  !  God  bliss  ye!  Ye'll  be  rich  uv  the 
coin  uv  me  heart  all  yere  days."  And  then,  after  a  few  minutes' 
pause,  he  added,  "An'  now,  Chaplain,  av  ye'lljist  give  us  the  shirt  an' 
the  dra'rs,  I'll  wear  thim  till  there's  not  a  thrid  uv  thim  lift." 

Rev.  George  Bringhurst  of  Philadelphia,1  who  still 
retains,  as  a  precious  memorial  of  the  war,  the  simple 
papers  which  designate  him  the  first  Delegate  of  the 

2  Rector  of  All  Saints'  Prot.  Episc.  Church,  Moyamensing,  Philadelphia. 


YORKTOWN.  25 

Commission,  narrates  the  series  of  incidents  which  fol 
low, — beginning  with  this  first  trip  to  the  army : 

In  how  many  instances  was  the  precious  Gospel  brought  to  the 
soldiers,  in  the  strains  of  music  set  to  Psalms  and  Hymns.  In  camp 
and  hospital,  on  march  and  field,  the  sweet  songs  of  Zion  wooed 
many  a  prodigal  back  to  the  Father's  loving  embrace. 
None  possibly  were  more  effectual  than  that  familiar 
hymn,  "  Rock  of  Ages."  We  heard  it  sung  for  the  first  time  in  the 
army,  on  the  beach  at  Fortress  Monroe,  by  some  Delegates  of  the 
Christian  Commission,  just  beneath  the  "  Lincoln  Gun."  Its  grateful 
truth,  borne  by  the  winds,  fell  upon  the  ear  of  a  soldier  on  the 
parapet ;  not  only  so,  but  touched  his  heart,  and  in  time  led  him  to 
build  on  the  "  Rock  of  Ages." 

Again,  we  heard  the  same  hymn  at  Yorktown,  sung  by  some  of 
the  same  Delegates.  After  its  singing,  as  we  were  returning  to  our 
quarters,  one  of  the  Delegates  was  overtaken  by  a  soldier,  who  be 
longed  to  the  "  Lost  Children."1  He  asked— 

"Won't  you  please  tell  me  how  I  may  be  built  on  the  '  Rock' you 
sang  about  ?  I  was  thinking  of  it  while  on  guard  the  other  day." 
He  told  his  story  in  brief:  he  was  from  New  York  City,  had  received 
his  mother's  dying  blessing.  Before  she  breathed  her  last,  she  sang 
this  hymn,  and  said — 

"  George,  my  son,  I  would  not  feel  so  badly  about  your  enlisting, 
if  you  were  only  built  upon  that  'Rock/" 

These  sacred  memories  were  revived  by  the  singing  of  the  hymn ; 
and  as  the  Delegate  and  soldier  knelt  on  the  dusty  road-side,  be 
neath  the  stars,  the  wanderer  lost  his  weariness  and  thirst  for  sin,  in 
the  shadow  of  the  "  Rock  of  Ages." 

Mr.  Bringhurst  continues, — for  it  is  better  to  antici 
pate,  than  to  break  the  unity  of  the  series : 

Eighteen  months  after  this  incident,  the  same  Delegate,  going  to 
Fortress  Monroe,  on  a  boat  which  had  as  part  of  her  passengers  a 
gay  and  happy  company  of  the  Signal  Corps,  conversed,  sang  and 


1  The  name  of  a  New  York  Eegiment, — "Enfans  Perdus." 


26  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

prayed  with  them.  He  related  to  them  the  foregoing  incidents,  sang 
"  Rock  of  Ages,"  and  retired  to  his  state-room.  Soon  after,  a  gentle 
tap  called  him  to  the  door,  where  he  found  a  tall,  graceful  Lieuten 
ant,  who,  with  tears  streaming  down  his  face,  said — 

"  O  sir !  I  could  not  let  you  go  to  bed  to-night  until  I  had  told 
you  what  you  have  done.  As  I  sat,  with  my  head  leaning  against 
a  spar,  and  listened  to  your  words  and  to  that  hymn,  you  brought 
back  my  dead  mother  with  all  her  prayers  and  love.  I  have  been 
a  wanderer  until  this  night,  and  now  by  God's  grace  I  want  to  hide 
myself  in  that  '  Rock  of  Ages.' m 

In  Rev.  Mr.  Bringhurst's  experience  at  Mill  Creek 
Hospital,  near  Fortress  Monroe,  occurred  the  two  follow 
ing  incidents : 

A  dying  soldier,  placed,  on  account  of  the  awful  nature  of  his 
disease,  in  a  tent  far  away  from  his  comrades,  when  asked  by  me,  if 
he  was  not  lonely,  replied,  with  his  hand  upon  his  Testament — 

"My  companion  is  here;  how  can  I  be  lonely?" 
Not  Lonely.  rpl  . 

Ine  same  night  he  passed  away  into  the  country 

wherein  there  shall  be  neither  sickness  nor  loneliness  any  more. 

"  I  know  not,  oh  !  I  know  not 

"What  social  joys  are  there  ; 
What  pure,  unfading  glory  ; 

What  light  beyond  compare. 
O  Garden  free  from  sorrow ! 

O  Plains  that  fear  no  strife  ! 
O  princely  Bowers,  all  blooming ! 

O  Realm  and  Home  of  life !"  2 

As  I  was  reading  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  St.  Luke's  Gospel,  audi 
bly,  one  Sunday  afternoon,  in  a  ward  of  the  hospital,  I  came  to  the 
words,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father." 


1  None  who  were  present  will  ever  forget  the  tearful  solemnity  which  fell  upon 
the  company,  when  these  little  stories  were  told  by  Mr.  Bringhurst,  in  the  hotel 
parlor,  one  evening  at  Washington,  when  the  Commission  was  gathered   in  that 
city,  for  its  last  anniversary. 

2  Rev.  Dr.  Neale's  translation  of  Bernard's  "  Celestial  Countrv." 


WILLIAMSBUKG.  27 

A  soldier  near  me  at  once  cried  out.  "  That's  me : 

"That's  me." 
that's  me." 

Going  to  his  side,  I  found  him  very  anxious.  I  pointed  him  to 
the  Father,  and  very  soon  he  gave  his  heart  to  Jesus. 

Two  years  later,  he  laid  down  his  life  at  Fredericksburg.  His 
path  meanwhile  had  been  like  that  of  the  just,  "shining  more  and 
more  unto  the  perfect  day." 

The  pursuit  of  the  enemy  retreating  from  York  town 
was  prompt  and  energetic.  On  May  4th,  the  place  was 
evacuated.  On  the  next  day,  Hooker,  Kearny  and 
Hancock  fought  the  battle  of  Williamsburg.  The  Union 
loss  was  nearly  2000  in  killed  and  wounded.  Nearly 
800  Confederates,  mostly  severely  wounded,  were  left  in 
the  hastily  evacuated  defences  of  Fort  Magruder.  The 
work  of  death  had  begun  in  earnest. 

Several  days  after  the  battle,  a  soldier  came  hurriedly  to  a  Chap 
lain's  tent,  with  the  message — 

"  Chaplain,  one  of  our  boys  is  badly  wounded,  and  wants  to  see 
you  right  away." 

Following  the  soldier,  writes  the  Chaplain,  I  was 

,  ,                                   ,  .  ,    ,  "Thank  God  for 

taken  to  a  cot  on  which  lay  a  noble  young  man.    He  ,  '  ... 

J                   J  such  a  mother ! 

was  pale  and  blood-stained  from  a  terrible  wound 

above  the  temple.     I  saw  at  a  glance  that  he  had  but  a  short  time  to 

live.     Taking  his  hand,  I  said  to  him — 

"  Well,  my  brother,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

The  poor,  dying  soldier  looked  up  in  my  face,  and  placing  his 
finger  where  his  hair  was  stained  with  blood,  said — 

"Chaplain,  cut  a  big  lock  from  here  for  mother, — mind,  Chap 
lain,  for  mother  /" 

I  hesitated  to  do  it.     He  said — 

"Don't  be  afraid,  Chaplain,  to  disfigure  my  hair;  it's  for  mother, 
and  nobody  will  come  to  see  me  in  the  dead-house  to-morrow." 

I  did  as  he  requested  me. 

"  Now,  Chaplain,"  said  the  dying  man,  "  I  want  you  to  kneel 
down  by  me  and  return  thanJcs  to  God." 


28  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"For  what?"  I  asked. 

"  For  giving  me  such  a  mother.  O  Chaplain,  she  is  a  good  mother. 
And  thank  God  that  by  His  grace  I  am  a  Christian.  Oh,  what 
would  I  do  now  if  I  wasn't  a  Christian  ?  '  I  know  that  my  Re 
deemer  liveth.'  I  know  that  His  finished  work  has  saved  me. 
And,  Chaplain,  thank  God  for  giving  me  dying  grace.  He  has 
made  this  dying  bed  '  feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are.'  Thank  Him 
for  the  promised  home  in  glory.  I'll  soon  be  there  —  where  there  is 
no  war,  nor  sorrow,  nor  desolation,  nor  death  —  where  I'll  see  Jesus, 
and  be  '  for  ever  with  the  Lord.'  " 

I  knelt  by  the  dying  man,  and  thanked  God  for  the  blessings  He 
had  bestowed  upon  him  —  the  blessings  of  a  good  mother,  a  Christian 
hope,  and  dying  grace.  Shortly  after  the  prayer,  he  said  — 

"  Good-bye,  Chaplain  ;  if  you  ever  see  mother,  tell  her  it  was  all 
well."1 

Dr.  Greene,  in  an  address  to  a  graduating  class  of 
Berkshire  Medical  College,  Pittsfield,  Mass.,  says  : 

Let  me  relate  one  incident  that  occurred  while  I  was  upon   the 

Peninsula,  during  the  bloody  campaign  of  last  summer.     At  the 

battle  of  Williamsburg,  in  the  edge  of  the  forest  skirting  the  field, 

a  soldier  was  struck  by  a  bit  of  shell  which  severed 

\amef"    '  ^ie  ^racn^a^  artery.     Faint  from  the  profuse  hem 

orrhage,  he  fell,  just  as  a  Surgeon  was  riding  rapidly 

past  towards  the  front  to  get  orders  for  establishing  a  hospital  at  a 

certain  point.     The  poor  fellow  had  just  strength  to  raise  his  bleed 

ing  arm  and  say  — 

"  Doctor,  please."  The  Surgeon  dismounted,  and  rapidly  ligated 
the  vessel,  applied  a  compress  and  bandage,  and  administered  a 
cordial.  As  he  turned  to  go  away  the  man  asked  — 

"  Doctor,  what  is  your  name  ?" 

"No  matter,"  said  the  Surgeon,  and  leaping  on  his  horse,  dashed 
away. 

"  But,  Doctor,"  said  the  wounded  man,  "  I  want  to  tell  my  wife  and 
children  who  saved  me." 


1  See  p.  95. 


TO    RICHMOND    AND    BACK.  29 

The  march  towards  Richmond  was  a  slow  one.  Rain 
fell  frequently ;  the  roads  were  horrible ;  so  that  Gen. 
McClellan's  headquarters  did  not  reach  White  House 
until  May  16th,  nor  Cold  Harbor  until  the  22d.  The 
first  collision  between  the  hostile  armies  occurred  May 
24th,  near  New  Bridge.  On  the  27th,  the  battle  of  Han 
over  Court  House  was  fought  by  Fitz  John  Porter ;  and 
on  the  last  day  of  the  month  occurred  Fair  Oaks,  or 
Seven  Pines. 

Gen.  Lee  had  now  succeeded  to  the  chief  command  of 
the  Confederate  forces  in  Virginia.  The  month  of  June 
passed  almost  to  its  close,  and  very  little  seemed  to  have 
been  done.  The  sluggish  Chickahominy  with  its  miry 
swamp  bottom  was  sending  pestilence  through  the  Union 
ranks.  The  Confederate  commander  determined  to 
strike  a  decisive  blow.  The  battles  of  Mechanicsville 
and  Games'  Mills  followed  each  other  in  quick  succes 
sion  ;  Gen.  McClellan  decided  to  retreat.  White  Oak 
Swamp  and  Glendale  closed  the  month.  The  struggle 
of  Malvern  Hills  on  July  1st,  though  resulting  in  the 
complete  repulse  of  the  enemy,  was  followed  by  the 
retreat  of  the  Union  Army  to  Harrison's  Bar. 

The  Delegates  of  the  Commission  were  as  busy  as  pos 
sible  with  the  limited  means  at  their  disposal,  through 
out  these  terrible  scenes.  Mr.  Chas.  Demond,1  of  Boston, 
relates  the  following : 

A  Delegate  found  sixty-five  men,  sick  and  wounded,  lying  on  the 
second  floor  of  a  barn,  just  under  the  roof.  The  Virginia  sun  was 
pouring  upon  the  building,  but  a  few  feet  above  their  heads,  with 


1  One  of  the  original  members  of  the  Commission,  who  throughout  the  war 
paid  personal  attention  to  its  extensive  and  varied  interests  in  New  England. 
The  extract  is  from  Mr.  Demond's  Williams  College  Alumni  Address,  pp.  24,  25. 


30  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

July  heat.      They  were  suffering  much.     The  Dele- 
,„          "  gate  gave  them  some  delicacies,  and  then  asked  the 

soldier-nurse  to  wash  their  hands  and  feet. 
"  I  did  not  enlist  to  wash  men's  feet,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Bring  me  the  water,  then,  and  I  will  do  it."     The  water  was 
brought,  and  the  gentleman  washed  the  heads  and  hands  and  feet  of 
the  sixty-five  suffering  men. 

Mrs.  Harris,  who  was  freely  helped  from  the  Com 
mission  stores,  during  this  campaign,  writing  from  near 
Savage's  Station,  June  22d,  says : 

Passing  a  forlorn-looking  house,  we  were  told  by  a  sentinel  that  a 
young  officer  of  a  Maine  regiment  l  lay  within,  very  sick.     In  a  cor 
ner,  on  a  stretcher,  we  found  him,  an  elegant-looking  youth,  strug 
gling;  with  the  last  enemv.    His  mind  wandered,  and 
In  the  Battle  ,    . 

,    j.  as  we  approached  him,  he  exclaimed — 

"Is  it  not  cruel  to  keep  me  here,  when  my  mother 
and  sister,  whom  I  have  not  seen  for  a  year,  are  in  the  next  room  ? 
They  might  let  me  go  in." 

Once  for  a  moment,  he  seemed  to  have  a  glimpse  of  his  real 
condition.  Drawing  two  rings  from  his  finger,  placed  there  by  a 
loving  mother  and  sister,  he  handed  them  to  an  attendant,  saying — 

"  Carry  them  home."  A  moment  more  and  he  was  amid  battle 
scenes,  calling  out,  "  Deploy  to  the  left."  "  Keep  out  of  that  ambus 
cade."  "  Now,  go,  my  braves,  double  quick,  and  strike  for  your  flag." 
"On,  on,"  and  he  threw  up  his  arms  as  if  cheering  them  ;  "you'll 
win  the  day." 

His  very  last  words  were  about  his  men.  A  graduate  of  Water- 
ville  College,  some  twenty  of  his  company  were  from  the  same  in 
stitution;  this,  in  a  measure,  accounted  for  his  deep  interest  in 
his  soldiers.  He  was  an  only  son;  the  thought  almost  choked  us, 
as  we  whispered  a  few  sentences  of  God's  Book  into  his  ear.  He 
looked  up,  smiling  thankfully  ;  but  his  manner  betokened  no  under 
standing  of  the  sacred  words. 


1  Lieut.  Col.  Wm.  S.  Heath. 


GAINES'    MILLS.  31 

Here  is  a  memorial  of  Games'  Mills : 

Two  wounded  brothers  were  brought  to  Savage's  Station  and  laid 
at  the  foot  of  a  tree.  When  found  by  a  friend,  their  arms  were  en 
twined  about  each  other,  and  they  were  trying  to  administer  mutual 

comfort.  They  talked  of  loved  ones  at  home,  of  their 

.        .  J  „  ..  .       !        ,.  ,  "Poor    little 

longings  to  see  mother;  then  of  the  service  in  which       j^o&'s    asiee  » 

they  had  been  engaged,  and  their  love  of  country. 
They  prayed  for  each  other,  and  for  their  friends  far  away,  and  espe 
cially  that  mother  might  be  comforted.  In  a  little  time  the  younger 
went  up  home  ;  the  survivor,  blind  from  a  shot  in  the  face,  knew  it 
not,  but  continued  to  speak  encouraging  words  to  him.  No  response 
being  made,  he  said  in  a  pleased,  gentle  way — 

"  Poor  little  Hob's  asleep." 

In  a  few  minutes  more  he  too  slept — and  awoke  with  his  brother. 

The  wounded  were  conveyed  to  White  House,  until 
that  place  was  evacuated.  Rev.  Chas.  H.  Corey,1  a  Del 
egate  here,  writes : 

I  assisted  in  taking  a  young  man  on  board  one  of  the  hospital 
steamers  at  White  House.  He  was  scarcely  nineteen  years  old.  I 
saw  that  he  was  dying,  and  watched  him  breathing  his  last.  As  I 
bathed  his  hands,  the  soldier  reached  up  his  arms, 
threw  them  round  my  neck,  and  drew  my  face  close 
down  to  his  own.  There  was  more  of  gratitude  and  affection  in  the 
simple  act  than  any  words  could  ever  have  told.  All  that  could  be 
known  of  him  was  that  his  name  was  Watkins.  Afterwards,  amid 
the  din,  a  low  murmur  of  talk  was  heard  from  his  dying  lips ;  but 
the  only  intelligible  words  were  something  about  "drill."  Poor 
fellow,  his  drilling  on  earth  was  done.  The  next  morning,  I  saw  him 
lying  in  the  dead-house.  All  unconscious  as  he  may  have  been,  there 
was  a  strangely  true  meaning  in  the  soldier's  words,  if  the  "  upper 
country"  be  indeed  a  place  of  growth  and  blessed  toil. 

The  following  account  was  given  by  the  soldier  him- 


~astor  of  Baptist  Church,  Seabrook,  N.  H. 


32  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

self  to  the  German  Agent  of  the  Commission  in  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  some  time  subsequent  to  the 
occurrence : 

George  Greedy,  of  Co.  C,  3d  Pennsylvania  Reserves,  had  received 

a  pocket  Testament  from  the  ladies  of  Bucks  county,  when  he  took 

his  departure  from  home.     It  had  these  inscriptions:  Psalm  xci.  11 : 

"  He  shall  give  His  angels  charge  over  thee  to  keep 

A  Testament  ^  ^    "  „    ^  Timoth     yi   12:   «Fij?llt  the 

saves  Life.  J  *~ .         , 

good  fight."     This  Testament  he  always  carried  in 

his  bosom  pocket,  In  the  battle  of  White  Oak  Swamp,  a  minie  ball 
passed  through  his  left  arm,  shattering  the  bone  severely;  then, 
through  his  coat  into  the  Testament,  splitting  it  from  Revelation  to 
St.  John's  Gospel,  llth  chapter;  passing  out,  the  ball  wounded  him 
slightly  in  the  stomach.  But  for  his  Testament,  he  would  have  been 
killed  on  the  spot.  I  asked  him  to  give  me  the  book  to  show  to  the 
committee  of  the  Commission.  He  willingly  assented,  but  added — 
"  I  would  never  sell  it,  for  it  saved  my  life." 

Mr.  John  Patterson's1  graphic  account  of  White 
House  Christian  Commission  "  Station,"  in  June,  just 
before  the  retirement  from  the  Peninsula,  will  form  a 
fitting  close  to  the  chapter : 

We  had  two  tents  and  a  cook-shed ;  one  tent  for  sleeping  in,  the 

other  for  storage.     We  were  three  Delegates  of  the  Commission, 

assisted  by  a  young  convalescent  soldier,  and  cooked  for  by  a  negro 

boy  and   woman,  wrhose  hoe-cakes  were  our  great 

The  Cnmmis-      soiace  three  times  a  day.     We  worked  in  pairs  ;  two 

sion   Station   at          .   ,1      i         •,    i    .  \i  j    ,  ,   ,-\ 

,ir.  ,A    rr  at  the  hospital,  two  at  the  store-tent,  and  two  at  the 

White  House. 

cook-shed.  We  tolerated  no  drones  in  our  bee-hive. 
When  the  negro  boy  wras  not  employed  in  chopping  wood  and  carry 
ing  water  for  Dinah,  he  was  regaling  himself  and  a  circle  of  select 
admirers  with  a  genuine  Virginia  "breakdown ;"  and  when  Dinah  had 


1  Of  Philadelphia.  An  earnest  and  indefatigable  Delegate  of  the  Commission, 
from  the  beginning  to  the  close  of  its  work.  The  extract  is  from  "Hospital  Re 
collections,"  a  series  of  papers  published  in  the  Presbyterian,  of  Philadelphia. 


WHITE    HOUSE.  fc  33 

fixed  up  all  the  odds  and  ends  about  the  tents,  she  began  manufac 
turing  corn-starch,  in  huge  cauldrons-full,  five  or  six  times  a  day. 
The  two  store-keepers  were  kept  busy  from  morning  to  night  by  a 
hungry-looking  crowd,  which  we  called  the  "staff  brigade,"  who 
begged  for  themselves,  and  their  comrades  incapable  of  locomotion. 
Supplies  were  here  dispensed  in  the  shape  of  shirts,  drawers,  hand 
kerchiefs,  books,  papers,  combs,  soap,  pickles,  sugar,  tea,  bread,  and 
nearly  everything  eatable,  wearable  and  usable  to  be  found  in  a 
regular  "  Yankee-notion"  country  store. 

But  the  two  itinerants  had  the  most  exacting  and  delicate  duties. 
It  was  theirs  to  visit  the  sick  and  dying,  to  bear  them  little  comforts; 
to  cheer  the  despondent ;  to  soothe  the  agony  of  some,  the  last  mo 
ments  of  others ;  to  play,  as  occasion  required,  the  parts  of  nurse, 
physician  and  clergyman.  Evening  brought  no  rest.  The  semi-sec 
ular  employments  of  the  day  gave  place  to  the  religious  labors  of 
the  night,  and  so  pleasant  and  blessed  were  these,  that  we  longed 
for  the  evening,  when  we  could  meet  the  eager  congregations. 

We  began  early,  and  ended  late — so  that  more  than  once  we  paid 
the  penalty  of  our  protracted  devotion,  in  arrest  by  the  night  guards, 
whose  duty  required  them  to  stop  all  stragglers.  But  the  young 
Delegates  were  well  known  and  easily  recognized,  and  no  authority 
would  cage  them.  Such  meetings,  too,  as  we  enjoyed,  would  repay 
one  for  an  occasional  arrest,  and  for  the  dark  and  muddy  walks  by 
which  they  were  reached. 

After  a  short  sermon,  studied  between  our  tent  and  the  church, 
came  a  prayer  and  inquiry  meeting.  This  was  open  to  all.  One 
after  another  would  lead  in  prayer,  testify  to  a  newly-found  faith,  or 
make  an  exhortation  to  his  comrades.  Some  were  hoary-headed  sin 
ners;  others  mere  boys.  Some  would  flounder  painfully  as  they  tried 
to  express  their  feelings,  frequently  bursting  into  tears ;  while  others 
would  charm  with  the  simplicity  and  power  of  their  native  elo 
quence.  From  such  men  we  had  no  difficulty  in  securing  an  effective 
corps  of  tract  distributors.  Every  morning  a  number  of  bronzed 
faces  would  look  in  at  our  tent  door,  and  then,  supplied  with  loads 
of  tracts,  papers,  hymn  books,  &c.,  the  men  betook  themselves  to  the 
different  houses  and  tents,  and  to  the  camp  of  the  "Lost  Children." 

One  day,  the  quiet  was  disturbed  by  the  thunder  of  distant  can 
non.  Soon  after  stragglers  from  the  front  came  in;  then  a  battery 


^   CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

of  field  artillery  which  had  desolated  the  path  of  the  advancing 
enemy.  Then  came  the  order  to  break  up  the  hospital  as  soon  as 
possible,  which  was  interpreted  to  us  to  mean  twelve  hours.  That 
evening,  all  who  could  walk  or  hobble  to  our  tents  were  there.  We 
distributed  our  entire  remaining  stock.  Farewell  addresses,  de 
livered  by  two  of  us,  were  answered  by  the  hearty  cheers  of  our 
audience,  and  the  whole  was  concluded  with  a  hymn. 

In  the  middle  of  July  began  the  retreat  from  Harri 
son's  Landing.  The  points  of  embarkation  were  New 
port  News,  Fortress  Monroe  and  Yorktown.  Gen. 
McClellan  reached  Acqnia  Creek  on  the  24th.  Thus 
ended  the  unfortunate  campaign  of  the  Peninsula. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES. 

FROM    POPE'S    BATTLES    UNTIL    HOOKER    TAKES   COMMAND. 
July  1862— January  1863. 

WHILE  McClellan  was  before  Richmond,  Major  Gen 
eral  Pope  was  assigned  to  the  command  of  the  three 
corps  of  McDowell,  Banks  and  Sigel.  The  first  inten 
tion  had  been  to  advance  upon  Richmond,  while  cover 
ing  Washington  and  protecting  Maryland ;  but  the  result 
of  the  Seven  Days'  Battles  frustrated  this  design.  To 
secure  co-operation  between  the  two  armies,  Major-Gen 
eral  Halleck  was  called  to  Washington,  as  commander- 
in-chief.  General  Pope's  object  now  was  to  effect  a 
diversion  in  favor  of  the  army  retiring  from  the  Penin 
sula.  After  some  cavalry  movements  to  sever  commu 
nication  between  Richmond  and  the  Shenandoah,  Gen. 
Banks,  early  in  August,  occupied  Culpepper.  Pushing 
forward  from  that  place,  he  was  met  at  Slaughter's  or 
Cedar  Mountain,  on  August  9th,  by  a  vastly  superior 
force  of  the  enemy  under  Jackson,  and  after  a  desperate 
encounter  compelled  to  retreat  with  severe  loss.  On  the 
1 8th,  Pope  withdrew  to  the  north  side  of  the  Rappahan- 
nock.  Jackson  soon  after  moved  into  the  Shenandoah, 
and  then  through  Thoroughfare  Gap  into  Pope's  rear. 
Some  blind  manoeuvring  followed  in  an  attempt  to  cut 

35 


36  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

off  his  retreat,  which  brought  on  the  second  battle  of 
Bull  Run,  August  29th.  Gainesville  and  Chantilly  were 
fought  immediately  afterwards.  Pope's  retreat  to  Cen 
tre  ville  began  on  September  1st.  As  soon  as  the  army 
had  been  drawn  back  within  the  Washington  entrench 
ments,  he  resigned.  The  command  again  devolved  on 
Gen.  McClellan. 

Rev.  Chas.  H.  Corey,1  after  the  evacuation  of  White 
House,  had  hastened  to  Warrenton,  and,  with  several 
others,  met  there  the  wounded  from  Cedar  Mountain, 
rendering  them  signal  service. 

During  the  final  retreat  he  came  upon  four  car-loads  of  wounded, 

who  would  have  fallen  into  the  enemy's  hands,  if  he  had  not,  with 

such  assistance  as  the  wounded  could  themselves  render,  rolled  the 

four  cars  with  their  living  freight  of  mangled  men, 

over  four  miles,  to  a  point  where  locomotives  took 
Delegate. 

them.  In  doing  this  he  wore  his  shoes  entirely  oft, 
and  came  afterwards  into  Fairfax  C.  H.  barefoot. 

The  scene  at  Fairfax  Station  was  sorrowful  indeed.     There  were 

literally  "acres"  of  wounded  men,  many  of  whom  had  tasted  neither 

food  nor  drink  for  one  and  two  days.     The  Commission  had  not  yet 

learnt  how  to  equip  its  Delegates.2     In  Washington 

The  Wounded      ^       couM  find  n()  bucketSj  and  were  obliged  to  sub- 

at  Fairfax  Sta- 

stitute   butter-tubs.     Having   no   lanterns,    as   they 

went  over  the  doleful  ground  after  nightfall,  one 
hand  must  serve  as  candlestick,  the  other  as  ministrant.  The  Dele 
gates  filled  their  "tubs"  with  coffee,  as  fast  as  the  "contraband" 
charged  with  its  preparation  could  distill  it,  and,  candle  in  hand,  went 
from  man  to  man,  distributing  the  refreshing  drink  with  soft  crack- 


1  See  p.  31. 

2  The  outfit  of  a  Delegate,  for  any  point  whence  he  was  liable  to  be  called  to 
the  "front,"  afterwards  consisted  of  rubber  and  woolen  blankets,  haversack,  straps, 
canteen,  two  woolen  shirts,  blanks,  badge  and  memorandum-book.   The  Base  and 
Field  Stations  were  kept  supplied  with  other  articles  of  service,  which  were  not 
BO  easily  carried. 


NOT  ENEMIES. 


Page  37. 


POPE'S    BATTLES.  37 

ers,  until  before  the  morning  dawned  all  had  been  served.  About 
seven  hundred  were  lifted  aboard  the  box-cars;  the  helpless  carefully 
carried  and  laid  inside  on  the  floor  spread  with  hay;  while  those  who 
could  walk  were  arranged  on  the  car-roofs.  So  the  wounded  were 
borne  on  to  Washington. 

Mr.  James  Grant,  of  Philadelphia,  who  labored  among 
the  men  at  Fairfax  Station,  tells  this  story  of  a  Testa 
ment : 

I  was  busy  removing  the  bloody  garments  from  a  wounded  Union 
soldier.     In  his  pocket  I  found  a  small  book ;  taking  it  out  to  ascer 
tain  his  name,  I  discovered  that  it  was  a  Testament.     On  opening  it, 
to  my  surprise,  I  found  the  name  of  a  North  Caro 
lina  soldier.    I  inquired  how  he  came  to  have  it.    He 
told  me  that  he  was  disabled  at  Hanover  C.  H.,  and       YOU" 
lay  on  the  field  nearby  a  severely  wounded  Rebel,  who 
was  crying  piteously  for  water.    Desirous  of  relieving  the  poor  fellow's 
thirst,  he  crawled  to  a  stream,  filled  his  canteen,  and  returning  held 
it  to  the  dying  man's  lips,  while  he  greedily  drained  its  contents.     In 
return,  the  North  Carolinian  took  out  his  Testament,  and  handing  it 
to  the  Union  soldier,  said — 

"  I  have  no  way  to  thank  you  for  this,  but  to  give  you  the  thing  I 
love  best  of  all, — my  precious  Testament." 

In  an  hour  afterwards,  the  grateful  sufferer  was  silent  and  without 
thirst  in  death.  The  "  precious  Testament"  will  be  an  heirloom  in 
the  family  of  the  Union  soldier, — a  sacred  memento  of  Christian 
love  in  scenes  of  hate  and  carnage. 

Col.  James  C.  Rice,  of  New  York,  whose  noble  Chris 
tian  death  we  shall  hereafter  be  called  to  chronicle,1  tells 
this  story  of  his  interview  with  a  dying  sergeant,  in  a 
Washington  hospital,  about  ten  days  after  the  battle  of 
Bull  Run : 

As  I  was  passing  through  the  numerous  wards,  viewing  with  feel- 


1  See  p.  247. 


38  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

ings  of  sympathy  and  pride,  the  mutilated  but  uncomplaining  pat 
riots,  two  strangers— a   sister   and   an   aunt   of  one  of  the  young 
heroes — accosted  me  to  ask  if  I  would  be  so  kind  as 
The  Sergeant1  a       ^  ^^^  by  the  couch  of  their   relative,  while   the 

Surgeon  re-amputated  his  limb, — an  operation  on 
which  his  only  chance  for  life  depended.  They  were  both  weeping, 
but  the  wounded  soldier,  though  suffering  intensely,  smiled  as  he 
gave  me  the  military  salute.  I  sat  down  by  his  couch,  and  took  his 
hand  in  mine.  He  told  me  that  he  was  a  Sergeant  in  the  5th  New 
York,— Duryea's  Zouaves  ;  that  he  was  wounded  late  in  the  action, 
left  upon  the  field,  and  remained  where  he  fell  from  Saturday  until 
•  the  following  Wednesday,  "with  no  food  save  a  few  hard  crackers  left 
in  my  haversack,  and  with  no  water  save  that  which  God  gave  me 
from  heaven,  in  rain  and  dew,  and  which  I  caught  in  my  blanket." 
After  a  paroxysm  of  suffering,  the  Sergeant  continued  : 
"You  know,  Colonel,  how  God  always  remembers  us  wounded 
soldiers,  with  rain,  after  the  battle  is  over,  when  our  lips  are  parched 
and  our  tongues  are  burning  with  fever.  On  Wednesday,  I  was 
found  by  a  Surgeon,  who  dressed  my  wound  and  sent  me  in  an  ambu 
lance  to  Washington.  I  arrived  there  late  on  Thursday  evening, 
my  limb  was  amputated,  and  I—  The  Sergeant  again  paused  in 
his  story,  and  I  begged  him  not  to  go  on.  I  noticed  that  his  voice 
became  weaker,  and  his  face  more  pale  and  deathlike ;  a  moment 
afterwards,  blood  began  to  trickle  down  upon  the  floor  from  the  rub 
ber  poncho  on  which  he  was  lying.  I  at  once  called  the  Surgeon. 
He  examined  the  limb,  and,  after  consulting  with  other  Surgeons, 
said  it  was  impossible  to  save  his  life ;  that  re-amputation  would  be 
useless ;  that  the  soldier  was  fast  sinking  from  exhaustion,  and  in  all 
probability  would  not  survive  the  hour.  They  desired  me  to  make 
known  their  decision  to  the  aunt  and  sister. 

With  such  language  as  a  soldier  might  command,  I  informed  them 
that  the  Sergeant  must  soon  rest.  Tears  filled  their  eyes,  and  they 
sobbed  bitterly ;  but  their  grief  was  borne  as  Christian  women  alone 
can  bear  such  sorrow — for  they  heard  the  voice  of  the  "Elder 
Brother"  speaking  to  them,  as  to  Martha : 

"  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life ;  he  that  believeth  in  Me, 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live." 

The  sister,  wiping  away  her  tears  and  offering  me  a  small  prayer- 


AFTER   SECOND    BULL    RUN.  39 

book,  asked  if  I  would  tell  her  brother  how  soon  he  must  go,  and 
read  to  him  "  the  prayer  for  the  dying."  I  went  again  to  the  couch. 

"Sergeant,"  said  I,  "we  are  going  to  halt  soon — we  shall  not  march 
much  further  to-day." 

"Are  we  going  to  halt,  Colonel,  so  early  in  the  day  ?  Are  we  going 
into  bivouac  before  night  ?" 

"  Yes,  Sergeant,"  I  replied,  "  the  march  is  nearly  over — the  bugle- 
call  will  soon  sound  'the  halt.'" 

His  mind  wandered  for  a  moment,  but  my  tears  interpreted  my 
words. 

"Ah,  Colonel,"  he  said,  " do  you  mean  that  I  am  so  soon  to  die?" 

"  Yes,  Sergeant,"  I  said,  "  you  are  soon  to  die." 

"  Well,  Colonel,  I  am  glad  I  am  going  to  die — I  want  to  rest — the 
march  has  not  been  so  long,  but  I  am  weary — very  weary — I  want  to 
halt — I  want  to  be  with  Christ — I  want  to  be  with  my  Saviour." 

I  read  "the  prayer  for  the  dying,"  most  of  which  he  repeated; 
then  the  sister  knelt  beside  the  couch  of  her  brother,  and  offered  up 
to  God  a  prayer  full  of  earnestness,  love  and  faith.  The  life-blood 
of  her  dying  brother  trickled  down  the  bedside  and  crimsoned  her 
dress,  while  she  besought  the  Father  that  his  robes  might  be  "washed 
and  made  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb."  The  prayer  was  fin 
ished;  the  Sergeant  said  "Amen  ;"  we  stood  again  by  the  bed-side. 

"  Sister — aunt — do  not  weep  :  I  am  going  to  Christ ;  I  am  going  to 
rest  in  heaven.  Tell  my  mother,  sister, — "  and  the  soldier  took  from 
his  finger  a  ring  and  kissed  it — "  tell  my  mother,  sister,  that  this  is 
for  her,  and  that  I  remembered  and  loved  her,  dying." 

He  took  another  ring  from  his  hand,  kissed  it  and  said — 

"  Sister,  this  is  for  her  to  whom  my  heart  is  pledged ;  tell  her — tell 
her  to  come  to  me  in  heaven." 

"  Colonel,"  said  he,  turning  to  me,  his  face  brightening  with  the 
words,  "  tell  my  comrades  of  the  army — the  noble  Army  of  the  Po 
tomac — that  I  died  bravely, — died  for  the  good  old  flag." 

His  pulse  beat  feebler  and  feebler,  the  blood  trickled  faster  and 
faster,  the  dew  of  death  came  and  went,  and  rippling  for  a  moment 
over  the  pallid  face,  at  last  rested, — rested  for  ever.  The  Sergeant 
had  halted ;  his  bivouac  now  is  in  heaven. 

Chaplain  Brown,  of  Douglas  Hospital,  Washington, 


40  CHKISTIAX    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

gives  an  illustration  of  the  power  of  Christ's  presence  to 
make  the  soldier  happy  amidst  pains : 

"Chaplain,"  said  Sergeant  Me ,  "are  you  the  Chaplain  of  this 

hospital  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  I,  "  and  shall  be  glad  to  serve  you." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  we  have  a  Chaplain  here.     I'm 

"The Happiest      ^  }iappiest  man   you   ever  saw!"    and   his   whole 
Man  You  Ever  *  .  .    . 

Saw»  countenance  was  radiant  with  joy. 

"  How  is  that  ?"  I  replied.  "  You  have  lost  a  leg, 
and—" 

"  No  matter  about  my  leg,"  he  quickly  replied  ;  "  I  shall  have  both 
legs  in  heaven ;  I  tell  you  I'm  the  happiest  man  you  ever  saw,"  and 
bis  very  heart  seemed  to  leap  with  gladness. 

"  Well,  what  makes  you  so  happy  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  he  said.  "As  we  were  going  into  battle,  I  said  to 
myself,  '  this  is  serious  work ;'  so  I  prayed  God  to  spare  my  life  and 
pardon  my  sins ;  or  if  I  should  be  killed,  to  take  me  to  heaven. 
Presently  a  shell  struck  my  leg  below  the  knee,  and  I  just  lay  still 
and  prayed.  I  was  left  on  the  battle-field  all  that  night,  but  I  lay 
still  and  prayed.  O  Chaplain,  that  was  the  happiest  night  of  my  life!" 
and  again  his  countenance  was  lit  up  with  inexpressible  joy. 

"  How  could  you  be  happy  under  such  circumstances  ?"  I  asked 
again. 

"  Oh,  I  just  prayed,  and  Christ  seemed  to  come  and  stand  by  my 
side  all  night,  and  He  comforted  me ;  I  felt  sure  that  my  sins  were 
all  pardoned  and  washed  away  in  His  blood ;  and  I  do  tell  you, 
Chaplain,  that  I  forgot  all  about  my  wounds  for  the  moment :  it  was 
the  happiest  night  of  my  life." 

This  conversation  occurred  twelve  days  after  the  battle;  I  said — 

"And  you  feel  as  happy  still  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I'm  the  happiest  man  you  ever  saw." 

And  so  indeed  it  seemed.  He  lingered  several  days,  happy  all  the 
while ;  then  sweetly  fell  asleep  in  Jesus. 

Gen.  Lee  did  not  follow  McClellan  into  the  entrench 
ments  surrounding  Washington.  Joined  by  D.  H.  Hill's 
fresh  division  from  Richmond,  he  put  it  into  his  van  at 


ANTIETAM.  41 

Leesburg,  thence  crossed  the  Potomac  and  moved  on 
Frederick,  which  was  occupied  Sept.  6th.  McClel- 
lan  brought  his  army  hastily  to  the  north  of  Wash 
ington,  and  on  the  12th,  after  a  brisk  skirmish,  entered 
Frederick;  the  main  body  of  the  Confederates,  two  days 
before,  having  gone  west.  On  the  14th,  the  battle  of 
South  Mountain  was  fought  with  Longstreet,  for  the 
possession  of  Turner's  Gap,  and  the  enemy  worsted. 
Jackson,  meanwhile,  recrossing  the  Potomac,  had 
hastened  to  Harper's  Ferry,  which  was  surrendered  to 
him,  the  day  after  South  Mountain,  with  12,000  pris 
oners.  Gen.  Lee  took  up  a  strong  position  along  An- 
tietam  Creek  in  front  of  the  village  of  Sharpsburg, 
and  here,  on  the  17th,  the  victory  of  Antietam  was 
gained,  after  one  of  the  bloodiest  days  of  the  war.  The 
official  reports  make  the  loss  of  killed  and  wounded 
between  11,000  and  12,000  on  each  side.  On  the  morrow 
the  shattered  armies  watched  each  other,  and  in  the 
evening  Lee  quietly  recrossed  the  Potomac. 

Immediately  after  South  Mountain,  several  Delegates, 
in  charge  of  four  ambulances,  well  filled  with  stores,  left 
Washington.  They  reached  Antietam  in  advance  of 
other  stores.  Other  Delegates  followed,  the  next  day, 
from  Philadelphia  and  Baltimore  via  Hagerstown  and 
Frederick ;  and  soon,  over  seventy  were  at  work  in  the 
hospitals  and  on  the  field.  Several,  at  the  "Stone 
Bridge,"  near  McClellan's  headquarters,  were  exposed, 
throughout  the  whole  day  of  the  battle,  to  the  fire  of 
the  enemy's  artillery.  Rev.  Archibald  Beatty,1  one  of 
these,  writes : 

1  Hector  of  Cranmer  (now  Trinity)  Prot.  Epis.  Chapel,  Philadelphia.     After 
wards  Chaplain  U.  S.  A. 


42  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

After  laboring  all  day  among  the  wounded,  amid  the  roar  of  can 
non,  with  shells  above  and  around  us,  at  eleven  o'clock,  completely 
exhausted,  I  lay  down  on  the  ground  among  the  wounded  to  rest.  I 

had  just  fallen  asleep  when  I  was  aroused  by  the  re- 
Songs   on   the  .  .          ,    .  ,  ,.          .       .,     .      n 

-n  ,,,   ,.  77  quest  to  visit  a  dying  soldier  who  desired  to  see  me. 

Battle-field.  J 

I  went  and  found  him  lying  in  a  wagon,  evidently 
near  his  end,  and  anxious  to  know  the  way  to  Christ.  As  briefly  as 
I  could  I  spoke  of  Jesus,  His  death,  His  love ;  and  then  raised  my 
voice  in  prayer.  As  soon  as  that  sound  went  out  upon  the  night  air 
over  those  thousands  of  wounded  men,  every  moan  and  groan  of  the 
sufferers  who  could  hear  was  hushed ;  and  in  the  solemn  stillness  I 
prayed  for  him,  so  soon  to  me«t  the  Judge,  and  for  his  comrades  about 
us.  After  the  prayer,  a  lady  sang  most  sweetly : 

"  In  the  Christian's  home  in  glory 
There  remains  a  Land  of  Eest, 
There  my  Saviour's  gone  before  me, 
To  fulfill  my  soul's  request." 

And  then  Mrs.  Harris  stooped  down  and  kissed  him.  We  left  him, 
and  early  in  the  morning,  when  we  returned,  we  found  a  kind  friend 
just  closing  his  eyes, — his  spirit  having  gone  away  to  be  with  Him  to 
whom  the  last,  grand  song  of  the  redeemed  shall  be  raised. 

Mr.  James  Grant  was  also  one  of  the  Delegates  on 
this  field  during  the  battle.  He  gives  the  following 
account  of  a  life  saved  : 

While  moving  around  amongst  the  wounded  of  Gen.  Sedgwick's 

Division,  on  the  night  after  Antietam,  my  attention  was  called  by  a 

disabled   officer  to  a  friend  of  his,  badly  wounded  in  the  face,  and 

lying  out  somewhere  without  a  covering.    Following 

his  directions,  and  throwing  the  rays  of  my  lantern 

towards  the  foot  of  a  wooden  fence,  I  soon  discovered  the  object  of  my 

search. 

He  was  a  Lieutenant  of  a  Pennsylvania  Regiment.1  The  ball  had 
entered  one  side  of  the  cheek  and  passed  out  at  the  other,  grazing 


First  Lieut.  Anthony  Morin,  Co.  D.  90th  P.  V.     Afterwards  Captain. 


ANTIETAM.  43 

his  tongue,  and  carrying  away  several  of  his  teeth.  His  face  was 
horribly  swollen,  and  he  could  not  speak.  On  asking  him  if  he  was 
Lieut.  M.,  of  Philadelphia,  he  assented  by  a  nod  of  his  head. 

It  was  raining  pretty  heavily  and  he  was  quite  wet ;  straw  was  pro 
cured,  a  bed  made,  and  he  was  left  for  the  night  as  comfortable  as 
possible.  During  the  next  two  days,  the  Surgeons  were  all  so  busy, 
that  his  wound,  which  had  been  hurriedly  dressed  on  the  field,  re 
mained  untouched ;  yet  he  showed  no  signs  of  impatience.  In  the 
inflamed,  wounded  condition  of  his  mouth,  nothing  could  be  passed 
down  his  throat.  On  the  third  day,  as  the  Surgeons  still  had  more 
to  do  than  they  could  manage,  we  assisted  them  in  washing  and  re 
dressing  wounds,  most  of  which  had  remained  untouched  since  the 
battle.  With  some  hesitation,  I  took  the  Lieutenant's  case  in  hand, 
and,  after  two  hours'  labor,  succeeded  in  cutting  away  his  whiskers 
and  washing  the  wound  pretty  thoroughly,  both  inside  and  outside 
the  mouth.  This  done,  and  all  the  clotted  blood  and  matter  cleared 
away,  the  swelling  abated,  and  he  began  to  articulate  a  little.  A 
day  or  so  afterward,  he  could  swallow  liquids ;  and  being  carefully 
washed  daily,  in  less  than  a  week  he  was  able  to  travel  to  Phila 
delphia. 

I  saAV  him  next  in  his  own  house.  Tears  of  gratitude  filled  his 
eyes  and  those  of  his  wife ;  and  it  amply  repaid  me  to  be  introduced 
to  Mrs.  M.  by  the  gallant  soldier,  as  "  the  man  who  picked  me  up  at 
midnight  and  dressed  my  wound,  when  I  had  given  myself  up  to  die." 

Another  of  Mr.  Grant's  reminiscences  shows  the 
warm,  unselfish  heart  so  often  belonging  to  our  soldiers, 
and  prompting  them  to  so  many  kindnesses,  even  sacri 
fices,  on  behalf  of  enemies : 

No  one  who  traversed  Antietam  battle-ground,  while  the  dead  lay 
unburied,  can  ever  forget  the  long,  deep  road  or  cut  which  ran  along 
the  edge  of  a  corn-field,  and  formed  a  natural  rifle-pit  for  the  Rebels 
during  the  fight.   The  impetuous  bravery  of  the  Irish 
Brigade  at  last  dispossessed  them,  though  only  after      nor  j,? 
very  severe  loss, — the  road  for  half  a  mile  being 
literally  covered  with  dead  and  wounded. 

The  disabled  from  this  vicinity  were  mainly  carried  to  a  farm- 


44  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

house  overlooking  the  bloody  ground.  We  found  them  suffering  and 
destitute.  Our  own  supplies  were  at  once  exhausted,  the  stock  of 
clothing  being  reduced  to  a  single  shirt.  Looking  round  to  discover 
the  most  needy,  I  observed  an  elderly  soldier  of  a  New  York  regi 
ment,  leaning  against  the  barn-door.  He  was  severely  wounded  in 
the  breast,  and  appeared  weak  from  the  loss  of  blood.  He  had  no 
shirt,  but  had  substituted  for  it  a  few  blood-soaked,  weather-hardened 
fragments  of  an  outer  coat. 

"  You  are  the  very  man  I  am  looking  for,"  said  I ;  "  nobody  could 
need  this  '  last  shirt'  more  than  you." 

His  reply  thrilled  me:  "I'm  much  obleeged  t'  ye,  sir,  but, — "  and 
he  pointed  to  a  spot  on  the  hill-side  near  by,  "  down  yonder  there's 
a  poor  '  Johnny' l  far  worse  off  nor  I  am,  an'  av  ye'll  plaze  t'  give  't 
till  me,  I'll  put  it  on  him  by-and-bye." 

I  handed  him  the  shirt,  and  its  benevolent  errand  was  soon  accom 
plished. 

Rev.  Robert  J.  Parvin2  had  charge  of  an  important 
part  of  trie  Commission's  operations  at  Antietam.  The 
following  incident  occurred  in  his  work : 

Three  or  four  clays  after  the  battle,  he  sent  out  Rev.  S.  W.  Thomas3 
and  another  Delegate,  to  search  for  wounded  men  who  might  be  lying 
neglected  on  the  field.  Walking  a  long  distance  over  the  bloody 

ground,  thirst  led  them  to  a  deserted  farm-house  for 

The  Scouting  ,TT1  „       ,   .    ,  .  , 

parti  water.     While  drinking  at  the  pump,  they  noticed 

lying  in  the  barn-yard  what  seemed  to  them  at  first 
bundles  of  rags.  Looking  closer,  they  were  found  to  be  the  bodies 
of  two  dead  soldiers.  Near  by  thirteen  living  men  were  discovered, 
— all  badly  wounded.  Word  was  at  once  sent  to  Sharpsburg,  the 
Commission  headquarters,  and  an  ambulance  came  down  with  Mr. 
Parvin  and  other  Delegates,  bringing  a  supply  of  needful  things.  It 
was  a  scene  not  easily  forgotten.  None  of  the  wounded  men  could 
move.  The  Delegates  carried  out  the  dead  from  among  the  living, — 


1  The  general  soubriquet  in  the  army  for  a  Confederate  soldier. 

2  Rector  of  St  Paul's  Prot.  Episc.  Church,  Cheltenham,  Pa.     Now  Secretary 
of  the  P.  E.  Evangelical  Education  Society. 

3  Of  Philadelphia  Conference,  Meth.  Episc.  Church. 


ANTIETAM.  45 

a  poor  Alabamian,  one  of  whose  legs  was  gone,  all  the  while  moan 
ing  out  in  a  despairing  voice,  "  Water !  water !  water !"  A  fire  was 
kindled  in  the  barn-yard ;  water  boiled,  and  tea  made.  Every  pos 
sible  ministry  of  mercy  was  performed  for  the  poor  men,  who  were 
nearly  all  Confederates.  Help  was  procured  from  a  regiment  near 
by,  and  all  were  moved  to  a  Field  Hospital  on  Michael  Miller's  farm, 
only  three-quarters  of  a  mile  away.  Had  they  remained  unattended 
one  night  more,  there  would  have  been  no  survivors. 

The  help  came  from  the  regiment  encamped  near,  in  the  following 
manner.     A  Captain  riding  by  was  attracted  by  the  ambulance  near 
the  barn.     Just  as  he  came  up,  Mr.  Parvin  was  kneeling  in  the  cow- 
yard,  praying  with  the  dying  Alabamian.   The  Cap 
tain  reined  in,  uncovered  his  head,  and  listened  rev-       -r,  •  a^ 

Prince. 

erently  to  the  petition.     In  answer  to  a  question,  the 
dying  soldier  said — 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  trust  is  in  the  Lord  Jesus." 

He  moaned  it  out  through  grooves  of  pain ;  the  whole  scene  was 
absolutely  wretched  with  filth  and  mire  and  pale,  pained  faces ;  yet 
out  of  the  midst  of  it  went  up  the  words  of  Christian  victory: 

"  My  trust  is  in  Jesus.     I'm  as  happy  as  a  prince." 

The  Captain,  awestruck  by  the  scene,  volunteered  all  the  needed 
help,  sending  ambulances,  and  afterwards  riding  over  again  to  see 
the  dying  man.  In  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Parvin,  he  confessed 
that  he  had  been  more  touched  by  what  he  had  beheld  in  that  barn 
yard,  than  by  all  the  sermons  he  had  heard  in  his  lifetime. 

Mr.  Demond's  Williams  College  Alumni  Address1 
contains  this  incident : 

After  the  battle  of  Antietam,  a  gentleman2  passing  over  the  field 
of  blood,  saw  a  man  washing  at  a  brook ;  as  he  came  near  he  recog 
nized  a  Doctor  of  Divinity,  the  Pastor  of  one  of  the  largest  Churches 
in  Philadelphia,  and  a  Delegate.  Said  he : 

"  Doctor,  what  are  you  doino-?"  A   Dwnity- 

™.  Doctor  Washing 

I  he  Doctor  straightened  up,  and  pointing  with  his      shirts 

finger,  said — 


1  See  p.  24. 
Rev.  Geo.  J.  Mingins,  a  Delegate. 


46  CHEISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Over  yonder,  are  six  hundred  wounded  men ;  most  of  them  lying 
in  the  bloody  shirts  in  which  they  were  wounded.  Our  shirts  are 
out,  and  we  shall  have  none  till  to-morrow  morning ;  so  I  thought  I 
would  take  a  few  of  the  worst  out  here,  and  wash  and  dry  them  in 
the  sun.  Do  you  think  there  is  any  harm  in  it  ?" 

Said  the  gentleman : 

"  Doctor,  I  know  God  has  blessed  you  abundantly,  in  your  work 
in  Philadelphia,  but  I  do  not  think  the  Master  ever  looked  upon  any 
act  of  your  life  with  more  pleasure  than  upon  this." 

"  I  believe  it,"  said  the  Doctor,  and  turned  to  his  washing. 

The  prospect  of  a  battle  often  induced  deep  solemnity 
in  the  army.  A  reminiscence  by  Rev  Geo.  J.  Mingins 
shows  that  the  retrospect  was  sometimes  very  solemn 
also : 

One  day  we  were  burying  some  poor  fellows  who  had  fallen  in  the 
battle,  and  a  soldier  was  helping  us.  He  told  us  how  he  had  passed 
through  the  fierce  conflict  unharmed  : 

"  For  which,"  said  he,  "  I  thank  God." 
Not  the  Rebels'          m 
Sad  Shooting"          Thank  the  rebels  for  being  such  bad  marksmen," 

said  a  man  near  us. 

The  soldier,  looking  him  in  the  face,  replied,  "I  ain't  no  Christian, 
God  knows ;  but  after  what  we  passed  through,  I  ought  to  be  a  better 
man.  You  may  think  as  you  like;  J  think  God  saved  me,  not  the 
rebels'  bad  shooting." 

Hospitals  for  the  Antietam  wounded  were  scattered 
thickly  over  Western  Maryland,  the  chief  one  remain 
ing  at  Sharpsburg.  They  were  visited,  as  long  as  they 
lasted,  by  the  Commission  Delegates.  The  Baltimore 
Committee,  in  whose  field  of  work  they  lay,  was  very 
active  in  its  exertions.  The  impressions  made  on  the 
wounded  rebels  by  the  care  taken  of  them  were  deep 
and  lasting.  Some  learned  to  look  upon  the  Southern 
sympathizers  who  visited  them  as  not  their  truest 
friends. 


ANTIETAM.  47 

In  one  instance,  while  members  of  the  Committee  were  standing 
by,  a  lady  approached  a  wounded  Confederate,  who  was  lying  between 
two  Union  soldiers.     One  leg  of  each  had  been  amputated.     The 
lady  said  to  her  friend — 
'"Here,  soldier,  I   have  brought  you   some  nice 

tl€S» 

things,  and  I  want  you  to  put  them  by  your  side ; 
and  don't  let  these  men  have  any  of  them." 

"  Madam,"  replied  the  suffering  man,  "  these  men  share  everything 
they  get  with  me,  and  if  I  cannot  share  what  you  give  me  with  them, 
I  cannot  take  it." 

Many  wounded  were  taken  to  Baltimore  after  the 
battle.  Rev.  R.  Spencer  Vinton,  Chaplain  of  McKim's 
Hospital  in  that  city,  relates  the  following  incident : 

Sylvester   McKinley,  of  Clarion   County,   Pennsylvania,   was   a 
noble-looking  youth,  of  fine  figure  and  intelligent  face.    He  had  lost 
his  left  arm  in  the  battle,  and  was  very  much  reduced  by  his  suffer 
ings.     When   brought   into   the   Hospital,  he   had 
neither  coat,  vest,  nor  hat.   The  Ladies  of  the  North      p.,, 
Baltimore  Union  Relief  Association  took  his  case  in 
hand,  and  spared  neither  means  nor  labors  in  his  behalf.     His  con 
dition  was  critical,  and  I  began  at  once  giving  him  religious  instruc 
tion.     I  learned  that  he  had  been  a  Sunday-school  scholar,  and  was 
quite  familiar  with  the  Bible.   He  received  my  assurances  of  Christ's 
interest  in  him  with  joy,  and  was  made  happy  in  the  belief  that  his 
ransomed  spirit  would  reach  its  rest  in  heaven.     I  visited  him  daily, 
and  always  found  him  with  his  Testament  in  hand  or  by  his  side.     I 
prayed  with  him,  and  had  the  strongest  assurance  of  his  confidence 
in  God.     A  faithful  nurse  was  ever  by  his  side. 

Near  the  last,  weakened  by  his  sufferings  and  fainting  from  ex 
haustion,  he  asked  the  nurse  to  hand  him  his  Testament.  He  read  a 
brief  passage,  and  closing  it  said  in  a  feeble  voice — 

"  Now,  nurse,  put  it  under  my  head." 

It  was  placed  as  he  desired,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  asleep  in 
Jesus. 

One  of  the  most  devoted  and  efficient  Delegates  of 


48  CHEISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

the  Commission  was  Eev.  I.  Oliver  Sloan.1  He  was 
of  the  original  party  which  went  to  Fortress  Monroe  in 
May,  1862,  remaining  on  the  Peninsula  until  McClel- 
lan's  army  was  withdrawn.  Among  the  first  at  Antie- 
tam,  he  continued  several  months  in  the  Maryland 
hospitals.  He  writes : 

Burnside  was  preparing  to  move  on  Fredericksburg,  and  all  who 

could  possibly  go  to  the  front  were  ordered  from  the  hospitals.    I  had 

become  very  much  interested  in  a  soldier  named  Monroe,  of  Co.  H, 

12th  Mass.  Eegimeut,  who  had  been  left  behind  very 

Christ,      the      ^^  w]ien  tjie  armv  moved  after  Lee.     Before  the 
Source  of  Cour- 
age  order  came  lor  all  who  were  well  enough  to  go  to  the 

front,  the  Surgeon  had  permitted  Monroe,  who  was 
sufficiently  recovered  for  such  service,  to  assist  me  in  my  hospital 
work.  He  was  only  nineteen,  but  I  found  him  a  ready  helper, — a 
faithful  Christian  in  all  his  conduct.  I  was  sorry  to  lose  him,  and 
especially  to  have  him  join  his  regiment  for  the  duty  of  an  able- 
bodied  man.  To  many  of  the  poor,  half-recovered  fellows  who  had 
been  left  behind  after  the  battle,  this  order  to  the  front  was  a  very 
death  knell,  I  was  not  sure  how  Monroe  himself  might  receive  the 
news.  His  answer  was  very  calm  : 

"  Why  should  I  be  away  from  my  regiment,  when  the  other  boys 
are  there  fighting  ?  My  life  is  no  more  valuable  than  theirs ;  and 
besides,  God  will  be  with  me,  and  I  needn't  fear.  I  shall  try  to  live 
near  Christ.  He  will  give  me  courage." 

Soon  after  joining  his  regiment,  he  wrote  to  tell  me  how  glad  he 
was  to  be  at  the  post  of  duty.  In  the  following  summer  he  lost  an 
arm  at  Gettysburg. 

A  long  "  quiet"  followed  Antietam.  It  was  not  until 
October  26th  that  the  army  crossed  the  Potomac.  On 
November  7th  Gen.  McClellan  was  relieved,  and  Gen. 
A.  E.  Burnside  assumed  command.  The  army  had  bv 


Connected  with  the  Fourth  (N.  S.)  Presbytery  of  Philadelphia. 


FKEDEKICKSBUKG.  49 

this  time  reached  Warrenton.  Gen.  Burnside  promptly 
moved  his  forces  down  the  Rappahannock  to  Fredericks- 
burg.  Gen.  Lee  kept  opposite  to  him  on  the  south  bank. 
Our  army  crossed  on  pontoons,  and  Dec.  13th,  assaulted 
the  Rebels  in  their  entrenchments  behind  Fredericks- 
burg.  Our  repulse  was  decisive  and  the  slaughter  terri 
ble.  The  battle  was  not  renewed,  and  on  the  night  of 
the  15th  the  entire  army  was  withdrawn  north  of  the 
river.  About  January  20th,  1863,  another  movement 
was  contemplated,  but  a  storm  prevented  it,  and  on  the 
28th  Gen.  Burnside  was  relieved.  Maj.  Gen.  Joseph 
Hooker  next  assumed  command. 

A  large  party  of  "  Minute  men"1  went  to  the  front 
after  the  December  battle,  under  the  direction  of  Rev. 
Alexander  Reed.2  Scenes  of  distress  met  them  on  every 
hand.  The  wounded  were  carried  in  ambulances  to 
Falmouth  Station,  to  await  transportation  to  Washing 
ton,  via  Acquia  Creek.  The  delays  at  these  points  of 
transferring  from  one  mode  of  conveyance  to  another 
were  wearisome  and  most  painful.  Just  here,  the  Com 
mission  work  after  this  battle  came  in  with  most  marked 
effect. 

The  New  York  Observer*  gives  the  following  incident 
of  Fredericksburg,  told  in  the  Fulton  Street  Prayer 
meeting : 

A  speaker  held  up  a  Testament,  stating  that  it  was  from  the  bat 
tle-field.  On  one  of  the  fly-leaves  was  this  record:  "Found  on  the 


1  "  Minute  men"  were  distinguished  from  the  regular  Delegates,  by  the  facts  of 
their  going  in  emergencies,  at  very  short  notice,  and  for  briefer  terms  of  service. 

2  Then  Pastor  of  (O.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Parkesburg,  Pa.— Now  of  the 
Central  Church,  Philadelphia. 

3  Of  March  19th,  1863. 

4 


50  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

battle-field  of  Fredericksburg,  December  16th,  at  2.  A.  M.,  while 

covering  the  evacuation  of  that  place,  by  P.  H.  B. 
William  Glo-       Taken   from   begide   a  dead   body>»     There  wag  eyi_ 

deuce  that  the  book  had  been  read  after  the  owner 
was  wounded.  It  was  found  lying  open.  On  the  fly-leaf  in  front  is 
this  inscription : 

"A  present  to  William  Glover,  from  his  sister  Maggy.  Read  this 
often." 

It  was  a  beautiful,  gilt-edged  Testament,  clasped,  and  bearing  the 
imprint  of  the  American  Bible  Society  in  1860. 

The  speaker  said :  "  I  find  the  Gospels  show  signs  of  much  read 
ing.  I  find  two  leaves  turned  down,  evidently  intended  to  mark 
these  passages :  'And  as  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness, 
even  so  must  the  Son  of  Man  be  lifted  up,  that  whosoever  believeth 
in  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life.  For  God  so  loved 
the  world  that  He  gave  His  Only  Begotten  Son,  that  whosoever 
believeth  in  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.' 

"  Then  I  find  another  leaf  turned  to  point  to  this  passage  in  St. 
Luke :  '  Ought  not  Christ  to  have  suffered  these  things,  and  to  enter 
into  His  glory?' 

"  Who  can  estimate  the  value  of  this  Testament  to  such  a  dying 
man  ?" 

Surely  no  earthly  arithmetic  can  calculate  it.  The 
Bible  Society  Record  narrates  a  similar  incident : 

Among  the  articles  returned  from  the  battle-field  with  the  dead 

body  of  a  young  soldier  from  one  of  the  Connecticut  regiments,  was 

a  Bible,  which  had  been  given  him  by  a  praying 

Testament^1  ^      mother.     On  examining  it  a  single  leaf  was  found 

turned  down  and  pointing  to  the  following  verse : 
"  There  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God  over  one  sin 
ner  that  repenteth." 

Revs.    Christopher   Gushing    and   F.    N.    Peloubet,1 


1  Pastors  then  respectively  of  Congregational  Churches  in  N.  Brookfield  and 
Oakham,  Mass.  Rev.  Mr.  Gushing  is  now  a  Secretary  of  the  Amer.  Cong.  Union. 


j  AFTER    FREDERICKSBURG.  51 

among  others,  took  care  of  the  wounded  in  Washington, 
as  they  arrived  from  JVedericksburg.  With  all  that  the 
Government  could  do,  the  bitter  weather  and  the  im 
mense  number  of  disabled  made  cases  of  extreme  desti 
tution  frequent.  Mr.  Gushing  writes : 

I  found  a  man  taking  a  rough  and  coarse  shoe  from  his  bosom, 
and  requesting  a  comrade  to  put  it  on  his  foot.  I  inquired  what  it 
meant,  and  found  that  he  had  no  means  of  warming  his  cold  foot, 
save  by  heating  the  shoe  in  his  bosom,  and  then 
putting  it  back  on  his  foot.  To  relieve  such  suffer-  The  Cold  Shoe. 
ing  was  indeed  a  blessed  ministry. 

I  asked  one  poor  fellow,  who  had  just  been  removed  from  the  boat, 
why  he  did  not  complain.     There  was  rare  fortitude 
iti  his  answer —  «  }yjiy       not 

"  We've  been,  sir,  where  it  did  no  good  to  com-      Complain?" 
plain." 

Sometimes,  as  we  removed  the  men,  we  found  them  wounded  in 
such  a  way  as  not  to  require  a  stretcher,  and  yet  it 

helped  them  greatly  to  put  their  arms  around  us,  or 

.  ._.  Crutches. 

have  ours  round  them.     Ihey  said  we  were  the  best 

kind  of  crutches. 

Rev.  Mr.  Peloubet  writes  of  the  same  work : 

The  soldiers  thought  they  must  pay  for  the  little  delicacies  given 
them. 

"  No  pay,"  said  I—"  free  as  the  Gospel." 

"  Soldiers  don't  have  much  of  that   kind,"   they 
answered. 

"  Well,  I  hope  you'll  like  the  Gospel  as  well  as  these  little  things." 

"Yes,"  said  some,  doubtfully,  "the  Gospel's  good  too."    But  others 
said  it  earnestly,  as  if  they  had  felt  it  deep  down  on  the  terrible  day. 

As  I  was  giving  some  soft  white  bread  to  the  hungry  hospital  men 
to-day,  one  of  them  laughed  out. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Who   wouldn't   laugh,"  said  he,  "  to  see  such 
bread." 


52  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

\ 

It  was  desirable  that  Mr.  Peloubet  and  Mr.  Gushing 
should  go  down  the  river ;  but  for  several  days,  during 
the  changes  in  front  of  Fredericksburg,  no  passes  could 
be  procured.  Mr.  Peloubet  tells  how  they  got  off  at 
last  and  what  came  of  it : 

We  had  tried  "  red  tape"  until  we  were  tired ;  and  to-day,  the 
Captain  of  a  boat  returning  to  Acquia  Creek  for  more  wounded,  who 
had  seen  us  working  on  the  transports  and  wharves,  invited  us  on 

board.     We  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.     The  boat 
The    Restless  ,  ,, 

„.  ht  was  carrying  down   a   large  company  ol  navvies  to 

work  for  the  Government.  There  were  no  accom 
modations  on  the  boat  for  us.  We  had  brought  along  bread  and 
apple-sauce,  whereof  we  eat  only  bread,  keeping  the  sauce  for  the 
soldiers.  The  men  on  board  passed  their  time  in  retailing  stories 
and  jokes.  The  placard,  "  Beware  of  pickpockets,"  elicited  an 
amusing  series  of  comments. 

"  It'll  take  two  to  pick  my  pockets,"  remarked  one. 

"  What  will  the  second  man  do  ?"  asked  another. 

"  Put  something  in  to  be  picked,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

We  took  turns  in  sleeping  and  watching  ;  no  longer  wondering  that 
soldiers  forget  Sunday,  for  we  already  doubted  about  where  and 
when  we  were. 

About  half-past  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  men  began  to 
wake  up,  hungry  and  noisy.  We  were  taking  down  with  us,  among 
other  stores,  two  bags  of  bread,  which  it  required  constant  vigilance 

to  protect.     The  noise  and  confusion  continued  to  in- 
Peace       after  A  ,    ,     ,    T  ,  .  0 

pnner  crease.     At  last  1  proposed  some  singing,     feo  we 

began  with  "  Shining  Shore,"  and  kept  on  with 
"Will  you  go?"  "Star-Spangled  Banner,"  "Red,  White  and  Blue," 
"Coronation,"  &c.  After  I  had  read  the  fourth  chapter  of 
Second  Corinthians,  Rev.  Mr.  Gushing  prayed,  and  made  some 
excellent  remarks.  To  our  joy  and  astonishment,  during  the 
prayer,  nearly  all  rose  and  uncovered  their  heads.  The  foreman,  in 
charge  of  the  party,  came  to  us  afterwards  and  told  us  that  he  was 
"  Head-devil "  among  the  men.  I  suggested  to  him  that  it  would  be 
better  if  he  were  Head-angel.  He  said  he  would  try  to  be,  and 


WASHINGTON.  53 

asked  for  some  singing  books,  which,  he  said,  would  be  of  special 
use  to  the  men  on  Sundays.  Nine  of  them  wanted  to  buy  Testa 
ments.  After  singing  a  few  more  melodies  we  reached  Acquia  Creek, 
and  had  no  difficulty  at  the  Provost-Marshal's  office  in  procuring 
passes  over  the  Government  road  to  the  front. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year,  the  chairman  of  the 
Commission,  in  one  of  his  frequent  army  visits,  came  to 
Washington.  In  a  public  address1  afterwards,  he  relates 
an  incident  of  his  Delegate's  work,  near  the  Capitol : 

I  have  visited  many  hospitals  and  camps,  and  have  distributed 
many  of  our  Commission  books ;  and  I  can  testify  that  from  the  be 
ginning  until  now  I  have  never  met  a  man  who  refused  them,  save 
one,  and  he  was  from  my  own  city — Philadelphia. 

I  do  not  believe  in  being  conquered.     I  never  give  Greater 

.  .         _      _  Includes      the 

up  anything  that  is  practicable.     But  here  was  a  case        ^m 

for  me !     The  man  told  me  that  he  was  an  infidel — • 

did  not  believe  in  my  books — did  not  need  them.     Said  he — 

"  I  am  from  Philadelphia ;  I  live  at  such  a  number,  Callowhill 
street ;  if  you  go  there  you  will  find  out  my  character,  and  that  I  am 
as  good  a  man  as  you  are." 

"  I  trust  a  great  deal  better,"  said  I. 

"Stuart,"  said  a  friend  to  whom  I  related  the  incident,  "you  are 
beaten  for  once." 

"  No,"  I  replied,  "  I'm  not  done  with  that  man  yet." 
I  approached  him,  shortly  afterwards,  again  ;  said  he — 
"  What  was  the  book  you  wanted  to  give  me  the  other  day  ?" 
I  told  him  it  was  a  selection  from  the  Scriptures,  called  Cromwell's 
Bible. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  want  your  Bible ;  I've  no  need  of  it ;  I'm 
a  good  enough  man  without  it,"  and  with  a  motion  of  supreme  in 
difference  he  turned  away  his  head. 

"  My  friend,"  said  I,  "  I'm  from  Philadelphia,  too  ;  I  know  where 
you  live, — can  find  the  exact  house.  On  next  Sunday  evening,  if 


A*  the  Washington  Anniversary  of  the  Commission,  Feb.  2d,  1864. 


54  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

(rod  spares  my  life,  I  expect  to  speak  for  the  Christian  Commission 
in  the  Church  of  the  Epiphany." 

He  looked  at  me  inquisitively, — "  And  what  are  you  going  to 
say?" 

"I  am  going  to  tell  the  people  that  I  had  been  distributing  tracts 
all  day  through  the  hospitals  and  camps,  and  that  I  found  but  one 
man  who  refused  to  take  them,  and  he  was  from  Philadelphia." 

"  Well,  what  more  are  you  going  to  say  ?"  the  man  asked,  with  a 
steady,  apparently  defiant,  gaze. 

"  I'll  tell  them,  I  began  my  distribution  in  the  morning  at  the 
White  House,  and  the  first  gentleman  to  whom  I  offered  one  of  the 
little  books  was  one  Abraham  Lincoln ;  that  he  rose  from  his  chair, 
read  the  title,  expressed  great  pleasure  at  receiving  it,  and  promised 
to  read  it ;  but  that  I  came  to  one  of  his  cooks,  here  in  these  quarters, 
who  was  so  exceedingly  good  that  he  didn't  need  a  copy  of  God's 
word,  and  wouldn't  have  one." 

"Well,"  said  the  man,  reaching  out  his  hand,  "if  the  President 
can  take  one,  I.  suppose  I  can." 

Rev.  H.  C.  Henries,  Chaplain  of  U.  S.  Gen.  Hos 
pital  at  Annapolis,  had  acted  as  the  Commission's  Agent 
in  Annapolis,  and  Parole  Camp  near  by,  from  the  time 
its  active  relief  work  was  begun.  His  only  compensa 
tion  was  the  assistance  afforded  him  by  occasional  Dele 
gates,  who  labored  under  his  direction  throughout  his 
immense  parish  of  disabled  men.  The  Holy  Spirit  was 
near  to  bless  the  work  done.  Rev.  R.  J.  Parvin,  who  at 
one  time  labored  thus  with  Chaplain  Henries,  communi 
cates  this  incident : 

One  morning,  towards  the  close  of  July,  1862,  Chaplain  Henries, 
passing  through  the  rooms  of  the  Hospital  at  the  Navy  Yard,  placed 
on  the  vacant  bed  of  a  soldier  a  single-paged  tract,  entitled,  Will  you 
It  was  a  copy  of  the  hymn  bearing  that  name. 


"/ 'will  Try  to  go."      T      «     ,  r 

Its  first  lines  read  : 


ANNAPOLIS.  55 

"  We're  travelling  home  to  heaven  above ; 

Will  you  go  ? 
To  sing  the  Saviour's  dying  love  ; 

Will  you  go  ? 

Millions  have  reached  that  blessed  shore, 
Their  trials  and  labors  all  are  o'er, 
But  still  there's  room  for  millions  more : 

Will  you  go?" 

Other  lines  of  it  read : 

"  The  way  to  heaven  is  straight  and  plain ; 
Will  you  go  ? 
Eepent,  believe,  be  born  again ; 

Will  you  go  ? 

The  Saviour  cries  aloud  to  thee, 
'  Take  up  thy  cross  and  follow  Me ; 
And  thou  shalt  My  salvation  see ;' 

Will  you  go?" 

Soon  after,  the  soldier  came  in  and  sat  down  on  his  bed.  He 
picked  up  the  hymn,  looked  at  the  title,  read  a  few  lines  of  the  invi 
tation,  and  threw  it  down.  Again  he  picked  it  up  and  read  a  little, 
then  threw  it  upon  the  floor.  But  the  invitation  he  was  so 
unwilling  to  hear  had  reached  him,  through  this  silent  messenger 
of  the  Lord.  Playing  with  the  tract  for  a  while  with  his  foot,  the 
soldier  picked  it  up  for  the  third  time,  and  now  read  it  carefully 
through.  It  was  thrown  down  no  more.  The  soldier  read  and  re 
read  it,  and  then  holding  it  a  while  thoughtfully  in  his  hand,  as  if 
listening  to  the  solemn  voice  speaking  to  him,  "  Will  you  go  ?"  he 
drew  a  pencil  from  his  pocket,  and  deliberately  traced  round  the 
margin  of  the  tract,  these  words — 

"  By  the  grace  of  God,  I  will  try  to  go.  John  Waugh,  Co.  G, 
10th  Eegt.  P.  E.  V.  C." 

A  soldiers'  prayer  meeting  was  held  that  night  in  the  Hospital. 
Waugh  came,  and  when  opportunity  was  given, — with  his  wounded 
arm  in  a  sling,  and  the  little  tract  in  his  other  hand, — he  told  his 
comrades  of  his  conflict  with  that  bit  of  paper.  He  read  the  pro 
mise  which  he  had  written  on  the  margin,  and  asked  all  to  pray  that 
he  might  keep  it  and  never  be  ashamed  of  his  Saviour,  adding — 


56  CHEISTIAN    COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

"  I'm  not  ashamed  of  Christ  now ;  but  I  am  ashamed  of  myself  for 
having  been  so  long  ashamed  of  Him." 

Some  months  later,  on  opening  my  morning  paper,  I  read  a  brief 
account  of  "A  skirmish  yesterday  in  Virginia.  Ten  persons  killed." 
Glancing  over  the  list  of  names,  I  stopped  at  this  one, — "  John 
AVaugh,  Co.  G,  10th  Regt.  P.  R." 

It  was  a  comfort  to  me  to  lay  down  my  paper,  take  up  the  little 
tract,  then  and  now  in  my  possession,  and  read  once  more  the 
pencilled  pledge  on  its  margin, — "  By  the  grace  of  God  I  will  try 
to  go." 

Since  then,  the  faithful  Chaplain,  who  laid  the  printed  page  upon 
the  soldier's  cot,  has  been  called  from  earth ;  and  there  is  good  reason 
for  believing  that,  now,  both  Chaplain  Henries  and  Private  John 
Waugh  know,  much  better  than  we,  the  full  import  of  these  other 
lines  of  that  hymn : 

"  We're  going  to  walk  the  plains  of  light ; 

Will  you  go  ? 
Far,  far  from  death,  and  curse,  and  night ; 

Will  you  go  ? 

The  crown  of  life  we  then  shall  wear, 
The  conqueror's  palm  we  then  shall  bear, 
And  all  the  joys  of  heaven  share ; 

Will  you  go?" 

Eev.  Geo.  Bringlmrst,1  writing  from  Annapolis,  Octo 
ber  27th,  1862,  gives  an  incident  which  illustrates  the 
power  of  the  cross  to  quell  even  the  worst  human  pas 
sions  : 

Arriving  at  Parole  Camp,  I  found  a  scene  of  fearful  insubordina 
tion,  caused  by  the  recklessness  of  a  few  inebriated  soldiers.   Several 
buildings  had  been  fired,  others  threatened  with  destruction.    Fiend 
ish  yells,  accompanied  with  bitter  oaths,  rent  the  air. 
b   the  Cross    '        while  ^-  companies  of  the  131st  New  York  and 
three  of  a  Maryland  Cavalry  Regiment,  made  des 
perate  efforts  to  restore  order.     In  the  midst  of  the  confusion,  I  as- 


1  See  p.  24. 


X 


ANNAPOLIS.  57 


sembled  about  fifty  men  around  me,  and  began  singing,  "  Say,  broth 
ers,  will  you  meet  us  ?"  Hundreds  replied  practically,  and  soon  I 
was  surrounded  by  a  large  audience.  After  singing,  we  united  in 
prayer,  and  then  with  earnestness  they  listened  to  my  brief  address, 
—  the  simple  story  of  Jesus.  Order  was  restored,  not  by  the  sword, 
but  by  the  cross,  which  is  "  the  power  of  God." 

I  was  gratified  to  hear  subsequently  from  the  Colonel  in  command, 
that  a  quieter  night  had  not  been  experienced  in  the  camp,  although 
it  then  contained  seven  thousand  six  hundred  and  sixty-two  soldiers, 


CHAPTEE    III. 

THE    WESTERN  ARMIES. 

UNTIL    AFTER  THE  STONE   RIVER    BATTLES. 
April,  1861— January,  1863. 

THE  first  Delegation  to  the  West,  from  the  central 
office,  was  to  the  Cumberland  Army,  immediately  after 
the  Stone  River  battles,  December  31st,  1862.  Earlier 
in  the  war,  much  valuable  work  was  done  in  the  "West 
ern  armies,  upon  every  principal  battle-field,  by  the 
various  "Army  Committees/71  organized  in  Chicago, 
Peoria,  St.  Louis,  &c. 

The  war  in  Missouri  was  a  succession  of  forced 
marches,  toilsome  retreats,  and  desperate  battles  between 
comparatively  small  armies.  Gens.  Fremont  and  Hunter 
were  successively  displaced  from  the  chief  command, 
and  Gen.  Halleck,  in  November,  1861,  assumed  charge 
of  the  Department. 

Among  the  troops  campaigning  in  Missouri  was  the 
famous  "Normal  School"  regiment,  the  33d  Illinois. 
Mr.  B.  F.  Jacobs,2  of  Chicago,  gives  the  story  of  a 


1  These  "  Army  Committees"  were  appointed  by  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Associations  of  the  places  named.     A  particular  account  of  their  origin  is  given 
in  the  Annals  of  the  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  chap.  vi. 

2  The  faithful  and  devoted  Secretary  of  the  Chicago  Army  Committee,  and  of 
the  Northwestern  Branch  of  the  Christian  Commission,  until  the  close  of  the 
war. 

58 


MISSOURI.  59 

Friday  evening  prayer-meeting,  held  in  the  First 
Baptist  Church  of  that  city,  in  the  Fall  of  1861,  which 
is  connected  with  the  history  of  the  regiment  : 

Towards  the  close  of  the  meeting,  an  officer  rose  and  said  — 
"  I  am  a  stranger  to  you,  and  in  this  city.     My  reason  for  speak 
ing  is  that  I  have  a  trust  to  execute.     Our  regiment,  —  the  33d  Illi 
nois,  —  in  the  early  part  of  its  campaigns,  at  a  town  in  Missouri, 
received  a  box   containing  a  few  hymn-books   and 


Testaments,   some    papers,    housewives,  and    other 


soldier  comforts.  A  little  ticket  within  the  box  in 
formed  us  that  it  came  from  a  lady  of  the  First  Baptist  Church, 
Chicago.  So  anxious  were  the  men  for  the  hymn-books  that  on  ac 
count  of  the  short  supply,  they  loaned  the  precious  volumes  to  each 
other,  and  more  than  one  hundred  committed  to  memory  the  principal 
hymns,  that  they  might  be  able  to  sing  readily  at  the  meetings.  The 
books  penetrated  into  the  hospital.  One  of  my  men  sent  for  me  to 
visit  a  dying  soldier  there.  His  words  were  few  but  full  and 
precious  : 

"  '  Captain,  I  am  dying  :  I  long  to  see  my  wife  and  children,  but  I 
know  I  shall  die  without  that.  I've  been  trying  to  think  what  I 
could  send  my  wife.  I  have  nothing  except  these  books,'  and  taking 
one  of  the  Testaments  and  hymn  books  from  under  his  head,  he  added 
'  Send  these  ;  and  Captain,  if  you  are  ever  in  Chicago,  I  want  you  to 
go  to  the  First  Baptist  Church,  and  tell  the  lady  who  sent  those 
hymn  books  that  the  27th  hymn  has  led  me  to  Jesus.  I  am  going 
home  to  wait  for  her.'  " 

The  story  of  the  stranger  Captain  deeply  impressed  the  audience. 
There  was  a  pause  in  his  talk  for  a  moment,  when  he  went  on  again  : 

"Among  others  in  the  regiment,  there  was  a  little  boy,  the  ser 
vant  of  one  of  the  Captains,  who  on  account  of  his  known  religious 
principles  was  nicknamed  '  Little  Piety.'     The  Chris 
tian  soldiers  of  the  regiment   organized    a  prayer 
meeting  ;  and  were  holding  it  one  evening  in  a  tent,  near  the  quarters 
of  the   officer   of  the  day,  a  very  profane  man,  who  hearing  the 
singing,  started  out,  exclaiming  with  an  oath,  '  I'll  stop  that  noise.' 
As  he  approached  the  tent,  the  fly-door  was  up  ;  '  Little  Piety'  was 
speaking,  standing  near  the  cracker-box  which  served  as  a  desk,  so 


60  CHRISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

that  the  light  of  the  only  candle  in  the  tent  lit  up  his  face.  The 
little  fellow  was  telling  of  his  mother's  last  counsel  to  him  as  he  went 
away  from  home :  '  My  son,  there  are  a  great  many  men  who  don't 
love  Christ,  and  who  will  tempt  you  to  swerve  from  your  fidelity  and 
purpose.  You  may  be  subjected  to  trials  on  account  of  your  faith  ; 
but,  my  son,  I  want  you  to  promise  that  whatever  else  you  forget, 
you  will  not  forget  your  mother's  Saviour/  With  tears  in  his  eyes 
the  little  fellow  told  how  he  was  trying  not  to  forget  Him.  The  sight 
of  the  boy  and  the  tone  of  his  voice  stopped  the  Captain.  He  listened 
till  the  meeting  closed,  when  the  leader  asked — 

"  '  Where  shall  we  hold  our  next  meeting  ?' 

"  Stepping  forward  out  of  the  darkness,  the  Captain  responded, '  In 
my  tent.' 

"  That  Captain  was  afterwards  converted  to  Christ,  and  since  that 
time  has  been  one  of  the  most  earnest  Christians  in  the  regiment." 

The  stranger  sat  down ;  and  we  felt  in  our  prayer  meeting,  that 
night,  our  hearts  somehow  knit  closer  to  the  men  who  had  gone  out 
from  our  midst,  and  that  we  owed  them  thenceforth  more  of  prayer 
and  more  of  work. 

During  the  desultory  operations  in  Missouri,  Gen. 
Grant  was  in  command  at  Cairo.  He  moved  down  the 
Mississippi,  and,  on  Nov.  7th,  fought  the  battle  of  Bel- 
mont,  opposite  Columbus,  the  Confederate  General  Folk's 
headquarters.  The  Chicago  Army  Committee  sent  a 
Delegate1  to  Cairo,  to  care  for  the  wounded  from  the 
battle-field.  Rev.  G.  S.  F.  Savage,  District  Secretary 
in  Chicago  of  the  American  Tract  Society,  was  at  Cairo 
on  a  similar  errand.  He  writes : 

A  Lieutenant  in  an  Iowa  regiment,  wounded  by  a  ball  in  the  shoul 
der,  was  brought  into  the  hospital.  At  first,  it  was  thought  that 
he  would  recover,  but  after  a  few  days,  he  rapidly  declined.  Just 

before  his  death  a  ladv  nurse  said  to  him — 
" Not  a  Cloud."  aT. 

Lieutenant,  you  have  but  a  tew  moments  to  live; 


1  Mr.  D.  L.  Moody,  of  Chicago. 


FOKT   HENEY.  61 

if  you  have  any  word  to  send  to  your  wife  and  little  one  in  Iowa, 

you  must  speak  it  very  quickly." 

He  looked  up  at  her,  his  face  shining  like  an  angel's,  and  said  — 
"  Tell  my  wife,  that  there  is  not  a  cloud  between  me  and  Jesus." 

The  Rebels  had  constructed  in  Tennessee,  a  few  miles 
south  of  the  Kentucky  line,  and  within  about  eleven 
miles  of  each  other,  two  strong  and  extensive  works, 
Forts  Henry  and  Donelson,  controlling  respectively  the 
passage  up  the  Tennessee  and  Cumberland  rivers.  Gen. 
Grant,  with  the  aid  of  Commodore  Foote's  powerful  flo 
tilla  of  gunboats,  undertook  the  task  of  reducing  them. 
On  Feb.  6th,  1862,  Fort  Henry  fell  ;  and  ten  days  after 
wards,  Fort  Donelson,  after  a  brilliant  siege  and  some 
hard  fighting. 

Commodore  Foote  was  a  decided  Christian.  A  cor 
respondent  of  the  Boston  Journal^  writing  at  this  time, 
says  of  him 

He  is  not  afraid  to  have  all  men  know  that  he  recognizes  his  obli 
gation  to  his  Divine  Maker.  A  gentleman  remarked  to  him,  on  the 
day  after  the  capture  of  Fort  Henry,  that  ,he  was  getting  nervous, 

and  was  afraid  he  did  not  sleep  well.     The  Commo- 

,  .    ,  Commodore 

dore  replied- 


"  I  never  slept  better  in  my  life  than  night  before 
last,  and  never  prayed  more  fervently  than  on  yesterday  morning; 
but  last  night  I  couldn't  sleep  for  thinking  of  those  poor  fellows  on 
the  '  Essex.'  " 

The  "  Essex,"  it  will  be  remembered,  was  pierced,  during  the  bom 
bardment  of  Fort  Henry,  in  an  unguarded  spot,  its  boiler  penetrated, 
and  the  vessel  instantly  filled  from  stem  to  stern  with  burning  steam. 
Capt.  Porter  and  forty  of  his  crew  were  severely  scalded.2 


1  Mr.  C.  C.  Coffin ;  better  known  by  his  nom  de  plume,  "  Carleton." 

2  This  incident  recalls  the  Commodore's  noble  order,  "  Number  Six,"  which 


62  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

A  beautiful  little  story  connected  with,  the  siege,  was 
related  at  a  Western  Sunday-school  convention  in  1863: 

A  young  man  was  wounded,  and  left  by  his  comrades,  who  pressed 
on  in  the  battle.  When  they  returned,  they  found  him  resting 
against  a  tree,  dead,  with  a  book  open  in  his  hand  at  this  hymn : 

"Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee ; 
E'en  though  it  be  a  cross 
Nearer  to  Thee.  That  raiseth  me ; 

Still  all  my  song  shall  be, 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee." 

Mr.  B.  F.  Jacobs  was  one  of  the  Chicago  Army  Com 
mittee  Delegates  to  the  wounded,  after  the  surrender. 
From  him  we  gather  the  incidents  which  follow : 

A  week  after  the  surrender,  our  own  men  had  all  been  cared  for. 


he  issued  to  his  fleet;    and  which,  while  he  commanded,  was  carefully  en 
forced  : 

CAIRO,  Dec.  17,  1861. 

A  strict  observance  of  Sunday,  so  far  as  abstaining  from  all  unnecessary  work, 
and  giving  officers  and  men  the  opportunity  of  attending  public  worship  on  board, 
will  be  observed  by  all  persons  connected  with  the  flotilla. 

It  is  the  wish  of  the  commander-in-chief  that  on  Sunday  the  public  worship 
of  Almighty  God  may  be  observed  on  board  of  all  the  vessels  composing  the  flo 
tilla  ;  and  that  the  respective  commanders  will,  either  themselves,  or  cause  other 
persons  to,  pronounce  prayers  publicly  on  Sunday,  when  as  many  of  the  officers 
and  men  as  can  be  spared  from  duty  may  attend  the  public  worship  of  Almighty 
God. 

Profane  swearing  being  forbidden  by  the  laws  for  the  better  government  of  the 
navy,  all  officers  and  men  will  strictly  observe  this  law ;  and  every  officer  who 
uses  profane  language  towards  the  men,  in  carrying  on  duty,  will  be  held  amen 
able  for  such  gross  violation  of  law  and  order. 

Discipline,  to  be  permanent,  must  be  based  on  moral  grounds,  and  officers  must 
in  themselves  show  a  good  example  in  morals,  order,  and  patriotism,  to  secure 
these  qualities  in  the  men. 

ANDREW  H.  FOOTE,  Flag  Officer, 
Com' ding  U.  S.  Naval  Forces  on  the  Western  Waters. 


FORT    DONELSON.  63 

That  Sabbath  evening  we  were  to  start  down  the  river  with  the  last 

of  the  wounded.     Mr.  Moody  went  with  me  to  visit  the  Rebels,  who 

crowded    the   twenty-three   log-house    hospitals    at 

Dover.    In  one  of  them  we  found  almost  every  inch      jr 

of  room  occupied.     In  a  kitchen  corner,  on  some 

straw,  there  was  an  old,  gray-haired  man.     I  went  up  to  him,  knelt 

down  by  his  side,  and  asked  if  I  could  do  anything  for  him. 

"  No,"  said  he ;  "  you  can't." 

"  Don't  you  want  anything  f  is  there  nothing  that  might  comfort 
you?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  was  his  answer ;  "  I  want  to  go  home.  I  have  a  wife 
and  six  children  in  Tennessee,  and  oh,  how  I  want  to  go  home  and 
see  them !" 

"  Well,"  said  I ;  "  'maybe  you'll  be  exchanged." 

He  looked  up  at  me  with  an  expression  of  astonishment. 

"Why,"  said  he,  "Til  never  go  home.  I'm  dying;  don't  you 
know  it  ?" 

"  No,  I  didn't  know  it ;  but,  my  friend,  if  you  are  dying,  are  you 
not  going  home  f  Don't  you  know  how  Christ  said  He  had  gone  to 
prepare  a  home  for  those  who  loved  Him  ?  Have  you  never  thought 
of  that  home  in  heaven  ?" 

He  gazed  at  me  with  an  expression  of  perfect  despair. 

"  My  wife  has  talked  to  me  about  this  for  thirty-five  years ;  and 
God  knows  how  I  have  treated  her.  I've  rejected  every  invitation, 
and  I'm  dying  here  without  Christ, — without  Christ." 

He  kept  groaning  out  for  a  long  time,  "  I  can't  die :  I  can't  die." 
And  with  no  light  to  show  him  the  heavenly  way,  he  went  alone  into 
the  darkness  of  death. 

In  another  of  the  huts  I  found  a  man  lying  on  the  floor,  who,  as 
I  went  up  to  minister  to  him  in  his  turn,  was  unable  to  speak.     We 
carried  him  down  to  the  hospital-boat  that  was  going  out,  and  nursed 
him  during  the  trip.     He  had  been  shot  through  the 
lower  jaw,  and  was  too  weak  to  stand.     Wounded  in      jfarcis^  °^  °' 
the  first  day's  fight,  he  had  lain  on  the  field  for  forty- 
eight  hours  before  he  was  picked  up.     In  the  storm,  his  back  froze 
fast  to  the  ground  where  he  lay,  and  both  his  feet  were  frozen  also. 
After  we  had  him  on  the  boat  a  while,  I  learned  that  his  name  was 
Burgess,  and  that  I  had  previously  known  him  in  Chicago. 


64  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

At  Cairo  we  put  him  into  a  hospital,  exacting  a  promise  from  one 
of  the  nurses  that  he  should  receive  special  care.  Six  months  after 
wards  the  man  walked  into  my  store.  He  was  on  his  way  back  to 
the  army.  He  stopped  to  tell  us  that,  under  God,  he  owed  his  life  to 
the  care  which  had  been  taken  of  him  on  the  boat ;  and  that  he  in 
tended  to  prove  his  gratitude  to  God  who  had  given  him  back  his 
life,  by  serving  Him  for  evermore. 

That  night,  as  we  steamed  down  the  river,  I  had  charge  of  the 
patients  after  ten  o'clock.  I  found  in  a  state-room  a  young  fellow 
shot  through  the  lungs.  I  asked  him  if  there  was  anything  he 

wanted. 
Living  Waters.  ,.  T  ,  .   -,    „  ,  . 

"  I  want  a  drink,    was  his  answer. 

I  went  to  get  him  some  water  out  of  the  Cumberland.  He  looked 
at  it — so  muddy  and  impure — for  a  minute,  with  an  expression  of 
intense  desire  and  longing :  "  Oh,  for  one  cupful  of  water  out  of  my 
father's  well." 

I  asked  him  if  he  had  ever  heard  of  the  "  Living  waters." 

He  turned  towards  me  a  face  of  joy,  as  he  answered  "  yes,"  and 
told  me  of  the  inner  fountain  of  refreshment  and  cleansing. 

We  stopped  for  about  half  an  hour  at  Paducah,  and  improved  the 

time  by  distributing   books   in   the  hospitals.     I   gave  one   young 

soldier,  whose  appearance  interested  me,  a  little  volume  containing 

Scripture  texts  arranged  for  each  day  in  the  year. 

yerse  Returning  again  from  Fort  Donelson,  by  the  same 

route,  a  week  later,  I  sought  out  my  young  friend. 

With  a  countenance  all  aglow  with  joy,  he  answered  my  inquiries  as 

to  his  health,  by  pulling  out  the  little  book,  and  opening  it  to  point 

to  a  verse  near  the  middle : 

"  That  little  verse  has  led  me  to  the  Saviour ;  and  I  have  enjoyed 
Him — oh  !  how  much." 

That  was  all.  Even  the  verse  has  gone  from  my  memory ;  but 
that  soldier's  face,  with  its  glance  of  transfiguration  and  peace,  can 
never  pass  away. 

Rev.  Dr.  Robert  Patterson,1  returning  from  work  at 
Fort  Donelson,  stopped  over  at  Paducah.  He  relates 


Pastor  of  Reformed  Presbyterian  Church,  Chicago. 


PADUCAH  HOSPITALS.  65 


an  incident  which  is  connected  with  one  of  the  same 
little  books  : 

In  the  corner  of  the  room  used  as  a  hospital  for  the  Rebels  at  the 
Campbell  House,  lay  a  young  boy,  John  Posey,  looking  very  weak 
and  sick. 

"  How  old  are  you,  John  ?" 


Fourteen,  sir."  Drops" 

for  Hations. 
"  You  have  been  very  ill,  I  learn.     How  did  you 

feel  when  you  thought  you  might  die  '?" 

"  I  knew  the  Lord  would  take  care  of  me." 

"  Why  so  ;  do  you  love  the  Lord  Jesus  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  indeed  I  do." 

"  How  long  is  it  since  you  became  a  Christian  ?" 

"  About  two  years." 

"  How  did  you  manage,  John,  to  retain  your  love  for  Christ  in  the 
camp  ?" 

He  drew  from  under  his  pillow  a  diminutive  volume,  somewhat 
over  an  inch  square,  called  "Dew  Drops,"  issued  by  the  Tract 
Society  : 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  I  lived  on  that." 

"  Carleton"  tells  the  story  of  Frankie  Bragg,  who 
died  in  a  Paducah  hospital  i1 

He  was  a  brave  and  noble  boy.  There  were  several  kind  ladies 
takiDg  care  of  the  sick.  Their  presence  was  like  sunshine.  Wher 
ever  they  walked,  the  eyes  of  the  sufferers  followed  them.  One  of 
these  ladies  thus  speaks  of  little  Frankie  Bragg  : 

"  Many  will  remember  him  ;  the  boy  of  fifteen, 

J  cause  so   Young 

who   fought    valiantly   at    Donelson,  —  one   of   the      and  strong. 
bravest  of  Birge's  sharpshooters,  and  whose  answer 
to  my  questioning  in  regard  to  joining  the  army  was  so  well  worthy 
of  record  : 

"  'I  joined  because  I  was  so  young  and  strong,  and  because  life  ivould 
be  worth  nothing  to  me  unless  I  offered  it  for  my  country.™ 


1  Days  and  Nights  on  the  Battle-field,  pp.  277-280. 

2  Hospital  Incidents,  New  York  Post,  Oct.  22d,  1863. 


66  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

I 

"  I  saw  him  die.    I  can  never  forget  the  pleading  gaze  of  his  violet 

eyes,  the  brow,  from  which  ringlets  of  light-brown  hair  were  swept 
by  strange  fingers,  bathed  in  the  death-dew,  the  desire  for  some  one 

to  love  him  in  his  last  hours. 

Love    makes 

Death  Easy.  ^  '  -1-  am  SOIUS  to  die,  and  there  is  no  one  to 

love  me/  he  said.  'I  didn't  think  I  was  going  to  die 
till  now ;  but  it  can't  last  long.  If  my  sisters  were  only  here ;  but  I 
have  no  friends  near  me  now,  and  it  is  so  hard!' 

" '  Frankie/  I  said,  'I  know  it  is  hard  to  be  away  from  your  rela 
tives,  but  you  are  not  friendless ;  I  am  your  friend.  Mrs.  S.  and  the 
kind  Doctor  are  your  friends,  and  we  will  all  take  care  of  you.  More 
than  this,  God  is  your  friend,  and  He  is  nearer  to  you  now  than 
either  of  us  can  get.  Trust  Him,  my  boy.  fie  will  help  you.' 

"A  faint  smile  passed  over  the  pale  sufferer's  features. 

"'Oh,  do  you  think  He  will?'  he  asked. 

"  Then,  as  he  held  my  hands  closer,  he  turned  his  face  more  fully 
towards  me,  and  said — 

"  'My  mother  taught  me  to  pray  when  I  was  a  very  little  boy,  and 
I  never  forgot  it.  I  have  always  said  my  prayers  every  day,  and 
tried  not  to  be  bad.  Do  you  think  God  heard  me  always?' 

" '  Yes,  most  assuredly.  Did  He  not  promise  in  His  good  book, 
from  which  your  mother  taught  you,  that  He  would  always  hear  the 
prayers  of  His  children  ?  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive.  Don't  you  re 
member  this?  One  of  the  worst  things  we  can  do  is  to  doubt  God's 
truth.  He  has  promised  and  He  will  fulfill.  Don't  you  feel  so, 
Frankie?' 

"He  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  answered  slowly — 

"''Yes,  I  do  believe  it.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die,  but  I  want  some 
body  to  love  me.' 

"  The  old  cry  for  love,  the  strong  yearning  for  the  sympathy  of 
kindred  hearts.  It  would  not  be  put  down.  'Frankie,  I  love  you. 
Poor  boy,  you  shall  not  be  left  alone.  Is  not  this  some  comfort  to 
you  ?' 

"  '  Do  you  love  me  ?     Will  you  stay  with  me  and  not  leave  me  ?' 

" '  I  will  not  leave  you.  Be  comforted.  I  will  stay  as  long  as  you 
wish.' 

"I  kissed  the  pale  forehead,  as  if  it  had  been  that  of  my  own 
child.  A  glad  light  flashed  over  his  face. 


CAMP    DOUGLAS.  67 

" '  Oh,  kiss  me  again ;  that  was  given  like  my  sister.  Mrs.  S., 
won't  you  kiss  me  too  ?  I  don't  think  it  will  be  so  hard  to  die,  if 
you  will  both  love  me.' 

"  It  did  not  last  long.  With  his  face  nestled  against  mine,  and 
his  large  blue  eyes  fixed  in  perfect  composure  upon  me  to  the  last 
moment,  he  breathed  out  his  life." 

Camp  Douglas,  near  Chicago,  became  the  receptacle 
for  the  prisoners  taken  at  Fort  Donelson.  Before  we 
return  to  the  operations  of  Gen.  Grant's  army,  a  few 
reminiscences  of  Kev.  Dr.  Patterson  may  be  given,  of 
the  Army  Committee  work  among  the  Confederates  and 
others  of  this  camp : 

Perceiving  the  hospital  flag  flying  over  a  cavalry  stable  in  Camp 
Douglas,  I  directed  my  steps  towards  it,  and  was  met  at  the  door  by 
one  of  our  Chicago  city  physicians  in  charge — a  volunteer.     I  asked 
him  if  the  building  was  used  as  a  hospital.     He  said 
it  was,  and  told  me  of  his  connection  with  it.     He        M£ 
said  that  a  number  of  the  men  were  in  a  dangerous 
condition,  some  of  them  dying;  that  no  minister  had  yet  called  to  see 
them. 

The  long  building  was  filled  with  cots,  most  of  which  were  occu 
pied.  In  the  furthest  corner  lay  a  man  in  the  agonies  of  death. 
His  voice  was  yet  unimpaired,  though  the  contracted  lips,  the  pale, 
bloodless  face  and  the  glazing  eye  too  plainly  told  that  his  hours  were 
almost  over.  He  was  conscious  of  his  situation,  but  utterly  indiffer 
ent  to  the  friends  who  stood  around  him  and  to  anything  that  might 
be  said  by  mortal  man.  One  only  prayer  issued  from  his  lips :  "  God 
have  mercy  on  my  soul,"  uttered  with  all  his  dying  energy.  Fainter 
and  fainter  the  cry  became,  till  his  voice  ceased  in  death. 

The  solemn  phrase  and  the  sad  departure  of  the  man's  spirit  made 
a  profound  impression  upon  all  in  the  hospital.    As  I  turned  my  face 
away  towards  the  other  end  of  the  room,  a  hand  was  raised  from  a 
cot  away  down  the  row,  beckoning  me  to  approach. 
I  did  so,  and  seated  myself  on  an  adjoining  empty          "Won't     you 

cot  to  listen  to  the  soldier's  request.  ^each     me     a 

<i  o  •  Prayer?' 

btranger,    said  the  man,  an  East  Tennessee  Con- 


68  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

federate,  with  feverish  energy,  "  the  man  that  lay  on  that  cot  was 
taken  out  this  morning;  and  I  have  got  the  same  sickness.  I  don't 
know  how  soon  my  turn  may  come.  I  want  you  to  tell  me  what  I 
ought  to  do." 

I  explained  to  him  the  way  of  salvation,  as  I  supposed,  with  great 
simplicity.  He  looked  me  in  the  face  with  an  earnestness  which  I 
can  never  forget,  and  said — 

"Stranger,  couldn't  you  make  it  very  plain  to  a  poor  feller  that 
never  got  no  schoolin'  ?" 

His  words,  jerked  out  in  the  energy  of  his  fever,  had  a  strangely 
intense  force  in  them.  I  tried  again,  and  endeavored  to  simplify  and 
illustrate  my  instruction,  succeeding,  I  hope,  in  bringing  the  atoning 
death  of  Christ  before  his  mind.  I  concluded  by  saying — 

"  You  must  pray  to  God  to  forgive  you  your  sins  for  Christ's 
sake." 

"  Preacher,"  said  he,  "  I  can't  pray.  Nobody  never  taught  me 
nothing." 

Said  I,  "Have  you  never  prayed?" 

His  manner  grew  almost  fierce  as  he  ejaculated — 

"  I  tell  you  I  never  got  no  schoolin' ;"  and  then,  as  if  recollecting 
himself,  he  raised  his  head  and  added,  "  Stranger,  couldn't  you  teach 
me  a  prayer?  and  if  I  said  it,  'maybe  the  Lord  would  hear  me." 

I  replied,  "  I  will  teach  you  a  prayer  and  the  Lord  \\ill  hear  you, 
if  you  say  it  sincerely." 

I  began  to  recite  the  51st  Psalm:  "Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  God, 
— according  to  Thy  loving-kindness :  According  unto  the  multitude 
of  Thy  tender  mercies — blot  out  my  transgressions.  Wash  me 
thoroughly  from  mine  iniquity, — and  cleanse  me  from  my  sin.  For 
I  acknowledge  my  transgressions : — and  my  sin  is  ever  before  me." 

"Yes,"  said  he,  raising  his  finger,  "that's  it,  that's  it,  exactly.  But, 
stranger,"  rubbing  his  hand  across  his  fevered  brow,  and  looking 
at  me  more  piteously  than  ever  out  of  the  pain-encircled  eyes — 
"  stranger,  my  head's  full  of  the  fever,  and  I  can't  mind  it.  If  it 
was  writ  down  now,  and  I  was  to  read  it,  don't  you  think  the  Lord 
would  hear  me.  I  could  spell  it  out,  preacher, — if  you  think  He'd 
hear  me." 

"It  is  written  down,  my  poor  brother,  and  I'll  get  it  for  you,  if 
there's  a  Bible  in  this  hospital,  and  God  will  hear  you." 


CAMP    DOUGLAS.  69 

I  set  out  to  find  a  Bible,  and  in  that  camp,  containing  hundreds  of 
nek  and  dying  men  and  some  thousands  of  Rebel  prisoners,  there 
was  not  an  accessible  copy  of  the  Word  of  God  !  I  returned  from 
my  unsuccessful  search,  and  told  him  — 

"  There  is  not  a  Bible  I  can  lay  my  hands  on  in  camp,  but  I  will 
bring  you  one  to-morrow,  if  God  spares  me." 

"Yes;  but,  stranger,"  said  he,  wistfully,  "what's  to  become  of  a 
poor  feller  if  I  should  die  to  night?" 

It  was  a  most  serious  question. 

After  our  regular  meetings  in  the  Chapel  at  Camp  Douglas  were 
dismissed,  a  little  band  of  Christians  were  wont  to  gather  on  the  plat 
form  and  have  a  season  of  conference  and  prayer.  The  lights  in  the 

hall  were  extinguished  at  such  times  —  one  or  two 

Out  of  Dark- 
only  being  left  burning,  near  the  speaker  s  stand.      negs  into 


These  cast  little  or  no  light  into  the  large  room, 
which  looked  then  like  a  great,  dark,  forsaken  cavern.  One  night, 
as  the  exercises  of  one  of  these  supplemental  meetings  were  about 
concluding,  a  tall,  stalwart  Sergeant  stalked  forth  from  the  gloom 
into  the  uncertain  light  near  us,  and  in  a  voice  trembling  with 
emotion,  said  — 

"  Friends,  there  is  something  in  this  religion  after  all.  I  wish  I 
had  it.  Will  you  pray  for  me  that  I  may  become  a  Christian  ?" 

Tears  came  into  his  eyes  as  we  knelt  down  with  him  and  prayed. 

On  one  occasion  a  number  of  Delegates  visited  Camp  Douglas  and 
found  a  party  of  boys  dancing  round  a  fiddler.  The  visitors  pro 
posed  a  prayer  meeting,  very  much  to  the  disgust  of  a  burly  Corporal, 

the   leader   of  the   entertainment.     However,   after 

,.  ,,     ..  .  Instrumental 

putting  the  matter  to  a  vote  of   the  company,  in       ^    . 

true  democratic  fashion,  it  was  agreed  by  a  large 
majority  that  we  should  have  a  meeting  for  a  while.  We  asked  the 
fiddler,  who  was  accustomed  to  dispense  the  music  of  the  place,  to 
assist  us  in  the  line  of  his  profession.  He  replied  that  he  knew 
"nothing  serious  but  'John  Brown's  body  lies  a-mould'ring  in  the 
grave.'  "  But  after  tasking  his  memory  somewhat  he  hunted  up 
some  other  tunes,  and  quite  acceptably  led  the  music  of  the  meeting. 
At  its  conclusion,  the  Corporal  who  had  opposed  us,  mounted  a 
box,  and  alluding  to  some  remarks  we  had  made  about  card-playing, 
began  a  little  speech  which  concluded  thus  — 


70  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Shying  up  "  Xow  all  of  you  fellers  what  want  to  give  up  this 
business,  jest  do  as  I  do  and  shy  up  your  cards." 

He  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  as  he  spoke,  pulled  out  a  pack  of 
cards  and  "  shied"  them  right  up  into  the  air  as  high  as  he  could. 
Immediately  from  all  sides  a  shower  went  up  and  came  down  flutter 
ing  into  the  mud  and  were  trampled  under  foot. 

At  one  time  we  had  in  our  Chicago  Army  Committee  rooms  a 
peach-basket  full  of  cards  which  had  been  traded  off  for  books. 

"  I  am  with  you,"  said  an  artillery  officer,  "  in  everything  to  pro 
mote  instruction  and  good  morals  among  the  soldiers." 

Intimating  the  hope  that  he  was  a  Christian  himself,  he  replied— 

"No,  I  am  a  'Tom  Paine'  infidel,  and  don't  believe 
With  us  and       .      ,,        ,.    .  .    .         ~       -..    .         i     ,    •/? 

,     .    ,  in  the  divine  oriinn  ot  religion,  but  11  your  tracts 

Against  us.  °  J 

and  preaching  keep  the  men  from  gambling  and 
drinking,  I  will  help  you ;"  and  he  did  render  me  most  efficient 
service. 

The  victory  at  Fort  Donelson  was  followed  up  by  im 
portant  successes  throughout  Kentucky  and  Tennessee. 
Simultaneously  with  the  fighting  at  Fort  Donelson,  Gen. 
Mitchell,  with  the  van  of  the  Army  of  the  Ohio,  now 
under  Gen.  Buell,  entered  Bowling  Green ;  Sidney  John 
ston,  the  Confederate  commander,  retreating  towards 
Nashville.  On  the  24th  of  February,  that  city  surren 
dered.  Gen.  Buell's  army  was  afterwards  quartered 
around  it.  Operations  for  opening  up  the  Mississippi 
were  undertaken.  Columbus,  Island  "Number  Ten," 
Forts  Pillow  and  Randolph,  and  the  city  of  Memphis 
fell  successively, — the  last  on  June  5th. 

In  March,  meanwhile,  Gen.  Grant's  army  began  a 
movement  up  the  Tennessee  river,  which  met  its  first 
resistance,  from  Johnston's  forces,  at  Pittsburg  Land 
ing.  A  desperate  battle  followed  on  Sunday,  April 
Cth ;  Grant  being  forced  back  into  a  dangerous  position. 
A  part  of  Buell's  army  arrived  at  night-fall,  however ; 


GIVING  UP  THE  BUSINESS. 


ee  70. 


PITTSBURG    LANDING.  71 

and  on  the  next  day  the  scale  was  turned  against  the 
enemy.     Our  troops  followed  the  foe  to  Corinth,  Miss. 
which  was  evacuated  on  the  29th. 

The  history  of  this  battle  is  especially  rich  in  inci 
dents.  Mr.  Moody,  who  went,  as  usual,  from  the  Chi 
cago  Branch,  recalls  two  stories  of  his  service : 

A  Surgeon  going  over  the  field  to  bandage  bleeding  wounds,  came 
upon  a  soldier  lying  in  his  blood  with  his  face  to  the  ground.  Seeing 
the  horrible  wound  in  his  side  and  the  death  pallor  on  his  face,  he 

was  passing  on  to  attend  to  others,  when  the  dying 

.-.....,  .  -Dying     with 

man  called  him  with  a  moan  to  come  just  for  a  mo-      Face  Upwards 

ment, — he  wanted  to  be  turned  over.     The  Doctor 
lifting  the  mangled  body  as  best  he  could,  laid  the  poor  fellow  on  his 
back.     A  few  moments  after,  while  dressing  wounds  near  by,  he 
heard  him  say — 

"  This  is  glory, — this  is  glory !" 

Supposing  it  was  the  regret  of  a  dying  soldier,  correcting,  in  this 
scene  of  carnage,  his  former  estimate  of  the  "pomp  and  circum 
stance  of  war,"  the  Surgeon  put  his  lips  to  his  ear  and  asked — 

"  What  is  glory,  my  dear  fellow  ?" 

"  O  Doctor,  it's  glory  to  die  with  my  face  upward  !"  and  moving 
his  hand  feebly,  his  forefinger  set,  as  if  he  would  point  the  heavenly 
way,  he  made  his  last  earthly  sign. 

There  was  a  man  on  one  of  the  boat-loads  of  wounded  from  the 
field,  who  was  very  low  and  in  a  kind  of  stupor.  He  was  entirely 
unknown.  A  little  stimulant  was  poured  down  his  throat,  and  Mr. 

Moody  called  him  by  different  names,  but  could  get 

"Even  So  must 
no  response.     At  last,  at  the  name     William,     the     HebeLiftedu   " 

man  unclosed  his  eyes  and  looked  up.     Some  more 
stimulant  was  given,  when  he  revived.     He  was  asked  if  he  was  a 
Christian.     Though  replying  in  the  negative,  he  yet  manifested  great 
anxiety  upon  the  subject : 

"  But  I  am  so  great  a  sinner  that  I  can't  be  a  Christian." 
Mr.  Moody  told  him  he  would  read  what  Christ  said  about  that. 
So,  turning  to  St.  John's  third  chapter,  he  read  the  14th  verse : 
"  And  as  Moses  lifted  up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so 


/Z  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

must  the  Son  of  Man  be  lifted  up :  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  For  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  He  gave  His  Only  Begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth 
in  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life." 

"  Stop,"  said  the  dying  man ;  "  read  that  over  again,  will  you  ?" 

It  was  read  again. 

"Is  that  there?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Moody;  "that's  there  just  as  I  read  it  to  you." 

"  And  did  Christ  say  that?" 

"  Yes." 

The  man  began  repeating  the  words,  settling  back  upon  his  pillow 
as  he  did  so,  with  a  strange,  solemn  look  of  peace  in  his  face.  He 
took  no  further  notice  of  what  was  going  on  about  him,  but  contin 
ued  murmuring  the  blessed  words  until  Mr.  Moody  left  him. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  soldier's  place  was  visited,  it  was  found 
empty.  Mr.  Moody  asked  if  any  one  knew  aught  about  him  during 
the  night.  A  nurse,  who  had  spent  the  hours  with  him  until  he  died, 
replied — 

"All  the  time  I  was  with  him  he  was  repeating  something  about 
Moses  lifting  up  a  serpent  in  the  wilderness.  I  asked  him  if  there 
was  anything  I  could  do  for  him,  but  he  only  answered  what  he  had 
been  muttering  all  along.  Just  before  he  died,  about  midnight,  I 
saw  his  lips  moving,  though  there  was  no  sound  escaping.  I  thought 
he  might  have  some  dying  message  for  home,  so  I  asked  him  for  one. 
But  the  only  answer  was  the  whispered  words ;  'As  Moses  lifted  up 
the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the  Son  of  Man  be  lifted 
up :  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him' — and  so  on  until  his  voice  died 
away  and  his  lips  moved  no  longer." 

Rev.  Dr.  Robert  Patterson  writes : 

A  brave  and  godly  Captain  in  one  of  our  Western  regiments  told 

one  of  us  his  story,  as  we  were  removing  him  to  the  hospital.     He 

was  shot  through  both  thighs  with  a  rifle  bullet — a  wound  from  which 

he  could  not  recover.     While  lying  on  the  field,  he 

Jf  ^  M  suffered   intense  agony  from  thirst.     He  supported 

his  head  upon  his  hand,  while  the  rain  from  heaven 

was  falling  around  him.     In  a  little  time,  quite  a  pool  of  water 


PITTSBURG    LANDING.  73 

collected  in  the  hole  made  by  his  elbow.  If  he  could  only  get  to 
that  puddle  he  could  quench  his  thirst.  He  tried  to  get  into  a  posi 
tion  to  suck  up  a  mouthful  of  muddy  water,  but  was  unable  to  quite 
reach  it.  Said  he,  "  I  never  felt  such  disappointment  before, — so 
needy,  so  near,  and  yet  so  helpless.  By-and-by  night  fell,  and  the 
stars  shone  out  clear  and  beautiful  above  the  dark  field;  and  I  began 
to  think  of  the  great  God,  who  had  given  His  Sou  to  die  a  death  of 
agony  for  me,  and  that  He  was  up  there — up  above  the  scene  of 
suffering,  and  above  those  glorious  stars ;  and  I  felt  that  I  was  going 
home  to  meet  Him,  and  praise  Him  there ;  and  that  I  ought  to  praise 
Him,  here  in  my  wounds  and  in  the  rain ;  and  I  began  to  sing  with 
my  parched  lips — 

" '  When  I  can  read  my  title  clear 

To  mansions  in  the  skies, 
I  bid  farewell  to  every  fear, 
And  wipe  my  weeping  eyes.' 

There  was  a  Christian  brother  in  the  brush  near  me.  I  could  not 
see  him,  but  I  could  hear  him.  He  took  up  the  strain ;  and  beyond 
him  another  and  another  caught  it  up,  all  over  the  battle-field  of 
Shiloh ;  and  long  into  the  night  the  echo  was  resounding,  as  we  made 
the  field  of  battle  ring  with  hymns  of  praise  to  God."1 

It  was  a  solemn  place  indeed,  that  interval  on  Sunday 
night  between  the  two  contending  armies,  which  were  to 
assail  each  other  on  the  morrow.  Mr.  Demond2  pre- 


1  A  Delegate  writing  in  September,  1863,  after  the  Chickamauga  battle,  says : 
"  If  anybody  thinks  that  when  our  men  are  stricken  upon  the  field,  they  fill  the 
air  with  cries  and  groans,  till  it  shivers  with  such  evidence  of  agony,  he  greatly 
errs.   An  arm  is  shattered,  a  leg  carried  away,  a  bullet  pierces  the  breast,  and  the 
soldier  sinks  down  silently  upon  the  ground,  or  creeps  away,  if  he  can,  without  a 
murmur  or  complaint — falls  as  the  sparrow  falls,  speechlessly;  and  like  that  spar 
row,  I  earnestly  believe,  falls  not  without  the  Father's  care.     The  dying  horse 
gives  out  his  fearful  utterance  of  almost  human  suffering,  but  the  mangled  rider 
is  dumb.     The  crash  of  musketry,  the  crack  of  rifles,  the  roar  of  guns,  the  shriek 
of  shells,  the  Rebel  whoop,  the  Federal  cheer,  with  an  indescribable  undertone 
of  grinding,  rumbling  and  splintering,  make  up  the  voices  of  the  battle-field." 

2  Address  at  the  Closing  Exercises  of  the  Commission  at  the  Capitol. 


/4  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

serves  an  incident,  showing  how  some  men,  who  lay 
there,  realized  their  position  : 

There  was  a  man  wounded  in  the  first  day's  fight.  He  lay  all  Sun 
day  night  in  a  tent,  held  by  the  Kebels,  on  the  ground,  in  the  mud, 
uncared  for.  During  the  long  and  terrible  night,  amid  the  rain  and 

roar  of  the  artillery,  there  came  vividly  back  to  him 
"God,  Country,         , 
Mother  "  a  argument  of  a  sermon  he  had 

heard  twenty  years  before.  The  next  day,  when  our 
troops  succeeded,  he  was  rescued  and  taken  to  St.  Louis,  where  he 
was  cared  for  by  the  members  of  the  Army  Committee.  The  Holy 
Spirit  sent  home  the  impression  of  that  night,  and  the  seed,  twenty 
years  buried,  sprang  up  and  brought  forth  fruit  in  his  conversion.  He 
lived  six  weeks  to  give  testimony  to  God's  goodness,  and  died  in  joy 
and  hope,  his  last  words  being,  "  My  God — my  country — my 
mother  !" 

Mr.  K.  A.  Burnell,1  of  Milwaukee,  who  accompanied 
the  lamented  Gov.  Harvey2  and  others,  on  a  State  mis 
sion  to  look  after  Wisconsin  sufferers,  writes : 

The  morning  before  leaving  for  home,  I  visited  the  hospital  tent 

of  the  14th  Wisconsin.     As  I  entered   the  room,  a  pale-faced   boy 

raised  himself  on  his  elbow  and  gazed  eagerly  at  me.     Addressing 

each  man  as  I  went  along,  I  came  at  last  to  the 

Many  Days  youth's  cot,  and  offered  him  my  hand.    He  looked  at 

me  earnestly  and  said — 
"  Don't  you  know  me  ?" 
I  could  not  remember  him. 
"  Why,  don't  you  remember  the  boy  you  talked  to  and  prayed  with 


1  Afterwards  Field   Agent  of  the   St.  Louis  Committee  on  the   Mississippi 
River. 

2  We  have  not  room  for  an  exceedingly  interesting  reminiscence  by  Mr.  Bur 
nell, — an  account  of  the  last  religious  service  ever  attended  by  Gov.  Harvey, — a 
prayer  meeting  conducted  by  Mr.  Burnell  on  the  boat  which  bore  the  Governor's 
party  of  relief  to  Shiloh.     It  was  held  just  about  opposite  Fort  Henry.     Gov. 
Harvev  was  drowned  eight  davs  after  in  the  Tennessee. 


PITTSBUKG    LANDING.  75 

at  Milton,  Wis.,  some  three  years  ago,  one  Sabbath  morning  as  you 
were  going  to  a  meeting  ?  Don't  you  remember  finding  me  by  the 
roadside,  and  how  you  talked  to  me  about  breaking  the  Sabbath  ?" 

The  circumstances  came  back  very  freshly  to  my  memory  as  the 
boy  recalled  them.  When  I  told  him  that  I  did  remember  him,  tears 
came  into  his  eyes : 

"  From  that  time  to  this  I  have  often  thought  of  you  and  longed 
to  see  you.  The  moment  you  came  in  that  door,  I  knew  you.  Oh ! 
how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  once  more!" 

Gov.  Harvey  was  so  much  impressed  by  my  account  of  one  of  his 
boys,  that  he  went  the  next  day  to  see  the  young  soldier.  It  was  a 
beautiful  meeting  between  the  weak  youth,  suffering  for  the  flag,  and 
the  noble  Governor  who  had  done  so  much  to  vindicate  its  honor 
and  purity. 

"  God  bless  you,  young  man  from  Wisconsin  ;"  was  the  Governor's 
greeting,  as  he  extended  his  hand  and  warmly  grasped  the  soldier's. 
The  boy,  proud  and  glad  and  pale,  responded  in  tears — 

u  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Governor." 

We  talked  about  Jesus,  and  after  prayer  separated. 

Some  two  years  later,  on  a  cotton  plantation  opposite  Vicksburg, 
after  an  open-air  service,  while  passing  hurriedly  away,  a  soldier 
came  hastening  after  me,  calling  out ;  "  Mister,  Mister !"  I  turned 
and  met  my  boy  of  the  Shiloh  tent,  looking  hearty  and  strong.  He 
thanked  me  again  for  the  "  comfortable  wrords"  spoken  to  him  two 
years  before,  and  for  the  reproof  addressed  to  him  in  Milton.  After 
a  few  earnest  words  of  encouragement  wre  again  bade  each  other 
good-bye. 

Again  on  the  Red  river  I  met  him,  and  once  or  twice  still  later  in 
the  war,  as  he  bronzed  into  a  "veteran."  And  it  always  did  me 
special  good  to  see  him,  for  his  words  each  time  showed  how  faithfully 
he  was  walking  in  the  upward  way. 

Mr.  Burnell  continues : 

The  "  City  of  Memphis"  arrived  at  Mound  City,  with  over  750 
wounded  from  the  battle.  Her  lower,  hurricane  and  upper  decks 
were  crowded  full.  Before  sunlight  on  the  morning  of  April  19th, 
with  others,  I  began  unloading  the  boat.  Until  seven  o'clock 


76  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"Let  not  your  in  the  evening  we  were  kept  busy,  carrying  the  dis- 
Heart  be  Trow-  al3lecj  on  litters,  assisting  those  who  could  walk  and 
distributing  the  men  through  the  various  wards  of 
hospitals. 

About  one  hundred  men  had  been  comfortably  lodged  in  tents  on 
the  hurricane  deck.  In  one  of  these  tents  were  six  badly  wounded 
men.  As  I  entered,  I  noticed  that  one  man  lay  very  still.  The 
others  raised  themselves  on  their  elbows  and  asked  eagerly  when  they 
were  going  to  be  taken  ashore.  The  still  man  never  moved.  I  asked 
his  comrades  why  he  was  so  still.  With  thoughtful  and  solemn  faces, 
they  said — 

"He  is  dead." 

I  moved  the  blanket  off  his  face — the  men  had  already  kindly 
straightened  him  out.  My  heart  melted,  thinking  of  loved  ones  at 
home.  For  some  reason  taking  hold  of  his  arm  to  move  it,  I  dis 
covered  under  it  his  pocket  Testament.  It  was  open.  I  looked  into 
it  as  it  lay,  and  my  eye  caught  these  words  of  eternal  consolation  to 
the  Christian. 

"  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled." 

Of  course  I  could  not  be  sure  that  the  soldier  had  read  these  words 
last,  and  yet  it  was  very  beautiful  to  think  so.  His  comrades  told 
me  how  his  life  had  been  like  a  Sabbath  psalm  and  his  death  like 
the  entrance  into  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

As  one  by  one  the  dead  man's  comrades  were  taken  to  the  hospital, 
they  left  their  earnest  injunctions  with  me  to  see  that  he  was  decently 
and  tenderly  buried,  for  his  mother's  and  sisters'  sake — that  the  beau 
tiful  life  might  end  in  a  beautiful  grave. 

Rev.  E.  P.  Goodwin1  went  to  Pittsburg  Landing,  from 
the  State  of  Ohio,  on  an  errand  similar  to  that  of  Mr. 
Burnell.  He  says : 

Inspector  Eeed,  of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  told  me  this  story  of 
a  hospital  scene  in  Nashville  a  short  time  after  the  battle :  "  Private 
Andrew  McGurk,  of  the  llth  Illinois  Regiment,  was  dying  of  typhoid 


Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Columbus,  Ohio. 


PITTSBUEG   LANDING.  77 

fever.     He  lay  near  a  window  of  the  hospital,  and 

.  .  ,  ,     .   ,         „  Al  In  the  Battle 

as  he  looked  out,  his  eye  always  caught  sight  01  the          ^  ^agt 

flag  floating   from  the  dome  of  the  Capitol.      His 
regiment  had  been  fearfully  cut  up  at  Fort  Donelson.     And  after 
Shiloh,  they  were   almost   wholly  employed   as   orderlies   and   for 
special  duty.     In  his  delirium,  the  poor  fellow  seemed  to  get  back 
into  the  fight  again.     He  broke  out  into  a  kind  of  whisper — 

" '  Fought — till — almost — the — last — man — fell.' 

"Then  catching  sight  of  the  ever-waving  banner  on  the  dome,  he 
articulated  with  difficulty  again — 

"  'Ah  !— the— old— flag !— It— waves— still.' 

"  Very  soon  afterwards  he  expired." 

Returning  from  the  Landing,  two  incidents  occurred, 
which  Rev.  Mr.  Goodwin  records : 

On    the   boat   there   was   an  intelligent  German,  very  low  with 
pneumonia ;  we  worked  with  him  a  long  time,  trying  to  restore  con 
sciousness,  but  he  was  too  far  gone.     The  question  had  been  raised 
as  to  who  he  Avas  ?     Searching  in  his   pockets,  we 
found  two   or  three  letters ;  one  was  from  his  wife,        amon   the  Let- 
in  very  broken  English.     It  appeared  that  he  had        ters. 
been  only  very  recently  married.     She  wrote  with 
out  any  knowledge  of  his  sickness,   and  gave  a  simple,  touching 
account  of  the  death  of  their  little  child : 

"  Dear  Philip,  do  come  home.  If  you  can't  come,  I  want  you  to 
write  something  to  put  on  baby's  tombstone." 

Right  among  the  precious  letters,  was  a  little  tract,  like  many  af 
terwards  circulated  by  the  Christian  Commission.  It  had  on  it  the 
soldier's  name,  Philip  Schaub  ;  and  was  endorsed,  "  Presented  by 
Chaplain  Chidlaw." 

We  knew  little  of  the  dying  man.  But  the  discovery  of  the  few 
pages  wrapped  up  with  the  letters  from  home  and  lying  so  close  to 
his  heart,  led  us  to  hope  that  the  father  had  gone  to  the  baby's 
home  in  the  better  land. 

A  number  of  the  poor  fellows  we  had  on  board  died  as  we  came 
down  the  river  towards  Fort  Henry.  I  told  Dr.  Smith,  our  Surgeon- 
General,  that  we  ought  to  pay  some  special  attention  to  the  last  sad 


78  CHEISTIAX    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

AT      ,  rites  of  these.     One  of  them  was  a  German  who  had 

Nameless  Graves. 

left  among  his  memoranda  some  remarkable  expres 

sions  of  attachment  to  the  country  of  his  adoption.  As  we  ap 
proached  the  shore,  the  steamer's  head  was  put  to,  the  bell  tolled  — 
and  there,  under  the  long  ruins  by  the  bank,  close  beside  which  were 
opened  the  fresh  graves,  we  committed  "dust  to  dust,  ashes  to  ashes." 
The  silent  company  with  uncovered  heads  bowed,  while  a  brief  prayer 
was  offered  and  a  few  last  words  uttered.  It  was  a  simple  scene  _ 
too  simple  to  attract  the  notice  of  the  hurrying  world,  but  it  was  the 
burial  of  men  who  had  died  that  we  might  live,  and  we  could  not 
tell,  as  we  cast  our  last  looks  upon  the  silent,  nameless  graves,  how 
many  hearts  would  ache,  how  many  lives  be  saddened,  to  hear  of 
our  mournful  work. 

Many  of  the  wounded  were  brought  to  Cincinnati  af 
ter  the  battle.  Mr.  A.  E.  Chamberlain,1  of  that  city, 
visited  them  often,  in  the  Fourth  Street  Hospital.  Our 
reminiscences  of  Pittsburg  Landing  may  close  with 
his  : 

A  poor  fellow  was  brought  in,  whose  right  arm  was  almost  shot 
into  pieces.  I  found  him  a  very  bright  Christian.  The  Surgeon 
told  me  he  must  die  :  "  It  is  no  use  to  take  off  his  arm.  It  will  not 
nim-"  So  his  father  was  telegraphed.  He  came 


The  Prat  er  of 

Faith.  next  morning  ancl  went  in  to  see  his  boy.     He  stood 

up  in  our  daily  prayer  meeting  at  noon,  with  this 
request  — 

"  Brethren,  I  have  great  faith  in  the  power  of  prayer.  I  have  a 
son  in  Fourth  Street  Hospital.  The  Surgeon  says  he  must  die.  I 
believe  if  you  will  pray  God  to  restore  him  to  health,  He  will  do  it. 
Will  you  not  pray  ?" 

The  request  struck  us  as  very  strange  ;  but  prayer  was  offered  as 
the  old  man  had  requested. 

The  next  day,  I  went  into  the  hospital.     Surgeon  Norton  met  me  : 


1  Afterwards  the  Chairman  of  the  Cincinnati  Branch ;  and  until  the  close  of  the 
war,  an  earnest  worker  for  the  soldiers. 


CINCINNATI    HOSPITALS.  79 

"  Contrary  to  all  our  expectations,  sir,  that  young  man  you  are 
interested  in  is  improving." 

He  grew  better  every  day.  Once  afterwards,  I  found  the  father 
sitting  by  his  son's  cot.  Dr.  Norton  came  along. 

"  Tell  me,  Doctor,"  said  I,  "  how  do  you  account  for  this  ?  You 
physicians  told  me  he  was  going  to  die ;  how  do  you  explain  his  con 
dition  to-day?" 

"  Well,  sir,"  replied  the  Surgeon,  "  I  can  only  say  that  I  consider 
it  a  miracle.  It  is  not  anything  we  did." 

"  Doctor,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I  can  explain  it.  God  has  heard 
the  prayers  of  His  people  in  behalf  of  this  boy." 

The  Surgeon  passed  on  in  silence. 

A  week  or  so  after  that,  the  soldier  went  home  on  a  furlough,  safe 
and  sound. 

The  cot  of  one  soldier  whom  I  visited  was  in  the  upper  ward  of 
the  hospital,  at  the  very  end  of  the  room.  He  was  a  handsome, 
noble-looking  boy.  Indeed  his  appearance  quite  deceived  me,  he 

was  so  like  a  young  man  in  perfect  health.     I  said 

/  *  Coming  to  Jesus. 

as  much  to  him,  when  he  replied — 

"  I  suppose  I  do  look  well,  but  the  physician  says  I  must  die.  My 
wound  is  a  bad  one ;  and  I  am  only  waiting  here  for  my  life  to  pass 
away." 

"Are  you  a  Christian  ?"  I  asked. 

"  No,  sir ;  but  I  want  to  be  very  much." 

I  prayed  with  him  and  gave  him  Newman  Hall's  little  book,  Come 
to  Jesus. 

II  That's  just  what  I  want  to  do,  sir." 

"  That  little  book  will  tell  you  how  to  come,  I  trust ;"  and  after 
some  further  conversation  I  left  him. 

Next  morning  I  thought  a  good  deal  about  him,  and  finally  went 
round  to  the  hospital  again.  His  bed  was  in  such  a  position  that  he 
could  see  me  as  I  came  up  the  stairway,  and  I  found  that  he  was 
anxiously  watching  for  me. 

"  I  was  so  afraid  you  wouldn't  come  in  this  morning,"  was  his 
greeting.  "  The  Surgeon  says  I  will  probably  die  during  the  day;  and 
I  didn't  want  to  die  until  I  saw  you  and  thanked  you  for  giving  me 
that  little  book.  Everything  for  the  future  is  bright  and  pleasant 


80  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  Surgeon's  words  were  true.  He  died  that  day,  "  Coming  to 
Jesus"  indeed. 

A  month  after  Pittsburg  Landing,  I  was  getting  on  a  train  for  the 
West  at  Seneca  Falls,  N.  Y.,  when  a  Baptist  Deacon  of  the  village, 
whom  I  well  knew,  caught  sight  of  me  and  shouted  out  that  his  son 

George  was  in  Fourth  St.  Hospital,  Cincinnati,  about 
Thanking  God  n.  ~.     .     . 

,  ,  -rrr      j  to  die  nud  not  a  Christian.     As  soon  as  I  reached 

JOT     rr  OUtlCtS • 

home  the  next  day  I  went  to  see  him.  His  right  arm 
had  been  taken  off  at  the  shoulder,  and  he  felt  very  much  dejected. 
I  talked  with  him  long  and  earnestly ;  and  mentioning  the  case  to 
Rev.  Mr.  Robinson,  a  Baptist  clergyman  of  the  city,  the  soldier  re 
ceived  many  visits  from  that  gentleman.  He  became  a  Christian, 
Rev.  Mr.  Robinson  told  me  afterwards. 

I  asked  him  just  before  he  died,  whether  he  did  not  think  it  hard 
to  die  in  the  hospital. 

"  No,  sir,"  was  his  reply ;  "  I  thank  God  I  ever  entered  the  army, 
because  if  I  had  not,  I  would  never  have  lost  this  arm ;  and  if  I 
hadn't  lost  that,  I  would  never  have  been  brought  to  this  hospital ; 
and  if  not  brought  here,  I  would  probably  never  have  found  Christ." 

Mr.  Robinson  was  bidding  him  good-bye,  when  the  man  thanked 
him  earnestly  for  his  care  and  attention. 

"  It  will  be  but  a  very  few  days,  sir,  before  we  will  be  together 

again  in  the  New  Jerusalem.     I  shall  wait  for  you 

Not  long  Parted.  J 

there." 

On  the  next  day  the  soldier  was  buried.  Only  a  few  days  had 
passed,  when  Rev.  Mr.  Robinson  was  himself  taken  down  with  typhoid 
fever  and  died.  So  that  the  convert  had  not  long  to  wait  for  the 
coming  of  his  guide  and  friend.  The  soldier's  case,  his  dying  words, 
and  Rev.  Mr.  Robinson's  sudden  decease  excited  a  profound  interest 
throughout  the  city. 

The  Deacon's  son  was  the  last  of  a  family  of  seven  or  eight  chil 
dren  to  find  the  Saviour.  He  entered  the  army  from  Hillsdale, 
Michigan. 

Gen.  Buell  left  Corinth  in  June,  moving  East  towards 
Chattanooga.  Bragg,  the  new  Confederate  commander, 
determined  on  a  bold  movement.  In  the  close  of  August, 


PEEEYVILLE.  81 

crossing  the  Tennessee  a  few  miles  above  Chattanooga, 
he  hastened  northward  into  Kentucky.  Meeting  with 
no  serious  opposition,  he  soon  succeeded  in  thoroughly 
alarming  Louisville  and  Cincinnati.  Buell,  leaving 
Nashville  as  well  garrisoned  as  he  could,  hastened  to 
Louisville,  and  arrived  only  a  few  hours  in  advance  of 
the  enemy.  Bragg  retreated  slowly;  Buell  following 
cautiously  until  October  8th,  when  the  indecisive  battle 
of  Perryville  was  fought.  Bragg  continued  his  retreat, 
but  moving  more  rapidly. 

Rev.  B.  W.  Chidlaw1  was  Chaplain  of  an  Ohio  regi 
ment  engaged  in  this  battle,  and  afterwards  worked  un 
tiringly  among  the  wounded.  He  writes  : 

In  making  my  way  to  the  door,  passing  between  two  rows  of  suffer 
ers,  in  one  of  the  village  meeting-houses,  where  over  a  hundred  of 
the  victims  of  the  battle-field  were  lying,  I  felt  some  one  pull  at 
my  coat.     I  turned  round,  and  a  poor  fellow  said — 
'"Preacher,  are  you  in  a  hurry?" 

"  No,  my  friend  ;  what  do  you  wish  ?" 

"Well,  I  am  not  like  John  over  there;  he  is  ready  to  die,  and 
knows  what  is  to  become  of  him  after  death.  I  am  in  the  dark.  I 
am  not  like  him ;  tell  me,  oh  tell  me,  what  I  must  do  to  be  saved  ?" 

Poor  man !  he  had  neglected  his  soul's  salvation  and  the  Bible ; 
deep  darkness  brooded  over  his  awakened  mind ;  but  he  was  now 
honestly  and  earnestly  inquiring  the  way  to  be  saved.  Blessed  priv 
ilege  to  tell  him  of  Jesus,  the  sinner's  friend, — of  the  salvation  of 
the  dying  thief  on  the  cross,  and  of  that  comrade  John  on  his  cot, 
who  knew  the  Lord  and  trusted  in  Him.  The  prayer  of  the  publi 
can,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,"  filled  his  soul,  and  found 
utterance  from  his  lips,  and  who  can  doubt  that  it  reached  the  ears 


1  Of  Cleves,  Ohio, — the  well-known  Western  Agent  of  the  American  Sunday- 
School  Union.     Later  in  the  war  he  was  connected  with  the  Cincinnati  Branch 
of  the  Commission,  as  General  Agent. 
6 


82  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

of  our  merciful  and  faithful  High  Priest,  "Who  can  have  compassion 
on  the  ignorant  and  them  that  are  out  of  the  way  ?" 

Mr.  Chidlaw  continues : 

In  an  old  tavern  at  Lebanon,  Ky.,  used  as  a  hospital  for  the 
wounded  from  Perryville,  was  a  brave  youth  of  an  Ohio  regiment, 
seriously  wounded,  yet  cheerful,  patient  and  happy.     "With  the  bene 
factions  of  kind  friends  at  home,  I  was  enabled  to  re- 

A     Deserter        ...         ,  .        ,       .      ,  ,  ,.     ' 

Mmtered  in  e         physical  wants,  adding  greatly  to  his  com 

fort  while  lying  on  his  bed  of  straw.  I  found  that 
though  he  had  been  a  Sunday-school  scholar,  yet  he  had  never  pro 
fessed  his  faith  in  Christ.  He  was  anxious  now  to  do  so  ;  and  such 
was  the  clearness  and  fullness  of  the  evidence  which  he  gave  me  of 
his  entire  trust  in  Christ,  that  I  baptized  him  as  he  lay  among  his 
comrades,  who  looked  upon  the  ceremony  with  a  mixture  of  awe 
and  wonder  and  silence.  After  commending  this  dear  brother  in 
Christ,  and  all  his  companions,  to  the  care  and  blessing  of  the  God 
of  all  grace  and  consolation,  I  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  when 
another  soldier,  with  a  tremulous  voice,  said  to  me — 

"  O  brother,  I  am  a  deserter." 

"  Why  no,  my  friend,  you  are  not  a  deserter ;  where  did  you  lose 
your  limb?" 

"  It  was  cut  off  the  night  after  the  battle,  and  I  am  willing  to  fight 
and  to  die  for  my  country.  But  three  years  ago  I  joined  the  church 
at  home  in  Indiana,  but  alas!  I  wandered  from  God,  I  left  the  ranks, 
and  deserted  to  the  enemy.  Oh !  how  I  have  sinned  against  God 
and  my  own  soul !  Kow,  I  want  to  re-enlist;  will  you  muster  me  in?" 

I  soon  was  fully  persuaded  that  the  soldier's  wish  to  be  again  mus 
tered  in  was  from  a  full  and  penitent  heart.  I  gave  him  my  hand, 
as  he  renewed  his  vows  of  fidelity,  and  welcomed  him  back  to  the 
Lord's  ranks ;  bowed  down  with  wonder  at  His  mercy  who  could 
make  even  the  room  of  pain  in  the  old  Lebanon  tavern  the  very 
House  of  God  and  the  Gate  of  Heaven. 

Chaplain  J.  C.  Thomas,  afterwards  General  Reading 
Agent  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland,  was  at  this  bat 
tle  with  his  regiment,  the  83d  Illinois.  He  says : 


PERRYVILLE.  83 

While  the  battle  was  in  progress,  I  was  at  a  house,  ministering  to 
the  wounded.  A  soldier  shot  through  the  abdomen  lay  writhing  on 
the  floor.  Stooping  down  by  him,  I  asked — 

"  Do  you  love  the  Saviour  ?" 

*  .  "Happy  in  J&w." 

Ihe  lines  or  agony  instantly  disappeared  and  a 

smile  of  joy  lighted  up  his  countenance  as  he  said — 

"  Oh,  yes,  and  now  He  does  not  forsake  me." 

The  next  morning,  while  passing  near,  a  hand  pressed  my  shoulder; 
I  turned,  and  the  soldier's  comrade  said  eagerly — 

"  You  remember  the  man  who  lay  here  in  such  pain  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  He  is  dead." 

"  How  did  he  die  ?" 

"  Happy  in  Jesus." 

In  certain  circumstances  the  simplest  words  in  a 
soldier's  mouth  became  pregnant  with  the  real  history 
of  a  soul : 

One  of  the  wounded  at  Perryville,  when  told  by  the  Surgeon  that 
he  had  just  five  minutes  to  live,  replied — • 

"This  is  the  best  moment  of  my  life.     It  grows       «.  1/^jf7 
brighter  and  brighter.-" 

And  then  he  went  away  into  the  country  where  light  dwells. 


When  Buell  started  north  after  Bragg,  Rosecrans  was 
in  command  in  Northern  Mississippi  and  Alabama. 
Battles  were  fought  and  the  Rebels  defeated  by  him  at 
luka  and  Corinth,  in  September  and  October.  A  few 
days  after  the  last  conflict  he  superseded  Buell.  The 
army  had  been  much  reduced  by  its  hard  battles  and 
long  marches ;  the  enemy's  raids  too,  were  a  source  of 
continual  impediment ;  so  that  a  careful  work  of  organi 
zation  was  now  necessary.  When  this  was  completed, 
Rosecrans  moved  forward  from  Nashville  against  Bragg, 


84  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

December  26th,  1862.  On  the  last  day  of  the  year  the 
terrible  battles  of  Stone  Elver  began.  On  the  first  day 
of  the  New  Year  the  armies  watched  each  other.  Or 
the  second,  the  Union  forces  had  the  advantage ;  and  or> 
the  night  of  the  third,  the  enemy  evacuated  Murfrees- 
boro'.  Colonel  Granville  Moody,  better  known  in  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland  as  the  "Fighting  Parson," 
relates  an  interesting  piece  of  the  history  of  the  move 
ments  which  preceded  this  battle : 

The  advance  from  Nashville  began  near  the  close  of  the  week. 

Rain,  mud  and  mist  were  the  order  of  the  day.     The  enemy's  cavalry 

were  harassing  the  front.     The  march   under  such  difficulties  made 

the  troops  unusually  weary.       Gen.  Rosccrans  called 

n   <e   a9l       a  council  of  war  to  ask  his   generals'   opinions  on 
SK/e  of  the   Old  ^  . 

Muster."  several  matters  connected  with  the  movement.     The 

question  was  raised,  Shall  the  army  march  or  rest  on 
Sunday  ?  The  decision  was  doubtful.  Some  thought  that  a  day 
would  be  lost  thus ;  others  suggested  that  the  troops  needed  rest.  At 
last,  after  nearly  all  had  given  their  opinion,  Gen.  Crittenden,  who 
had  been  stalking  back  and  forth  under  the  trees  during  the  discus 
sion,  was  asked  for  his  judgment.  Turning  round  towards  the  group, 
and  pointing  his  finger  solemnly  upward  towards  the  wet  sky,  he 
said  earnestly — 

"  Gentlemen,  I  don't  know  how  you  feel  about  that,  but  we  are 
going  into  a  battle  in  a  day  or  two,  and  I  always  have  thought  it 
best  to  be  on  the  right  side  of  the  Old  Master.  The  army  can  wait," 

That  Sunday  the  soldiers  rested. 

At  11  P.  M.  of  the  first  day  of  the  battle,  a  party  of 
thirty-two  Delegates,  well  equipped  and  supplied,  started 
from  Philadelphia  for  the  scene  of  slaughter.  A 
company  from  the  Chicago  Army  Committee,  on  the 
same  errand,  found  them  at  Nashville.  This  was  the 
herald  of  an  organized  and  precious  work,  soon  to  be  in- 


STONE    EIVEE.  85 

augurated  in  the  Cumberland  Army.  Rev.  A.  G. 
McAuley,1  who  headed  the  Philadelphia  deputation, 
relates  the  following  incident : 

At  this  battle,  Captain  B.  F.  Haskett,  Co.  C,  51st  Ohio  Vols.,  was 
mortally  wounded.  He  was  carried  to  an  old  house  near  the  field, 
which  was  used  as  a  hospital.  The  Surgeon  saw  at  once  that  his 

case  was  hopeless,  and  began  to  ask  him  his  name, 

P  mi         i    •  -IT  i  n  The  Captain's 

regiment,   &c.       Ihe   dying  soldier  was  unable   to      J£  'ta  h 

speak  and  signed  for  writing  materials.     Paper  and 
pencil  were  given  him.     With  a  tremulous  hand  he  wrote : 

"  Take  me  to  my  home  in  Knox  co.,  Ohio,  and  there  let  me  be 
buried  beside  my  wife.  Let  there  be  a  monument  erected,  and  on  it 
let  it  be  written :  'All  with  me  is  well :  I  died  in  the  cause  of  my 
country — a  cause  second  to  none,  save  the  cause  of  my  blessed  Re 
deemer  in  whom  I  trusted  in  life,  and  who  did  not  forsake  me  in 
death.  Meet  me  in  heaven.' " 

Soon  after  the  Christian  soldier  expired. 

Sometimes  the  same  blessed  peace  of  God  in  the  heart 
needed  no  words  of  the  sufferer's  own  to  make  it  mani 
fest.  Again  and  again,  in  hospital  and  on  the  field,  it 
shone  into  the  very  eyes  of  Death,  imprinting  upon  the 
untenanted  body  some  picture  of  the  Everlasting  Hope : 

During  one  of  the  lulls  of  the  terrible  fight,  a  youthful  voice  was 
heard  calling  for  aid.     Soon  it  was  drowned  by  the  tumult  of  battle. 
After  the  fight  was  over,  some  soldiers  went  to  look  for  the  sufferer. 
On  going  through  some  high  bushes,  they  saw  a  boy 
of  about  sixteen  sitting  up  against  a  tree.     As  they       ,.,  „ 
came  nearer,  they  found  that  both  his  feet  had  been 
carried  away  by  a  cannon   ball.     Upon  his  lap,  above  the  bloody 
stumps,  lay  his  open  Bible.     His  eyes  were  raised  to  heaven.     A 
look  of  joy  was  on  his  face,  while  his  finger,  stiff  and  cold  in  death, 
was  laid  upon  this  verse  of  the  23d  Psalm  : 

"Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  and  shadow  of  death,  I 

1  Pastor  of  the  Fifth  Eeformed  Presbyterian  Church,  Philadelphia. 


86  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

will  fear  no  evil,  for  Thou  art  with  me.     Thy  rod  and  Thy  staff  they 
comfort  me." l 

Chaplain  C.  C.  McCabe,2  afterwards  a  Christian  Com 
mission  Agent,  gives  the  story  of  one  of  the  wounded  at 
Stone  River,  who  was  taken  to  a  hospital  in  Nashville : 

A  wounded  hero  was  lying  on  the  amputating  table,  under  the 

influence  of  chloroform.     They  cut  off  his  strong  right  arm  and  cast 

it  all  bleeding  upon  the  pile  of  human  limbs.     They  then  laid  him 

gently  upon  his  couch.     He  awoke  from  his  stupor 

and  missed  his  arm.  With  his  left  hand  he  lifted 
Arm  ! 

th?  cloth,  and  there  was  nothing  but  the  gory 
stump ! 

"  Where's  my  arm  T'  he  cried,  "  get  my  arm  ;  I  want  to  see  it  once 
more." 

They  brought  it  to  him.  He  took  hold  of  the  cold,  clammy  fin 
gers,  and  looking  steadfastly  at  the  poor  dead  member,  thus  addressed 
it,  with  tearful  earnestness — 

"  Good-bye,  old  arm  !  We  have  been  a  long  time  together.  We 
must  part  now.  Good-bye,  old  arm  !  You'll  never  fire  another 
carbine  nor  swing  another  sabre  for  the  government,"  and  the  tears 
rolled  down  his  cheeks. 

Looking  round  on  those  standing  by,  he  said — 

"  Understand,  I  don't  regret  its  loss.  It  has  been  torn  from  my 
body,  that  not  one  State  should  be  torn  from  this  glorious  Union." 

Was  not  the  poet  speaking  for  him  when  he  sung  t — 

"  Some  things  are  worthless,  some  others  so  good 
That  nations  that  buy  them  pay  only  in  blood ; 
For  Freedom  and  Union  each  man  owes  his  part, 
And  here  I  pay  my  share,  all  warm  from  my  heart." 

Mr.  A.  E.  Chamberlain  met  some  of  the  wounded 
from  this  field  in  the  Cincinnati  hospitals.  He  writes 
of  an  interview  with  one  of  them : 


1  Related  by  Chaplain  Crozier,  37th  Indiana  Regiment. 

2  Of  121st  Ohio.     A  member  of  Ohio  Conference,  M.  E.  Church. 


CINCINNATI    HOSPITALS.  87 

I  found  a  man  from  Stone  River,  near  the  door  of  Washington 
Park  Hospital,  just  as  I  was  going  out.  I  handed  him  a  little  book. 
Without  a  word,  he  threw  it  on  the  stand  by  his  bed.  No  soldier 
had  ever  done  the  like  to  me  before.  I  stepped  up  ^  Backslider 
closer  to  his  cot.  There  was  another  little  book  in 
my  hand,  The  Sinner's  Welcome  to  Come  to  Christ.  I  noticed  that 
the  title  immediately  caught  his  eye.  I  thought  I  would  hold  it, 
while  I  talked  with  him,  so  that  he  could  still  see  it.  Not  saying 
anything  about  the  way  in  which  he  had  acted,  I  told  him  that  I  felt 
interested  in  him  and  would  like  to  know  if  he  was  a  Christian. 

"  No,  and  I  don't  want  to  be." 

"  Can  you  give  me  a  good  reason  for  not  being  one  ?" 

"  No,  and  I  don't  care  whether  I  can  or  not." 

We  talked  on  a  little  while,  his  answers  being  as  curt  and  mono 
syllabic  as  possible.  I  found  out  that  he  had  a  wife  and  three  chil 
dren.  His  wife  was  a  praying  woman.  Quite  suddenly  the  thought 
came  to  me,  he  is  a  "  backslider."  I  determined  to  test  its  truth  by 
asking  him  a  decisive  question  : 

"  My  dear  sir,  haven't  you  been  a  praying  man  ?" 

I  was  entirely  unprepared  for  the  shock  which  at  once  seemed  to 
convulse  his  whole  frame: 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  have ;  but  I  have  departed  further  from  God  than  any 
poor  sinner  ever  did." 

He  was  fairly  broken  down,  and  told  me  how  happy  he  was  when 
he  had  had  a  family  altar : 

"  First  of  all,  sir,  I  forgot  to  pray  to  God,  myself,  in  secret.  Then 
I  threw  my  Bible  away,  and  now  I  haven't  read  in  one  for 
months." 

I  observed  that  he  still  kept  watching  the  little  book  I  held  in  my 
hands,  so  I  gave  it  to  him. 

"  Do  you  suppose  Jesus  would  receive  such  a  backslider  as  I  am  ?" 

I  told  him  about  the  "  chief  of  sinners,"  and  kneeling  down,  prayed 
with  him.  He  was  convalescent  then,  and  was  to  go,  the  next  morn 
ing,  to  his  regiment.  I  gave  him  a  Testament  with  the  little  books, 
and  commending  him  to  the  care  of  the  Shepherd  who  looks  after 
His  wandering  sheep,  left  him.  He  gave  me  his  promise,  evidently 
one  which  he  meant  to  keep,  to  read  the  Testament  often  and  to  be 
continually  mindful  of  secret  prayer. 


CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Missouri  had  all  along  been  much  annoyed  by  guer 
rillas  and  "bushwhackers,"  as  well  as  by  more  formidable 
movements  from  Arkansas.  In  the  summer  of  1862, 
several  new  regiments  were  raised  for  State  defence. 
Among  these  was  the  33d  Missouri,  a  St.  Louis  regi 
ment,  recruited  by  Clinton  B.  Fisk1  of  that  city. 

While  the  regiment  was  organizing  at  Benton  Barracks,  Col.  Fisk 
.  was  in  the  habit  of  conducting  religious  meetings  with  his   men  in 
the  great  amphitheatre  of  the  St.  Louis  fair  grounds.     These  meet 
ings  were-  of  great  interest.     Thousands  of  citizens 

Swearing  for  a  . 

Regiment.  were  regularl7  m  attendance  to  join  in  the  services, 

and  some  one  of  the  loyal  clergymen  was  present 
each  Sabbath  to  preach.  One  Sabbath,  Eev.  Dr.  Nelson,  of  the  First 
Presbyterian  Church,  was  preaching  earnestly  upon  the  necessity  of 
a  pure  life,  exhorting  the  men  to  beware  of  the  vices  incident  to  the 
camp,  and  especially  warning  them  against  profanity.  The  Doctor 
related  the  incident  of  the  Commodore  who,  whenever  recruits  re 
ported  to  his  vessel  for  duty,  was  in  the  habit  of  entering  into  an 
agreement  with  them  that  he  should  do  all  the  swearing  for  that  ves 
sel  ;  and  appealed  to  the  thousand  Missouri  soldiers  in  Colonel  Fisk's 
regiment  to  enter  into  a  solemn  covenant  that  day  with  the  Colonel 
that  he  should  do  all  the  swearing  for  the  Thirty-third  Missouri. 
The  regiment  rose  to  their  feet  as  one  man  and  entered  into  the  cov 
enant.  It  was  a  grand  spectacle. 

For  several  months  no  swearing  was  heard  in  the  regiment.  Col. 
Fisk  became  a  Brigadier,  and  followed  Price  into  Arkansas.  But 
one  evening2  as  he  sat  in  front  of  his  headquarters  at  Helena,  he 

heard  some  one  down   in  the  bottom-lands  near  the 
"It  had  to  be         . 

done  Eight  off."       river'  swearillg  ni  the  m°st  approved  Flanders  style. 
On  taking  observation  he  discovered  that  the  swearer 


1  One  of  the  original   members  of  the  Christian  Commission,  and    a   most 
active  one  throughout  the  Avar.      His   headquarters  were  always  well  stocked 
with  the  Scriptures,  hymn  books  and  religious  newspapers.     A  card  was  promi 
nently  posted  up — "  'SWEAR  NOT  AT  ALL.'     Attention  is  called  to  the  3d  Com 
mandment,  and  the  3d  Article  of  War." 

2  February,  1803. 


IN    AKKAXSAS.  89 

was  a  teamster  from  his  own  headquarters,  a  member  of  his  cove 
nanting  regiment,  and  a  confidential  old  friend.  He  was  hauling  a 
heavy  load  of  forage  from  the  depot  to  camp ;  his  six  mules  had  be 
come  rebellious  with  their  overload,  had  run  the  wagon  against  a 
stump  and  snapped  off  the  pole.  The  teamster  opened  his  great 
batteries  of  wrath  and  profanity  against  the  mules,  the  wagon,  the 
Arkansas  mud,  the  Rebels,  and  JefF  Davis.  In  the  course  of  an  hour 
afterwards,  as  the  teamster  was  passing  headquarters,  the  General 
called  to  him  and  said,  "  John,  did  I  not  hear  some  one  swearing 
most  terribly  an  hour  ago  down  on  the  bottom  ?" 

"  I  think  you  did,  General." 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  was?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  it  was  me,  General." 

"  Do  you  not  remember  the  covenant  entered  into  at  Benton  Bar 
racks,  St.  Louis,  with  Rev.  Dr.  Nelson,  that  1  should  do  all  the 
swearing  for  our  old  regiment?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  do,  General,"  said  John  ;  "  but  then  you  were  not 
there  to  do  it,  and  it  had  to  be  done  right  off!" 

Gen.  Fisk  related  this  story  in  January,  1865,  in  the  hearing  of 
President  Lincoln,  at  the  Anniversary  Meeting  of  the  Commission, 
in  the  Hall  of  the  House  of  Representatives  at  Washington.  The 
President,  if  one  might  judge  from  his  demonstra 
tions  on  the  occasion,  enjoyed  the  incident  hugely.  ,  ,  „- 
The  next  morning,  Gen.  Fisk  was  waiting  in  the 
ante-room  at  the  White  House  to  see  Mr.  Lincoln.  A  poor  old  man 
from  Tennessee  was  moving  about,  among  the  large  number  in 
attendance,  with  a  very  sorrowful  face.  Sitting  down  beside  him,  the 
General  inquired  his  errand,  and  learned  that  he  had  been  waiting 
three  or  four  days  to  get  an  audience.  On  seeing  Mr.  Lincoln 
probably  depended  the  life  of  his  son,  who  was  under  sentence  of 
death  at  Nashville  for  some  military  offence.  Gen.  Fisk  wrote  his 
case  in  outline  on  a  card,  and  sent  it  in  with  a  special  request  that 
the  President  would  see  the  man.  In  a  moment  the  order  came,  and 
past  Senators,  Governors  and  Generals,  waiting  impatiently,  the  old 
man  was  ushered  into  the  President's  presence.  He  showed  Mr. 
Lincoln  his  papers.  He  took  them  and  said  with  great  kindness  that 
ta  would  look  into  them,  and  give  him  an  answer  on  the  following 


90  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

day.  The  old  man,  in  an  agony  of  apprehension,  looked  up  into  the 
President's  sympathetic  face,  and  cried  aloud — 

"  To-morrow  may  be  too  late.  My  son  is  under  sentence  of  death. 
The  decision  must  be  made  right  off." 

The  tall  form  of  Mr.  Lincoln  bent  over  the  old  man  in  an  instant. 
"  Come,"  said  he,  "  wait  a  bit ;  that  '  right  off'  reminds  me  of  a 
story."  And  then  he  went  on  to  relate  the  case  of  "  John  Todd," 
which  Gen.  Fisk  had  told  the  evening  before.  As  he  told  it,  the  old 
man  became  interested ;  for  a  moment  he  forgot  his  boy  and  sorrow, 
and  President  and  listener  laughed  heartily  together. 

Mr.  Lincoln  took  up  the  papers  again,  and  bent  over  them  a  sec 
ond  to  write  a  few  magic  words.  The  old  man's  eyes  were  filled  with 
tears  again  when  he  read  them ;  but  now  they  were  tears  of  joy,  for 
the  words  had  saved  the  life  of  his  boy. 


CHAPTEE  IY. 

THE    WESTERN  ARMIES. 

FROM    AFTER    THE    STONE    RIVER     BATTLES    UNTIL    THE    SURRENDER    OF 

VICKSBURG. 

January  1863— July  1863. 

THE  Army  of  Gen.  Rosecrans  remained  inactive  at 
Murfreesboro'  until  midsummer  of  1863.  This  period 
of  comparative  quiet  afforded  a  rare  opportunity  for 
inaugurating  more  fully  the  work  of  the  Commission. 
Eev.  Edward  P.  Smith1  was  appointed  the  General  Field 
Agent  in  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland,  and  entered  the 
lines,  with  several  Delegates,  early  in  April.  Organi 
zation  was  at  once  begun,  and  the  work  in  the  army, 
with  Nashville  as  the  centre  of  operations,  became 
thenceforth  rich  in  effort  and  in  fruit. 

The  first  Delegates  carried,  along  with  their  other 
stores,  some  children's  gifts  and  letters  to  soldiers.  The 
history  of  one  of  these  mementos  has  been  accurately 
traced,  and  is  of  peculiar  interest : 

A  little  girl  in  Philadelphia,  about  seven  years  of  age,  sent,  with  a 
Testament,  to  "  some  sick  soldier"  in  the  hospitals  at  Nashville,  the 
following  letter : 

PHILADELPHIA,  April  17,  1863. 

MY  DEAR  SOLDIER  : — I  send  you  a  little  Testament.  I  am  a  little 
girl  seven  years  old.  I  want  to  do  something  for  Little  Lizzie's 
the  soldiers  who  do  so  much  for  us ;  so  I  have  saved  Letter. 


1  See  p.  129. 

91 


92  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

my  pocket  money  to  send  you  this.  Although  I  have  never 
seen  you,  I  intend  to  begin  to  pray  that  God  will  make  and  keep 
you  good.  Oh  how  sorry  I  am  that  you  have  to  leave  your  clear 
mother  !  Did  she  cry  when  you  bade  her  good-bye  ?  Don't  you 
often  think  of  her  at  night  when  you  are  going  to  bed  ?  Do  you 
kneel  down  and  say  your  prayers?  If  I  were  you,  I  wouldn't  care 
if  the  other  soldiers  did  laugh ;  God  will  smile  upon  you.  I  am 
sorry,  very  sorry  that  you  are  sick.  I  wish  I  could  go  to  nurse 
you.  I  could  bathe  your  head  and  read  to  you.  Do  you  know  the 
hymn — 

"There  is  a  happy  land?" 

I  hope  you  will  go  to  that  land  when  you  die.  But,  remember,  I 
will  pray  that  you  will  get  well  again.  When  you  are  able  to  sit  up, 
I  wish  you  to  write  to  me,  and  tell  me  all  your  troubles.  Enclosed 
you  will  find  a  postage  stamp.  I  live  at  -  -  North  Ninth  street, 

Philadelphia.     Good-bye. 

Your  friend, 

LIZZIE  SCOTT. 

Mr.  Caleb  J.  Milne,  a  Delegate  from  Philadelphia,  carried  the 
Testament  and  letter  to  Nashville.  Not  knowing  how  better  to  ful 
fill  Lizzie's  trust,  Mr.  Milne  determined,  one  evening  at  a  prayer 
meeting  in  the  convalescent  ward  of  Hospital  No.  8,  to  give  it  to  the 
first  man  who  should  ask  for  prayers.  When  the  invitation  was 
given,  the  first  man  upon  his  feet  was  a  Michigan  cavalryman.  He 
was  in  earnest  about  the  great  question  of  salvation,  and,  at  the  close 
of  the  meeting,  Mr.  Milne,  after  a  few  words  of  counsel,  handed  him 
the  child's  package, — with  what  effect  the  cavalryman's  letter,  written 
shortly  afterwards,  will  tell : 

NASHVILLE,  TEXN,  April  24,  1SP.3. 

DEAR  SISTER  LIZZIE: — I  received  your  kind  letter  from  Mr.  C. 
J.  M.  A  beautiful  present  indeed,  and  I  trust  that  it  will  be  one  of 
the  means  of  converting  others,  as  well  as  the  receiver.  May  God 
bless  the  giver !  You  have  done  a  good  work.  Continue  to  pray, 
dear  sister,  and  God  will  answer  you.  He  says  so  in  His  Word. 

My  dear  mother  is  in  the  grave.  It  is  nearly  eleven  years  since 
she  died ;  but  she  died  happy,  and  I  trust  I  shall  meet  her  in  heaven. 


NASHVILLE.  93 

I  will  try  and  pray  for  myself.  I  have  been  in  the  hospital  four 
mouths,  but  am  now  nearly  well;  will  be  able  to  join  my  regiment  to 
face  the  enemy ;  and  if  I  should  fall  on  the  battle-field,  I  may  have 
the  blessed  assurance  of  meeting  my  Saviour  in  peace. 

Yes,  "  there  is  a  happy  land."  May  we  meet  in  that  happy  land. 
I  do  not  think  that  my  fellow-soldiers  will  deter  me  from  serving 
my  Master.  There  are  many  others  here  that  His  Spirit  is  striving 
with. 

I  expect  to  go  home  to  see  my  dear  friends  once  more.  I  am  very 
thankful  that  the  privilege  is  granted,  and  I  trust  we  shall  have  a 
happy  meeting.  Dear  Lizzie,  I  must  close.  May  God  bless  you,  is 
my  prayer.  Write  me  again.  Address, 

Your  friend, 

STANLEY  NICHOLS,' 
Co.  F,  4th  Mich.  Cav.,  Nashville. 

The  Chaplains  of  the  army  worked  most  cordially 
with  the  Delegates,  and,  as  they  were  able,  undertook 
volunteer  labor  in  the  hospitals  of  Murfreesboro'.  Chap 
lain  Thomas2  gives  the  following  picture : 

One  Sunday,  I  distributed  reading  matter  throughout  the  nine  hos 
pitals  in  Murfreesboro'.  At  the  close  of  a  short  service  in  "  No.  8," 


1  Kev.  Thomas  Atkinson  gives  the  particulars  of  a  very  pleasant  interview 
with  Stanley  Nichols,  at  No.  8  Hospital,  Nashville,  about  Chickamauga  time. 
His  regiment  had  been  at  New  Albany,  Ind.,  and  was  going  forward  to  the  front. 
He  stopped  at  his  old  hospital  over  night,  to  see  some  former  friends.  "  When  I 
saw  him  first,  he  was  standing  late  at  night  beside  a  cot.  A  lamp  overhead  gave 
a  feeble  light.  He  was  the  very  picture  of  everything  manly  and  noble  and 
Christian.  I  stepped  forward  and  asked,  'Are  you  Stanley  Nichois?'  'Yes, 
sir.'  'Are  you  a  Christian  ?'  '  Yes,  thank  God  !'  '  Have  you  the  letter  you  got 
from  little  Lizzie?'  'Yes,  sir,'  said  he,  and  he  went  on  to  tell  me  of  the  influ 
ence  it  had  had  upon  his  life."  Mr.  Atkinson's  interview  resulted  in  the  publi 
cation,  by  the  American  Tract  Society  of  New  York,  of  the  original  correrpond- 
ence,  which  excited  such  deep  interest  throughout  the  country. 

Rev.  C.  S.  Armstrong,  Chaplain  of  Nichols'  regiment,  writes  us  that  he  ever 
found  him,  after  the  receipt  of  Lizzie's  letter,  a  true  Christian  soldier,  and  of 
great  service  to  him  in  his  work  among  the  men. 

52  See  p.  82. 


94  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

I  glanced  along  a  row  of  cots  to  see  if  there  were  any  bad  cases ; 

one  face  arrested  my  attention.    Approaching,  I  took 
Ready  to  Die.  .,  ,    ,         ,          n       ,      ,       ,,  1 

a  youth  s  hand,  and  asked  soitly — 

"  My  friend,  are  you  a  Christian  ?" 

Opening  his  eyes,  and  gradually  entering  into  the  full  meaning  of 
my  question,  he  answered — 

"  Oh,  yes ;"  then  pressing  my  hand,  with  increasing  earnestness  he 
added,  "  O  sir,  I'm  so  glad  you've  come  in  here." 

He  was  quiet  a  moment;  then  clasping  his  hands  as  though  he  were 
beholding  the  "  beatific  vision,"  he  exclaimed,  "  Glory  to  God !" 
His  brother,  much  affected,  was  at  his  side. 

Seeing  a  comrade  standing  near,  the  sick  man  called  him  to  his 
cot.  Taking  his  hand,  the  soldier  looked  up  into  his  comrade's  face 
and  asked  most  pleadingly — 

"  Tom,  won't  you  go  with  us  to  heaven  ?" 

Tom  began  to  melt,  but  not  replying,  the  dying  man  urged  the 
question  with  an  intense,  almost  painful  solicitude.  I  was  moved  to 
tears,  and  placing  my  hand  gently  on  Tom's  shoulder,  said — 

"  Tom,  won't  you  go  with  us  ?" 

"  I  will,  sir,"  was  the  answer  which  had  already  found  its  way  to 
his  lips. 

I  called  again  in  two  days ;  the  young  soldier  was  with  Jesus.  I 
learned  from  his  brother  how  they  both  had  escaped  from  the  Con 
federate  army,  and,  after  reaching  Nashville,  had  enlisted  on  the 
Union  side.  The  account  given  by  the  survivor  of  his  brother's  con 
version  was  a  symbol  of  his  life.  Sitting  in  his  tent,  a  large  "  Sib- 
ley,"  one  evening,  he  was  unusually  thoughtful.  The  rest  were 
playing  cards ;  there  came  a  lull  in  the  game.  He  broke  the 
silence : 

"  Boys,  I've  been  thinking  what  kind  of  a  life  I've  been  leading, 

TJ  T)  •  •  and  I'm  resolved  to  quit  sinning  and  begin  praying, 
— to  try  and  lead  a  Christian  life." 

There  were  no  taunts,  for  all  respected  him  as  a  faithful  soldier 
and  kind  messmate.  He  improved  every  opportunity  of  talking  with 
his  comrades,  and  so  judicious  and  persevering  was  he,  that  in  a  few 
weeks  all  swearing  and  card-playing  disappeared  from  the  mess. 
Continuing  to  serve  Christ,  we  have  seen  what  he  was  at  the  gates  of 
death. 


MUKFKEESBOKO'    HOSPITALS.  95 

Towards  the  close  of  April,  Rev.  Mr.  Smith  held  a 
Sabbath  service  in  the  General  Hospital  just  outside  of 
Murfreesboro'.  He  writes  of  it : 

After  service,  one  of  the  nurses  asked  me  to  go  down  to  Ward  E. 
&  sick  man  wanted  a  Chaplain.  Dutton1  and  I  went.  We  found 
him — an  East  Tennessean,  prostrate  with  fever,  a  tall,  athletic  man 

)f  middle  age,  evidentlv  wholly  unused  to  sickness. 

,  .  IP     i  •  "Thank   Him 

I  approached  him  cautiously,  saying  to  myself,  this      firsi» 

is  one  of  those  cases  of  religion  sought,  not  so  much 
because  the  man  wishes  for  it,  as  because  he  feels  that  he  must 
have  it.     He  would  not  have  God  when  he  was  well,  and  wants 
me  to  make  it  up  for  him  in  this  last  sickness.     So  I  began  a  long 
way  off: 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  in  this  trouble." 

He  interrupted  me — 

"  I'm  sick,  parson,  but  I'm  not  troubled ;  did  the  nurse  tell  you  I 
was  in  trouble?" 

His  cheerful  tone  and  sweet  smile  showed  me  my  mistake ;  that 
was  a  Christian's  voice ;  and  I  became  as  much  interested  to  test  his 
faith  as  I  had  been  before  distrustful  of  his  sincerity. 

"  You  are  very  sick  ?" 

"Yes,  and  A  heap  of  men  are  dying  in  this  hospital,  but  I  am  not 
troubled  ;  it's  all  right,  parson." 

"  You  have  a  wife  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"Children?" 

"Six." 

"  Do  they  know  at  home  how  you  are  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  he,  for  the  first  time  showing  emotion,  "  and  I  don't 
know  how  they  are,  but  I  ain't  troubled  about  'em.  You  see,  parson, 
when  the  Rebels  run  me  off,  my  wife  fed  me  in  the  bushes.  One  night 
she  came  to  tell  me  the  Rebels  were  getting  hot  after  me,  and  I  must 
go  directly.  We  knelt  down  by  a  gum  tree  and  prayed  together. 
She  gave  me  to  God,  and  I  gave  her  and  the  children  to  God ;  and 
then  made  for  the  Union  lines  and  enlisted.  I  haven't  heard  from 


1  Albert  I.  Dutton,  Student  of  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  Mass. 


96  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

them  since ;  that  was  eight  months  ago.  But  I  am  not  troubled 
about  'em.  It's  all  right,  parson — all  right." 

"  Why  did  you  send  for  me  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  wanted  somebody  to  pray  for  me." 

"  What  shall  I  pray  for  ?     You  don't  seem  to  want  anything." 

"  Why,  parson,  can't  a  man  pray  without  he's  in  trouble?  My 
mind  is  mighty  weak  and  scattered  like,  and  I  wanted  somebody  to 
come  and  help  me  thank  God.  You  can  pray  for  anything  else  you 
reckon  I  want,  but  thank  Him  first." 

We  knelt  on  the  ground  by  the  cot,  and  with  tears  and  difficult 
utterance  prayed  with  thanksgiving ;  the  prostrate  soldier  occasion 
ally  breaking  in — 

"  Yes,  Lord  ;  yes,  thank  God."  l 

Two  weeks  later,  Eev.  Mr.  Smith  made  use  of  this 
wonderful  instance  of  Divine  help  for  a  Christian  disci 
ple.  He  writes : 

I  had  been  preaching  in  the  fortifications  to  Capt.  Bridge's  Battery, 
taking  for  my  subject,  •'  Our  safety  in  God's  care,"  as  illustrated  by 
Peter's  deliverance  from  prison.     As  I  walked  out  of  camp,  a  bat 
tery  man  joined  me  for  a  talk  : 

of  Breastwork."  "  Tliat  was  a  funny  doctrine  you  preached  this 

morning,  Chaplain." 

"  It  is  a  blessed  doctrine,"  I  replied,  "  and  nobody  ought  to  know 
it  better  than  a  soldier." 

"  I  mean  to  say  that  it's  a  strange  doctrine,  and  I  don't  see  how  it 
can  be  true.  Don't  you  think  a  forty-pounder,  striking  a  fellow  fair, 
would  kill  him,  whether  he  was  religious  or  not  ?" 

"  Undoubtedly." 

"  Do  you  think  if  a  Christian  goes  out  on  a  skirmish  line,  a  Rebel 
sharpshooter  can't  hit  him  ?" 

"  No,"  said  I ;  "  I  think  the  Christian  would  be  rather  more  likely 
to  be  hit  than  a  man  who  was  not  a  Christian." 

"  Don't  the  Christians  take  sick  and  go  to  hospital ;  and  don't  the 
'  Chronic'2  carry  'em  off  just  like  anybody  else?" 

1  See  p.  27. 

2  Tliis  was  one  of  the  soldiers'  names  for  Chronic  Diarrhoea ;  not  unfrequently 
it  was  called    "  the  Chronicle." 


MURFREESBOEO'.  97 

"  Very  often." 

"  Just  so,"  he  replied ;  "  I  said  to  myself  while  you  were  going  on 
about  being  always  just  as  safe  as  Peter  was,  '  I'll  make  the  Chaplain 
take  part  of  that  back.'  " 

"  But,"  I  replied,  "  my  doctrine  is  that  a  minie  ball  would  not  hurt, 
not  that  it  would  not  hit." 

"  Well,  now,  Chaplain,  I've  had  a  little  experience  of  minie  balls, 
„  and  I  know  they  hurt." 

"  Are  you  a  Christian  ?" 

"  I  wish  I  was,  but  I  have  to  confess  I'm  not." 

"  Suppose  you  were  a  Christian,  ready  to  die ;  what  would  that 
forty-pounder  do  for  you  ?" 

"  It  would  take  me  straight  to  heaven." 

"  Would  that  hurt  you  ?" 

"Not  much." 

"  Neither  would  the  minie  balls  nor  the  fever.  Now,  have  you 
'  made  the  Chaplain  take  back'  his  sermon?" 

"  Well,  but,  Chaplain,  suppose  he  should  be  taken  sick,  and  go  to 
the  hospital,  and  not  die  after  all  ?" 

Then  I  told  him  of  my  East  Tennesseean,  who  was  "  all  right," 
and  only  wanted  help  to  "  thank  God :"  and  I  asked  whether  the 
fever  was  hurting  him.  Before  I  had  finished  my  story,  the  battery- 
man  was  in  tears.  Grasping  my  hand  at  his  good-bye,  he  said — 

"  You  are  right,  Chaplain ;  a  man  that  is  a  real  Christian  can't  be 
hurt ;  the  religion  in  his  soul  makes  the  very  best  kind  of  a  breast 
work." 

The  Christian  soldiers  in  the  army  found  it  necessary 
to  meet  together  in  voluntary  societies,  for  various  pur 
poses  of  mutual  edification  and  encouragement.  Rev. 
Mr.  Smith  recalls  his  meeting  with  one  of  these  organi 
zations  near  Murfreesboro' : 

On  a  Sunday  morning  in  May,  I  was  on  my  way  to  fill  an  appoint 
ment  for  service  with  a  regiment,  when  I  came  upon  a  group  of 
soldiers,  sitting  on  logs  in  a  hollow  square,  under  an  oak  tree.  I 

found  it  was  a  Bible-class  of  the  First  Michigan 

-T^,      .  •  .,!/>(  if  i  T  ,      i  The  Bible-Class. 

Engineers,  with  a  Corporal  lor  teacher.     I  took  my^ 

7 


98  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

place  as  a  scholar  and  went  through  with  the  morning's  lesson, — the 
first  chapter  of  St.  James.  There  were  no  Commentaries  in  the 
soldiers'  knapsacks  ;  some  of  them  had  reference  Bibles :  the  teach 
ings  of  the  hour  were  from  the  men's  hearts,  aided  by  such  knowledge 
as  they  had  stored  away  in  early  life.  The  question  of  sin,  its 
origin  and  its  use,  was  handled  in  a  true  soldier's  way,  and  settled  so 
as  to  be  of  practical  use  in  his  life,  if  not  altogether  according  to 
theological  terminologies  and  schools. 

After  the  Bible-class  came  a  meeting  of  the  Christian  Association 
of  the  regiment.     Wanting  a  Chaplain,  they  had  formed  themselves 
into  a  society.     The  Articles  of  Faith  to  which  a  candidate  for  ad 
mission  must  assent  were  brief  and  comprehensive, 

TheChurchin  includi  thege  three  points  .  i.  Salvation  through 
the  Woods.  . 

an  Atoning  Saviour ;    2.  Belief  that  this  salvation 

had  been  personally  experienced ;  and,  3.  Proof  of  that  experience, 
on  the  testimony  of  the  regiment. 

There  were  several  candidates  to  be  admitted  this  morning.  Each 
stood  up  and  gave  his  religious  history.  Then  followed  the  proof 
from  the  regiment.  The  candidates  were  passed  upon  one  by  one. 
The  opinions  of  comrades  as  to  their  fitness  or  unfitness  were  most 
freely  and  faithfully  given.  Few  men  enter  a  church  at  home  under 
such  genuine  tests. 

Sergeant  J.  desired  to  unite  with  the  Association,  as  he  said,  not 
for  its  good,  but  for  his  own  sake : 

"  I  am  not  worthy,  brothers  ;  you  know  that  very  well.  You  know 
my  life  has  not  been  what  it  ought  to  have  been  as  a  Christian  man. 
But  if  you  can  take  me  and  help  me,  I  want  to  come.  I  mean  to  be 

true;  if  God  and  my  comrades  will  help  me,  I  shall 

Not  Willing  to       ^  ^^     ^  .f  tMnk   it  win  be  dangerous  to 

go  Alone.  .  , 

receive  me,  perhaps  you  had  better  let  me  wait  and 

try  to  go  alone ;  although  I  have  not  much  hope,  unless  I  have  your 
assistance." 

Kemarks  were  called  for  and  most  freely  given.  Sergeant  J.'s 
life  will  not  probably  pass  such  a  severe  ordeal  again  until  the  final 
review.  Every  word  was  kind  as  it  was  true,  and  every  comrade 
closed  with  the  wish  that  the  Sergeant  might  be  tried.  He  came  in 
by  a  unanimous  vote. 

Corporal  S.  gave  a  good  religious  experience.     His  account  made 


MURFREESBORO'.  99 

his  conversion  clear,  decided  and  rather  remarkable.  His  Christian 
hopes  were  delightful.  He  spoke  with  deep  emotion  and  moved  me 
to  tears.  I  supposed  there  would  be  no  discussion 

in  his  case.     But  the  third-article — proof  before  the 

of  Repentance. 

regiment,  was  called  for,  and  there  were  found  to  be 
decided  objections  to  his  admission.  To  the  grief  of  many  of  his 
Christian  comrades,  he  had  persisted  in  a  "gift  enterprise,"  receiving 
chances  from  a  firm  in  New  York,  and  selling  them  in  the  regiment. 
He  insisted  that  it  was  not  unchristian  so  to  do — that  he  gave  nearly, 
if  not  quite,  the  value  of  the  money  received,  in  addition  to  the 
chance  of  a  large  gain.  His  comrades,  one  after  another,  declared 
that  they  could  not  see  it  in  that  light,  and  called  on  Brother  S.  to 
renounce  his  practice.  This  he  did.  He  was  willing  to  quit  it  from 
that  time  forward,  especially  as  it  had  been  forbidden  in  the  army  by 
Gen.  Rosecrans. 

Now  arose  the  question,  Shall  the  Corporal  come  in  ?  One  after 
another  declared  that  he  ought  not  only  to  forsake  sin,  but  to  repent 
of  it: 

"Say  you  are  sorry  for  it,  Corporal,  and  we  will  receive  you." 

But  the  Corporal  had  taken  a  position,  and  could  not  see  the  way 
to  retreat ;  nor  could  the  brotherhood  see  the  way  open  for  his  mem 
bership.  Accordingly  a  committee  was  appointed  to  labor  with  him, 
and  so  wise  and  faithful  was  their  work,  that  at  the  next  meeting  the 
Corporal  came,  through  repentance  and  confession,  into  cordial  fellow 
ship  with  the  Association. 

Two  soldiers  were  received  who  had  never  united  with  the  church 
at  home.     They  desired  baptism  by  immersion.     At  the  close  of  the 
afternoon  service,  we  marched  to  the  banks  of  Stone  River,  where 
we  went  down  into  the  water.     The  comrades  of  the 
men  stood  near  the  side  of  the  stream,  singing —  ,™    -r,    .. 

"  Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  cross  ?" 

It  was  a  strange  and  beautiful  scene.  Those  scarred  veterans  on 
the  bank,  cheering  their  two  comrades  who  were  dedicating  them 
selves  to  God,  in  the  very  stream  which,  a  few  months  before,  had 
run  red  with  the  blood  of  their  fellow-soldiers  and  enemies.  Just 
above  this  point,  in  January,  the  Confederates  had  made  their 
irost  furious  charge,  and  were  repulsed  by  Crittenden. 


100  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS 

Rev.  A.  B.  Dascomb1  came  to  the  army  as  Delegate 
early  in  May.  Mr.  D.  L.  Moody,  of  Chicago,  who 
arrived  about  the  same  time,  was  successful  in  establish 
ing  a  daily  prayer  meeting  in  the  basement  of  the 
Second  Presbyterian  Church  of  Nashville,  on  May 
10th — a  meeting  of  remarkable  character,  which  was 
continued  until  the  work  closed  in  the  Summer  of  1865. 
Mr.  Dascomb  gives  an  account  of  one  of  the  first  fruits 
of  this  meeting : 

I  shall  never  forget  one  soldier  whom  I  met  in  Nashville.  His 

name  was  J.  Z .  I  learned  his  story  from  his  own  lips  after  his 

conversion.  His  father  was  a  Presbyterian  elder;  but  the  son,  from 
his  early  youth,  had  been  disobedient  and  wicked. 
j  "  A  little  brother,  who  used  to  sleep  with  him,  was  in 
the  habit,  every  night,  of  kneeling  by  the  bedside  to 
say  his  simple  child's  prayers.  This  so  enraged  Z that  some 
times  he  had  been  tempted  to  kill  him.  Once  only  he  seems  to  have 
been  convinced  of  his  wickedness  ;  this  was  when  his  sister  died.  She 
had  called  her  wayward  brother  to  her  side,  and  tearfully  prayed  him 
to  meet  her  in  heaven.  He  gave  the  promise,  but  after  her  death, 
to  escape  the  memory  of  her  request  and  his  parents'  entreaties,  he 
ran  away.  He  was  a  boatman  on  the  Ohio  for  some  time  after  that, 
and  plunged  into  every  species  of  vice  practised  by  the  most  aban 
doned  of  these  men. 

When  the  war  broke  out  he  enlisted  in  an  Ohio  regiment,  and 
served  at  Shiloh,  Perryville  and  Stone  River.  At  the  last  battle  he 
was  wounded ;  and,  unfitted  for  longer  active  service,  was  sent  to  the 
Barracks,  opposite  the  Nashville  Christian  Commission  rooms,  to  act 
as  cook.  Here  he  was  drawn  into  the  daily  prayer  meeting.  The 
words  which  he  heard  brought  back  into  vivid  relief  the  thoughts  he 
had  had  on  the  battle-field  after  he  was  wounded,  his  sister's  and  his 
parents'  lessons  and  love,  his  child-brother's  little  prayers.  He  had 
neglected  so  many  early  advantages  that  he  was  very  ignorant ;  but 


1  Pa-stor  of  Congregational  Church,  Woodstock,  Vt. 


NASHVILLE    HOSPITALS.  101 

he  knew  that  there  was  a  Deliverer ;  he  cried  mightily  for  His  pres 
ence.  The  Lord  heard  the  poor  man's  prayer,  and  in  that  strength 
the  soldier  renewed  the  vow  made  when  his  sister  died.  The  change 
in  his  life  was  immediate  and  manifest.  He  attended  the  prayer 
meetings  regularly,  and  became  a  kind  of  volunteer  Delegate  among 
his  fellow-soldiers,  carrying  to  them  books  and  tracts,  and  praying 
with  the  sick  and  dying. 

"I  have  served  Satan  diligently,"  he  would  say;  "that's  all  past 
now,  and  can't  be  helped,  God  knows ;  but  I  want  to  serve  Christ  as 
diligently." 

This  was  his  life-purpose  now.  He  was  a  lion  that  had  become 
as  a  lamb.  I  confess  I  never  before  witnessed  what  was  apparently 
so  great  a  triumph  of  grace. 

Mr.  Dascomb  gives  in  another  incident  a  strange  and 
vivid  picture  of  the  power  of  that  Word  that  shall  not 
return  unto  God  void  : 


It  was  my  custom  daily  while  at  Nashville  to  visit  Hospital  No. 
20.     During  one  of  my  calls  there,  I  came  upon  a  soldier  evidently 
near  death.     I  spoke  to  him  earnestly  and  repeatedly,  but  received 
no  satisfactory  response.     I  was  puzzled,  for  it  was 
impossible  to  determine  whether  he  was  physically         p 
insensible,  or  indifferent  to  what  I  was  saying.     I 
urged  him  to  pray ;  still  no  answer  came.     Bending  down  to  him,  I 
repeated  my  request,  giving  him  these  words  of  petition : 

"  God,  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner ;  Saviour,  pity ;  Jesus,  save 
me." 

There  was  no  reply,  and  sorrowfully  I  turned  to  the  next  cot,  ten 
anted  by  a  bright  and  glowing  Christian,  in  whose  words  of  faith  and 
hope  the  speechless  sufferer  near  me  was  forgotten.  A  low  murmur 
of  words  from  his  cot  recalled  him  to  my  mind.  In  a  clear,  but 
very  faint,  struggling  voice,  the  words  I  had  said  to  him  were 
repeated : 

"  God,  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner ;  Saviour,  pity ;  Jesus,  save  me." 

A.  flickering  glow  glanced  for  a  moment  into  the  stony  eyes,  and 
wavered  over  the  wan  cheeks  and  lips,  then  went  away  for  ever. 


102  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Mr.  Thomas  Atkinson1  tells  the  story  of  his  first  ex 
perience  as  a  Delegate  in  the  Nashville  hospitals : 

The  morning  after  Mr.  Moody  and  I  reached  Nashville,  we  stood 

upon  the  hotel  steps  debating  whither  we  should  go.    Thinking  there 

was  no  time  to  be  lost,  we  separated  and  went  in  different  directions, 

— he  going  to  Hospital  No.  3,  and  I  to  No.  8.     It 

was  my  first  venture  into  army  work.  I  scarcely 
Nothing  at  All.  J 

knew  what  to  say  or  do.  Entering  the  first  floor  of 
the  large  ward,  I  stood  irresolute.  Surgeons  and  nurses  were  moving 
hither  and  thither.  A  half  doubt  came  to  me  whether  I  could  do 
this  work  which  the  Lord  had  put  upon  me.  Suddenly  I  noticed  a 
man  observing  me  attentively  from  a  distant  cot ;  I  turned  my  eyes 
away  from  his,  and  letting  them  wander  about  the  room  a  while, 
looked  at  him  again.  He  was  watching  me  still.  Putting  up  a  silent 
prayer  to  God,  I  went  to  him.  His  name  was  John  Hays.  He  had 
a  wife  and  five  children  : 

"  You  seem  to  be  very  low,  John." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am." 

"  Are  you  a  Christian  ?" 

"No,  sir,  I'm  not,  but  my  wife  is.  And  I  was  just  asking  the  Lord 
this  morning,  to  send  me  some  one  to  tell  me  how  I  could  get  to  be 
like  her.  When  I  saw  you  standing  over  there,  I  thought,  '  'Maybe 
the  Lord  has  heard  me.  'Maybe  this  is  the  man  He  has  sent  to 
help  me.' " 

The  soldier's  earnestness,  my  former  indecision,  the  blessed  opening 
evident,  made  me  strong  in  faith  : 

"  Yes,  John,  I  am  the  Lord's  messenger ;  and,  moreover,  I  have 
come  to  tell  you  that  you  are  to  become  a  child  of  Christ." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  sir?     Then  thank  God  for  it!" 

I  told  him  of  the  only  way  by  which  he  could  come  to  the  cross. 
He  waited  as  if  I  were  going  to  say  more,  but  I  only  asked  him  if  he 
would  accept  the  offered  Atonement. 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  he, ;'  I  didn't  think  that  was  the  way.     I  thought 


1  Of  Chicago.     Member  afterwards  of  the  Wittenberg  Synod  (Ohio)  of  the 
Lutheran  Church. 


NASHVILLE    HOSPITALS.  103 

I  had  to  be  sorry  a  long  time,  and — and — ,"  and  here  he  stopped  be 
cause  he  hardly  knew  what  more  to  say. 
"  Listen,"  said  I — 

"  '  Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 

But  that  Thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  Thou  bid'st  me  come  to  Thee, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come,  I  come.'  " 

"And  will  He  save  me  that  way  for  just  nothing  at  all?" 

"Yes  — 

"  '  Nothing  in  my  hands  I  bring, 
Simply  to  Thy  cross  I  cling ; 
Naked,  come  to  Thee  for  dress ; 
Helpless,  cling  to  Thee  for  grace ; 
Vile,  I  to  the  fountain  fly ; 
Wash  me,  Saviour,  or  I  die.'  " 

"  I  never  knew  it  before,  sir.  I  never  knew  it  was  so  easy.  Thank 
God !  Thank  God  !" 

There  was  a  nurse  standing  near  by.  The  soldier  turned  to  him 
and  said — 

"  Nurse,  when  this  gentleman  goes  away,  I  want  you  to  write  to 
my  wife  and  tell  her  that  I  have  found  out  how  to  trust  Jesus.  Thank 
God !  Thank  God !" 

He  never  faltered  for  a  moment,  during  the  five  days  which  in 
tervened  before  his  death,  in  his  simple,  childlike  attachment  to 
Christ. 

At  last  the  morning  came  when  his  cot  was  empty.  I  asked  the 
nurse  about  him.  Arrangements  had  been  made  by  the  dying  man 
for  the  prompt  transmission  of  his  remains  to  his  home.  They  were 

already  upon  the  road.     Then  I  discovered  that  the 

,  , .     ,  Sorrow  Turned 

nurse  had  neglected  the  soldiers  request  to  send  a      jntoj0 

letter.  The  first  intimation  to  the  wife,  of  her 
husband's  decease,  would  be  the  arrival  of  the  mournful  case  which 
contained  his  body.  It  was  a  sad  mistake,  but  could  not  be  reme 
died.  I  wrote  her  a  letter,  giving  full  particulars  of  her  husband's  tri 
umphant  departure.  The  answer  was  one  of  very  precious  interest  : 
"  O  sir,  I  didn't  think  there  were  any  earthly  words  which  could 
comfort  me  as  did  those  in  your  letter.  I  am  afraid  I  sinned  against 


104  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

God  yesterday,  as  I  stood  by  my  husband's  grave.  I  know  I  had 
hard,  rebellious  thoughts.  No  one  knew  about  them  but  myself  and 
God.  As  the  minister  said,  '  Earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to 
dust,'  I  almost  thought  I  could  stand  it  no  longer.  It  was  hard  to 
be  separated  from  him  thus,  and  to  know  so  little — nothing  about 
how  he  died.  When  I  got  back  to  the  house,  your  letter  was  lying 
on  the  table.  In  it  I  learned  that  John  had  found  Jesus,  and  I  cried 
for  joy. 

"  '  Children,'  I  said,  '  dry  up  your  tears.  Your  father  is  not  dead. 
He  is  alive  in  Heaven.  Thank  God!' 

"  At  the  grave,  the  war  had  seemed  to  me  very  cruel  and  wicked. 
It  is  all  changed  now.  I  shall  meet  John  again ;  that  is  enough. 
Thank  God  who  saved  my  husband." 

In  November,  1862,  Gen.  Grant,  having  completed 
his  preparations,  advanced  into  Mississippi.  In  the  close 
of  December,  Gen.  Sherman,  with  30,000  men  trans 
ported  down  the  Mississippi  and  up  the  Yazoo  in  boats, 
made  an  assault  upon  Vicksburg,  continued  for  several 
days,  but  entirely  unsuccessful.  Arkansas  Post  on  the 
White  River  was  reduced  in  January,  and  in  the  same 
month  work  was  begun  on  a  canal  which  was  intended 
to  render  Vicksburg  useless.  March  rains  paralyzed  this 
effort  to  flank  the  Mississippi.  Various  plans  were  de 
vised  to  render  the  reduction  of  the  Eebel  stronghold 
easier.  All  were  more  or  less  failures.  Grand  Gulf, 
below  Vicksburg,  was  reduced  early  in  May,  after 
Sherman's  victory  of  Port  Gibson.  Our  army  now 
slowly  approached  Vicksburg  from  the  south-east,  and 
on  May  18th  crossed  the  Big  Black,  after  the  victories 
of  Raymond,  Jackson  and  Champion  Hills.  The  grand 
assault  on  the  city,  May  22d,  taught  Grant  that  it  could 
not  be  stormed.  So  he  sat  down  to  dig  his  way  into  it. 
On  July  4th  the  city  surrendered. 


HELENA.  105 

General  Fisk's1  command,  after  one  of  the  fruitless 
expeditions  "  to  climb  up  some  other  way"  into  Vicks- 
burg,  was  stationed  at  Helena,  Arkansas.  The  General 
relates  an  incident  which  occurred  here  about  February 
1st  1863.2 

We  had  been  removed  for  a  month  from  our  lines  of  communica 
tion  and  had  received  no  letters  from  home.     Of  course,  when  the 
way  was  re-opened,  our  first  thought  was  of  the  mail.     I  went  to  the 
post-office  tent  and  received  my  precious  budget  from 
home — from  wife  and    children,  pastor  and  Sunday-      ,. 
school  children — for  I  had  been  reduced  from  the  rank 
of  Superintendent  of  the  Sunday- school  to  become  a  General  in  the 
army.     I  sat  down  on  a  log  by  my  tent  to  peruse  the  messages  of 
love.     I  had  read  them  through  and  through,  and  was  about  to  rise, 
when  an  old  soldier,  seated  near  me  on  the  same  log,  accosted  me 
with — 

"  Old  fellow,  I  want  you  to  read  my  letter  for  me." 

I  had  nothing  on  to  indicate  my  rank.  I  turned  and  looked  at 
the  man,  and  then  reached  for  the  letter.  It  was  directed  to  "  John 
Shearer,  Helena,  Arkansas."  The  address  began  at  the  top  of  the 
envelope  and  ran  diagonally  across  to  the  lower  corner. 

"  Can't  you  read  it  yourself,  John  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Then  I  will,  of  course ;  but  why  don't  you  know  how  to  read  ? 
The  fellows  that  don't  know  how  to  read  ought  by  rights  to  be  found 
only  on  Jeff  Davis'  side." 

I  learned  that  he  had  been  born  in  a  slave  State,  though  he  was  an 
Iowa  soldier,  and  that  might  have  helped  to  excuse  him.  The  letter 
was  from  John's  wife.  After  speaking  of  the  gathering  in  of  the 
crops,  and  entering  into  all  the  little  affairs  of  home — mentioning 
even  Susy's  new  dress,  the  new  boots  for  Johnny,  and  the  cunningest 
wee  bits  of  socks  for  the  baby — the  faithful  wife  began  to  read  John 
a  sermon  on  this  wise: 


1  See  p.  88. 

2  Told  at  Anniversary  of  the  Commission,  Philadelphia,  Jan.  31st,  1865. 


106  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  John,  it  was  quarterly  meeting  last  Saturday,  and  the  Presiding 
Elder  stopped  at  our  house.  He  told  me  that  a  great  many  men 
who  went  into  the  army  Christians,  came  back  very  wicked ;  that 
they  learned  to  swear  and  gamble  and  drink.  Now,  John,  I  want 
you  to  remember  the  promise  you  made,  as  you  were  leaving  me  and 
the  children,  that  you  would  be  a  good  man." 

Ah  !  the  soldier  wept  as  he  listened,  and  when  we  came  to  the  dear 
name  that  closed  the  precious  letter,  he  raised  the  sleeve  of  his  old 
coat,  brushed  away  the  great  swelling  tears,  and  said  with  a  full 
heart,  "  Bully  for  her  !" 

It  was  the  soldier's  Amen,  eloquent  and  expressive. 

"  Well,  have  you  been  '  a  good  man,'  John  ?" 

Then  came  the  sad,  sad  story  of  drunkenness  and  gambling  and 
profanity,  into  which  John  had  been  led,  and  the  humble  confession 
that  he  had  forgotten  his  vow,  but  would  renew  it,  and,  with  God's 
help,  try  to  keep  it. 

I  then  discovered  my  rank  to  him,  which  disconcerted  him  at  first, 
but  he  soon  got  over  it.  I  invited  him  to  my  tent,  and  he  came  to 
all  our  meetings  afterwards. 

Weeks  passed  by,  and  the  horrors  of  the  grave-digging  on  the 
Mississippi,  where  thousands  of  brave  men  were  laid  low  in  the 
swamps,  passed  over  us,  sweeping  away  six  hundred  of  my  own 
men.  Low  with  the  fever,  one  day,  I  found  John  Shearer.  I  re 
ceived  his  words  of  faith  in  the  home  beyond,  his  last  messages 
to  wife  and  children,  and  then  sang  by  his  side  the  sweet  hymn, 
beginning — 

"  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 

Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are." 

The  soldier's  eyes  were  soon  closed  in  death. 

Gen.  Fisk  kept  up  constant  communication  with  the 
Western  Army  Committees  and  with  the  Central  Com 
mission,  doing  all  in  his  power  to  promote  the  value  of 
Delegate  work  in  the  army. 

The  St.  Louis  Committee  sent  to  Memphis,  as  their 


MEMPHIS.  107 

first  agent,  Mr.  K.'  A.  Burnell,1  who,  early  in  the  Spring 
of  1863,  opened  a  reading-room  in  Memphis.  He  writes: 

Four  weeks  of  February  and  March  I  spent  with  the  army  before 
Vicksburg.  Coming  back  to  Memphis,  I  had  an  interesting  conver 
sation  with  an  aged  soldier.  He  said — 

"  I   entered  the  army  as  a  Christian,  fully  expecting  to  stand  up 
for   Jesus.     I   tried  hard ;  but  with  no  regular  Sunday  service,  no 
prayer  meeting,  no  closet  even  for  my  own  prayers,  I  think  I  fell 
back  instead  of  advancing.     When  I  found  that  out 
for  certain — it  was  just  before  the  fight  of  Arkansas       -n  t 
Post — I  went  to  Christ  and  told  Him   all  about  it ; 
and  He  came  back  to  me,  brother,  and  was  with   me  in  the  midst  of 
that  fight.     I  can  never  forget  it."    The  old  soldier  mused  a  while  and 
then  went   on :  "  It  was    peace — peace   in  the  midst  of  the  battle. 
Indeed  it  passed  all  understanding." 

His  countenance  glowed  as  he  proceeded  : 

"It  seemed  as  if  I  wanted  to  go  home  in  the  midst  of  the  fight.  I 
think  I  prayed  that  I  might.  I  felt  strong  and  courageous  ;  loading 
and  firing  with  the  calmness  of  a  man  alone  in  a  dense  forest.  Since 
that  fight  I've  had  no  doubts ;  and  I  feel,  more  and  more  every  day, 
that  we  boys,  to  know  how  to  fight  best,  must  know  how  to  love  the 
Lord  Jesus  with  all  our  hearts." 

In  one  of  the  Memphis  prayer  meetings,  a  man  rose  and  said — 

"  Two  weeks  ago  I  was  one  of  the  wickedest  men  in  the  army ; 
nothing  was  too  bad  for  me  to  do  or  say ;  but  now,  by  the  grace  of 

God,  I  can  say  I  am  'a  sinner  saved.'     This  morn- 

J  The  Countersign. 

ing,    on    guard,   I    forgot    my   watchword.     I   was 

troubled  ;  but,  as  I  was  thinking  of  it,  this  thought  came  to  me :  '  I 
have  another  countersign, — Christ, — and  with  that  there  is  no  guarded 
line  in  earth  or  heaven  which  I  cannot  pass.'  When  I  had  thought 
of  that  a  little  while,  my  other  countersign  came  to  mind,  and  all 
was  right." 

The  soldiers,  as  in  the  instance  last  described,  often 
took  the  nearest  and  aptest  illustrations  of  their  spiritual 


1  See  p.  74. 


108  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

condition  from  the  commonest  incidents  of  their  daily 
military  life.  Mr.  Wm.  Reynolds,1  who  visited  the  Army 
of  the  Mississippi  in  April  and  May,  held  a  prayer 
meeting  one  evening  at  Milliken's  Bend,  and  writes  of  it: 

At  the  close  of  the  meeting,  many  asked  me  to  pray  for  them,  say 
ing  they  wished  to  be  Christians  for  the  rest  of  their  lives.     As  I  left 
them,  promising  to  be  down  on   Sunday,  I  noticed  a  man  following 
me.     Stopping  me,  he  began — 

cc  T  j          T\  •  I  J.         O  *  O 

1  want  a  JDis-  ,T      ,  .       ,  ...  ,, 

charge»  My  friend,  I  want  a  discharge." 

Supposing  he  meant  a  discharge  from  the  army,  I 
said  I  was  afraid  that  would  be  hard  to  obtain,  as  he  appeared  to  be 
recovering. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  that's  not  what  I  mean ;  I  want  a  discharge  from 
the  devil's  army.  I've  been  fighting  and  serving  in  his  ranks  for 
twenty-five  years,  and  I'm  tired  and  sick  of  the  service.  I  want  to 
leave  his  ranks  and  enlist  under  the  banner  of  the  cross,  and  fight 
for  Jesus  the  balance  of  my  life." 

I  told  him  he  could  have  that  discharge  by  deserting  the  devil's 
ranks,  and  coming  over  to  the  Lord  Jesus.  I  talked  and  prayed 
with  him,  leaving  with  him  some  suitable  reading.  On  Sunday,  at 
the  close  of  the  evening  meeting,  he  told  me  he  had  come  over  and 
was  a  "  Soldier  of  the  Cross." 

Mr.  Reynolds  visited  Helena,  where  Gen.  Fisk's  com 
mand  was,  in  April.  He  gives  several  reminiscences  of 
his  work  there : 

I  visited  an  Iowa  regiment,  and  was  told  that  no  religious  service 
had  been  held  in  it  for  over  nine  months.  Gathering  the  men  to 
gether,  I  told  them  of  salvation  through  Christ.  At  the  close  of  the 

meeting,   all   Christians   were   requested  to   remain. 
1  'It  would  Break       ,  , . 
m   Heart"  Nine  tarried.     I  asked  them  if  they  were  willing  to 

live,  in  the  future  as  in  the  past,  without  any  relig- 


1  President  of  the  Army  Committee,  and  later  of  the  Christian  Commission 
Branch  of  Peoria,  111. 


IN   ARKANSAS.  109 

ious  services  whatever,  reminding  them  of  the  command,  "  Forsake 
not  the  assembling  of  yourselves  together."  Deep  feeling  was  mani 
fested  by  the  little  company,  with  real  penitence  for  past  neglect  of 
duty.  At  the  close  of  my  remarks  they  all  resolved  that,  with  God's 
help,  they  would  be  more  fully  consecrated  to  their  Saviour,  whom 
for  so  many  months  they  had  "followed  afar  off." 

In  the  evening  a  prayer  meeting  was  held  in  a  deserted  plantation 
house  near  by.  At  the  hour  the  expected  nine  appeared,  and  with 
them  two  or  three  hundred  fellow-soldiers.  As  the  meeting  pro 
gressed,  many,  unused  to  weeping,  were  bathed  in  tears ;  sobs  and 
crying  were  heard  in  every  part  of  the  large  congregation.  A  fine- 
looking  officer  rose  and  said — 

"  Soldiers,  you  are  no  doubt  surprised  at  seeing  me  here  this  even 
ing,  and  you  will  be  more  surprised  when  I  tell  you  that  I  was  once 
a  Christian,  and  have  now  a  Christian  wife  and  three  children  in 
Iowa.  Before  leaving  home,  my  wife  made  me  promise  to  maintain 
my  Christian  character  in  the  army  unsullied.  But  I  soon  forgot 
that  promise.  On  entering  this  regiment,  I  had  not  moral  courage 
enough  to  tell  any  one  I  was  a  Christian.  Ashamed  to  pray,  I  soon 
found  Christ  was  ashamed  of  me.  I  fell  fast  into  profanity,  intem 
perance  and  gambling.  As  most  of  you  know,  I  am  now  addicted  to 
all  these  vices.  Do  you  think  I  am  happy?  Oh,  no  ;  I  have  been 
miserable.  That  faithful  wife  writes  me  each  week  a  long  letter, 
and  at  the  close  often  says — 

" '  O  George,  if  we  are  never  permitted  to  meet  on  earth  again, 
how  it  comforts  me  to  know  we  shall  meet  on  the  other  side  of  Jor 
dan,  where  there  are  no  wars  and  no  partings.' 

"  O  soldiers,  how  these  letters  burn  my  heart !  How  that  wife  is 
deceived!  Many  a  night  I  have  lain  awake,  thinking  over  my  fallen 
condition,  and  then  have  drowned  my  thoughts  in  the  morning  with 
liquor.  The  day  before  yesterday,  I  received  another  letter  from  her, 
in  which  she  said — 

" '  George,  in  looking  over  your  letters  I  am  surprised  you  say 
nothing  about  your  religious  condition.  O  George,  can  it  be  possible 
you  have  turned  your  back  upon  your  Saviour,  and  that  you  are  no 
longer  living  as  a  Christian  ?  If  I  thought  for  a  moment  you  would 
fall  in  this  war,  and  I  should  never  see  you  again  in  this  world,  and 
that  we  would  never  meet  in  the  next,  it  would  break  my  heart.' " 


110  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  strong  man  was  broken  down.  After  becoming  more  calm,  he 
proceeded  again  : 

"  Now,  soldiers,  as  for  me,  like  the  Prodigal  Son,  I  am  determined 
to  return  to  my  Father.  From  this  time  I  am  determined  to  stand 
up  for  Christ  as  valiantly  as  for  my  country." 

His  after  life  proved  the  strength  and  sincerity  of  his  purpose. 

A  dying  man  was  brought  into  the  Hindman  Hospital  at  Helena 
by  two  soldiers.  As  soon  as  he  was  set  down,  he  reached  out  his  hand 
to  the  matron  and  asked  her  to  shake  hands  with  him  : 

"  I  am  goino;  home  to  my  mansion  on  his:h.     I 
"Till  Pa  comes  u  j          i  i     i         T  i  a      •         » 

l°ve  everybody,  —  but,  oh,  how  1  love  my  Saviour. 


He  died  in  a  few  minutes,  with  a  smile  of  peace 
upon  his  countenance. 

On  examining  his  knapsack,  we  found  a  very  touching  letter  from 
his  wife.  It  told  how  she  had  just  received  a  letter  from  him  enclos 
ing  a  little  book  for  George,  their  young  son  ;  how  little  George  had 
put  the  book  into  the  cupboard,  and  had  said  — 

"  It  must  stay  here  till  pa  comes  home." 

I  took  and  cut  a  lock  of  his  hair,  gathered  up  some  trinkets  from 
his  knapsack  and  sent  them  to  his  wife  in  Iowa,  with  the  dying  words 
of  her  husband.  After  my  return  home  I  received  a  letter  from  her 
in  which  she  told  me  that  she  could  not  express  her  gratitude  for  the 
little  things  I  had  sent,  —  for  the  lock  of  hair,  and  above  all  for  the 
precious  dying  words.  Her  husband  had  been  converted  in  the 
army,  and  the  assurance  she  had  of  meeting  him  in  the  world  beyond 
was  of  inexpressible  comfort  in  her  bereavement. 

We  went  down  from  Helena  to  Milliken's  Bend,  on  a  boat  crowded 

to  its   utmost  capacity  with   soldiers  and   a  wicked   set  of  officers, 

returning  to  the  army.     They  spent  their  time  in  drinking  and  gam 

bling.    Mr.  Burnell  and  I,  as  we  found,  were  the  only 

Christians  on  the  boat.     We  felt  as  if  somehow  we 
War  into  Africa, 

must  plant  the  cross  right  in  the  midst  of  the  scene. 
Immediately  after  supper,  the  tables  were  cleared  away  and  nearly 
all  began  playing  cards.  We  went  into  our  state-room  and  knelt 
down  to  ask  God's  help,  for  it  seemed  to  me  at  least  that  anything 
we  could  do  was  useless.  Coming  out,  we  stationed  ourselves  in  the 
centre  of  the  room  ;  all  around  us  were  men  intent  upon  their  games, 
cursing  bitterly  at  losses,  laughing  loudly  over  success,  and  relating 


ON    THE    MISSISSIPPI.  Ill 

abominable  stories.     It  seemed  the  very  mouth  of  hell.     I  began  by 
singing  the  hymn — 

"All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name." 

If  a  thunderbolt  had  fallen  into  their  midst,  the  astonishment 
could  not  have  been  greater.  For  a  moment  every  man  stopped  and 
looked  at  us  in  perfect  amazement.  After  singing  two  verses  alone, 
Mr.  Burnell  stated  that  we  were  Delegates  of  the  Christian  Commis 
sion  on  our  way  to  the  army  at  Milliken's  Bend  for  the  purpose  of 
preaching  Christ  and  ministering  to  soldiers  in  distress.  He  then 
addressed  a  few  earnest  words  to  the  officers,  reminding  them  of  the 
influence  of  their  example  on  their  commands, — how  demoralizing  it 
sometimes  was,  and  beseeching  them  to  care  more  for  their  men's 
eternal  welfare.  He  reminded  them  how  many  sons,  given  to  the 
army  by  devoted  Christian  mothers,  had  been  ruined  through  the 
example  of  wicked  officers.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  to  make  an 
impression,  but  all  were  soon  again  engaged  in  their  gambling  games. 
The  tide  seemed  to  have  rolled  back  and  covered  up  what  we  had 
'said  for  ever. 

The  service  had  been  so  short,  that  we  had  little  time  to  notice  the 
effects,  such  as  they  were.  At  a  table  just  by  where  we  stood,  one 
man  attempted  thrice  during  Mr.  Burnell's  talk  to  resume  the  game, 
but  he  failed.  His  muttered  curses  and  jeers  did  not  prevail  till  we 
had  finished.  One  of  the  men  at  this  table  looked  at  us  when  we 
began,  then  dropped  his  eyes  and  sat  with  bowed  head  even  after  we 
had  concluded ;  another  rose  and  left  the  room. 

In  the  morning,  a  gentleman  came  up  to  Mr.  Burnell,  and  said — 

"  You  ought  to  be  a  General,  sir." 

"  I  know  nothing  of  military  affairs,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  he,  "  but  you  have  moral  courage.  Any  man  who 
could  stand  up  amidst  such  iniquity  and  preach  Christ,  as  you  did 
lust  night,  is  a  hero.  I  was  a  professor  of  religion  before  I  came 
into  the  army,  but  through  bad  associates  and  a  want  of  moral  cour 
age  to  meet  my  fellow-officers  as  a  Christian,  I  soon  fell  into  profan 
ity,  gambling  and  drunkenness." 

He  seemed  deeply  affected  and  promised,  God  helping  him,  he 
would  show  his  colors  thenceforth  and  stand  up  for  Jesus. 

While  at  Milliken's  Bend,  I  was  holding  a  meeting  in  an  Indiana 


112  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

regiment.  At  the  close  a  man  came  forward  and  asked  me  if  I  had 
been  on  a  certain  boat  two  days  before.  I  told  him,  yes.  He  asked 
me  if  I  was  one  of  two  who  had  sung  and  preached  one  evening.  I 
told  him  I  had  helped  in  such  a  service. 

"  Our  First  Lieutenant,"  said  he,  "  has  been  a  very  wicked  man, 
but  he  has  just  returned  from  a  furlough  home  and  seems  to  be 
entirely  different.  He  says  that  while  he  and  others  were  playing 
cards  a  few  nights  ago  on  board  the  boat,  two  men  came  out  of  their 
state-room,  sung  a  hymn  and  said  some  earnest  words  about  the  in 
fluence  officers  had  over  the  morals  of  their  men,  and  about  Jesus. 
He  tried  to  play  after  they  had  gone,  but  it  w7as  no  use.  Pie  lay 
awake  all  night.  It  revived  the  memories  of  childhood,  bringing 
back  a  mother's  admonitions  and  prayers.  He  there  resolved,  God 
being  his  helper,  never  to  play  again,  and  that  his  influence  in  the 
future  should  be  different  from  what  it  had  been  in  the  past.  And 
indeed,  sir,  so  it  has  been  since  he  came  back." 

So  God  taught  me  how  much  might  be  done  even  in  the  midst  of 
sin  ;  and  how  a  little  faith  is  the  conqueror  of  the  adversary.1 

Just  after  arriving  at  Milliken's  Bend,  we  held  a  meeting  in  an 
Iowa  regiment.  At  the  close,  a  man  came  up  to  me  and  said — 

"  Stranger,  would  you  like  to  come  to  a  little  prayer  meeting,  out 

here  in  the  woods  ?" 
The    Hidden  .  . 

Prayer  Meeting.  Certainly,"  said  I. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  at  night.    We  went  half 


1  Rev.  R.  Brown,  Pastor  of  First  Congregational  Church  of  Oswego,  111.,  a  Del 
egate  in  the  Mississippi  field,  July,  1864,  relates  a  similar  incident  which  occurred 
as  he  was  returning  home.  He  was  on  board  the  steamer  T.  S.  Arthur,  with 
Gen.  McArthur  and  staff  and  the  First  Kansas  Regiment.  The  boat  had  been 
fired  into  from  the  shore,  where  Marmadnke  had  extemporized  batteries  to  impede 
the  navigation  of  the  stream.  Danger  past,  the  cabin  was  given  up  to  gambling. 
With  much  fear  and  trembling,  Rev.  Mr.  Brown  proposed  to  organize  a  meeting 
right  in  the  midst  of  the  players.  The  General  consented  to  preside,  and  a 
precious  service  followed.  Many  Christians  on  board  made  themselves  known  to 
Mr.  Brown,  and  others  with  earnestness  promised  to  change  their  course  of  life. 
"The  success  of  the  meeting,"  he  writes,  "was  a  most  signal  rebuke  to  our  cow 
ardice.  For  two  days  we  had  waited  for  the  devil  to  give  place,  and  because  he 
did  not,  we  were  almost  willing  to  smother  our  convictions  of  duty  and  allow 
wickedness  to  go  unrebuked." 


MILLIKEN'S    BEND.  113 

a  mile  back  of  the  encampments,  and  there,  under  the  trees,  the 
moonbeams  glancing  down  through  the  silent  leaves,  was  a  band  of 
about  forty  men.  As  we  came  up,  some  one  was  praying.  We 
listened  until  the  fervent  "Amen"  had  sounded  throughout  the  group, 
and  then,  without  any  introduction,  I  stepped  forward  and  began 
addressing  them.  They  were  amazed  at  the  unlooked-for  appearance 
of  a  civilian  among  them,  but  seemed  deeply  interested.  At  the 
close,  they  came  around  me  to  express  their  gratitude  and  pleasure. 
Said  one — 

"  Stranger,  where  did  you  come  from  ?  did  you  drop  down  from 
heaven  or  from  where  ?" 

I  told  them  my  Delegate's  errand, — that  I  had  come  from  their 
Northern  homes  to  tell  them  they  were  not  forgotten,  and  to  encour 
age  them  to  be  soldiers  of  the  cross  as  they  were  of  the  country. 
They  appeared  much  affected.  To  my  inquiry  why  they  were  meet 
ing  thus  out  in  the  woods,  they  told  me  that  they  belonged  to  regi 
ments  of  which  nearly  all,  officers  as  well  as  men,  were  opposed  to 
Christianity,  and  had  interfered  with  their  worship.  They  had 
gathered  together  thus  in  this  secret  place  of  prayer  that  they  might 
come  in  quiet  to  Him  who  hears  and  answers  all  human  petitions. 

I  called  upon  their  commanders,  and,  getting  their  assurances  that 
these  men  should  be  protected  afterwards  in  their  common  devotional 
exercises,  organized  a  Christian  association  in  each  regiment. 

Gen.  Fisk,  in  his  address  at  the  Anniversary  of  the 
American  Bible  Society,  in  May,  1866,  relates  an  inci 
dent  of  this  campaign : 

More  than  25,000  Bibles  and  Testaments  have  been  given  to 
soldiers  and  sailors  from  my  own  headquarters.  I  believed  in  putting 
them  beside  the  Tactics  and  Army  Regulations.  Let  me  tell  you  a 
little  incident  connected  with  the  distribution.  There 

was  a  brave  soldier  from  Iowa,  Col.  Samuel  Rice, —      ((rr   e™'  „ 

JL  ctctics, 
a  name  now  honored  in  the  army  by  the  death  of 

that  Christian  soldier,  who  died  at  Spottsylvania1  with  his  face  to  the 
foe.  Col.  Rice  commanded  a  brigade  of  my  division  in  the  Army 


1  See  p.  248. 


114  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

of  the  Mississippi.  In  the  summer  of  1863,  the  War  Department 
advised  us  that  a  new  edition  of  Army  Tactics,  prepared  by  Gen. 
Casey,  would  soon  be  issued.  We  were  eager  to  receive  the  book, 
and  inquiries  at  headquarters  were  frequently  made  after  the  new 
Tactics. 

One  morning  I  received  a  package  of  a  thousand  Testaments 
printed  by  the  American  Bible  Society.  They  were  put  up  at  my 
headquarters,  in  a  nice  little  case,  showing  the  backs  with  the  titles 
in  gilt  letters.  Soon  afterwards  Col.  Rice  came  in,  and  seeing  books 
in  the  case,  said — 

"  So  the  Tactics  have  come ;  I  am  glad  of  it." 
"  Yes,  Colonel,"  said  I,  "  the  Tactics  have  come." 
"  Can  I  make  my  requisition  for  them  this  morning  ?" 
I  replied  affirmatively. 

"  General,"  said  he,  "  have  you  read  these  new  Tactics  ?" 
"  Yes,  sir,  I  have ;  I  have  studied  them,  and  I  mean  to  study 
them  morning  and  evening  while  I  live." 

He  made  his  requisition  for  "forty-two  Casey's  Tactics,"  through 
his  Adjutant  General.  When  it  was  presented,  I  tied  up  a  package 
of  forty-two  Testaments  and  sent  them  out  to  his  headquarters.  His 
officers  all  gathered  round  to  get  the  new  book.  As  they  opened  the 
package,  out  came  the  Testaments.  Of  course,  there  was  a  moment 
ary  disappointment  in  the  group,  but  it  was  the  human  means  of 
leading  more  than  one  of  them  to  a  saving  knowledge  of  these 
Tactics. 

Col.  Rice,  for  a  long  time,  had  been  seriously  inclined.  He  had 
been  to  our  meetings  and  had  talked  to  me  on  the  great  subject.  He 
began  reading  the  Bible  from  that  very  day,  earnestly  and  prayer 
fully.  A  few  months  afterwards,  while  leading  his  courageous  boys 
against  the  bayonets  of  General  Price,  he  received  a  serious  wound. 
I  visited  him  as  he  passed  up  the  Mississippi  river  to  his  home  to  die, 
and  found  him  rejoicing  in  hope,  clinging  to  the  "sure  word  of 
prophecy"  contained  in  the  Blessed  Book,  and  looking  forward  to  the 
time  when  he  should  join  the  great  army  above.  I  sat  down  with 
him,  and  we  sang  together — 

"  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
Feel  *o?t  as  downy  pillows  are, 


SIEGE  OF    VICKSBUKG.  115 

As  on  His  breast  I  lean  my  head, 

And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there." 

A  few  days  ago  I  received  from  his  Chaplain  a  long  epistle,  telling 
me  how  triumphantly  and  gloriously  this  soldier  left  earth  for 
heaven. 

Mr.  S.  E.  Bridgman1  preserves  a  story  of  the  opera 
tions  of  the  fleet  against  Vicksburg,  told  by  Surgeon 
Hopkins,2  in  a  letter  to  his  mother : 

You  ask  for  a  story,  mother ;  shall  I  give  you  one  sad  or  glad  ? 
You  remember  the  sad  loss  of  the  Cincinnati  late*  in  May.  In  the 
afternoon  the  wounded  were  brought  in.  I  will  give  you  the  story 

of  one  of  them.     His  name  was  David  Hans.     He 

Asleep. 

was   a   handsome,  finely-developed   young   man   of 

twenty-three  or  twenty-five  years.     His  left  leg  was  shot  off  just 

above  the  knee,  but  left  hanging  by  a  few  shreds  of  muscles. 

In  this  condition  he  swam  ashore,  refusing  to  be  assisted.  Pale, 
haggard,  bloodless,  he  was  brought  aboard.  Not  a  murmur,  not  a 
groan,  but  such  a  weary,  weary  aspect.  Presently  he  said — 

"  Can  you  put  me  to  sleep  ?     I  am  in  great  pain." 

"  Yes,  yes,  we  will  put  you  to  sleep  right  away." 

His  eyes  were  large,  clear  and  blue,  full  of  an  unutterable  soul. 
They  continued  their  wonderful  silent  eloquence — noiseless,  alternate 
light  and  shade — till  the  chloroform  closed  them. 

Another  patient  was  brought  in,  also  severely  wounded,  making 
the  same  request — 

"  Can  you  put  me  to  sleep  ?" 

So  I  left  the  first  before  the  amputation  was  begun,  to  give  relief 
to  the  second.  He  was  of  a  different  temperament  from  the  other  and 
more  clamorous,  but  after  a  little  while  I  had  him  very  quiet.  Then 
I  said  to  the  sister — 

"  Watch  him  for  a  few  moments ;  if  he  stops  breathing,  call  me ;  I 
must  see  the  other  man." 


1  Of  Northampton,  Mass. 

2  U.  S.  N.     Now  resident  at  Newburg,  N.  Y. 


116  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

I  went.  The  operation  was  nearly  completed.  Soon  the  dressings 
were  all  applied,  and  we  laid  him  on  a  bed.  After  another  amputa 
tion,  I  went  to  him  again.  He  was  awake,  and  again  in  pain: 

"  I  want  to  go  to  sleep ;  will  you  put  me  to  sleep  ?" 

0  poor,  pale  face !     I  see  it  now.     Even  the  tongue  was  white.     I 
almost  wept.     Could  I  hope  ?     But  I  could  not  hesitate  what  to  do. 
That  meek  "  Will  you  put  me  to  sleep  ?"  brave,  yet  bordering  on  the 
plaintive ;  having  the  slightest  possible  touch  of  piteousness,  yet  so 
quiet  and  so  grand  !     He  was  teaching  me  the  sublimity  of  unmur 
muring  suffering. 

"  Yes,  yes,  we  will  put  you  to  sleep." 

His  eyes  opened  and  closed  so  wearily,  so  wrearily !  They  were 
wonderful  eyes,  clear  as  two  perfect  stars,  and  over  them  the  fine 
smooth  brow  and  wavy  hair,  abundant  and  beautiful. 

"  Will  you  give  me  some  wrater  ?" 

He  drank  and  lay  still  again.  Presently  a  little  stimulant  was 
brought  him.  He  swallowed  it  indifferently: 

"  Will  that  help  me  sleep  ?" 

"  Yes,  you  will  sleep  now." 

Previously  a  small  anodyne  powder  had  been  given  him.  Then 
he  was  quiet  for  a  little. 

1  had  a  hope  for  him,  but  with  an  awful  sense  that  it  had  no  foun 
dation.     Very  soon  he  grew  restless,  a  restlessness  hard  for  wrords  to 
picture, — peculiar,  and  such  as  I,  poor  yearling  doctor,  had  already 
learned  to  dread.     The  restlessness  became  extreme.     I  left  him  for 
a  while,  then  returned.     Will  he  be  asleep  ?     He  is  quiet  now. 

O  beautiful  eyes ! — beautiful  no  longer !  It  was  the  soul  that  gave 
them  beauty.  Then  the  soul  must  be  very  beautiful.  Everything 
is  calm  now.  Is  he  asleep  ?  Yes,  thank  God,  asleep  now ;  and  an 
angel  will  waken  him  soon. 

The  Congregationalist  of  August  14th,  1863,  contained 
a  short  memoir1  of  Capt.  Henry  M.  Kellogg,  Co.  C,  33d 
111.  Inf.,  who  was  killed  May  20th,  in  the  charge  upon 
the  Rebel  works.  We  make  a  few  extracts: 


Prepared  by  C.  A.  Richardson,  Esq.,  one  of  the  editors. 


SIEGE   OF   VICKSBUKG.  117 

He  had  a  strong  anticipation  of  his  death,  and  the  event  did  not 
find  him  unprepared.  Says  the  Lieutenant-Colonel  of  his  regiment — 

"  I  saw  him  when  he  inarched  to  his  death,  with  a  clear  presenti 
ment  of  his  fate,  calm  and  resolute.  When  upon  the 

,.    ,  .  .       f  The   Soldier's 

ground   he  pointed   to   a  little  eminence  in   front,      presentiment 

saying— 

"  '  I  shall  fall  about  that  spot.' 

"  Then,  as  they  went  forward  to  the  attack,  he  being  in  advance 
of  his  company,  waved  his  sword  above  his  head,  calling  out  to  his 
men — 

"  '  Follow  me  to  victory  or  death.' " 

He  fell  within  ten  feet  of  the  spot  he  had  pointed  out,  and  when 
removed  a  few  minutes  after,  his  sword  was  held  so  firmly  as  to 
require  some  force  in  unclasping  his  hand  from  the  hilt. 

A  brief  letter,  written  only  four  days  before  he  fell,  discloses  his 
yearnings  for  the  dear  objects  of  his  love,  and  his  entire  reliance 
upon  the  Divine  will : 

SATURDAY  MORNING,  2  O'CLOCK. 

MY  DARLING  AMA  AND  HARRY  : — One  more  word  before  I  en 
gage  in  a  deadly  conflict  with  the  enemy.  This  may  be  my  last 

message  to  you, — God  knows  and  will  do  right.    Our 

,      ^  .  "My  Body  is 

heavenly  Jb  ather   has  permitted   us  to  spend  many       y    ^  „ 

happy   days    together.      We   shall    have   more   in 
heaven. 

If  I  fall,  Ama,  live  and  be  happy  'for  Harry's  sake.  Remember 
I  am  not  dead,  but  have  only  put  off  the  body  to  take  a  crown  of 
glory.  I  shall  be  just  as  much  with  you  as  ever.  Try  to  think  so. 
See  me  not  dead  but  ever  at  your  side.  Harry,  my  precious  boy, 
you  know  not  how  your  father's  heart  yearns  for  you  ;  meet  me,  my 
boy,  in  heaven.  There  we  will  pluck  flowers  that  never  fade. 

I  love  you  both,  my  treasures — God  knows  how  well,  but  if  it  is 
best,  I  can  cheerfully  die  for  my  country.  Ama,  let  this  thought 
console  you,  when  you  think  of  me.  I  do  not  dread  to  die.  I  do 
not  dread  to  suffer  with  wounds,  for  my  body  is  not  me,  and  its  pains 
shall  not  disturb  the  peace  of  my  soul.  I  am  ready  for  God's  will. 

Good-bye,  my  Ama  and  my  Harry,  my  wife  and  my  boy,  my  father 
and  my  mother,  my  brothers  and  my  sisters.  Your 

HENRY. 


118  CHRISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

Mr.  F.  G.  Ensign1  about  this  time  was  commissioned 
by  the  St.  Louis  Committee  for  the  Avork  on  the  Missis 
sippi,  with  which  he  was  afterwards  so  long  connected. 
He  writes : 

In  June,  \vhen  we  were  trying  to  get  into  the  rear  of  Vicksburg,  we 
stopped  one  day  by  a  little  spring  to  get  a  drink.  A  soldier  came 
down  who  had  a  cup  in  his  hand ;  he  gave  it  to  us  to  drink  from.  We 

"  I  W'll "  tnanked  him  for  his  kindness,  and  asked  if  he  had 
drunk  of  that  water  of  which  the  Saviour  spoke. 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  I  have  not." 

"  Well,  then,  you  don't  love  the  Saviour.  Why  can't  you  begin 
now  ?" 

"  I've  been  thinking  of  it,  sir,  a  great  deal,  and  know  I  ought  to." 

"  Why  not  decide  it  now  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  he ;— "  I  can't." 

"  But  God  thinks  you  can,  and  is  ready  for  you  now." 

He  thought  a  moment,  and  then  his  reply  came  firm  and  clear — 

"  I  will." 

Just  then  some  others  came  to  the  spring.  I  gave  the  soldier  a 
little  book,  and  commending  him  to  Christ,  we  separated. 

After  the  surrender,  I  was  back  at  Memphis  in  the  Soldiers'  Lodge, 
visiting  and  ministering  to  all  there  as  I  could.  I  came  to  an  emaci 
ated-looking  young  man,  who  seemed  to  have  gone  through  very  much 
suffering.  Bending  over  him,  I  asked  what  I  should  do  for  him. 
He  opened  his  eyes  and  throwing  his  arms  round  my  neck,  said — 

"  Can  it  be  possible  this  is  you  ?" 

I  did  not  remember  his  face,  and  so  I  told  him  : 

"You  don't  know  me?  Don't  you  remember  the  soldier  you  met 
on  Chickasaw  Bayou,  near  the  spring  ?  Don't  you  remember  a  little 
book  you  gave  me  ?" 

I  said  that  I  did  remember  the  circumstances. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  gave  my  heart  to  Jesus.  I  am  not  going  to 
live  long.  I  am  going  to  die.  But  I  know,  when  I  die  I  shall  go 
up  home." 


1  Student  in  Chicago  (Congregational)  Theological  Seminary.     Since  the  close 
of  the  war,  Western  Secretary  of  the  American  Christian  Commission. 


SIEGE    OF    VICKSBUKG.  119 

Rev.  Edward  P.  Smith,  under  instructions  from  the 
Central  Office,  left  his  own  field  temporarily  to  visit  the 
army  before  Vicksburg,  in  June.  In  connection  with 
the  Delegates  from  Peoria,  Chicago  and  St.  Louis,  an 
earnest  work  of  religious  ministration  was  kept  up 
during  his  stay,  and  until  the  surrender  of  the  city. 
Mr.  Smith's  health  gave  way  however  under  the  cli 
mate.  He  writes  of  his  sickness  and  recovery : 

I  had  been  in  the  army  but  a  few  days  when  I  was  taken  sick 
with  the  malarial  fever,  and  carried  to  a  division  hospital.  It  was 
my  first  experience  of  sickness  in  camp.  I  said  to  myself,  when  they 

had  carried  me  into  the  tent  and  left  me  alone,  with- 

The  Bright  Side 
out  even  a  sick  comrade—  where  Jesus  ^ 

"Now  you  will  have  an  opportunity  to  try  the 
efficacy  of  the  counsels  you  have  so  often  given  to  soldiers  in  like 
circumstances," — for  many  a  time,  by  the  cot  of  a  sick  soldier  longing 
for  home,  I  had  said — 

"Only  trust  in  Jesus,  and  He  will  take  care  of  you  here,  just  as 
well  as  if  you  were  at  home." 

But  I  found  it  far  easier  to  preach  than  to  practice.  I  knew  that 
God  does  all  things  right  and  well,  but  I  could  not  help  the  feeling 
that  a  change  in  my  present  prospects  would  be  an  improvement. 

I  passed  a  sleepless  night — alone,  and  without  a  light.  The  more 
I  tried  to  settle  into  the  conviction  that  God  would  provide,  and 
make  it  good  for  me,  the  more  I  was  longing  for  a  change.  My  the 
ology  said,  "  It  is  right  and  well  for  me  to  be  sick  among  strangers,  if 
God  wills ;"  and  my  heart  always  added,  "Yes,  but  it  would  be  better 
to  be  sick  at  home."  While  I  lay  thus  thinking  and  tossing  on  my 
blanket,  just  at  the  gray  of  the  dawn  in  the  morning,  the  fold  of  my 
tent  parted,  and  a  black  face  peered  through.  It  was  "Old  Nanny," 
a  colored  woman  who  had  taken  my  washing  the  day  before.  I  could 
hear  no  one  else  moving  about  the  hospital;  what  had  sent  her  there 
nt  that  hour?  Looking  tenderly  at  me,  she  said — 

"Massa,  does  ye  see  de  bright  side,  dis  mornin'?" 

"No,  Nanny,"  said  I,  "it  isn't  so  bright  as  I  wish  it  was." 


120  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Well,  massa,  I  allus  sees  de  bright  side." 

"  You  do,"  said  I;  "'maybe  you  haven't  had  much  trouble?" 

"'Maybe  not,"  she  said;  and  then  went  on  to  tell  me,  in  her 
simple,  broken  way,  of  her  life  in  Virginia,  of  the  selling  of 
her  children  one  by  one,  of  the  auction  sale  of  her  husband,  and  then 
of  herself.  She  was  alone  now  in  the  camp,  without  having  heard 
from  one  of  her  kindred  for  years : 

"  'Maybe  I  ain't  seen  no  trouble,  massa  ?" 

"  But,  Nanny,"  said  I,  "  have  you  seen  the  bright  side  all  the  time  ?" 

"Allus,  massa,  allus." 

"Well,  how  did  you  do  it?" 

"  Dis  is  de  way,  massa.  When  I  see  de  great  brack  cloud  comin' 
over  " — and  she  waved  her  dark  hand  inside  the  tent,  as  though  one 
might  be  settling  down  there ;  "  an'  'pears  like  it's  comin'  crushin' 
down  on  me,  den  I  jist  whips  aroun'  on  de  oder  side,  an'  I  find  de 
Lord  Jesus  dar;  an'  den  it's  all  bright  an'  cl'ar.  De  bright  side's 
allus  whar  Jesus  is,  massa." 

"  Well,  Nanny,"  said  I,  "if  you  can  do  that,  I  think  I  ought  to?" 

"  'Pears  like  ye  ought  to,  massa,  an'  you's  a  preacher  of  de  Word 
of  Jesus." 

She  went  away.  I  turned  myself  on  my  blanket  and  said  in  my 
heart,  "  '  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd.'  It  is  all  right  and  well.  Now, 
come  fever  or  health,  come  death  or  life,  come  burial  on  the  Yazoo 
Bluff  or  in  the  churchyard  at  home, — '  the  Lord  is  my  Shepherd.' " 

With  -this  sweet  peace  of  rest,  God's  care  and  love  became  very 
precious  to  me.  I  fell  asleep.  When  I  woke  I  was  in  a  perspiration  ; 
my  fever  was  broken.  "  Old  Nanny's  "  faith  had  made  me  whole. 

The  following  incident,  illustrating  the  true  manliness 
of  a  Christian  soldier,  the  power  of  right  early  training, 
the  constant  solicitude  of  friends  at  home,  and  the  way 
in  which  the  Commission  was,  not  unfrequently,  the 
direct  channel  of  good  news,  has  been  preserved  by  an 
agent  of  the  Commission,  who  was  for  a  short  time  on 
duty  before  Yicksburg : 

The  night  scenes  were  sometimes  grand  indeed  ;  shells  discharged 


SIEGE   OF   VICKSBUKG.  121 

from  the  land  batteries  traced  their  beautiful,  fiery  paths  high  into  the 
air  above  the  beleagured  city,  and  meeting  there  the  missiles  ascend 
ing  on  the  same  errand  from  Commodore  Porter's 
fleet,  crossed  them  in  brilliant  curves,  making  the      .    «•  ».!?    ^ 

IS  jtClQ/lt* 

beholder  almost  forgetful  of  the  mission  on  which  the 
monsters  were  sent.  On  one  of  these  brilliant  nights,  I  came  upon  a 
regimental  prayer  meeting,  under  a  bluff  within  short  musket  range 
of  the  enemy's  works.  Whenever  there  was  a  discharge  from  our 
batteries,  the  Rebel  sharpshooters  along  their  lines  would  reply  by  a 
shower  of  minie  balls,  which  cut  the  leaves  over  our  heads,  and 
occasionally  glanced  down  to  the  ground  at  our  feet.  By  order  of  the 
Brigade  commander,  to  prevent  drawing  the  attention,  and  perhaps 
the  fire  of  the  enemy,  the  hymns  were  sung  in  a  low,  muffled  voice,  but 
loud  enough  to  "  make  melody  in  our  hearts."  The  meeting  was  led 
by  one  of  the  Captains  of  the  regiment.  There  was  something  genu 
ine  and  manly  in  the  piety  of  the  leader,  which  seemed  to  win  the 
affection  and  attention  of  the  soldiers.  I  was  so  much  struck  with  it  that 
I  could  not  forbear  seeking  his  acquaintance ;  and,  on  invitation,  meet 
ing  him  the  next  day,  we  walked  over  to  the  Colonel's  tent. 

As  the  custom  was,  we  were  courteously  offered  a  drink  from  the 
ubiquitous  bottle.  As  the  single  glass  passed  round  the  circle,  near- 
ing  me  every  moment,  I  questioned  in  my  own  mind  what  terms  I 
should  use  in  declining;  but  I  was  yet  more  interested  to  see 
what  course  my  Christian  Captain  would  take.  When  the  Colonel 
called  upon  him,  he  declined  ;  was  invited  again,  and  again  declined ; 
and  the  third  time  did  it  so  decidedly,  and  yet  respectfully,  as  not  to 
give  offence,  nor  to  be  further  importuned.  I  said  to  him  afterwards — 

"  Captain,  do  you  always  do  that  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  have  never  taken  any  intoxicating 
liquor?" 

"Yes,  just  that." 

"  What,  not  even  to  '  correct '  this  Yazoo  water  ?" 

"  Never." 

"  You  must  have  belonged  to  the  cold  water  army  in  your  boyhood  ?" 

"Yes;  but  I  learned  something  better  than  that;  my  mother  taught 
me  this  one  thing, — '  what  is  right,  is  right,'  and  coming  to  Missis 
sippi  don't  make  any  difference.  It  would  not  be  right  for  me  to 


122  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

accept  an  invitation  to  drink  at  home ;  I  don't  believe  it's  right  here, 
— therefore  I  don't  drink." 

A  few  weeks  afterwards,  passing  up  the  Mississippi  river,  I  addressed 
a  Sabbath  evening  congregation.  After  the  service,  a  lady  came  to 
inquire  about  her  boy, — "  foolishly,"  she  said,  for  it  was  not  likely 
that  in  an  army  of  40,000  men  I  had  seen  her  boy  ;  but  still  she 
wanted  to  ask  me  if  I  had  met  him.  She  told  me  of  her  anxiety  for 
his  welfare, — how  she  feared  that  the  bad  influences  of  the  camp 
would  lead  him  astray. 

"  He  promised  me  that  he  would  do  well,"  said  she,  "  and  I  have 
no  reason  to  think  he  doesn't  do  well ;  but  if  I  could  only  see  some 
body  who  could  tell  me  from  actual  knowledge  how  he  is  doing,  it 
would  be  such  a  relief." 

She  told  me  his  name  and  regiment.  I  assured  her  that  there  was 
hardly  ground  for  all  the  fear  mothers  were  exercising  for  their  absent 
boys ;  that  very  many  soldiers  were  actually  becoming  better  men, 
growing  strong  under  trial.  And  then,  to  illustrate  I  told  her,  with 
out  mentioning  names,  of  my  Captain,  of  the  prayer  meeting,  and 
of  the  scene  in  the  Colonel's  tent. 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  "  that's  beautiful, — that's  beautiful.  His  mother 
must  be  proud  of  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  that  she  is, — and  you  are  the  proud  mother  /" 

I  never  shall  forget  the  joy  that  shone  in  her  face,  and  how  she 
sprang  across  the  carpet,  and  catching  my  hand  in  both  hers,  wet  it 
with  grateful  tears  : 

"  Is  that  my  boy, — is  that  Will  ?  It's  just  like  him  ;  I  knew  he 
would  do  so.  He  always  was  a  good  boy ;  he  told  me  he  always 
would  be, — and  I  knew  he  would." 

Some  instances  of  the  heroism  and  trust  of  our  sol 
diers  and  sailors  before  Vicksburg  will  fitly  close  this 
chapter : 

In  the  terrible  charge  of  May  22d,  Sergeant  Fainter,  of  the  18th 
Illinois,  was  mortally  wounded.  As  he  lay  bleeding  to  death,  he 
called  two  of  his  comrades  to  his  side.  They  took  his  last  message 
home : 


SIEGE   OF   VICKSBUKG.  123 

"  I  die  in  peace ;  they  must  meet  me  in  heaven."  Dying  Beneath 

He  called  for  the  flag ;  they  brought  it.    He  looked      the    Stars    and 
at  the  torn   banner  with   all  a  soldier's   love  and      Stripes. 
devotion  : 

"  Say  to  the  boys  that  I  am  gone ;  but  tell  them  never  to  give  up 
the  contest  until  Vicksburg  falls." 

His  voice  grew  fainter ;  comrades  bent  over  to  get  his  last  words ; 
they  could  only  hear  a  murmured  request  that  the  flag  should  be 
waved  over  him.  Silently  and  solemnly  it  swayed  above  the  soldier's 
head  until  he  was  at  rest. 

Rev.  W.  C.  Van  Meter,1  a  Delegate  of  the  Chicago 
Committee,  relates  the  following  incident : 

On  my  way  from  Vicksburg,  I  met  A.  M.  Shipman,  an  Ohio 
volunteer,  who  was  confined  for  eight  months  as  a  hostage  in  the 
Vicksburg  jail,  but  was  released  at  the  surrender.  A  fellow-prisoner, 
who  had  been  forced  into  the  Rebel  army  and  had 

deserted  to  ours,  was  recaptured  and   shot  by  the         "*  am  to  be 

T   j-          ,x-        •    x     ™     ™-  >         Shot/or  Defend- 

enemy.    He  succeeded  in  getting  into  Mr.  Shipman's      ing my  Country." 

hands  before  the  execution  the  following  note : 

"  Kind  friend,  if  ever  you  reach  our  happy  lines,  have  this  put  in 
the  Northern  papers,  that  my  father,  the  Rev.  Leonard  Marsh,  who 
resides  in  Maine,  may  know  what  has  become  of  me,  and  what  I  was 
shot  for.  I  am  to  be  shot  for  defending  my  country ;  I  love  her  and 
am  willing  to  die  for  her.  Tell  my  parents  I  am  also  happy  in  the 
Lord.  My  future  is  bright.  I  hope  to  speak  to  you  as  I  pass  out  to 
die.  JOHN  B.  MARSH." 

One  of  the  guards  said  to  Mr.  Shipman  that  when  young  Marsh 
was  placed  by  his  coffin  and  ready  to  receive  the  fire  of  his  execu 
tioners,  he  was  told  he  could  speak  a  word  if  he  desired  to.  Stepping 
upon  his  coffin  and  looking  round  on  that  fierce  crowd  of  Union- 
haters,  he  cried  out — 

"Three  cheers  for  the  Old  Flag  and  the  Union  /" 

Of  course  the  patriotic  sentiment  met  no  response  from  that  audi- 


Of  the  Howard  Mission,  New  York  city. 


124 


CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 


ence.  Then,  with  his  hands  pinioned  behind  and  his  eye  lifted  as  if 
the  flag  were  in  view,  he  shouted  forth  his  own  three  cheers, 
"Hurrah!  hurrah!  hurrah!" 

The  clear,  ringing  voice  had  scarcely  died  away,  when  the  sharp 
crack  of  musketry  added  another  name  to  the  long  roll  of  the  mar 
tyrs  to  the  dear  "  Old  Flag." 


"GET   THE   SHIP   BY,   BOYS." 

The  heroes  were  not  in  the  army  alone : 

As  Farragut  swept  up  the  Mississippi,  past  the  Vicksburg  batter 
ies,  Lieut.  Cummings  had  a  leg  shot  away  by  a  Rebel  ball.    Refusing 

to  go  below,  he  shouted  out  to  his  brave  tars — 
"Get  the  Ship  ,        ,  .      , 

^  Bo  g  „  "  Get  the  ship  by  the  batteries, — get  the  ship  by, 

boys,  and  they  may  have  the  other  leg." 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE    EASTERN  ARMIES. 

FROM  THE    BEGINNING   OF    1863  UNTIL    LEE'S   SECOND    INVASION. 
January  1863—  July  1863. 

AT  the  beginning  of  1863  the  Commission  had  two 
stations  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  ;  one  at  the  village 
of  Acquia,  the  other  at  the  railroad  terminus  at  Fal- 
mouth,  opposite  Fredericksburg.  Burnside's  second 
attempt  to  cross  the  Rappahannock,  frustrated  by  rain, 
sleet,  mud  and  cold,  put  thousands  of  veterans  under  the 
Surgeon's  care  in  the  field  hospital  at  Windmill  Point, 
on  the  Potomac,  a  few  miles  below  Acquia  Creek.  A 
station  of  the  Commission  was  continued  here  until  the 
hospital  was  suddenly  broken  up,  and  the  patients  re 
moved  elsewhere. 

Mr.  T.  O.  Crawford,  of  Philadelphia,  relates  two  inci 
dents  which  occurred  at  this  hospital  in  February  and 
March  : 

John   B.  Mitchell,  of  Mercer,  Pa.,  was  dying  of  typhoid  fever. 
His  tongue  was  so  parched  that  he  could  not  speak.     I  thought  a 
lemon  might  slake  his  thirst  and  enable  him  to  converse.     Getting 
the  Surgeon's  consent,  I  gave  him  one.     The  poor 
fellow  tried   vainly  to  thank  me.      When  he  had  Soldier's 


eaten  it,  he  could  talk  quite  easily.     I  found  that 
though  he  had  been  a  Sabbath-school  scholar,  he  had  no  sense  of  the 

125 


126  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

comforting  nearness  of  Christ.  Earnestly  I  told  him  the  story  of 
Jesus  crucified  for  him ;  of  the  agony  of  that  hour  of  the  world's 
redemption ;  of  the  dying  thief  who,  even  so  late,  could  yet  enter 
paradise.  My  heart  yearned  for  the  poor  fellowr,  looking  up  at  me 
out  of  his  sore  need  for  help.  I  asked  him  if  he  could  not  adopt 
these  words  as  his  prayer : 

"  Lord,  remember  me  when  Thou  comest  into  Thy  kingdom." 

Hope  came  into  the  flushed  face,  as  he  answered  that  he  could.  I 
spent  a  long  time  at  his  side,  explaining  to  him  the  meaning  of 
Christ's  atonement  and  sacrifice.  I  never  had  such  a  listener.  At 
last  I  turned  to  go  away,  saying — 

"  I'll  pray  for  you,  my  dear  brother,  that  God,  for  Christ's  sake, 
may  take  you  to  Himself." 

Pie  looked  after  me  imploringly : 

"  Don't  go ;  don't  go ;  I  want  to  talk  more  about  Jesus." 

I  returned  to  his  side  and  stayed  with  him  some  time  longer.  It 
seemed  to  comfort  him  very  much,  Again,  when  I  tried  to  leave 
him,  he  fixed  his  large,  blue  eyes  on  me,  exclaiming — 

"  O  sir,  don't  leave  me !  Can't  you  stay  with  me  longer?  Please, 
do  stay." 

I  told  him  about  others  who  might  need  me,  as  he  did.  At  once 
he  was  quiet  about  his  wants.  Christ's  story  had  taught  him  already 
the  lesson  of  sacrifice.  Telling  him  I  would  come  again  in  the 
morning  and  write  his  friends,  I  bade  him  good-bye — my  last. 

Early  the  next  day  I  hastened  to  the  tent.  The  soldier's  place  was 
vacant.  The  nurse  told  me  how  he  had  gone  away  home : 

"After  you  left  he  began  praying,  and  kept  on  a  long  time.  About 
six  o'clock  he  looked  around  and  asked  for  you.  We  didn't  know 
where  you  were,  or  we  would  have  gone  for  you.  Then  he  asked  the 
other  boys  in  the  tent  to  pray  for  him ;  but  they  were  too  sick,  or 
couldn't.  Then  he  began  praying  again,  and  at  eight  o'clock  he 
spoke  out,  so  that  we  could  all  hear  him— 

"  'Amen,  it's  all  right  now :  I  am  ready  to  die.' 

"  In  ten  minutes  he  was  dead.  I've  been  a  nurse  seventeen  months, 
Chaplain,  but  that  was  the  happiest  death  I  ever  saw." 

I  was  sent  for  by  a  Drum  Major  of  the  147th  N.  Y.  Eegt.  The 
conversation  which  followed  the  meeting  was  intensely  interesting ; 
the  soldier  opening  up  to  me  all  the  hidden  strifes  and  troubles  of  his 


WINDMILL    POINT    HOSPITAL.  127 

heart,  and  yearning  so  earnestly  for  some  relief  and 

peace.    His  parents  were  Christians ;  his  father,  who 

A  Victory. 

had  been  a  Deacon,  died  when  he  was  fifteen.  After 
that  he  had  taken  no  counsel  but  his  own.  When  twenty-five  years 
old,  he  went  into  a  liquor  store,  and  there  became  a  habitual  drunk 
ard.  Through  all,  however,  he  managed  to  make  money  rapidly. 
Warnings  of  severe  sickness  were  unheeded.  Once  he  told  his 
mother-in-law,  that  if  he  were  to  meet  God  after  death,  he  would 
laugh  to  think  what  a  jolly  life  he  had  led.  Soon  he  became  so  much 
a  slave  to  rum  that  he  could  not  do  without  it.  In  the  Autumn  of 
1862,  he  enlisted,  thinking  that  his  accumulations  would  do  him  little 
good  if  the  Rebels  were  victors.  He  began  to  try  to  get  along  with 
out  his  stimulant,  but  became  weak — almost  helpless — and  so  took 
to  the  canteen  again.  A  Lieutenant  came  to  his  tent  every  morning 
for  his  "bitters,"  and  the  drunkards  of  the  company  generally 
regarded  him  as  their  leader.  On  the  march  to  Falmouth,  in  a 
drunken  spree,  he  injured  himself  severely,  and  was  compelled  to  go 
to  Windmill  Point  Hospital. 

Now  began  a  terrible  mental  conflict.  At  one  time  he  would 
resolve,  after  reading,  that  the  Bible  was  "  all  trash ;"  at  another,  its 
deep  spiritual  power  would  scatter  his  vain  objections,  and  make  him 
almost  insane  with  desire  for  deliverance  either  from  its  judgments 
or  his  own  sins.  He  feebly  strove  to  stop  his  drinking  habits ;  at  one 
time  he  would  swear  that  he  would  not  owe  his  life  to  brandy,  even  if  it 
could  save  him ;  again,  he  would  take  it  when  the  Surgeon  prescribed 
it.  At  last  the  meaning  of  his  conflict  with  himself  began  to  dawn 
upon  him.  There  were  more  than  temptations  assailing  him — there 
was  a  Tempter.  There  were  more  than  the  words  of  a  book  condemn 
ing,  yet  helping  him — there  was  a  Deliverer.  He  saw  that  the 
Tempter  had  so  environed  him  with  the  toils  of  a  habit  that  these 
must  be  broken  ere  he  could  gain  the  victory.  So  he  called  on  the 
unknown  Deliverer  for  help. 

It  was  at  this  stage  I  found  him.  He  was  told  of  Jesus,  of  the 
"  faithful  saying,"  of  the  agony  and  bloody  sweat,  of  the  cross  and 
passion,  of  the  glorious  resurrection  and  ascension.  A  substitute  for 
the  brandy  which  had  been  prescribed  was  found,  and  the  poor, 
weak,  erring  man  began  to  retrace  the  way  of  his  lost  life.  Next  to 
the  Bible,  the  book  which  seemed  to  meet  most  his  inner  needs  was 


128  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION"    INCIDENTS. 

James'  Anxious  Inquirer  Directed.  Slowly  strength  returned,  and 
the  iron  bands  of  habit  relaxed.  He  stood  up  a  new  man.  He 
spoke  earnestly  to  his  former  comrades — to  the  Lieutenant  who  had 
been  his  boon  companion ;  and  in  spite  of  opposition  and  ridicule 
proved  by  every  day's  life,  until  the  regiment  marched  to  the  battle 
field,  that  he  had  really  found  the  Deliverer,  and  how  in  His  assisting 
love  there  wras  freedom  and  peace  indeed. 

Rev.  Hervey  D.  Ganse,1  in  an  address  at  the  organi 
zation  of  the  New  York  Branch  of  the  Commission, 
tells  a  story  of  his  experience  at  Windmill  Point  Hos 
pital  : 

Just  after  my  arrival  at  Windmill  Point,  I  learned  that  there  was 
present,  in  a  neighboring  tent,  a  mother,  who  had  came  from  a 
western  county  of  New  York  to  carry  home  her  sick  son.  He  had 

died  about  twelve  hours  before  her  arrival.  She  had 
th  R  ^"^  cas*  one  ^°°k  uPon  his  features,  wasted  to  a  shadow 

by  the  nature  of  his  disease,  and  declaring  that  she 
could  not  recognize  him,  had  refused  to  look  again.  I  went  with 
others  to  her  tent  to  offer  her  sympathy,  if  not  consolation.  We 
found  her  swaying  back  and  forth  in  her  chair,  in  the  peculiar  ges 
ture  of  distracting  grief.  There  were  some  Christian  ladies  in  the 
company,  and  they  joined  their  voices  in  singing  tenderly — 

"  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul." 

But  it  was  easy  to  see  that  her  heart  was  sealed  against  comfort.  We 
offered  to  pray  with  her,  but  she  had  not  come  to  the  attitude  of 
prayer.  She  spoke  of  nothing  but  her  child's  sufferings.  She  was 
sure  that  he  had  lacked  the  most  necessary  attention.  Oh  that  she 
had  been  with  him !  I  strove  to  console  her  by  appealing  to  her 
Christian  faith.  But  she  turned  upon  me  fiercely  and  demanded — 

"  Why  did  you  not  give  your  attention  to  him  ?" 

I  explained  that  I  had  just  arrived,  but  that  others  who  were  pres 
ent  had  cared  for  his  comfort.  At  length,  in  a  quieter  frame  she 


Pastor  of  Northwest  Eeformed  Protestant  (Dutch)  Church,  New  York  city. 


WINDMILL    POINT    HOSPITAL  129 

kneeled,  while  we  prayed  for  her.  And  when  we  left  her  she  grasped 
my  hand,  and  looking  eagerly  in  my  face  said — 

"  Take  care  of  the  rest." 

I  met  her  again  in  Washington,  and  her  last  words  to  me  again 
were — 

"  Take  care  of  the  rest." 

Eev.  Edward  P.  Smith,1  afterwards  the  General  Field 
Agent  in  the  Western  Army,  had  his  first  experience 
of  work  among  the  soldiers  in  the  Potomac  Army 
during  February  and  March.  From  his  reminiscences 
we  gather  the  following  incidents 

At  Belle  Plain,  passing  over  from  the  First  Division  Hospital, 
where  I  had  spent  the  night  with  some  dying  men,  I  met  a  young 
soldier  detailed  to  fatigue  duty  in  the  hospital.     Giving  him  some 
reading-matter   from   my  haversack,  I   asked   him 
about  his  personal  salvation.     He  gave  me  an  inter-       ~,  .  /, 
esting  account  of  his  early  life  and  orphanage,  of  his 
education  in  the  family  of  a  kind  Christian  man,  who  had  given  him 
a  home,  and  of  the  subsequent  death  of  his  foster-father.    He  told  me 
of  an  only  surviving  friend,  his  Sabbath-school  teacher,  who  occasion 
ally  had  remembered  his  pupil  in  the  army  by  a  letter.     He  showed 
me  one  of  these  letters,  full  of  kindness  and  tender  solicitude  for 
his  conversion.     I  said — 

"  Then  you  are  not  a  Christian  ?" 

"  No,  but  I  wish  I  was.  I  have  been  thinking  and  talking  about 
it  so  long." 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  can  become  a  Christian  to-day  ?" 

"  You  don't  mean  so  soon  as  that  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  mean  that  you  can  begin  a  new  life  and  a  true  life, — and 
that's  a  Christian  life,  to-day.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  try  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  would." 

"  Well,  just  over  that  hill,  near  the  run,  is  a  place  where  you  will 
be  entirely  by  yourself.  Go  and  kneel  down  by  that  tree  and  tell 


Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Pepperell,  Mass. 


130  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

your  Saviour  that  you  want  to  be  a  Christian  now,  and  are  going 
from  this  time  to  try  and  do  His  will ;  then  write  to  your  Sabbath- 
school  teacher  what  you  have  done,  and  find  a  man  in  your  company 
you  know  to  be  a  Christian.  Is  there  such  an  one?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  there  is  ;"  and  he  told  me  his  name.  "  He  is  a 
Christian,  I  know." 

"  Well,  find  that  man  to-day  ;  tell  him  what  you  have  done,  and 
ask  him  to  pray  for  you.  Will  you  do  it?  I  don't  mean,  'Will  you 
thinJc  about  it?'  but, 'Will  you  do  it,'  and  begin  now  over  by  the 
tree  ?" 

"  I  will  try,  sir." 

I  was  in  haste,  and  bade  him  good-bye ;  but  there  was  something 
in  that  farewell  grasp  of  the  hand,  in  the  manly  sincerity  with  which 
he  said,  "  I  will  try,"  that  made  me  feel  that  the  issue  was  already 
made. 

Three  days  after,  just  as  I  was  leaving  that  army,  in  a  battalion 
drill,  I  saw  my  soldier  on  the  extreme  left.     As  the  line  swung  past 
me,  I  had  only  time  to  step  alongside  and  ask,  "Did  you  do  it?"  and 
to  get  the  answer,  quick  and  firm — 
"  Yes,  sir,  I  did  it." 

During  the  interesting  revival  meetings,  held  at  Acquia  Creek,  in 
an   unfinished  hospital   building,  a   Michigan   soldier  stood  up   one 
evening  to  give  his  experience.     He  had  enlisted  a  year  before,  leav 
ing  Katy,  his  wife,  and  a  little  babe  of  one  year  in 
"  her  arms.    Katy  had  written  him  regularly  and  often. 

She  was  a  Christian,  and  never  failed  to  ask  him  the 
great  question,  when  he  too  would  be  a  Christian.  He  had  replied 
to  her  letters  as  often  as  he  could,  but  never  said  anything  about 
becoming  a  follower  of  Jesus. 

"  Two  nights  ago,"  said  he,  "  I  got  this  letter.  It  has  made  me  a 
Christian,  and  I  want  to  read  it  to  you." 

He  read  it  as  best  he  could,  stopping  now  and  then  to  wipe  his  eyes 
and  choke  back  his  sobs.  The  letter  announced  most  tenderly  and 
Christianly  the  death  of  "  Little  Henry,"  told  the  mother's  sorrow 
and  hope,  and  closed  saying — 

"  Now,  Henry,"— that  was  the  father's  name,  too, — "  I  believe  I 
shall  not  live  long,  and  I  expect  when  I  die  to  go  straight  to 
our  dear  little  boy,  and  he  will  ask  me  the  first  thing, '  Where's  papa  ?' 


ACQUIA    CKEEK.  131 

Say,  Henry,  what  shall  I  tell  him  ?     Won't  you  go  with  me  to  see  our 
boy  again,  that  we  may  have  our  home  together  in  heaven?" 

"  When  I  got  that  letter,"  continued  the  soldier,  "  I  could  not 
speak.  I  read  it  twice,  and  put  it  in  my  knapsack,  and  laid  clown  to 
sleep.  But  somehow  I  couldn't  sleep.  I  kept  thinking  all  the  time 
what  my  little  boy  would  say, — '  Where's  papa,  where's  papa?'  I  got 
up,  stirred  the  fire,  read  the  letter  again,  and  then  lay  down  ;  but  I 
could  not  sleep  yet.  It  seemed  as  if  I  must  see  my  boy  once  more. 
I  knelt  on  my  blanket  and  prayed  this  prayer, — '  O  Lord,  take  me 
to  heaven  to  see  Henry ;  do  let  me  see  Henry  once  more.'  I  lay 
down  again,  but  couldn't  sleep.  Then  I  prayed  once  more,  and  while  I 
was  praying,  all  at  once  it  came  over  me,  Suppose  I  should  go  to 
heaven,  Henry  wouldn't  want  to  see  me.  He  is  an  angel  now,  and  I 
am  a  poor,  drinking,  swearing,  miserable  man.  He  would  not  know 
his  father,  and  if  he  did  he  could  not  love  him.  Then  I  began  to 
pray  that  Jesus  would  forgive  all  my  sins  and  make  me  fit  to  go  to 
heaven.  Somehow  while  I  was  praying  I  began  to  believe  and 
to  hope..  I  laid  down  on  my  blanket  and  dreamed  of  dying,- and  of 
seeing  my  boy  and  Katy  and  my  Saviour ;  and  that's  the  way  I 
became  a  Christian.  It  was  Katy's  letter  that  did  it." 

One  stormy  March  evening  the  New  York  troops,  who  had  been 
doing  fatigue  duty  at  the  Acquia  Creek  wharf,  were  relieved  by  a  new 
regiment,  which  was  not  yet  accustomed  to  our  meetings.  We 
adjourned  the  small  gathering  at  the  hospital  build 
ing  to  our  own  quarters,  a  little  building  where  the  p  ^  m 
Delegates  lived,  slept,  wrote  and  prayed.  There  were 
some  ten  or  fifteen  soldiers  present.  The  leader  of  the  meeting  asked 
that  each  one  should  say  a  word  out  of  his  own  experience.  We  had 
passed  thus  round  the  room  ;  the  Delegates  and  all  the  soldiers  save 
two  had  spoken.  One  of  the  silent  ones  rose  and,  pointing  to  his 
throat,  made  signs  that  he  wanted  to  speak,  but  could  not ;  he  was 
suffering  from  acute  aphonia.  He  laid  his  hands  on  his  breast  and 
then  upon  his  lips,  signifying  a  full  heart  that  could  find  no  utter 
ance.  Then,  as  if  he  could  not  be  satisfied  without  some  word  spoken 
for  Christ,  he  motioned  to  a  comrade  to  stand  up  beside  him,  and  by 
signs,— now  of  approval,  and  again  of  dissent,  when  his  proxy  was 
speaking  beyond  the  record,— he  gave  us  a  very  interesting  outline  of 
a  soldier's  trials  and  triumphs  in  the  army. 


132  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

When  he  sat  down,  there  was  but  one  left  in  the  room  who  had  not 
borne  testimony.  He  was  a  young  man  who  had  come  late  into  the 
meeting.  When  he  saw  the  eyes  of  us  all  fixed  upon  him,  after  a 

long  pause,  he  rose  with  deep  emotion  : 

"Doubting,  I  tt  ^^  ^  &  y  strange  meeting  for  me.  I  came 
Stopped  Praying. 

in  to  bring  back  a  magazine  and  get  some  more  read 
ing,  not  knowing  that  you  had  a  meeting  here  to-night.  I  couldn't 
very  well  go  back  after  I  got  in,  and  so  I  have  kept  my  seat — and 
such  a  meeting  as  it  has  been  ;  such  memories  as  have  come  to  me ! 
I  have  been  living  over  my  life  at  home  while  these  comrades  have  been 
telling  their  stories, — and  my  soldier  life,— how  strange  and  wicked 
it  seems  to  me  to-night !  When  I  enlisted,  I  promised  myself  and 
mother  and  my  Sabbath-school  teacher  that  I  would  be  true  to 
my  Christian  profession.  When  we  went  into  camp,  I  found  but  one 
other  Christian  in*  all  my  company.  He  was  our  Lieutenant.  We 
soon  became  fast  friends,  talked,  prayed  and  read  the  Bible  together. 
But  in  the  fight  of  Antietam  and  the  pursuit  of  Lee,  somehow 
we  became  separated.  After  we  got  back  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rappahannock,  one  evening  at  dress  parade,  I  heard  the  Lieutenant 
swearing  fearfully.  I  spoke  right  out  to  him,  without  remembering 
that  he  was  an  officer  and  I  a  private : 

"  'Why,  Lieutenant,  is  that  you  ?' 

"  Then  he  swore  at  me  to  '  hush  my  impudence  and  keep  my  place.' 
His  oath  and  angry  look  stunned  me.  It  seemed  as  if  it  could  not  be 
that  that  Christian  man  was  swearing,  and  I  began  to  doubt  whether 
I  or  anybody  else  was  a  Christian,  and  in  my  doubting  I  stopped 
praying.  Then  my  doubts  grew  thick  and  strong,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  I  too  began  to  swear,  and  if  you  come  over  to 
the  regiment  you  will  find  no  man  who  can  curse  harder  than  I. 
But  I  have  done  with  it  now7.  Brothers,  God  helping  me,  I  begin 
a  Christian  life  again  to-night. 

"  This  is  my  story.  All  of  my  comrades  have  asked  for  prayers. 
There  is  not  one  who  needs  them  as  much  as  I.  I  know  you  will 
pray  for  me." 

We  saw  him  frequently  after  this,  before  the  army  moved.  He 
always  seemed  to  be  holding  on  to  the  true  way. 

Visiting  through  the  wards  of  the  desolate  hospital  at  Windmill 
Point,  I  came  upon  a  man,  who,  without  claiming  to  be  a  Christian 


WIXDMILL    POIXT    HOSPITAL.  133 

professed  great  admiration  for  the  Christian  religion,  declaring  him 
self  a  patron  of  Christianity,  —  a  fit  representative  of 

no  small  class  of  such  patrons.    He  spoke  in  glowing        The  Wifis  Let~ 
n,     ,       T-,.,  ,  <i  •        n  i        ter  in  the  Unread 

terms  of  the  Bible,  —  what  a  source  of  intellectual 


enjoyment  it  was  to  him.  He  referred  to  its  poetry 
with  special  enthusiasm.  His  wife,  he  said,  was  an  earnest  Christian 
woman.  I  asked  him  if  he  would  like  me  to  read  him  a  little  from 
the  Bible.  He  assented  gladly,  and  saying  that  he  always  liked  to 
read  best  from  the  copy  which  was  his  wife's  farewell  gift,  he  asked 
me  to  get  it  from  his  knapsack.  Opening  the  book  before  him,  I 
found  a  letter  addressed  to  himself.  He  started  when  he  saw  the 
handwriting. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  in  some  confusion,  "  that's  from  my  wife." 

He  asked  me  to  read  it  for  him.  It  ivas  the  parting  letter  of  his 
wife,  given  him  ten  months  before,  and  this  was  its  first  discovery  and 
reading  by  this  patron  of  his  wife's  piety,  who  had  left  thus  her 
loving  words  to  lie  so  securely  between  the  leaves  of  the  unread 
Bible. 

I  found  at  the  same  hospital  a  Massachusetts  soldier,  once  a  Sab 
bath  scholar,  who  was  in  the  last  stages  of  disease.  He  held  in  his 
pale,  thin  fingers  a  letter,  written  apparently  by  an  aged  and  trem 
bling  hand.  I  read  the  address,  —  "  My  dear  Son."  /J; 

It  looked  worn,  as  if  it  had  been  read  many  times. 
Evidently  he  had  just  been  over  it  again,  and  as  he  lay  back  on  his 
knapsack  pillow  there  was  something  inexpressibly  solemn  and  sad 
in  his  countenance  ;  added  to  this,  the  death  shadow  was  evidently 
stealing  upon  him.  I  passed  my  hand  softly  over  his  forehead,  part 
ing  back  the  hair  from  as  noble  a  brow  as  I  have  ever  seen.  He 
looked  at  me  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears,  —  a  rare  occurrence  when 
life  is  just  ebbing.  It  was  a  stranger's  hand,  but  laid  on  his  head  in 
kindness  ;  perhaps  it  reminded  him  of  a  mother's  gentle  stroke. 

I  said  in  a  low  voice,  after  other  conversation  — 

"  You  are  almost  through  with  this  world." 

"  Am  I  ?"  said  he. 

"  Yes,  and  I  hope  you  are  ready  for  the  next." 

"  No,  I  am  not,  —  not  ready,  not  ready  !" 

"  Well,  my  dear  friend,  Jesus  is  all  ready,  and  waiting  right  here. 
Come  now.  Shall  I  pray  ?" 


134  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Oh  no,  no  ;  it  is  too  lute,  too  late !     I  ought  to  have  come  long 


And  then  he  told  me,  as  calmly  as  he  could,  of  the  time  when  he 
was  "  almost  a  Christian,"  and  decided  to  let  it  pass  till  another 
winter. 

"That  was  the  time,— I  might  have  come  then;  why  didn't  I? 
why  didn't  I?"  and  pulling  the  blanket  over  his  face,  he  sobbed 
aloud. 

I  tried  to  show  him  Jesus,  waiting  now  to  save  him  ;  but  he  cried 
out — 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  any  more— it's  too  late  ;  I  can't  bear  it !"  and 
he  motioned  me  away. 

The  next  morning,  bed  No.  8  was  empty,  and  in  the  military  mail- 
bag  was  a  letter,  full  of  sorrow,  on  its  way  to  a  Christian  home  in 
Massachusetts.  The  old  father  was  expecting  an  answer  to  his  last 
letter.  This  was  it.  Oh,  how  that  voice,  between  those  sobs  from 
under  that  soldier's  blanket,  falls  upon  my  ears  and  rings  through 
my  soul  to  this  day ! 

'"Too  late,— too  late!  Why  didn't  I?  why  didn't  I?" 

As  I  lifted  the  blanket  from  his  face  and  took  for  that  father  the 
last  look  of  the  manly  form  on  the  stretcher,  laid  out  for  burial,  I 
said  to  myself — 

"  I  will  tell  all  my  young  friends,  it  is  not  enough  to  belong  to  the 
Sunday-school;  you  must  belong  to  Jesus." 

The  following  story  of  the  way  by  which  a  soldier 
came  to  Jesus,  is  from  the  same  pen,  and  connects  itself 
with  the  narrative  of  this  winter  on  the  Rappahannock : 

A  recruiting  officer  in  a  country  town  in  Massachusetts  in  1861, 

learned  that  a  young  man,  a  farmer's  son,  was  ready  to  enlist.     He 

was  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  of  frank,  open-hearted  and  generous 

mind,  but,  under  the  teaching  and  example  of  his 

Preparing  t<       fatherj  prof.me  and  wicked.      None  in  the  village 

school  which  he  attended  could  equal  him  in  cursing. 

He  had  no  taste  for  a  soldier's  life,  but  his  sense  of  duty  led  him  to 

say  that  some  one  in  his  father's  family  should  go  to  war,  and  he 

being  the  only  one  who  could   go,  must  go.      However,  when   the 


IN    A    NEW    ENGLAND    VILLAGE.  135 

recruiting  officer  came  to  the  door,  he  told  him  he  was  not  ready  to 
enlist  yet, — to  come  again  in  a  few  days.  The  officer  came  several 
times  and  was  put  off,  much  to  his  annoyance  and  to  the  astonish 
ment  of  the  friends  of  the  young  man,  whose  apparent  vacillation 
was  entirely  opposed  to  all  their  former  estimate  of  his  downright, 
straightforward  character. 

But  his  conduct  had  its  explanation.  The  boy  had  a  praying  sis 
ter  ;  from  whom,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  waywardness,  he  had  been 
receiving  unconscious  impressions  concerning  a  better  life.  He  after 
wards  confessed,  in  giving  his  religious  experience,  that  he  felt  that 
lie  could  not  enlist  until  he  became  a  Christian, — on  the  ground  that 
he  was  not  ready  to  die,  and  he  would  not  put  himself  into  peril 
from  which  he  was  sure  to  run,  until  he  was  ready.  In  his  own 
words,  "  I  am  not  a  cowTard,  but  I  can't  go  to  hell,  and  so  I  know  I 
should  run  in  battle."  From  this  low  idea  of  a  Christian  life  he 
started. 

Not  liking  to  borrow  his  sister's  Bible,  he  walked  four  miles  to  a 
neighboring  town  after  night,  and  purchased  one  for  himself.  He 
began  to  read  with  this  purpose  only, — to  get  ready  to  enlist  by  get 
ting  ready  to  die. 

"  I  began  to  read  the  Bible,"  said  he,  "  as  I  would  any  other  book, 
at  the  beginning.  It  was  a  very  interesting  story  about  the  Creation 
and  Abraham  and  Moses  and  the  rest ;  but  somehow  it  didn't  help 
me  to  get  ready  to  enlist.  I  came  in  due  time  in  my  reading  to 
the  20th  chapter  of  Exodus.  I  thought,  '  Now  I  have  it  sure.  I've 
got  to  keep  these  Commandments,  then  I  can  go  to  war.'  I  gave  two 
days  to  learn  them  perfectly  ;  then  came  the  keeping  of  them. 
There  was  only  one  of  the  ten  of  whose  violation  I  was  very  con 
scious.  I  knew  what  it  was  to  take  God's  name  in  vain, — that  was 

the  sin  which  I  was  to  overcome.     But  the  more  I 

,    .    -,     i  T  T  "Sin  Known  by 

tried,  the  more  I  swore.     I  never  swrore  so  hard  in       ,    T      „ 

the  Law." 

my  life  as  in  that  week  in  which  I  was  trying  to  keep 
the  third  Commandment.  I  tried  and  tried  again.  Every  morning 
I  said  to  myself,  '  I  will  not  swear  to-day,'  but  I  never  got  to  break 
fast  without  it.  My  great  trouble  was  a  vicious,  brindled  cow,  who 
always  kicked  when  she  was  milked,  and  put  her  foot  into  the  pail, — 
and  then  I  kicked  and  cust  her,  and  somehow,  I  had  to  do  it. 

"  It  was  getting  serious.     I  had  told  the   officer  that   I  would 


136  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

be  ready  for  him  the  next  week  without  fail, — and  I  could  not  fool 
with  him  any  more.  Then  I  thought,  '  I  will  enlist  now,  and  the 
first  night  in  camp  I  will  begin  a  Christian  life,  and  pray  before  my 
comrades.'  This  decision  reached,  I  was  feeling  quite  assured ;  and 
if  the  officer  had  come  that  day  I  should  have  enlisted.  Then  it 
occurred  to  me  that  I  had  better  try  the  praying  business  in  some 
body's  presence  before  going  into  camp.  My  father's  hired  man  used 

to  go  through  my  room  to  enter  his  own.      In  the 
Learning    to 
pra  evening,  just  as  1  had  dropped  upon  my  knees  to  try 

praying,  the  Irishman  opened  the  door.  I  jumped 
up  ashamed,  as  if  I  had  been  caught  stealing.  Then  I  thought  to 
myself,  '  Scared  out  of  your  senses  by  an  Irishman !  a  pretty  mess 
you'd  make  praying  in  camp  !'  So  my  troubles  were  only  increased  ; 
I  was  swearing  every  day ;  the  recruiting  officer  was  coming, — some 
thing  must  be  done;  I  must  pray  somehow,  Irishman  or  no  Irishman. 
I  rose  in  the  night  and  knelt  by  my  bedside ;  perspiration  started 
from  my  hands  and  face ;  I  clutched  the  bed-clothes  and  could  only 
articulate,  '  Lord,  help — help.'  As  I  lay  down  that  night  there  was 
a  strange  feeling  of  relief,  as  if  something  had  really  been  done.  In 
the  morning  I  felt  strong  for  my  struggle  with  '  Old  Brindle.'  Get 
ting  up  early,  I  prayed  again,  asking  God  to  help  me  milk  that  cow 
without  swearing.  When  I  sat  down  my  pail,  I  put  both  lips  between 
my  teeth  and  said  to  myself,  '  Now,  old  feller,  if  you've  any  cussin' 
to  do,  you've  got  to  do  it  all  inside.'  The  cow  kicked  the  pail  as 
usual,  but  I  didn't  swear  that  morning;  and  the  next  morning  it  was 
not  so  hard,  and  lately  '  Old  Brindle'  has  grown  quite  gentle. 

"  From  that  time  I  learned  to  tell  God  all  my  troubles,  and  to  ask 
for  help.  I  began  to  find  out  that  there  were  a  good  many  things 
besides  swearing  for  me  to  learn  not  to  do.  When  the  officer  next 
came  I  put  down  my  name.  Now  I  am  ready  to  face  anything — 
rebels,  or  death  ;  I  know  I  shall  never  run." 

This  was  the  story  of  a  soul  struggling  into  light,  told  to  his  pastor 
in  what  was  probably  the  first  serious  religious  conversation  he  ever 
held  with  any  one.  Afterwards,  when  he  came  to  unite  with  the 

church,  and  told  his  experience  before  the  committee, 
The   Forgive-        ,  .  , 

,  0.    '  the  pastor  said — 

ness  oj  om*. 

"  You  have  given  us  a  very  remarkable  experi 
ence,  but  I  have  noticed  that  in  it  all,  you  have  not  once  mentioned 


ON    THE    KAPPA  HANCOCK.  137 

the  name  of  Jesus.     You  say  you  hope  your  sins  are  forgiven, — how 
do  you  know  God  can  forgive  sins  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  was  his  answer,  "but  I  have  heard  if  a  fellow 
wants  to  do  right,  and  is  sorry  he  has  done  wrong,  and  tells  God  so, 
God  will  forgive  him  anyhow.  I  believe  God  has  forgiven  me; 
but  I  don't  know  how  He  did  it." 

"  But,  haven't  you  heard  about  Jesus  ?" 

"Yes,  I've  heard  of  Him  ;  but  to  tell  you  the  truth  I  haven't  got 
to  Him  yet  in  my  Bible.  I've  only  got  as  far  as  the  Psalms.  I  was 
thinking  the  other  day  I  must  begin  at  the  other  end,  and  read  a 
little  about  Jesus." 

He  united  with  the  church,  and  the  next  day  went  into  camp. 

His  regiment  joined  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and   spent   the 
winter  of  1862-3  on  the  Rappahannock.     It  was  there  visited  by  the 
pastor  of  the  church  in  which  the  young  man  had  enrolled  himself 
before  leaving  home.     On   entering  the  camp,  and 
inquiring  for  the  soldier,  a  comrade  said,  "  He  means       ~, 
the  happy  boy."     "  He  is  looking  for  the  whistling 
Christian,"  said  another. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  pastor,  "  he  is  all  that." 

And  so  he  was  found  to  be,  in  his  little  shelter-tent,  on  fatigue 
duty,  on  drill,  in  daily  camp-life,  singing,  whistling,  praying, — 
Christian  and  happy  through  it  all. 

After  Chancellorsville,  in  the  Summer  of  1863,  while  his  regiment 
was  following  up  Lee  through  Maryland,  weakened  by  chronic  ill 
ness,  he  fell  behind,  but  would  not  go  to  the  hospital,  though  so 
ordered  by  the  Surgeon.  Every  day  he  made  his  march,  living  on  the 

rations  which  the  army  scattered  in  its  path,  drag- 

i  .  i     .       ,.       i  .          i         ,  The  March  to 

gmg  his  musket  alter  him  when  he  was  too  weak  to       ~ 

Gettysburg. 

carry  it,  and  inquiring  eagerly  of  every  one  he  met 
how  soon  there  would  be  a  fight.  As  the  prospect  of  a  battle  grew 
imminent  his  strength  seemed  to  revive,  and  pressing  forward  he 
actually  overtook  his  comrades  and  fell  into  line,  as  they  were  coming 
into  position  at  Gettysburg.  That  day  he  fought  bravely  enough  and 
long  enough  to  claim  a  hero's  share  in  the  great  victory,  but  before 
the  evening  came  a  minie  ball  struck  his  right  leg.  He  was  treated 
with  amputation  and  re-amputation,  and  suffered  long  in  hospital, 
lingering  close  down  at  death's  door.  From  thence  he  wrote  to  his 


138  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

mother  that  he  was  never  happier  in  his  life, — and  to  his  father,  who 
had  steadily  opposed  his  going  to  war,  "  I  am  not  sorry  for  any 
thing,  unless  it  is  for  the  poor  sneaks  who  stay  at  home  and  wait  for 
the  '  draft.'  " 

He  survived,  and  is  making  an  honest  living  on  his  wooden  leg, — 
a  most  consistent,  devoted  Christian.  When  asked  one  day  how  he 
was  cured  of  the  bad  habit  of  swearing,  he  replied — 

"  By  the  grace  of  God,  and  the  help  of  '  Old  Brindle.'  " 

Mr.  John  A.  Cole,1  who  had  already  served  as  Dele 
gate  for  nearly  six  months,  was  early  in  the  year 
appointed  General  Field  Agent  of  the  district  compris 
ing  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  the  hospitals  and 
camps  of  Washington,  Maryland  and  Western  Virginia. 
A  work  of  organization  was  at  once  vigorously  under 
taken.  Its  first  fruit  was  the  plan,  successfully  carried 
out.  of  supplying;  every  regiment  in  the  army  with 

1   1       t/  O  «/  O  i/ 

Testaments.  Delegates  and  stores  in  greater  abundance 
were  asked  for  and  received,  and  until  May  3d,  six 
stations  were  kept  in  successful  operation.  Very  inter 
esting  were  some  of  the  scenes  of  Testament  and  Bible 
distribution.  Eev.  E.  P.  Smith  writes : 

I  found  one  regiment  in  which  there  were  thirty  Germans  in  a 
single  company,  who  had  left  their  homes  without  the  Word  of  God, 
and  who  had  become  hungry  for  it.  A  squad  of  these  men  promised 

the  Chaplain  that  they  would  give  him  their  cards 
Cards  and  Tes-  .  „   ,  *  -,      •  m 

tamentg  anc*  play  no  more,  11   he  would  give  them   lesta- 

ments. 

In  another  company  of  this  regiment,  a  single  English  Testament 
had  circulated  among  thirty  soldiers,  in  five  different  tents,  during 

the  entire  winter,  and  it  had  seldom  lain  an  hour  bij 
One  Testament        77-7,  7 

,    mi .  .    T.T          davLiqlit  unused, 
for  Thirty  Men.  y    J 

How  often  on  inquiring — 


1  Of  Medway,  Mass. 


AKMY    OF    POTOMAC    STATIONS  139 

"  Would  you  like  a  Testament?"  the  answer  comes  — 
"  Yes,  I  would,  very  much.     I  lost  mine  at  Antietam,  at  South 
Mountain,  or  at  Fredericksburg." 

Our  prayer  meetings  are  full  and  solemn.     This 


is  a  serious  time  with  these  armed  hosts.  They  know 
from  the  antecedents  of  "  Fighting  Joe,"  that  there  is  sharp  work 
before  them;  and  these  warm  days  and  Spring  voices  are  perpetual 
reminders  of  coming  battle,  wounds  and  death.  They  feel  that  some 
thing  must  be  done  to  get  ready  for  these  realities,  and  therefore  they 
long  for  the  Bible. 

A  Lieutenant  related  to  the  Chaplain  of  the  1st  Conn. 
Cavalry  an  incident  which  illustrates  —  what  these  pages 
so  often  evidence  —  the  potency  of  appeals  from  home 
upon  the  soldier's  heart  : 

A  young  man  in  the  regiment  openly  embraced  religion,  to  the 
surprise  of  all  his  comrades.  One  day  he  happened  in  my  tent,  and 
I  asked  howr  his  mind  was  awakened  so  suddenly.  He  took  out  of 
his  pocket  a  letter  from  his  mother  : 

"  There  is  something  in  that  letter  which  affected       -r 
me  as  nothing  ever  did  before." 

The  letter  said,  —  "  We  have  sent  you  a  box  of  nice  clothes,  some 
fine  cakes  and  fruits,  and  other  luxuries  and  comforts  ;  and  many 
good  times  we  hope  you  will  have,  enjoying  them  and  sharing  with 
your  friends." 

Near  the  letter's  close  were  these  words  — 

"  We  are  all  praying  for  you,  Charlie,  that  you  may  be  a  Christian." 

"  That's  the  sentence,"  said  the  grateful  boy,  the  tears  gushing  from 
his  eyes  ;  "  When  I  was  eating  the  dainties,  I  thought,  '  Mother 
is  praying  for  me.  I  know  where  she  goes  to  pray,  and  I  can 
almost  hear  the  words  she  says.'  All  the  time  I  was  wearing  the 
clothes  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  words,  —  '  We  are  all  praying 
for  you,  Charlie,  that  you  may  be  a  Christian.'  How  I  thank  God 
for  such  a  mother  !  Her  prayer  is  answered  and  I  am  happy." 

A  work  of  revival  began  at  several  of  the  stations  of 
the  Commission.  Earnest  prayer  meetings,  in  which  the 


140  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

soldiers  took  the  most  prominent  part,  were  a  main  fea 
ture  of  this,  as  of  every  succeeding  manifestation  of  the 
Spirit's  power.  Rev.  Wm.  Barrows,1  in  a  letter  to  the 
Boston  Recorder,  gives  a  graphic  account  of  one  of  these 
soldiers'  meetings : 

A  Sibley  tent,  warmed  by  an  army  cooking-stove,  lighted  by  three 
candles  and  furnished  with  a  long  mess-table,  was  the  "  upper-room." 
One  real  chair  and  several  real  boxes,  chests,  etc.  furnished  seats  for 
twenty  or  more  of  the  soldiers. 

A  stranger  minister,  fresh  from  home,  had  the  meet- 
Prayer  Meeting. 

ing  in  charge.  When  a  hymn  was  called  for,  some 
one  began  the  service  with  no  ado  about  agreeing  on  the  tune  and 
"  pitching  "  it,  by  striking  up  the  words — 

"  Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee." 

Then  the  minister  prayed,  and  before  he  could  turn  to  his  Scripture 
lesson  for  the  morning,  they  started  off  with — 

"  My  days  are  gliding  swiftly  by," 

singing  two  stanzas.  Then  was  read  the  account  of  the  blind  beggar 
Bartimeus,  and  how  Jesus  healed  him,  and  how  he  followed  the 
Master  afterwards.  A  few  words  were  spoken,  showing  how  poor  our 
estate  is  by  nature,  sitting  by  the  wayside  of  life,  and  how  blind  we 
are  to  our  own  good  and  God's  glory,  till  we  call  on  Jesus.  Then 
somebody  began  to  sing — 

"  I  love  to  steal  a  while  away," 

and  almost  all  joined,  singing  but  one  verse.  This  was  followed  by  a 
prayer,  short  and  fervent.  Then  came  an  exhortation  from  a  weather 
worn  soldier  of  the  cross  and  the  government. 

"  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul," 

next  filled  the  tent  and  died  away  on  the  hill-side  and  among  the 
pines  in  which  the  regiment  has  so  charming  a  location. 


Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Reading,  Mass. 


A    STATION    PRAYER    MEETING.  141 

Here  one  rose  simply  to  testify,  as  he  said,  that  he  loved  Jesus. 
He  did  not  use  five  sentences,  but  it  was  all  testimony.  Then  came 
a  prayer  for  loved  ones  at  home,  the  family,  the  church,  the  Sabbath- 
school,  and  prayer  meeting ;  and  so  still  were  all,  that  you  would 
have  supposed  the  praying  man  to  have  been  alone  in  the  tent.  His 
voice  trembled  somewhat,  and  if  we  wiped  away  a  tear  or  two  when 
he  said  amen,  we  were  not  ashamed  to  be  seen  doing  it,  for  some 
others  did  so.  Our  thoughts  went  home  also ;  how  could  we  help 
the  tear  ? 

And  then,  as  if  some  of  them  in  the  chances  of  battle  might  miss 
the  earthly  home,  a  verse  was  sung,  beginning — 

"  Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood." 

Next  came  a  practical  talk  about  following  Christ  in  the  army. 
The  good  ideas  were  briefly,  bluntly  put,  and  full  of  the  love  of  the 
Lord  Jesus.  Then  a  single  stanza  went  swelling  out  among  the  pines 
again — 

"  Come  ye  that  love  the  Lord." 

An  exhortation  was  now  addressed  to  any  who  had  not  enlisted 
under  the  Captain  of  our  salvation,  and  it  was  pressed  home  by  the 
sweet  words  and  familiar  air — 

"  O  happy  day  that  fixed  my  choice  !" 

Now  one  kneels  down  on  the  clay  floor  and  prays  in  the  first  person 
singular.  It  was  a  short,  broken  prayer,  probably  by  the  brother 
who,  they  said,  had  lately  learned  to  pray,  and  in  that  tent.  We  have 
all  heard  such  prayers,  and  none  ever  affect  us  so  much.  An  exhorta 
tion  followed,  by  a  sailor  on  the  difficulties  of  being  a  Christian 
in  the  army.  He  showed  how  they  tried  to  do  that  at  sea,  and  illus 
trated  it  by  an  incident. 

Then  came  the  hymn — 

"Thus  far  the  Lord  hath  led  me  on." 

The  minister  here  remarked  that  if  we  would  follow  Christ  success 
fully,  we  must  keep  in  the  ranks,  and  own  to  everybody  at  proper 
times  that  Christ  is  our  Captain.  Following  Him  by  side  marches 
and  obscure  paths  exposes  us  to  the  lurking  enemy. 


142  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 


the  hour  was  almost  gone,  and  so  followed  the  doxology— 
"  Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow." 

and  the  benediction. 

We  thought  it  worth  a  trip  to  the  Army  of  'the  Potomac  to  learn 
from  the  soldiers  how  to  have  a  good  prayer  meeting.  No  one  was 
called  on  to  pray  or  speak  and  no  hymn  was  given  out  ;  no  one  said 
he  had  nothing  to  say,  and  then  talked  long  enough  to  prove  it;  not  one 
excused  his  inability  to  "  edify." 

The  work  of  distributing  the  Scriptures  to  the  army 
was  the  one  which,  more  than  any  other,  introduced  the 
Commission  to  all  the  men.  It  was  so  extensive  and 
thorough,  and  came  at  such  a  time,  as  to  command  at 
tention,  inquiry  and  boundless  gratitude.  Kev.  E.  F. 
Williams1  gives  the  following  account  of  this  work,  on 
Sabbath,  April  12th,  at  Fairfax  Court  House,  where 
three  brigades  of  cavalry  and  several  artillery  companies 

O  tl  J  1 

were  stationed  : 

Before  morning  service,  of  which  due  notice  had  been  given  by 
written  "  posters"  stuck  up  at  the  village  street-corners  and  in  the 
different  camps,  we  walk  out  to  the  grounds  of  the  jail  kept  by  Jack 

son,  brother  of  the  murderer  of  Ellsworth,  now  used 
Testament  Dis-       „  rn 

tribution  a  Suar(i'-house.       Iwo  or  three  Rebels,  accused 

of  having  been  guerrillas,  ask  for  reading.  It  is 
granted  : 

"  Will  you  give  us  a  Testament  ?" 

One  is  put  into  their  hands,  a  few  words  in  regard  to  the  necessity 
of  trust  in  Christ  are  spoken,  and  we  pass  on.  Outside  of  the  jail 
we  meet  a  man  who  does  not  care  for  our  papers,  but  who  would  like 
a  Testament.  His  has  been  wet,  —  the  leaves  are  coming  out,  the 

7  & 

cover  is  worthless.  He  will  surely  read  it.  Another  lost  his  at  Bull 
Run;  another  would  not  have  lost  his  for  a  hundred  dollars,  —  but  it 
went  with  his  knapsack  on  one  of  his  raids.  It  was  his  mother's 


1  Then  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Whitlnsville,  Mass. 


AKMY    TESTAMENT    DISTRIBUTION.  143 

parting  gift, — one  of  ours  takes  its  place,  though  it  will  not  fill  it. 
Another  had  given  his  Bible  to  his  sister,  expecting  to  die  in  the 
army,  and  is  glad  to  get  a  Testament,  which  he  will  read.  In  this  way 
two  dozen  copies  are  distributed  to  the  few  men  around  the  guard 
house  and  the  Post  Commissary's  quarters.  All  these  men  will 
attend  church.  They  want  to  know  when  they  can  talk  with  the 
Delegates  about  home. 

At  one  of  the  regimental  hospitals  visited,  there  is  a  man  so  sick 
with  inflammation  of  the  bowels  that  we  do  not  venture  to  speak  to 
him.  After  talking,  and  giving  something  to  each  patient,  we  turn 

to  leave.     As  we  go,  this  sickest  man  of  all  motions 

,  .  m  .  The    Unread 

to  his  attendant  to  get  a  lestament  tor  him.     Ihis      Testament 

done,  a  sign  of  assent  given  to  the  question  if  he  has 
hope  in  Christ,  he  becomes  quiet  again.     In  this  state,  with  the  Tes 
tament  under  his  pillow,  he  remains  till  the  third  or  fourth  day, 
when  his  spirit  takes  its  flight  home. 

Another  scene  at  Fairfax  Station,  on  April  30th, 
after  the  arrival  of  a  large  box  of  Testaments,  Mr. 
Williams  thus  describes : 

On  inquiry  we  learn  that  three  or  four  regiments  of  Pennsylvania 
troops  have  not  had  their  share  of  attention.  We  load  up  with  read 
ing-matter,  and  get  to  the  top  of  a  hill,  where  the  men  are  policing 

and  burnino-  brush.     They  run  to  meet  us  : 

Eager  for  God's 
"  What  have  you  to  sell  ?"  Wor^  J 

"  Nothing, — nothing  but  Testaments." 

"  What  do  you  ask  for  them  ?" 

"  Only  that  you  read  them." 

"  Bully  for  you  !"  "  Give  me  one," — "  and  me  one," — "  and  me," 
— •"  and  me." 

A  ring  is  formed.  Hands  press  forward  for  the  book.  The  haver 
sack  is  emptied  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  read  this  account.  A 
second,  third,  fourth  load  goes  in  the  same  way.  The  men  had  been 
in  so  many  fights  that  scarce  one  of  them  had  a  Testament  or  any 
thing  they  had  brought  from  home.  The  regiment  contained  very 
many  Christians ;  the  privilege  of  obtaining  so  much  of  the  Scrip 
tures  as  a  Testament  was  eagerly  embraced. 


144  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  same  day  a  number  of  teamsters, — some  of  them  belonging  to 
regiments  stationed  at  Wolf  Run  Shoals  and  Union  Mills,  and  some 
to  the  5th  Mich.  Cavalry  at  Fairfax  Court  House, — seeing  the  Tes 
taments,  beeped  to  be  allowed  to  take  twenty  or  more 
The  Teamster  .  ;<  **  „  .      J 

T\-  f,.-L  apiece  to     the  boys.       It  was  a  new  thing  to  consti 

tute  a  dozen  swearing  teamsters  "  Bible  distributors," 
but  it  was  done ;  and  their  part  of  the  work  was  faithfully  executed. 
In  some  of  the  companies,  a  religious  interest  was  the  result. 

Rev.  John.  O.  Barrows,1  spent  a  few  days  of  his  term 
of  service  with  the  18th  Maine  Regiment,  in  camp  a 
little  above  the  old  village  of  Falmouth.  He  writes  of 
a  visit  to  a  Rhode  Island  Battery  near  by : 

I  had  noticed  these  artillerymen,  as  they  galloped  their  horses  each 

day,  past  my  tent  door  to  the  brook  below.     So,  one  afternoon,  filling 

my  haversack,  I  paid  them  a  visit.     I  found  them  ready  to  tell  me 

much  of  hard  fighting,  deep  mud,  long  marches  and 

lonely  days,  but  none  could  tell  me  of  Jesus'  love. 
for  You.  J  J  ' 

This  was  very  unusual ;  never  before  had  I  turned 
away  from  a  company  of  men  with  so  sad  a  heart.  Suddenly  some 
one  called  after  me.  It  was  a  young  soldier,  and  his  first  words, 
as  he  came  up  a  little  out  of  breath,  were — 

"  Do  you  belong  to  the  Christian  Commission  ?" 

Almost  before  I  could  answer,  he  went  on — 

"  I  saw  some  of  your  men  at  Stoneman's  the  other  day,  and  I  got 
a  book  of  them." 

That  was  all  the  introduction ;  with  trustful  simplicity,  he  began 
to  open  to  me  the  story  of  his  heart : 

"  I  was  as  hard  as  any  of  them  when  I  came  out,  but  I  had  a  pray 
ing  mother.  It  most  broke  her  heart  when  I  left  home,  for  she  knew 
I  was  wild  and  reckless.  But  she  kept  praying  for  me.  Every  letter 
she  sent  me,  whatever  else  was  said,  she  always  told  me  that.  But  I 
didn't  trouble  myself  much  about  it,  till,  one  day,  a  letter  came  to  me 
when  we  were  at  Poolesville.  It  wasn't  very  long,  but  it  took  a  long  time 
to  read  it,  for  mother  was  dead.  I  could  see  her  after  that ;  see  the 


Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Northampton,  N.  II. 


FALMOUTH.  145 

tears  on  her  cheeks,  and  hear  her  say  the  old  words,  over  and  over 
again — '  I'm  praying  for  you.'  All  through  the  Peninsula,  it  was  still 
the  same ;  she  was  right  before  my  eyes  continually.  But  I  didn't  give 
in  till  it  came  to  Fair  Oaks.  I  had  worked  hard  all  day  at  our  gun  ; 
and  when  the  firing  stopped,  I  sat  down  on  a  log  by  the  road,  alone. 
They  were  taking  away  the  dead  and  wounded  near  me.  I  thought  how  I 
had  been  preserved ;  and  then  the  question  came, '  What  has  God  spared 
me  for  ?'  and  then  another,  '  Had  my  mother's  prayers  anything  to  do 
with  it  ?'  They  were  solemn  questions,  Chaplain.  Across  the  road 
there  was  sitting  the  only  Christian  in  our  battery.  He  saw  I  was 
thinking  seriously ;  so  he  came  over  and  asked  me  what  it  was. 
I  told  him.  He  was  quiet  for  a  little,  then  he  asked  me  to  go  with 
him  to  a  still  place  and  pray.  I  went  with  him,  and,  on  my  knees, 
gave  my  heart  to  Jesus ;  you  don't  know  how  I  love  Him,  Chaplain. 
My  friend  has  been  with  me  ever  since ;  he's  been  a  great  comfort 
when  the  boys  laughed ;  and  ridicule  isn't  much  anyways,  if  I  can 
keep  remembering  how  my  mother's  prayers  saved  me." 

He  led  me  to  the  friend  who  had  prayed  with  him  at  Fair  Oaks. 
Their  hearts  seemed  knit  together,  like  the  heart  of  one  man.  But  it 
was  indeed  "  rivers  in  a  dry  place,  and  to  a  thirsty  land  streams 
of  water,"  to  find  another  to  whom  they  could  tell  a  little  of 
their  Christian  fellowship.  Tears  came  into  their  eyes  and  mine,  as 
they  told  me  how  it  seemed  as  if  I  must  have  come  to  the  army 
especially  to  meet  them,  and  to  hear  their  story. 

Somehow,  as  I  went  back  to  my  tent,  my  sorrow  and  sighing  had 
fled  away. 

Rev.  Franklin  Tuxbury,1  writing  in  April,  narrates 
another  soldier's  history,  given  at  the  close  of  a  meeting 
in  Washington : 

A  Lieutenant-Colonel  came  to  me  with  his  story.  He  had  a  Christian 

mother  and  a  praying  wife ;  though  he  himself  had 

1  i  •  i    ,,  i      i  ,,      -TT-  Unconscious 

been,  as  he  said,  "  a  verv  bad  man."     His  narrow 

Influence. 
escapes  in  battle  had  awakened  him.     While  going 

into  the  thickest  of  the  fight  at  Antietam,  he  had  been  appalled  by 


1  Congregational  Minister,  residing  in  Exeter,  N.  H. 
10 


146  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

the  thought  of  death  without  Christ.  He  had  resolved  to  seek  and 
find  Him ;  but,  the  hour  of  danger  past,  his  impressions  had 
vanished.  At  Fredericksburg,  in  greater  danger  than  ever,  his 
feelings  of  conviction  returned.  This  time  they  were  deepened  by 
noticing  the  peculiar  firmness  and  steadiness  of  several  Christian 
men  under  fire.  Especially  was  he  struck  by  the  noble  courage  of  a 
Corporal,  who,  after  several  standard-bearers  had  been  shot  down, 
in  turn  seized  the  flag-staff,  and  as  he  bravely  bore  it  to  immediate 
death,  calmly  said  to  a  comrade — 

"  If  I  fall,  tell  my  dear  wife  that  I  die  with  a  good  hope  in  Christ, 
and  that  I  am  glad  to  give  my  life  for  the  country." 

"  I  cannot  forget  that,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  and  I  want  to  become  a 
Christian,  for  I  know  there  is  a  reality  in  religion." 

Near  Washington  at  this  time,  a  work  of  grace  was 
going  on  at  Camp  Convalescent.  The  scenes  at  some  of 
the  meetings  were  thrilling  with  the  emphasis  of  pathos, 
conviction,  repentance  and  gratitude.  No  pen  can  ever 
adequately  tell  their  story.  Rev.  Geo.  J.  Mingins1 
details  an  account  given  by  a  soldier  at  one  of  the 
gatherings : 

One  evening  those  who  had  seen  the  Commission's  work  and  had 
been  benefited  by  it,  were  invited  to  rise  and  say  so.     One  after 
another  delivered  his  testimony  in  the  straightforward,  manly,  can 
did  style,  so  much  a  trait  of  the  soldier.     The  first 
"Heaven  Down  .  , 

m,      .„  man  who  got  up,  said — 

my  Throat. 

"  I  hear  say,  Chaplain,  that  you  are  going  East  to 
Massachusetts.  Well,  tell  them  there  that  a  Yankee  of  the  Yankees, 
who  never  prayed  at  home,  has  learned  to  ask  God  morning  and 
night  to  *  bless  the  Christian  Commission  !'  " 

He  sat  down.  The  next  that  stood  up  was  a  young  man,  with  his 
hand  in  a  sling  and  his  face  pale  from  long-continued  illness  from  a 
wound.  He  was  touched  deeply  and  could  hardly  speak.  At  last  ho 
said — 


1  See  p.  18. 


CAMP    CONVALESCENT.  147 

"  Chaplain,  you  will  know  what  I  think  of  the  Christian  Commis- 
-ion  when  I  tell  you  my  simple  story.  I  love  it,  and  there  is  a, 
dear  old  mother  out  in  the  West  who  loves  it,  and  I  know  she  prays 
night  and  morning  for  God  to  bless  it,  because  it  saved  her  boy's  life. 
After  I  was  wounded,  I  lay  all  night  on  the  battle-field.  I  shall 
never  forget  that  night.  Oh,  what  a  long,  terrible  night  it  was! 
The  stars  were  out  shining  brightly,  but  I  could  not  enjoy  them.  I 
was  dying  of  thirst.  Oh,  how  I  prayed  that  somebody  would  come 
near  me, — that  God  would  send  me  relief!  How  my  mind  went  home 
to  my  dear  old  mother !  O  Chaplain,  I  thought  it  was  hard  to  die 
when  I  knew  I  might  live  if  I  could  only  get  somebody  to  help  me. 
But  nobody  came  near  me.  I  prayed  that  God  would  shut  out  the 
stars  and  let  the  sun  come  once  more,  bringing  light  and  morning  and 
relief.  After  a  while  I  saw  a  light  glimmering  on  the  field.  I  won 
dered  what  it  could  be.  At  last  I  saw  the  shadow  of  a  man  carrying 
a  lantern  in  his  hand.  By  and  bye  I  saw  him  stoop  down,  then  get 
up,  move  along  a  little  and  stoop  down  in  another  place ;  and  I  knew 
he  was  lifting  wounded  men  up  and  giving  them  something  to  drink. 
Then  I  began  to  pray  with  all  my  might  that  he  would  come  near 
me  and  give  me  a  mouthful  of  water.  I  tried  to  cry  out,  but  could 
not;  my  tongue  stuck  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth.  The  man  came 
nearer  and  nearer.  At  one  time  I  thought  that  he  did  not  see  me, 
and  was  turning  off  another  way.  Oh,  how  my  heart  was  sickening! 
but  he  came  nearer,  and  I  threw  my  arm  about  so  that  he  heard 
and  came  to  me.  In  a  moment  more  he  was  kneeling  by  my  side  and 
pouring  what,  I  thought,  was  heaven,  down  my  throat!  It  was  cool 
lemonade.  The  very  moment  my  tongue  was  loosed,  I  exclaimed, 
'  God  bless  you  !  God  bless  you  !  Who  are  you,  sir?'  He  lifted  my 
head,  and  on  the  lappel  of  his  coat,  flashing  in  the  light  of  the  lan 
tern,  I  saw  the  badge  of  the  Christian  Commission.  And  I  could  not 
help  it,  but  cried  out,  '  Hurrah,  boys !  the  Christian  Commission  has 
come  !  We  are  all  right  now !'  '  Thank  God  !  thank  God  !'  the  men 
answered  back.  Ah,  Chaplain,  the  Christian  Commission  saved  my 
life  that  time,  and  it  has  saved  many  and  many  a  life."  And  he  sat 
down  amid  a  tearful  audience. 

Rev.  Mr.  Mingins  began  a  series  of  services  in  June, 
at  the  camp  chapel.    About  three  hundred  men  attended 


148  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

the  first  of  these,  and  about  five  hundred  the  second. 
On  a  third  evening  the  chapel  was  crowded.  It  could 
not  be  used  afterwards,  because  entirely  too  small.  The 
meetings  were  held  outside, — the  nightly  attendance 
reaching  two  thousand  and  upwards : 

One  evening,  after  a  hard  day's  work,  preaching  and  talking  pri 
vately  to  the  men,  I  retired  at  a  late  hour.  Some  one  came  to  the 
tent  door,  wanting  admittance.  I  asked  who  was  there.  A  voice 

replied — 

The  Lord  Ris-  „  ^  ^          ^^  Chaplain  ?" 

ing  up  to  Judge. 

I  did  as  requested,  and  three  men  stood  before  me. 

One  of  them,  a  young  soldier,  spoke  up  and  said— 

"Chaplain,  it's  a  shame  to  come  at  this  time  of  night,  but  I 
couldn't  help  telling  you  how  happy  I  am  ;  O  Chaplain,  I've  found 
Jesus." 

I  invited  them  in.     The  young  man  spoke  again— 

"  To-night,  while  sitting  by  the  cook-house  door,  I  heard  your  voice 
as  you  were  speaking ;  I  said  to  a  comrade,  '  That  fellow  has  a  loud 
voice  ;  let's  go  and  hear  him,  and  have  some  fun  at  the  meeting.'  We 
came  to  the  meeting,  Chaplain,  to  make  fun.  The  first  words  I  heard 
you  say  were,  '  When  the  Lord  riseth  up,  what  will  you  do  ?  when 
God  visiteth,  what  will  you  answer?'  These  words  rang  in  my  heart. 
I  couldn't  make  any  fun  ;  I  was  thinking  all  the  time  of  God  and 
judgment,  and  what  I  should  do  to  answer  God  for  my  wickedness. 
When  the  meeting  was  over,  I  was  so  miserable  I  did  not  know  what 
to  do.  I  tried  to  go  to  the  tent ;  I  tried  to  come  and  see  you.  I  was 
afraid  to  do  either.  So  I  went  into  the  woods  and  began  to  pray. 
My  good  old  mother  long  ago  taught  me  what  I  must  do  to  be 
saved.  So  I  cried  like  the  Publican,  and  like  him  was  accepted. 
After  a  while  I  heard  other  men  praying  near  me,  and  found  these 
two.  Speak  to  them,  Chaplain  ;  they  want  Jesus." 

I  spoke  to  them  of  Jesus ;  and  before  I  left  the  camp  they  had 
found  Him  precious. 

Gen.  Hooker's  arrangements  for  crossing  the  Kappa- 
hannock  were  carried  out  successfully  in  the  close  of 


CHANCELLORSVILLE.  149 

April.  On  May  1st  began  the  disastrous  battle  of 
Chancellorsville,  ending,  on  the  evening  of  the  4th,  in 
the  hasty  retreat  of  our  left  wing  across  the  Rappahan- 
nock,  with  heavy  loss.  On  May  6th  the  entire  army 
had  fallen  back  to  the  old  position.  Field  hospitals  for 
the  various  corps  were  at  once  established.  They  were 
immense  and  widely  scattered,  so  that  new  Commission 
stations  were  called  for.  These  were  located  at  Potomac 
Creek,  Howard  and  Brooks'  Stations.  A  relief  work  of 
great  extent  and  variety  was  immediately  begun. 

Rev.  W.  H.  Eaton1  gives  many  interesting  reminis 
cences  of  his  hospital  work  after  the  battle.  He  was 
especially  struck  with  the  unfaltering  courage  of  the 
men : 

About  fifteen  hundred  of  our  wounded  were  left  on  the  battle-field 
over  the  river.  For  twelve  days  or  more  they  had  little  or  no  atten 
tion.  Their  wounds  were  in  many  cases  dressed  but  once,  and  there 
was  no  shelter  from  the  rain  and  sun,  save  such  as 

the  scattered  trees  afforded.     When  brought  to  the       ^hancell°^^ 

Heroes. 
hospital  they  were  in  a  pitiable  condition.     Many 

died  very  soon  after.  Others  had  their  wounds  filled  with  loathsome 
worms. 

"  I  don't  expect  to  live,"  said  a  New  Hampshire  man,  who  was  in 
this  condition ;  "  all  I  ask  is  to  be  kept  clean  while  I  do  live." 

Rev.  John  M.  Durgan,  a  Free-will  Baptist  Minister,  who  was 
Lieutenant  of  Co.  B,  12th  N.  H.  Kegt.,  was  severely  wounded  just 
below  the  heart.  On  the  twelfth  day  after,  he  was  brought  over 
with  the  rest.  It  was  feared  that  he  would  not  live  to  reach  the  hos 
pital.  But  when  they  proposed  to  take  him  from  the  ambulance  on 
a  stretcher,  the  brave  man  utterly  refused  all  assistance,  and  getting 
out  alone  walked  into  the  ward  to  his  bed.  He  is  still  alive,  and 
able  to  preach  the  gospel. 

Another,  who  had  lost  both  legs  by  amputation,  I  saw  the  next 


Pastor  of  First  Baptist  Church,  Nashua,  N.  H. 


150  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

day  nonchalantly  leaning  upon  one  arm,  perusing  the  Philadelphia 
Inquirer.     Another  had  been  very  severely  wounded,  but  had  suc 
ceeded  after  his  fall  in  crawling  in  under  some  trees. 
The    Blessed       TT.  ,  , 

g    ,  His  was  a  golden  testimony — 

"  Those  twelve  days  were  among  the  happiest  of 
my  life.  I  had  my  Testament  with  me.  All  the  strength  I  had  was 
devoted  to  prayer  and  the  reading  of  the  Blessed  Book.  Oh,  never 
before  did  the  Saviour  seem  so  precious,  or  His  Word  so  sweet.  I 
would  not  part  with  this  little  book,  which  was  my  light  and  joy  in 
those  days  of  darkness  and  loneliness,  for  any  earthly  consideration." 
Major  Whittlesey,  of  Gen.  Howard's  staff,  told  us  of  a  Chaplain 
who  had  been  very  attentive  to  a  wounded  soldier  for  several  days, 
trying  if  possible  to  save  his  limb.  It  was  decided  that  the  leg  must 
be  taken  off.  The  soldier  was  anxious  that  his  Chaplain  should  be 
present  during  the  operation,  but  he  felt  as  if  he  could  not  bear  the 
sight.  So,  when  the  suffering  man  was  put  upon  a  stretcher  and 
borne  to  the  amputating-table,  the  Chaplain  remained  behind.  How 
was  he  surprised  and  electrified,  as  he  waited  sadly  for  the  result,  to 
hear  the  voice  of  his  friend  sounding  forth  from  the  room  of  pain, 
singing  those  precious  lines ! — 

"  How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds 
The  Sweetest  In  a  believer's  ear  ! 

Name.  It  soothes  his  sorrows,  heals  his  wounds, 

And  drives  awav  his  fear."1 


1  Kev.  I.  0.  Sloan  relates  an  incident  very  similar  to  this  which  occurred  in 
his  Delegate's  experience  at  one  of  the  hospitals  after  Antietam.  A  young  Mas 
sachusetts  soldier,  Charles  Warren,  had  been  led  by  unremitting  care  and  faithful 
admonition  to  give  himself  up  to  Jesus.  His  leg,  it  was  found,  must  be  am 
putated  to  save  his  life.  Mr.  Sloan,  unwilling  to  witness  the  scene,  turned  away 
as  they  carried  the  soldier  to  the  operating-table.  He  had  not  walked  far, 
before  he  heard  Warren's  cheerful  voice,  singing — 

"  There'll  be  no  more  sorrow  there ; 
In  heaven  above,  where  all  is  love, 
There'll  be  no  more  sorrow  there." 

He  turned  back  and  found  the  soldier  drowsy  from  the  chloroform  administered. 
Thus  he  remained,  for  the  operation  proved  useless,  until  he  passed  away. 


CHANCELLOESVILLE.  151 

i 

Rev.  E.  F.  Williams  tells  the  story  of  the  death  of 
Capt.  Isaac  R.  Bronson,1  shot  in  the  shoulder  on  the  3d, 
and  who  lingered  until  the  20th  : 

Death  had  no  terrors  for  him,  but  there  was  a  struggle  which  only 
u  parent's  heart  can  know,  when  he  said — 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  only  get  inside  the  old  homestead  and  look  on  the 

i'aces  of  my  little  ones  and  my  parents  and  George 

,  T       .     T    ,       n  ,  i  .  „    ,  „  Death  Swattowed 

and  Lottie,  1  should  be  satisfied.  .    ^T.  . 

up  in  Victory. 

I  replied,  "  We  shall  come  pretty  soon." 

He  answered  with  a  smile  as  he  pointed  upward,  "Yes,  only  a  little 
further  on." 

Shortly  before  he  breathed  his  last,  he  said,  "  Sing  me  one  of  the 
songs  of  Zion." 

His  wife  who  had  come,  asked,  "  What  shall  we  sing  ?  '  Rock  of 
Ages?'" 

"  Yes,  '  Rock  of  Ages.' " 

That,  and  "  Come  sing  to  me  of  heaven,"  were  sung. 

Bending  over  him  as  he  lay  with  closed  eyes,  as  if  for  a  moment 
asleep,  my  ear  caught  the  word  "  Glory,"  quickly  followed  by  the 
expression  in  a  loud,  distinct  voice — 

"  Death  is  nothing  to  the  glory  beyond." 

I  asked,  "Is  death  swallowed  up  in  victory  ?"  The  answered  words 
came  back  from  the  threshold  of  the  heavenly  door — 

"  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory." 

The  incident  which  follows,  related  by  the  chairman 
of  the  Commission,  is  a  strange  sequence  of  events  lead 
ing  a  soldier  to  Jesus  : 

After  the  battle  Private  D ,  of  the  68th  Penna.  Regiment,  a  type 
setter  from  Philadelphia,  was  detailed  for  service  with  the  Ambu 
lance  Corps.     Passing  over  the  bloody  field  covered  with  all  the  val 
uable  wreck  of  battle,  he  saw  a  little  torn  book  lying 
on  the  ground.     Picking  it  up  unthinkingly,  he  put     jgojj. 
it  into  his  pocket,  and  soon  forgot  that  he  had  it. 

1  Of  Co.  I,  14th  Conn.  Eegt. 


152  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Soon  after,  as  lie  was  removing  a  wounded  soldier  to  die  stretcher  on 
which  he  was  to  be  carried  to  the  hospital,  the  man  exclaimed — 

"  Don't  move  me  ;  I'm  dying.  My  name  is  Jesse  Stevens,  of  the 
1st  Mass.  Regiment.  I  want  you  to  pray  for  me." 

Private  D did  not  know  how  to  pray,  but  it  suddenly  occurred 

to  him  to  look  at  the  little  book  he  had  picked  up ;  to  his  astonish 
ment  he  found  on  the  outside  page  a  prayer,  entitled  "After  sudden 
visitation."  He  at  once  knelt  down,  and  read  in  the  ear  of  the  dying- 
man  the  words  of  the  petition  : 

"  O  most  gracious  Father,  we  fly  unto  Thee  for  mercy  in  behalf 
of  this  Thy  servant,  here  lying  under  the  sudden  visitation  of  Thy 
hand.  If  it  be  Thy  will,  preserve  his  life,  that  there  may  be  place 
for  repentance:  but,  if  Thou  hast  otherwise  appointed,  let  Thy  mercy 
supply  to  him  the  want  of  the  usual  opportunity  for  the  trimming 
of  his  lamp.  Stir  up  in  him  such  sorrow  for  sin  and  such  fervent 
love  to  Thee,  as  may  in  a  short  time  do  the  work  of  many  days ;  that 
among  the  praises  which  Thy  Saints  and  Holy  Angels  shall  sing 
to  the  honor  of  Thy  mercy  through  eternal  ages,  it  may  be  to  Thy 
unspeakable  glory  that  Thou  hast  redeemed  the  soul  of  this  Thy 
servant  from  eternal  death,  and  made  him  partaker  of  the  everlast 
ing  life,  which  is  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen."1 

During  the  prayer  the  Confederates  had  been  posting  themselves 

in  the  immediate  neighborhood,  and  D was  made  a  prisoner. 

During  his  confinement  in  Libby,  the  words  of  the  dying  man  kept 
ringing  in  his  ear, — "  I  am  dying  ;  pray  for  me."  His  sins  came  up 
before  him,  but  he  found  no  peace.  Subsequently  arriving  at  Camp 
Distribution,  and  hearing  of  a  prayer  meeting,  he  resolved  to  attend 
it.  He  was  one  of  more  than  a  hundred  and  twenty,  who  that  even 
ing  rose  to  be  prayed  for.  His  anxiety  was  increased  after  hearing 
from  his  wife,  who  had  become  a  Christian  since  he  had  left  home, 
and  who,  in  all  her  letters,  was  urging  him  to  give  his  heart  to 
Christ.  He  was  not  long  in  following  her  advice  and  example.  Mr. 
Stuart  bore  the  message  of  the  soldier's  decision  to  his  happy  wife, 
and  still  keeps,  as  a  memento  of  solemn  interest,  the  tattered  leaves 
of  the  torn  Prayer  Book. 


1  Written  by  the  late  Et.  Eev.  Bishop  Potter  of  the  Diocese  of  Pennsylvania. 
Soldiers'  Prayer  Book,  p.  10. 


AFTER    CHANCELLORSVILLE.  153 

The  work  of  holding  prayer  meetings  among  the  men 
was  recommenced  as  soon  as  possible  after  the  battle. 
Eev.  W.  H.  Eaton  gives  a  graphic  account  of  meetings 
at  Potomac  Creek  Station  : 

Our  station  was  on  the  thoroughfare  between  the  hospitals  of  the 
3d  and  6th  Corps,  one  mile  from  Potomac  Creek.  We  had  three 
large  wall-tents,  put  up  in  such  order  as  to  make  but  one  spacious 

room.     On  one  side  we  kept  our  books,  papers  and 

i         .,    i  .    -,  Potomac  Creek 

hospital  stores  ;  the  other  was  occupied  as  a  parlor 


by  day,  a  chapel  in  the  evening,  and  a  sleeping  room 
at  night.  For  our  parlor  chairs  we  had  rows  of  planks,  five  deep, 
resting  on  empty  boxes.  These  answered  in  the  evening  for  chapel 
settees,  and  at  night  for  spring  beds.  A  small  tent  close  by  con 
tained  our  kitchen,  in  charge  of  Joseph  Jones,  of  the  84th  Penna. 
Vols.,  detailed  for  us  by  Col.  Bowman.  Joseph  was  an  earnest  Chris 
tian.  During  the  previous  winter  he  had  been  converted  at  one  of 
our  stations,  and  was  a  decidedly  happy  man  in  his  post  as  cook  to 
the  Christian  Commission. 

Our  prayer  meetings  began  at  early  candle-lighting,  although  some 
of  the  soldiers  used  to  come  in  a  half  hour  or  so  before  sunset  ;  some 
with  crutches   and  others   with    canes;   some  with  bandages    about 
their  heads  and  others  with  their  arms  slung,  —  all 
sore  and  lame  from  recent  wounds,  but  able  to  move 
about.    They  fill  up  our  chapel  to  the  number  of  one      j^t 
hundred  or  more.     At  twilight,  one  of  us  takes  half- 
a-dozen  candles  from  the  box.  and,  as  candlesticks  are  lacking,  we 
put  one  into  a  potato  prepared  for  the  purpose,  and  suspended  from 
the  roof  by  a  wire  ;  another  into  a  piece  of  board  ;  two  or  three  into 
small  boxes,  filled  so  as  to  keep  the  candles  upright.    Then  the  meet 
ing  begins. 

How  the  men  turn  back  to  their  homes  ! 

"  When  I  left  home,"  says  one,  "  my  father  took  me  by  the  hand 
and  told  me,  '  It  would  not  be  half  so  hard  to  part  with  you  if  I 
knew  you  were  a  Christian.'  I  made  up  my  mind  to  seek  Christ 
then,  and  I  think  I  have  found  Him." 

Another  said,  "  I  once  had  a  hope,  but  I  have  gone  astray.     The 


154  CHKISTIAF    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

dangers  of  war  did  not  awaken  me.  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of 
gambling  since  I  was  wounded.  To-day  I  got  a  letter  from  home 
with  the  sad  news  of  the  death  of  a  dear  sister,  who  was  baptized 
on  the  same  day  with  myself.  Ever  since  I  have  been  in  the  army, 
she  has  written  to  me  and  has  prayed  for  me,  that  I  might  not  injure 
Christ's  cause.  She  has  gone  to  heaven  now.  I  mean  to  forsake  my 
sins  and  to  lead  a  Christian  life.  Will  you  not  all  pray  for  me?" 

"  I  was  wounded  on  the  field,"  said  another.  "As  I  staggered  off 
to  the  rear,  the  bullets  kept  singing  past  me  and  burying  themselves 
in  the  ground  all  about.  I  expected  immediate  death.  When  I  got 
beyond  the  hill,"  nearly  out  of  danger,  I  fell  on  my  knees  and  gave 
thanks  to  God.  And  now  I  mean  to  be  His  for  ever." 

The  two  simply-told  incidents  which  follow,  occurring 
at  different  stations  at  about  the  same  time  in  the  month 
of  June,  show  alike  how  the  soldiers  were  met  and 
touched  by  little  kindnesses, — their  very  lives  sometimes 
turned  Christward  by  them.  The  first  is  related  by 
Rev.  Geo.  N.  Harden,1  a  Delegate  at  the  Acquia  Creek 
Station : 

A  vigorous-looking  soldier  came  in,  asking  whether  we  had  any 
little  bags  with  needles,  buttons,  &c. 

Said  he,  "  I  belong  to  Co.  B,  78th  N.  Y.,  and  lost  everything  in 

the  battle  of  Chancellorsville.     I  was   lying  down 
Near  me  all  that  .  „   ,    ,,  .'-.  ,,   , 

I)      U  I  D  when  a  piece  01  shell  struck  me  on  the  cartilage  of  the 

nose  ;  it's  all  healed  now,  but  'twas  a  close  hit.  I  was 
very  near  death  then,  but  I  thought  of  God  all  the  time,  and  prayed 
and  trusted  Him  as  never  before.  A  man  lying  three  feet  from  me 
was  killed  by  the  same  shell.  Oh,  I  hope  I  love  the  Lord.  I  try  to 
serve  Him.  He  seemed  near  me  all  that  dreadful  day." 

I  handed  him  a  comfort-bag,  saying  it  was  from  a  little  motherless 
boy  in  my  own  Sabbath-school 

"  And  could  you  let  me  have  one  for  McClusky,  my  tent-mate?" 

"  Oh  yes,  with  pleasure." 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Boxboro',  Mass. 


FALMOUTH.  155 

"  Well,  sir,  we'll  write  to  these  little  boys.  It's  about  all  we  can 
do  in  return  for  their  kindness." 

I  asked  whether  McClusky  was  a  Christian : 

"  He  is  leaning  that  way,  since  the  last  battle.  I  have  persuaded 
him  to  try  to  be  one.  He  and  I  go  a  little  way  from  camp  and  pray 
together.  One  of  the  little  books  may  help  him." 

I  gave  the  veteran  a  book  for  his  comrade,  entitled  "  Come  to 
Jemis"  with  papers  for  himself.  He  departed  after  bestowing  upon 
me  the  warmest,  solidest  clasp  of  the  hand  I  had  yet  received  in 
Virginia,  with  an  earnest  "  God  bless  you  !" 

The  second  story  is  from  the  pen  of  Rev.  Geo.  H. 
Morss,1  who  at  the  time  was  laboring  at  the  Division 
Hospital  of  the  2d  and  5th  Corps,  near  Falmouth  : 

We  were  visited  one  morning  by  an  old  soldier  from  Connecticut, 
who  was  acting  as  orderly  for  his  Colonel.  Our  breakfast  was  ready, 
and  we  invited  him  to  stay  and  eat  with  us.  Heat  first  objected 

because  he  had  not  been  much  accustomed  to  eat 

.  .        ,  „  ,        r  ,    .   .  .  ,  The  Soldier's 

with  others.     However,  he  did  join  us  at  last,  and       •„     „ 

seemed  to  enjoy  it  exceedingly.     He  said  he  had  not 

sat   down   to   eat  at   a  table  with  any  one  since  he  had  been  in 

the  service. 

"  I  have  three  sons,"  said  he,  "  in  the  army.  When  the  third  one 
enlisted,  I  felt  that  I  could  not  remain  alone,  but  must  come  myself. 
I  have  been  a  very  hard  man,  and  much  given  to  swearing," — indeed, 
we  had  to  reprove  him  mildly  for  it  once,  as  he  was  talking  about  it. 

He  seemed  touched  and  melted  by  our  kindness.  After  breakfast 
I  told  him  that  we  were  accustomed  to  have  our  devotions  then,  and 
asked  him  to  remain.  He  did  so.  After  reading  a  portion  of  Scrip 
ture,  we  sang  a  hymn.  I  then  offered  prayer,  commending  the 
soldier  and  his  sons  to  the  Lord.  He  came  to  me  afterwards, 
took  me  by  the  hand,  and  with  the  tear  glistening  in  his  eye,  said — 

"  You  are  the  first  man  that  ever  prayed  for  me  in  my  presence, 
and  I  thank  you  for  it.  I  am  determined  now  to  live  a  different  life. 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Abington,  Conn. 


156  CHKISTIAX    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Old    John    Perkins    shall    be    a,   better    John    from    this    time.      I 
will  never  swear  again." 

As  he  left  our  tent,  our  hearts  rejoiced  before  God  that  He 
had  made  use  of  our  simple  acts  of  kindness  to  reach  the  heart  of  the 
old  man. 

The  work  of  quieter  Christian  effort  was  soon  brought 
to  an  abrupt  close.  Lee,  strengthened  by  Long-street's 
Division,  called  from  the  siege  of  Suffolk  by  the  crisis  on 
the  Eappahannock,  early  in  June  concentrated  his  army 
at  Culpepper,  preparatory  to  another  invasion  of  Mary 
land.  His  troops  passed  rapidly  up  the  Shenandoah, 
scattering  Milroy's  army  before  them.  General  Swell's 
Corps  crossed  the  Potomac  at  Williamsport  on  June  16th, 
only  three  days  after  Hooker  had  started  from  his  lines 
in  front  of  Fredericksburg.  It  soon  became  evident  that 
the  enemy  did  not  intend  to  assail  Washington,  but  was 
entering  Pennsylvania,  Hooker  crossed  the  Potomac  on 
June  26th.  On  the  28th  he  was  relieved,  and  Gen. 
George  G.  Meade  placed  in  command. 

When  Hooker's  movement  began,  the  Commission 
stores  were  safely  removed  to  Washington  from  the  old 
stations.  Messengers  found  the  army  at  Fairfax  Court 
House,  where  a  station  was  already  in  operation.  It  did 
not  long  remain,  but  a  vigorous  work  was  entered  on, 
both  there  and  at  Fairfax  Station,  especially  among  the 
cavalry  wounded  in  the  skirmishes  and  battles,  so  fre 
quent  at  this  juncture.  Field  Agent  E.  F.  Williams 
narrates  an  incident  of  this  crisis,  peculiarly  character 
istic  of  an  American  army  : 

In  the  midst  of  our  work,  two  soldiers  of  Co.  I,  2d  Pennsylvania 
Cavalry,  came  into  our  room  in  the  old  church  at  Fairfax  C.  H.,  with 
a  library  of  a  hundred  volumes  on  their  shoulders,  which,  neatly 


BEFORE    GETTYSBURG.  157 

packed  in  a  box,  they  have  carried  eighteen  months. 
The  boys  have  read  it  again  and  again,  yet  it  is  still  in       ^  Front        ° 
good  order.     Hardly  a  book  has  been  lost.     They 
cannot  bear  to  throw  it  away ;  but  they  have  no  means  of  transport 
ing  it  now.     It  was  given  them  while  on  their  way  to  the  front,  by 
ladies  in  Philadelphia. 

''  Will  the  Christian  Commission  take  it  and  get  it  to  Washington  ? 
After  the  present  movement  is  over,  perhaps  some  regiment  can  be 
found  which  would  like  the  library.  There  is  not  much  use  in  thinking 
we  shall  see  it  again.  It  is  the  destiny  of  the  cavalry  this  Summer  to 
be  pretty  busy.  Better  give  the  books  to  a  regiment  of  infantry." 

"'  And  here  is  my  singing  book,"  adds  one  of  the  soldiers  ;  "  I  have 
carried  it  ever  since  I  came  into  the  service.  I  must  give  it  up  now. 
Will  you  take  it,  and  give  it  to  somebody  to  whom  it  will  do  some 
good  ?  I  can't  throw  it  away." 

We  receive  the  gift,  mark  the  box,  assure  the  soldiers  that  we 
will  get  the  books  to  Washington,  and  if  possible  return  them  in 
more  favorable  times. 

Mr.  Williams  adds  other  interesting  reminiscences  of 
this  movement.  We  have  only  room  for  the  following, 
which  occurred  at  Fairfax  C.  H. : 

On  June  23d,  two  hundred  men,  who  have  been  driven  in  ambu 
lances  over  the  roughest  of  roads  from  the  skirmish-field  all  along  the 
Blue  Ridge,  pass  our  doors  for  the  railroad  station.  They  have  four 
miles  of  terrible  "  corduroy  "  before  them,  and  have 
had  no  food  nor  drink  since  they  were  wounded.  f  ti  w  nd  d 
They  cannot  stop  now  for  us  to  prepare  them  any 
thing.  A  Commission  Agent  rides  rapidly  to  the  station,  has  fires 
kindled,  coffee  prepared,  and  bread  cut  in  slices,  buttered  and  spread 
with  jelly,  water  brought,  tin  cups  and  sponges  made  ready,  and  the 
Delegates  prepared  to  give  aid  and  comfort  to  the  men  as  they  are 
taken  from  the  ambulances  and  placed  upon  the  cars  for  Washing 
ton.  The  work  continues  all  the  afternoon  and  far  into  the  night,  for 
the  train  is  delayed.  Rebel  prisoners  are  not  overlooked. 

"Is  this  for  me?"  said  one  of  their  Colonels,  to  whom  a  cup  of 
coffee  was  handed. 


158  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Yes,  sir.     Will  you  please  drink  it  ?" 

"  Well,  this  beats  me.    We  don't  treat  our  prisoners 
Coals  of  Fire  „ 

on  the  Head. 

11  We  make  no  distinctions,"  is  our  only  answer. 

The  Colonel  drinks  his  coffee  and  eats  his  bread  in  silence,  but  with 
tears  in  his  eyes  and  wonder  in  his  heart. 

One  man  who  had  been  a  disbeliever  in  the  Sanitary  and  Christian 
Commissions,  considering  them  as  humbugs,  began  to  change  his 
mind  somewhat.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  how  the  logic  of  events 

graduallv  conquered  him,  until  at  last  he  said,  with 
The  Gospel  of    ' 

tears 

Bread  and  Coffee. 

"  That's  what  I  call  the  gospel.     God  bless  you  ! 
I  mean  to  tell  them  at  home  to  do  all  they  can  for  you." 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES. 

GETTYSBU  RG. 
July   1863. 

THE  great  battle  began  on  the  first  day  of  July,  Ewell 
and  Hill's  Corps  of  the  Confederate  Army  forcing  back 
our  1st  and  llth  Corps.  The  greater  part  of  the  second 
day  was  consumed  by  each  side  waiting  for  its  absent 
divisions.  The  evening's  fighting  was  to  the  advantage 
of  the  enemy,  though  it  welded  our  line  together  for  the 
struggle  of  the  next  day.  The  story  of  Bound  Top, 
the  Peach  Orchard,  and  Cemetery  and  Gulp's  Hills  is 
too  well  known  to  need  repetition.  The  sun  of  July  3d 
went  down  upon  a  decisive  Union  victory.  Gen.  Lee 
began  his  retreat  on  the  following  day.  Gen.  French 
captured  and  destroyed  the  bridge  over  the  Potomac  at 
Williamsport.  It  was  some  time  before  the  enemy  could 
rebuild  it,  but  on  the  13th  this  was  accomplished,  and 
in  the  night  the  swollen  river  was  safely  crossed. 

Before  the  battle  closed,  the  Delegates  of  the  Com 
mission  were  on  the  ground.  At  once  began  the  most 
successful  and  extensive  work  which  had  yet  been 
attempted, — a  work  rich  in  incidents  of  sacrifice,  devo 
tion  and  Christian  ministration.  A  supply  station  was 
established  in  the  village.  Thither  stores  were  pushed 


160  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

forward  from  the  Commission  offices  and  from  the  whole 
surrounding  country.  Over  three  hundred  Delegates, 
of  all  ranks  and  occupations,  were  sent  as  the  almoners 
of  the  gathered  bounty.  Before  they  had  concluded 
their  work,  stores  to  the  value  of  $80,000  had  been 
distributed.  Too  much  cannot  be  said  of  the  kindness 
of  the  people  of  Gettysburg  to  the  Delegates,  whose 
accommodations  at  first  were  very  limited.  Nor  was  it 
confined  to  them ;  until  the  hospitals  were  withdrawn 
from  the  neighborhood,  the  residents  wrere  untiring  in 
their  efforts  to  alleviate  the  wants  of  the  wrounded  and 
dying. 

Mr.  Enoch  K.  Miller,  a  private  of  Co.  F,  108th  N.  Y. 
Vols.,  who  afterwards  became  a  Chaplain  in  the  army,1 
relates,  in  a  letter  addressed  to  Rev.  R.  J.  Parvin,2 
how  his  life  was  saved  at  this  battle.  We  make  extracts 
from  the  letter,  and  this  single  relation  must  stand  for 
the  many  others  left  untold  : 

"It  was  dark  when  they  laid  me  under  a  tree,  surrounded  by  hun 
dreds  of  my  comrades  who  were  wounded  and  dying,  and  as  my 
Chaplain,  Kev.  Thomas  Grassie,  bent  over  me  and  asked  where  my 

trust  was  placed,  the  Psalmist's  words  came  involim- 
A  Saved  Life, 

tarily  to  my  lips  :  '  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  Thou  art  with 
me,  Thy  rod  and  Thy  staff  they  comfort  me.'  A  minie  ball  had 
pierced  my  breast,  passing  through  my  left  lung  and  coming  out  a 
little  under  my  shoulder  blade.  The  Surgeon  of  our  regiment.made 
an  examination  of  my  wound,  but  as  I  supposed  that  at  that  time 
the  ball  was  in  me,  he  only  looked  at  my  breast.  He  gave  me  a 
sleeping  powder,  and  throwing  his  rubber  blanket  over  me,  left  me 
as  he  supposed,  to  die.  During  the  next  three  or  four  days,  without 
a  pillow  or  sufficient  covering,  my  clothes  saturated  with  my  own 


Of  25th  U.  S.  C.  T.  2  See  p.  44. 


BELIEF    WORK.    *  161 

blood,  with  no  proper  food,  attended  by  a  faithful  comrade,  Sergeant 
John  O'Connell,  I  lay  scarcely  daring  to  hope  for  life. 

"About  noon  one  day  I  saw  in  the  distance  the  silver  badge  of  the 
Christian  Commission,  and  sending  my  comrade,  I  soon  had  its  Del 
egate  by  my  side.  In  that  Delegate  I  recognized  Brother  Stillson.1 
He  was  an  old  friend,  and  we  had  been  co-laborers  in  the  Sunday- 
school  work  before  the  war  commenced.  He  knew  me  in  an  instant, 
and  without  waiting  to  waste  words,  supplied  me  with  a  feather  pil 
low, — the  first  I  had  had  in  a  year, — a  quilt,  a  draught  of  wine,  some 
nice  soft  crackers  and  a  cup  of  warm  tea.  After  offering  up  an 
earnest  prayer  by  my  side,  he  hastened  away  to  secure  some  clean 
clothes.  He  then  removed  my  filthy  garments,  and  in  doing  that  it 
wjis  found  that  the  ball  had  passed  through  me. 

"After  all  this  had  been  done,  I  felt  as  though  I  was  at  home ;  for, 
my  dear  sir,  the  Delegate  of  the  Commission  acts  the  part  of  a  ten 
der,  loving  mother,  a  willing  father,  an  affectionate  sister,  a  sympa 
thizing  brother  and  a  beloved  pastor. 

"  I  lay  on  the  field  until  July  15th,  and  received  everything  that 
could  enhance  my  comfort  in  such  a  situation.  The  greatest  share 
came  from  the  Christian  Commission.  For  a  few  days  I  was  cared 
for  by  a  Surgeon  connected  with  your  society.  Without  these  com 
forts  and  necessaries  I  must  have  died,  but  as  your  agents  were  on 
the  ground  to  care  personally  for  just  such  cases  as  mine,  and  as  a 
great  Providence  ordered  it,  I  survived." 

The  soldier's  words  of  gratitude  to  the  Commission,  and  to  Rev. 
Mr.  Parvin,  who  had  written  the  orders  for  the  stores  which  relieved 
him,  need  not  be  added. 

Mr.  Demond2  relates  two  stories  of  relief  work  per 
formed  by  Mr.  John  C.  Chamberlain,3  illustrative  of  the 
spirit  animating  the  Delegates,  and  of  the  good  which 
even  a  very  slight  service  could  effect : 

He  heard  just  at  nightfall  of  a  hospital,  some  miles  away,  tnat 


1  J.  B.  Stillson,  Esq.,  of  Rochester,  N.  Y. 

*  In  his  address  at  the  last  Anniversary  of  the  Commission. 
3  Student  of  Bangor  (Me.)  Theological  Seminary,  and  brother  of  the  gallant 
Gen.  Chamberlain. 
11 


162  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

had  not  been  visited.     Though  wearied  with  the  labors  of  the  day, 
he  went  to  it  at  once  on  foot.   He  found  the  Surgeon  in  charge  sick,  the 

assistant  overwhelmed  with  the  care  of  some  two 
P  ,.  ,  hundred  wounded,  and  no  stores  or  comforts.  He 

told  the  Doctor  that  there  was  a  station  of  the  Sani 
tary  Commission  within  a  mile,  and  asked  why  he  had  not  got  stores. 
The  Doctor  said  he  did  not  know  how  to  get  them.  Mr.  Chamber 
lain  wrote  an  order  on  the  Sanitary  Commission,  the  Doctor  signed 
it,  and  the  Delegate  went  to  the  station  and  found  that  the  Sanitary 
Commission  had  gone  away.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  It  was  late ; 
he  was  very  weary  ;  it  was  nearly  five  miles  to  Gettysburg,  where 
the  station  of  the  Christian  Commission  was,  the  road  was  hard,  and 
the  streams  all  high  and  swollen.  But  the  men  were  suffering,  and 
there  was  no  one  but  him  to  help.  He  took  the  long  and  lonely 
walk,  and  very  early  the  next  morning  the  wagon  of  the  Christian 
Commission  was  at  that  hospital,  laden  with  stores  and  comforts  for 
the  heroic  sufferers. 

The  same  Delegate  came  one  day  upon  an  out-of-doors  hospital, 
where  the  men  were  lying  in  the  July  sun,  with  no  shelter.  After 
looking  a  moment,  he  took  a  stone  and  stick,  and  arranged  the  blanket 

of  a  soldier  so  as  to  shield  his  face.     Others  caught 

Sun-shades. 

the  idea,  and  soon  every  one  in  the  hospital  was  shel 
tered  from  the  burning  and  torturing  blaze  of  the  sun. 

Rev.  Geo.  Bringhurst1  tells  a  little  incident  of  one  of 
these  slight  services : 

One  very  dark  night  I  met  a  soldier  whose  arms  had  both  been 
shot  away.  He  was  getting  to  his  tent,  and  I  asked  what  I  could  do 
for  him. 

"  Oh,  nothing,  Chaplain,"  said  he,  cheerfully  ;  "  un- 
,.  ,,    ™      ^          less  you  would  tie  my  shoes  for  me.    They  have  been 

bothering  me  a  good  deal." 

I  thought,  as  I  stooped  down,  of  the  latchet  which  the  Forerunner 
was  not  worthy  to  loose,  and  the  little  deed  became  a  joy. 


See  p.  24. 


KELIEF    WORK.  163 

Eev.  E.  F.  Williams1  tells  a  story  of  faith  and  its 
result : 

Our  store-keeper,  an  Englishman,  earnest,  hard-working,  patriotic, 
and  a  Christian,  was  asked  one  day,  when  our  supply  of  provisions 
was  getting  very  low,  to  cut  the  slices  of  bread  which  he  gave  the 
boys  a  little  thinner. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  he,  "  I  can't, — the  poor  fellows  are         Faith 
so  hungry." 

"  But  our  bread  will  soon  be  gone." 

"  Well,  I  have  faith  that  the  Lord  will  send  us  more  before  we 
are  quite  out." 

He  was  allowed  to  take  his  own  course,  though  advised  to  be  as 
sparing  as  possible.  The  day  wore  away,  and  still  the  crowd  of 
hungry  soldiers  pressed  around  our  doors.  The  last  loaf  was  taken 
from  the  shelf.  A  hundred  Delegates  were  yet  to  have  their  supper. 
But  there  were  no  crackers,  no  meat,  no  bread  for  them,  or  for  the 
still  unfed  soldiers,  who,  weary  with  wounds  and  a  long,  limping 
march  from  the  field  hospital,  lingered  at  our  rooms  for  a  morsel  of 
food,  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  word  of  direction  about  the  trains  for 
Baltimore  and  Philadelphia. 

Just  at  the  last  moment,  when  our  faith  was  almost  exhausted,  an 
immense  load  of  provisions  stopped  before  our  quarters,  and  the 
drivers  asked  for  the  agents  of  the  Commission  : 

"  We  have  brought  bread,  lint,  bandages,  jellies  and  wines ; 
we  don't  know  just  who  are  most  needy,  but  we  have  confidence 
in  you.  Will  you  distribute  these  things  for  us  ?" 

The  stores  had  come  a  hundred  and  three  miles.  Two  ministers, 
German  Reformed  and  Lutheran,  were  with  them.  Our  thanks  can 
better  be  imagined  than  told.  Never  again  did  we  chide  the  store 
keeper's  faith,  who  knew  that  the  Lord  would  send  just  what  we 
wanted.  Nor  did  our  stock  of  provisions  ever  again  give  out  while 
we  remained  at  Gettysburg. 

An  incident  of  noble  Christian  fortitude  and  heroism 


1  See  p.  142. 


164  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

is  related  of  Chaplain  Eastman,  son  of  Kev.  Dr.  East 
man,  Secretary  of  the  American  Tract  Society:1 

His  horse  plunging  during  the  battle,  struck  him  on  the  knee-pan. 
His  leg  swelled  and  stiffened  until  the  pain  became  almost  unen 
durable.  When  he  could  no  longer  stand,  he  gave  his  horse  to  a 
servant  and  laid  himself  down  on  the  ground.  He 
Chaplain  ^ac^  ^°  ta^e  a  woun(led  soldier's  place  alone  that 

night.  As  he  lay  suffering  and  thinking,  he  heard  a 
voice;  "O  my  God!"  He  thought,  Can  anybody  be  swearing  in  such 
a  place  as  this?  He  listened  again,  and  a  prayer  began ;  it  was  from  a 
wounded  soldier.  How  can  I  get  at  him?  was  his  first  impulse.  He 
tried  to  draw  up  his  stiffened  limb,  but  he  could  not  rise.  He  put 
his  arm  round  a  sapling,  drew  up  his  well  foot,  and  tried  to  extend 
the  other  without  bending,  that  he  might  walk  ;  but  he  fell  back  in 
the  effort,  jarred  through  as  if  he  had  been  stabbed.  He  then 
thought,  I  can  roll.  And  over  and  over  he  rolled  in  pain  and  blood, 
and  by  dead  bodies,  until  he  fell  against  the  dying  man,  and  there 
he  preached  Christ  and  prayed.  At  length  one  of  the  line  officers 
came  up  and  said — 

"  Where's  the  Chaplain  ?     One  of  the  staff"  officers  is  dying.'' 

"  Here  he  is,  here  he  is,"  cried  out  the  sufferer. 

"  Can  you  come  and  see  a  dying  officer  ?" 

"  I  cannot  move.  I  had  to  roll  myself  to  this  dying  man  to  talk 
to  him." 

"  If  I  detail  two  men  to  carry  you,  can  you  go  ?" 

"Yes." 

They  took  him  gently  up  and  carried  him.  And  that  live-long 
night  the  two  men  bore  him  over  the  field,  and  laid  him  down  beside 
bleeding,  dying  men,  while  he  preached  Christ  and  prayed.  Lying 
thus  on  his  back,  the  wounded  Chaplain  could  not  even  see  his  audi 
ence,  but  must  look  always  heavenward  into  the  eyes  of  the  peaceful 
stars, — emblems  of  God's  love,  which  even  that  day  of  blood  had  not 
soiled  nor  made  dim. 

Mr.  J.  B.  Stillson    gives  a  detailed  account  of  the 


i  Told  by  Rev.  Jos.  T.  Duryea,  D.D.,  Pastor  of  Collegiate  Reformed  (Dutch) 
Church,  New  York. 


A    GETTYSBURG   HERO.  165 

adventures  and  escapes  of  John  Burns,  of  Gettysburg, 
who  acted  as  a  volunteer  soldier  through  part  of  the 
battle  : 

He  was  within  two  months  of  his  seventieth  year  when  he  offered 
himself,  dressed  in  the  Continental  coat,  vest  and  corduroys  which  he 
had  worn  in  the  war  of  1812,  to  Gen.  Wister,  who  commanded  what 

was  known  as  the  "Iron  Brigade."   Approaching  that 

Old    John 
officer,  he  said— 


"  General,  I  fought  for  my  country  in  1812,  and  I 
want  to  fight  for  it  again  to-day." 

The  officer  looked  at  him  keenly  from  head  to  foot,  and  seeing  he 
was  in  earnest,  extended  his  hand  : 

"  God  bless  the  old  soldier;  he  shall  have  a  chance." 

Joining  the  7th  Wisconsin,  he  performed  a  brave  man's  duty  until 
the  close  of  the  first  day's  battle,  when,  after  being  four  times  hit, 
he  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands.  His  escape  with  life  had  been  truly 
marvellous.  The  first  ball  struck  his  side,  and  was  turned  away  from 
his  body  by  the  intervention  of  a  pair  of  old-fashioned  spectacles  in 
his  vest  pocket.  The  second  struck  a  truss  worn  for  an  abdominal 
injury,  and  glanced  off,  cutting  away  the  flesh  from  his  thigh  about 
two  inches  below  the  top  of  the  hip-bone.  The  third  ball  passed 
through  his  leg,  between  the  large  and  small  bones,  without  injuring 
either  them  or  the  arteries.  The  fourth  went  through  the  fleshy  part 
of  the  left  arm  below  the  elbow,  also  without  breaking  bones  or  rup 
turing  arteries. 

He  lay  on  the  field  during  the  night,  and  was  removed  next  morn 
ing,  through  a  neighbor's  kindness,  to  his  own  house  in  the  town.  A 
Rebel  officer,  accompanied  by  a  soldier,  visited  him  there,  and  ques 
tioned  him  closely  about  the  part  he  had  taken  in  the  fight,  but 
Burns  made  no  replies.  The  window  of  the  room  looked  out  towards 
a  house  at  some  distance,  occupied  by  Rebel  sharpshooters  ;  the  old 
man's  bed  was  within  range,  and  shortly  after  the  officer  and  soldier 
left,  a  ball  from  the  house  entered  his  window,  and  grazing  his  breast 
buried  itself  in  the  partition  wall.  Only  a  moment  before,  the 
wounded  man,  weary  of  lying  on  his  side,  had  turned  upon  his  bed. 
In  the  former  position  the  minie  ball  would  have  passed  directly 
through  him. 


166  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  most  precious  reward  to  the  Delegate  was  the 
privilege  of  turning  a  wandering  soul  to  Jesus.  It  was 
God's  will  that  this  result  should  be  often  reached  in  the 
Gettysburg  hospitals.  Rev.  Mr.  Parvin  narrates  one 
such  incident  among  others  : 

I  found  on  the  field  a  Michigan  soldier  named  David  Laird,  and 
visited  him  regularly  while  I  was  at  Gettysburg.  One  day,  after 
writing  home  at  his  request,  he  told  me  of  his  early  training,  of  his 

wandering;  from   it,  of  his  long-ins:  to  return.     We 
David  Laird. 

prayed,  read  and  talked  together,  until  at  last  the 
Spirit  took  possession  of  his  heart.  At  first  he  was  very  much 
troubled  because  his  wound — a  serious  one  received  while  the  regi 
ment  was  falling  back  under  orders — was  in  the  back.  I  reassured 
him,  and  explained  all  the  circumstances  to  his  parents  in  my  letter. 
I  received  answers  from  each  of  them,  thanking  me  for  my  little 
ministries.  But  the  mother's  letter  to  her  boy  was  perfect  tender 
ness  and  love : 

"  DAVID,  MY  DARLING  BOY  : — What  can  I  say  to  you,  my  son ! 
my  son?  Oh,  that  I  could  see  you!  that  I  could  minister  to  you!  I 
think  father  will  probably  be  with  you  soon.  My  dear  one,  you 
have  done  what  you  could  to  suppress  this  cruel  rebellion.  May  God 
comfort  you !  You  are  still  serving  the  country  so  dear  to  your 
heart.  You  have  been  for  thirty  months  an  active  volunteer ;  now 
you  are  a  suffering  one.  Still  there  is  an  army  in  which  you  may 
enlist, — the  army  of  the  Lord.  All — all  are  welcome  there.  You 
will  find  kind  friends  who  will  keep  us  advised ;  and  please  request 
them  to  give  us  all  the  particulars  of  your  situation.  God  comfort 
and  sustain  you,  dear  one,  is  your  mother's  prayer !" 

His  father  wrote  about  the  wound  : 

"As  to  David's  wound  in  his  back,  it  need  give  him  no  uneasiness. 
None  who  know  him  will  suppose  it  to  be  there  on  account  of  cow 
ardice." 

The  weeks  passed  on ;  the  pleasant  September  days  came,  but 
David  was  worse.  His  father  came  in  time  to  see  him  die.  When 


THE    CHRISTIAN    PEACE.  167 

it  was  all  over,  I  tried  to  comfort  him  for  his  loss,  but  he  put  the 
words  kindly  aside  : 

"  I  don't  need  any  comfort  from  man,  for  God  has  given  me  so  much, 
in  seeing  the  happy  death  of  my  boy,  that  I  am  perfectly  content." 

Prof.  M.  L.  Stoever,1  of  Pennsylvania  College,  Get 
tysburg,  remained  in  the  town  throughout  the  terrible 
days.  At  much  personal  risk,  he,  with  other  citizens, 
strove  to  do  what  he  could  for  the  many  wounded  suffer 
ers.  His  reminiscences  of  the  battle  are  exceedingly 
rich  and  valuable.  We  present  a  few,  each  of  which 
illustrates  some  aspect  of  the  Christian  soldier's  peace  in 
the  hour  of  deepest  trial  : 

One  of  the  most  touching  scenes  I  remember  was  in  attending 
upon  a  man  who  became  a  Christian  as  he  lay  wounded  in  the  col 
lege  edifice.  I  read  to  him  the  precious  promises  of  God's  Word  ; 

his  ioy  seemed  unspeakable;  his  countenance  beamed 

J   J  The  Postscript. 

with  delight  as  the  hour  of  his  departure  drew  near. 
While  sending  to  his  family  his  dying  messages,  he  spoke  with  strong 
confidence  of  his  acceptance  of  the  Saviour's  love.     After  I  had 
closed  the  letter,  he  said  — 

"  Please  add  a  postscript.  Tell  mother  to  urge  my  brothers  to 
serve  the  Lord." 

His  earnestness  with  regard  to  this,  in  the  midst  of  his  sufferings, 
was  deeply  impressive. 

Captain  Griffeth,  of  Gen.  Howard's  staff,  was  mortally  wounded 
in  the  battle.     Amid  army  associations  and  perils,  a  warm  personal 
attachment  had  grown  up  between  the  General  and  his  Adjutant; 
and  when  the  command  came  to  pursue  the  retreat 
ing  foe,  the  General  hastened  to  take  his  last  fare-      the 


well.    The  door  was  closed  ;  words  of  sympathy  were 

necessarily  brief,  —  than  Christ's  own,  none  were  better  ;  Gen.  How 

ard  read  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  St.  John  — 


1  Afterwards  a  member  of  the  General  Commission,  and  a  frequent  and  effi 
cient  Delegate. 


168  CHEISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled  :  ye  believe  in  God,  believe  also 
in  Me.  In  My  Father's  house  are  many  mansions ;  if  it  were  not 
so,  I  would  have  told  you  ;  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you.  And  if 
I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again  and  receive  you 
unto  Myself;  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be  also." 

Then  bowing  upon  the  floor,  the  General  commended  his  wounded 
friend  to  the  compassionate  God  and  Father  of  all  those  who  trust  in 
Him,  and  rising  from  his  knees  clasped  him  in  one  long,  fond,  weep 
ing  embrace.  Thus  the  heroes  parted.  One  to  pursue  the  Rebellion 
to  its  death ;  the  other,  within  a  few  days,  to  enter  into  the  rest  of 
God. 

In  the  school-house  Prof.  Stoever  found  together  two  interesting 
<£nd  intelligent  young  men,  who  had  just  had  amputation  performed. 
They  were  Confederates,  and  both  from  Lutheran  colleges, — one  from 
Roanoke  College,  Va.,  the  other  from  Newberry  Col 
lege,  S.  C.  Their  teachers  had  been  students  in  the 
college  at  Gettysburg,  and  were  well  known  to  the 
Professor.  One  of  them  was  already  a  Christian;  the  other  had 
found  Christ,  he  trusted,  on  that  battle-field. 

"Tell  my  father,"  said  the  first,  "if  you  can  get  a  letter  to  him, 
that  I  am  leaning  on  the  strong  arm  of  Jesus ;  He  comforts  me ;  all 
my  hope  is  in  Him." 

Said  the  other,  "Write  to  my  mother  that  I  have  found  the 
Saviour;  He  is  precious  to  my  soul.  And  say  to  her, — 'If  I  meet 
you,  mother,  no  more  on  earth,  I  hope  to  meet  you  in  heaven.'" 

Prof.  Stoever  narrates  a  striking  instance  of  the  way 
in  which,  through  Christ  Jesus,  all  Christians  are  made 
one : 

The   Sabbath  after  the  battle  my  attention  was  directed  to  the 
destitution  of  a  hospital  in  the  Roman  Catholic  church  of  Gettys 
burg.     On  entering  the  building,  filled  with  wounded  and  dying,  I 
was  met  by  a  Roman  Catholic  lady,  well  known  to 
rl     T^  °J      me  as  a  £ooc^  woman,  but  a  very  rigid  religionist. 

She  said  at  once — 

"Do  come  and  speak  to  this  man.  The  Surgeon  says  he  will  die, 
and  he  is  unconverted." 


THE    CHRISTIAN    PEACE.  169 

I  followed  her  to  the  chancel  within  which  he  was  lying.  She 
introduced  me  as  a  Protestant,  connected  with  the  college,  and  then 
left  him  to  my  attention.  I  presented  to  him  the  only  way  opened 
for  his  return  to  God,  and  kneeling  by  his  side,  prayed  with  him, — 
the  first  prayer  doubtless  ever  offered  by  a  Protestant  in  that  church, 
and  that  at  the  request  of  one  of  its  members.  The  man  died  shortly 
afterwards  most  peacefully,  trusting  in  Christ  and  with  the  hope  of 
eternal  life.  He  was  the  son  of  a  pious  mother;  although  he  had 
never  made  a  profession  of  religion,  the  early  instructions  had  pre 
pared  his  mind  to  lay  hold  of  the  cross  and  to  embrace  the  Saviour. 

Near  the  altar  of  the  same  church,  Mr.  Stuart,  the 
chairman  of  the  Commission,  ministered  to  anothei 
soldier,  who  was  led  to  find  Christ  Jesus  precious.  He 
writes : 

As  I  was  passing,  a  man  near  the  altar  looked  up  at  me  imploringly 
and  asked,  "Ain't  you  going  to  stop  and  talk  to  me?"  I  went  to 
him  and  ascertained  that  his  name  was  Wm.  O.  Doubleday.  His 
wife  was  a  Christian.  She  had  taught  each  one  of 

his  children  to  pray  as  soon  as  they  could  lisp  the  scene  by  a 

.         „    ,      /  _      .          »      ,.    .  Roman  Catholic 

words.     He  had  never  made  a  profession  of  religion      ^ar 

himself,  but  was  not  what  is  called  a  "wicked  man." 

"  When  I  enlisted,"  said  he,  "  which  I  did  because  I  considered  it 
a  disgrace  to  be  drafted,  just  as  I  was  leaving  for  the  war,  my  wife 
said,  'I  hope  you  will  come  back  all  right,  and  a  good  Christian.' 
It  touched  my  heart.  We  went  into  the  room  with  the  family,  and 
there  she  prayed  for  me,  and  then  asked  me  to  pray.  I  tried  to 
offer  a  few  broken  petitions.  My  little  boy,  only  thirteen  years  old, 
then  offered  a  most  earnest  prayer  for  me  and  for  our  distressed 
country.  I  don't  know  where  he  learned  to  pray  like  that,  unless  it 
was  in  the  Sabbath-school." 

When  he  learned  how  I  was  connected  with  the  Commission,  and 
saw  the  badge,  tears  came  to  his  eyes.  When  I  spoke  to  him  of 
Jesus,  he  pressed  my  hands,  and  the  tears  came  fast  as  rain.  I 
prayed  with  him,  and  then  he  asked  me  to  bend  down  and  kiss  him. 
He  died  soon  after  from  the  effects  of  an  amputation. 

I  received  a  letter  from  his  wife,  who  came  to  him  before  his  death. 


170  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

She  was  very  earnest  in  her  expressions  of  thankfulness,  and  told 
me  with  loving  sorrow  and  joy  how  her  husband's  peaceful  death 
1  ad  answered  her  prayers. 

Mr.  Stuart  also  visited  in  a  private  house  of  the  town, 
Lieut.  William  Henry  Walcott1  of  Providence,  R.  I., 
who  told  him  how  he  had  been  supported  amidst  pains: 

The  Lieutenant  had  heard  me  through  his  window,  addressing  a 
large  congregation  in  the  "Diamond"  or  public  square  of  the  town, 
and  thinking  I  was  a  clergyman,  sent  for  me.  His  story  was  as 

follows : 

Chrises  Drink  ((  „        .f    died  a  h  before    h  ,  } 

and  Mine.  J 

since  leaving  home  my  little  child  has  died  also.     I 

took  thirty-nine  men  into  the  battle  in  my  company;  twenty-nine  of 
them  are  either  killed  or  wounded.  I  fell  on  Thursday  near  Round 
Top,  on  a  spot  much  exposed  and  alternately  lost  and  won  by  our 
troops.  My  own  men  could  not  carry  me  off  the  field,  so  I  signalled 
to  the  Colonel  by  waving  my  handkerchief,  and  was  sent  for.  In 
carrying  me  to  a  place  of  safety  my  wounds  and  pain  were  aggra 
vated.  I  had  been  lying  across  two  men,  one  dead  and  the  other 
dying,  but  was  unable  to  move.  The  dying  man  was  one  of  the  best 
soldiers  in  my  company.  I  had  often  taken  the  men  to  church,  and 
now  amid  the  din  and  danger  I  prayed  with  him.  Very  soon  he 
was  gone. 

"I  was  carried  to  the  regimental  hospital,  but  they  could  do 
nothing  for  me;  then  to  the  division  hospital,  where  the  wound  was 
examined  and  my  foot  amputated.  On  Friday  the  Rebels  shelled 
the  hospital.  I  was%taken  away  a  long  distance  into  the  woods;  the 
bearers  thoughtlessly  placed  me  near  the  foot  of  a  little  hill,  so  that 
when  the  rain  came  on,  streams  of  water  poured  along  the  ground 
under  the  shelter  tent  which  had  been  pitched  over  me.  On  the 
battle-field  I  thought  1  could  not  endure  my  sufferings,  but  then  I 
called  to  mind  what  Jesus  had  endured ;  and  how  that,  while  I  had 
water  to  drink,  He  had  vinegar  and  gall  offered  Him." 

With  this  constantly  recurring  reflection,  the  soldier  kept  up  his 
drooping  spirits  until  relief  came. 

1  17th  Keg't.,  U.  S.  Inf.,  afterwards  Bvt.  Major. 


THE   CHRISTIAN    VICTOR Y.  171 

Rev.  Mr.  Parvin  chronicles  the  testimony  of  Captain 
Billings  of  the  20th  Maine  Regiment.  The  story's  close 
tells  of  one  of  the  hardest  tasks  of  the  Delegate: 

A  Captain  was  brought  into  the  old  barn,  where  lay  sixty-five  of 
the  worst  cases  in  the  Fifth  Corps.     The  brave  fellow  had  some  of 
his  own  men  lying  on  the  floor  not  far  from  him.     He  loved  them 
with  a  father's  love.     As  one  after  another  they  died 
before  his  eyes,  it  worked  so  upon  his  mind  that  he       .  Captain  Bdl- 
became  delirious,  until  it  took  four  or  five  men  to 
hold  him.     With  great  difficulty  we  got  him  away  from  his  men  into 
a  room  by  himself,  where  he  rallied  and  became  a  little  better. 

Once  as  I  was  passing  into  his  tent,  the  Surgeon  came  out ;  he  told 
me  that  the  Captain  must  die.  I  entered  and  took  him  by  the  hand. 
His  first  words  were — 

"Chaplain,  what  did  the  Surgeon  say?" 

"  Why,  Captain,  you  are  in  a  critical  case." 

"I  know  that,  Chaplain,  but  does  he  think  I  can  live?" 

"  He  thinks  it  hardly  possible  that  you  will." 

"Have  you  heard  from  my  wife,  Chaplain,  since  your  message 
yesterday?" 

"No;  the  telegraph  lines  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Government,  but 
I  hope  she  will  be  here." 

"Does  the  Surgeon  say  I  cannot  live  long,  Chaplain?" 

"Yes, — but  then  you  are  a  Christian,  Captain." 

"  Yes,  Chaplain,  I  have  no  fears.  I  left  my  place  in  the  Sabbath- 
school  for  my  place  in  the  army.  My  hope  is  in  the  Lord  Jesus.  I 
have  tried  to  serve  Him  in  the  army,  and  He  will  not  forsake  me 
now; — but  I  would  like  to  see  my  wife." 

"  Well,  Captain,  if  you  have  anything  to  say  to  her,  will  you  send 
the  message  by  me  ?" 

He  asked  me  to  give  her  his  haversack,  sword  and  some  other  little 
things,  with  a  message.  Dismissing  then  all  earthly  things  from  his 
mind,  he  said  to  me — 

"  Don't  stay  any  longer  with  me,  Chaplain ;  go  and  help  the  boys, 
and  run  in  here  as  you  can  to  read  a  few  words  from  the  Bible." 

Once  afterwards  he  asked  me  to  have  his  body  embalmed  and  sent 


172  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

home.  I  promised  to  do  so.  He  did  not  even  refer  to  it  again,  but 
passed  away  in  triumph. 

It  was  in  the  morning  at  eleven  o'clock  that  he  died.  At  five  in 
the  afternoon  his  body  was  sent  to  the  embalmers.  Late  that  night, 
as  I  was  busy  writing  letters  from  memoranda  taken  through  the 
day,  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  In  stepped  a  man  inquiring  for 
Captain  Billings.  What  a  question  for  us  to  meet !  I  thought  of 
the  home  link. 

"Who  are  you?"  I  asked. 

"  I  am  his  brother ;  I  have  his  wife  with  me  !  I  have  kept  her  up 
all  the  way  with  the  hope  that  we  would  find  the  Captain  in  good 
condition.  Where  is  he,  sir?" 

"You  have  not  brought  the  Captain's  wife  out  here  to-night?" 
The  Corps  hospital  was  four  miles  from  Gettysburg. 

"  No,  I  left  her  in  town  until  the  morning." 

"  That  was  well.  The  body  of  your  brother  was  sent  to  the  em 
balmers  this  afternoon." 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot  tell  her.  I  cannot  trust  myself  to  try 
to  tell  her,  or  even  to  see  her  again  to-night ;" — the  poor  man  broke 
down  in  his  grief, — "  I  have  brought  her  on  all  the  way  to  Gettys 
burg  for  this,  and  now  you  must — you  must  tell  her  all." 

And  so  our  duty  was  to  see  the  bereaved  wife,  and  deliver  to  her 
the  messages  and  tokens  of  the  dying  love  of  her  husband,  and  to 
speak  to  her  words  of  comfort  in  the  name  of  the  Lord. 

Rev.  W.  T.  Eva1  tells  the  story  of  two  soldiers  who 
seemed  to  have  entered  into  the  meaning  of  the  Father's 
promises  of  eternal  care  : 

Away  in  the  corner  of  a  shed  crowded  with  wounded,  I  found  a 
dying  man.  His  limbs  were  already  cold  and  the  death-damp  was 
upon  his  brow.  Fellow-sufferers  were  thick  enough  about  him,  yet 

he  was  dying  alone.     He  was  still  conscious  when  I 
11  Happy  Day!"  J.   6 

came  to  him, — not  only  conscious,  but  happy  in  the 

love  of  God.  I  can  truly  say  that,  nowhere  have  I  witnessed  a 
more  triumphant  peace  than  his.  We  prayed  by  his  side,  and  then 
sang— 

1  Pastor  of  (N.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Kensington,  Philadelphia. 


THE   CHRISTIAN   VICTORY.  173 

"  Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea," 
with  the  chorus — 

"  Happy  day  !  happy  day  ! 
When  Jesus  washed  my  sins  away." 

As  we  prayed  and  sang,  the  Holy  Spirit  seemed  to  come  down  not 
only  upon  the  dying  man,  but  on  all  in  that  dolorous  place ;  and 
here  and  there,  from  among  the  wounded  braves  as  they  lay  upon 
the  floor,  was  uttered  aloud  the  earnest  cry,  "  God  have  mercy  on  my 
soul !" 

In  a  barn,  lying  upon  a  slab  floor,  with  nothing  under  him  but  a 
little  wet  hay,  and  with  scarce  a  rag  to  cover  him,  I  found  a  middle- 
aged  man  shot  through  the  body,  and  so  paralyzed  by  the  shock  of 
an  exploding  shell  that  he  was  entirely  unable  to 
move, — the  most  abject  picture  of  utter  wretchedness       w,    J3 
I  ever  beheld.     He  was  quite  sensible  however,  and 
having  done  what  I  could  to  make  him  comfortable,  I  spoke  of  his 
heroic  devotion  to  the  flag,  of  the  love  of  God  and  of  the  Saviour's 
death.     A  flood  of  tears  welled  up  in  his  eyes  and  rolled  down  over 
the  bronzed  face.     He  was  too  full  to  speak ;  but  it  was  evident  that 
even  in  that  forlorn  man  I  had  found  not  only  a  true  patriot,  but 
also  a  lover  of  Jesus  and  a  blessed  witness  to  the  triumph  of  the 
grace  of  God. 

A  few  short  reminiscences  by  Mr.  Parvin  tell  their 
own  story  of  sacrifice  and  Christian  victory: 

After  the  battle  in  the  heavy  showers,  many  of  the  wounded  on 
the  bank  of  a  brook  were  in  danger  of  drowning  from  the  rapid  rise 
of  the  water.     There  were  no  stretchers,  and  some  of  the  badly 
wounded  could  not  be  carried  in  the  arms  of  the 
men  without  great  pain.  A  New Siretcher' 

"  Lay  them  on  my  back,"  said  a  Delegate,  going  into  the  water  on 
his  hands  and  knees,  and  thus,  bent  with  his  face  to  the  ground,  he 
conveyed  them  tenderly  out  of  the  reach  of  danger. 

The  store-house  was  at  some  distance,  and  I  had  but  one  bottle  of 
blackberry  cordial  left,  so  I  called  out — 

"  Boys,  I've  got  one  bottle  of  nice  cordial  here;  who  wants  it?" 


174  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

A   brave  fellow   near   me  replied,   "You'll   find 

eep  it  foi      others  not  far  Off  wno  need  it  more  than  we  do, 
Them. 

Chaplain  ;  keep  it  for  them." 

I  can  never  forget  how  the  heroes  greeted  me  that  morning,  as  I 
passed  along  a  line  of  shelter  tents,  which  were  flooded  with  the  last 

night's  rain : 

"  We  don't  « £rever  mind,  Chaplain  ;  we  don't  care  for  our 
"!  m,,  °  soaking,  if  the  Potomac's  only  full,  so  that  Lee  can't 

cross." 

-  This  was  the  last  message  of  a  Maine  soldier, — "Charley"  his 
comrades  called  him : 

"  Tell  mother  I  received  my  wound  on  my  twenti- 
A  Given  Life.      ^  birthday>     j  give  my  life  for  my  COUntry  ;  if  I 

had  another,  I  would  give  it  too." 

A  soldier,  only  seventeen  years  old,  who  had  rim  away  from  his 

employer  in  Camclen,  N.  J.,  to  join  a  Philadelphia  regiment,  was 

found  on  the  field  with  seven  bullet  holes  in  his  body,  and  having 

but  a  little  while  to  live.     I  knelt  down  on  the 

Our  Father:      groun(j  ky  fam  an(j  asked  for  his  mother's  name  and 

residence : 

"  I  have  no  mother.  Chaplain." 

" Have  you  a  father?" 

"  No." 

"Any  brothers  or  sisters?" 

"  No  relatives  in  the  world." 

Poor  fellow  !  he  seemed  alone  indeed.     I  took  his  hand  in  mine  : 

"  Martin,  you've  been  at  Sunday-school?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  You  have  forgotten  one  relative,  then." 

He  looked  at  me  inquiringly,  when  I  added,  pointing  upwards— 

"  '  Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven  ;'  there  is  a  Father  and  a  home 
for  you  up  there." 

Doubtfully  at  first,  then  with  slowly  increasing  assurance,  the 
precious  truth  was  received.  In  a  broken,  childlike  way  he  learned 
to  pray  to  this  only  relative  in  earth  or  heaven.  Soon  the  face  grew 
bright  and  glad,  and  the  answer  of  the  once  restless,  homeless  eyes, 
was  one  of  trusting  peace. 

A  great  favorite  among  his  comrades  was  M ,  a  soldier  from 


THE   HUMISTON   CHILDREN. 


175 


Massachusetts.     After  his  death  his  mother  wrote  me,  begging  for 
"only  one  lock  of  his  hair."   A  comrade  of  the  dead 
soldier  went  down  into  the  last  resting-place,  and  sev-      ^  . 
ering  a  damp  lock,  it  was  sent  on  its  mournful  errand 

Perhaps  no  incident  of  the  war  became  so  widely 
known  and  excited  such  deep  sympathy  as  the  story  of 
the  Humiston  children.  The  main  facts  of  the  narra 
tive  are  these : 


"THE   HUMISTON   CHILDREN." 

(An  exact  copy  of  the  original  picture.) 

Dr.  J.  Francis  Bourns,  of  Philadelphia,  was  crossing  the  moun 
tains  on  his  way  to  Gettysburg,  as  a  volunteer  Surgeon  and  Delegate 
of  the  Commission.  An  accident  to  his  vehicle  forced  him,  with 
three  fellow-travellers  on  the  same  errand,  to  halt  at 
Graefenberg  Springs.  Mr.  Schriver,  the  proprietor, 
exhibited  to  them  a  beautiful  ferrotype  of  three 
lovely  children,  which  had  been  found  clasped  in  the  hands  of  a 
soldier  dead  on  the  battle-field.  The  picture  was  so  held  that  it  must 


A     Father's 
Last  Look. 


176  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

have  met  his  dying  gaze.  No  other  memoranda,  relics,  or  even 
equipments  were  found  on  the  body,  so  that  identification  was  impos 
sible.  Dr.  Bourns  obtained  the  ferrotype,  with  the  intention,  when 
his  Delegate  work  wras  over,  of  using  it  to  discover  the  little  father 
less  ones.  He  persevered  until  all  the  obstacles  in  the  wray  of  obtain 
ing  a  salable  picture  were  overcome  by  some  Philadelphia  artists; 
and  then  furnished  to  the  press  all  he  knew  of  the  story,  simultane 
ously  with  the  publication  of  the  photograph,  since  so  well  known. 
Week  after  week  passed ;  still  the  mystery  of  the  dead  soldier  was 
unsolved  ;  inquiries  poured  in,  but  there  was  no  identification.  Dr. 
Bourns  began  to  despair.  A  copy  of  the  American  Presbyterian,  con 
taining  a  description  of  the  picture,  found  its  way  to  a  little  town  on 
the  Alleghany  river,  in  Western  New  York.  The  affecting  tale  was 
rehearsed  through  the  village  for  several  days,  exciting  the  warmest 
sympathy.  A  lady  carried  the  paper  to  a  friend  who  had  not  heard 
from  her  husband  since  the  battle.  The  narrative  recalled,  with 
dread  accuracy,  a  picture  which  the  wife  had  sent  her  husband  just 
before  Gettysburg.  The  fact  was  communicated  to  Dr.  Bourns,  who 
sent  a  copy  of  the  picture  in  reply.  It  was  the  first  news  that  she 
had  «that  her  children  were  fatherless,  and  she  a  widow.  The  name 
of  the  unknown  soldier  A\as  thus  found  to  be  Amos  Humiston,  Ser 
geant,  154th  K  Y.  S.  Vols.,  of  Portville,  K  Y.  The  sale  of  copies 
of  the  picture  was  afterwards  made  the  means  of  great  good.1 

No  result  of  the  ministrations  after  this  battle  was 
more  marked  than  that  manifested  in  the  altered  feeling 
among  the  Rebel  prisoners.  The  Delegates  allude  to 
this  constantly  in  their  reports.  We  can  present  but 


1  Dr.  Bourns  informs  us  (March  1868),  that  "The  founding  of  the  'National 
Orphan  Homestead'  at  Gettysburg,  is  the  sequel  to  the  story  of  the  Humiston 
children.  About  seventy  soldiers'  orphans  have  been  received  into  the  institution, 
and  there  are  many  more  fatherless  little  ones  who  are  awaiting  its  enlargement 
of  accommodations."  The  Ilumiston  children  are  living  at  the  "  Homestead"  with 
their  mother,  who  is  an  under-matron.  The  morning  after  the  children  came  to 
the  institution,  it  was  found  that  they  had  gone  out  quietly  and  decked  their 
father's  grave  with  beautiful  flowers. 


AMONG    THE    CONFEDERATE    PRISONERS.  177 

a  few  of  the  numerous  instances  at  command.     Mr.  De- 
mond  says  i1 

A  Delegate  passing  around  among  the  wounded,  giving  sympathy 
and  aid,  came  to  an  officer  from  South  Carolina.  Said  he — 

"  Colonel,  can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?" 

"No,"  was  the  reply,  with  stubborn  defiance.  "Devils"  and 

'  He  passed  on.     By  and  bye  he  came  round  again,      "  Angels." 
made  a  similar  inquiry,  and  was  again  refused.     Yet 
he  came  again  the  third  time.     The  air  had  become  offensive  from 
heat  and  wounds ;  he  was  putting  cologne  on  the  handkerchiefs  of 
one  and  another  as  he  passed : 

"Colonel,  let  me  put  some  of  this  on  your  handkerchief?" 

The  wounded  and  suffering  man  burst  into  tears,  and  said,  "I  have 
no  handkerchief." 

"  Well,  you  shall  have  one,"  and  wetting  his  own  with  cologne,  he 
gave  it  to  him.  The  Colonel  was  now  ready  to  talk : 

"  I  can't  understand  you  Yankees ;  you  fight  us  like  devils,  and 
then  you  treat  us  like  angels.  I  am  sorry  I  entered  this  war." 

Mr.  John  Patterson2  tells  the  following  rather  amusing 
little  colloquy  between  some  soldiers,  Union  and  Con 
federate,  and  himself: 

Quite  a  number  of  us  had  been  busy  aiding  the  Surgeons,  who 
had  attended  to  about  two  hundred  cases  of  amputation  during  the 
day.  When  the  men  were  washed  and  dressed,  at  supper  they  began 
bragging  about  our  good  butter. 

"  Let  us  see,  boys,"  said  I,  "  which  of  you   can          ^    "^no   °f 
make  the  best  wish  for  the  old  lady  who  made  the 
butter." 

"  An'  shure,"  replied  an  Irishman,  "  may  iv'ry  hair  of  her  hid  be  a 
wax  candle  to  loight  her  into  glory," — a  kind  of  beatified  Gorgon,  one 
would  say.  Then  came  another  Irishman's  wish  : 

"  May  she  be  in  hivin  two  wakes  before  the  divil  knows  she's  did." 

The  third  and  last  was  from  a  son  of  the  Emerald  Isle  likewise ;  it 
was  addressed  to  myself: 


1  Williams  College  Alumni  Address,  p.  27.  2  See  p.  32. 

12 


178  CHFvISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  An'  troth,  sir,  I  hope  God  '11  take  a  loikin'  to  yursilf." 

The  letter  which  follows  was  written  in  answer  to  a 
note  in  a  comfort-bag,  sent  from  a  town  in  Massachu 
setts  by  a  little  girl : 

GETTYSBURG,  August  7th,  1863. 

MY  DEAR  LITTLE  FRIEND  : — I  received  your  present,  the  com 
fort-bag,  and  it  is  thrice  welcome,  although  it  was  intended  for  Union 
defenders.     It  was  given  to  me  by  a  Christian  woman,  who  lost  her 
holy  anger  against  Rebels — for  such  am  I — in  her 
The  Rebel's     bounteous  sympathy  with  the  unfortunate.    My  little 
friend   can  imagine  my  thankfulness  for  the  favor, 
when  I  inform  her  that  I  have  no  friends  this  side  of  heaven — all 
gone,  father,  mother,  sister  and  brother,  and  I  am  all  alone. 

The  dear  comfort-bag  I  shall  always  keep  as  a  memento  of  true 
sympathy  from  a  generous  heart  in  the  loyal  State  of  Massachusetts. 
I  hope  you  will  not  be  disappointed  by  this,  coming  as  it  does  from  a 
Rebel ;  for  I  was  forced  into  the  ranks  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet, 
for  I  would  not  go  willingly  to  fight  against  the  dear  old  flag,  whose 
ample  folds  have  always  shielded  the  orphan  and  made  glad  the 
oppressed. 

I  have  read  your  note  very  many  times  over,  and  have  wished  it 
could  rightfully  be  mine.  "  Do  they  think  of  me  at  home  ?" 
Silence — all  is  silence !  Not  so  with  the  Union  soldier ;  a  thousand 
tokens  tell  him  yes. 

I  was  wounded  in  the  second  day's  fight,  and  am  now  packing  up 
my  all  to  be  exchanged  or  sent  back  a  cripple  for  life.  I  am  seven 
teen  years  old,  and  now  am  turned  out  with  one  arm  to  carve  my 
way  through  the  world  ;  but  my  trust  is  in  my  heavenly  Father, 
who  will  forgive  and  bless.  Hoping  that  God  may  in  mercy  reunite 
us  all  again  as  brothers  and  sisters,  I  am  your  unworthy  friend, 

E A , 

Co.  — ,  Miss.  Volunteers. 
P.  S. — May  God  guard  and  bless  you  ! 

Mr.  J.  B.  Stillson  writes : 
The  morning  was  always  hailed  with  peculiar  satisfaction  by  the 


AMONG    THE    CONFEDERATE    PRISONERS.  179 

sufferers.  The  badly  wounded  would  often  ask  during  the  weary 
night  hours,  "How  long  before  the  morning  will  be  here?"  as  if 
thinking  that  with  its  beams  would  come  deliverance. 
Very  early  one  morning,  an  old  Confederate,  suffering  "  One  Takena^d 
from  two  flesh  wounds,  beckoned  to  me  as  though 
he  would  ask,  "Watchman,  what  of  the  night?"  I  had  often 
already  ministered  to  his  wants,  and  been  impressed  with  his  venera 
ble  look,  betokening  as  it  did,  a  peaceful  and  trusting  heart.  With 
voice  subdued  and  gentle  as  a  child's,  he  spoke  of  his  only  son 
Thomas,  who  had  been  in  the  fight  and  was  either  killed  or  wounded, 
he  feared.  Learning  the  boy's  company  and  regiment,  I  made 
inquiry,  and  soon  found  him  very  close  by,  and  mortally  wounded. 
The  son  in  turn  was  very  anxious  about  his  father.  When  told 
how  near  he  was,  he  said  quickly,  "  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  see  him  once 
more."  Procuring  assistance,  I  bore  him  to  his  father's  side. 

As  they  were  brought  face  to  face,  tears  flowed  freely  ere  a  word 
was  spoken.  The  old  man's  greeting  was  simply,  "  Thomas,  my 
son," — he  could  say  no  more.  The  boy's  first  question  was,  "My 
father,  are  you  badly  wounded?"  When  told  that  his  father's 
wounds  were  not  serious,  a  thankful  smile  lit  up  his  face,  until  the 
father  recovered  from  the  first  effects  of  his  emotion,  and  inquired — 

"  Thomas,  are  your  wounds  bad  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  fear  they  are  mortal,"  and  so  the  sad  story  of  the  coming 
parting  was  told. 

The  son  was  pointed  to  the  cross ;  every  temporal  want  was  sup 
plied,  but  before  midnight  he  died. 

The  old  man,  bereft  of  wife  and  children,  mourned  as  did  Jacob 
of  old  for  his  Joseph,  and  prayed  that  he  too  might  depart.  I  com 
forted  him  with  precious  Gospel  assurances,  and  told  him  how  "our 
light  affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a  far  more 
exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  A  few  days  afterwards  the 
cloud,  which  had  seemed  so  impenetrable,  was  scattered  before  the 
brightness  of  the  rising  "  Sun  of  Righteousness,"  and  the  old  man  re 
joiced  in  confiding  faith  that  "  He  doeth  all  things  well." 

Laboring  on  the  field,  in  connection  with  Mrs. 
Harris  and  the  Commission,  was  Rev.  Geo.  Duffield, 


180  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Jr.,1  who  spent  a  large  part  of  his  time  in  looking  espe 
cially  after  the  Confederate  wounded  in  our  hands : 

"  Oh,  come,  mister,  and  see  them  in  the  cow-stable,"  said  a  poor 
woman  whom  the  neighbors  called  "the  faithful  creature;"  "they 
are  some  of  them  worse  off  than  these." 

Sure   enough,  it  was  even   so.     There  they  were, 
The  Penalty      UQ^  any  worse  wounded  or  more  utterly  helpless  and 
of  Rebellion.  i     -i  •  -, 

destitute  of    decent  clothing, — lor  in  these  respects 

all  were  upon  a  common  level.  But  there  was  at  least  this  differ 
ence  in  favor  of  those  in  the  wagon-shed ;  theirs  was  comparatively 
clean  dirt.  In  the  cow-stable  the  filthy  water  of  the  dung-heap  had 
dammed  up  and  backed  in  upon  them,  saturating  straw,  blankets, 
and  everything  else  within  its  reach.  There  was  still  another  and 
more  painful  difference.  On  account  of  the  water  most  of  the  scanty 
hay  had  floated  away,  and  left  the  poor  sufferers  lying  upon  the  bare 
rails,  sometimes  without  so  much  as  the  thickness  of  a  single  blanket 
between  their  emaciated  bodies  and  the  sharp,  knotty  wood.  And 
these  men  were  the  elite  of  the  Southern  army, — lawyers,  planters, 
men  of  wealth,  intelligence  and  refinement, — some  of  them,  as  I  was 
afterwards  informed,  had  been  Ruling  Elders  in  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  and  members  of  its  General  Assemblies. 

At  first  the  distribution  of  the  bread  was  in  solemn  silence,  remind 
ing  me  strangely  enough  of  distributing  on  a  communion-day  the 
emblems  of  Christ's  body  and  blood,  as  well  as  of  the  command, 
"  If  thine  enemy  hunger,  feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink." 
But  misery  soon  found  a  tongue.  The  first  man  who  spoke  to  me  was 
from  Georgia,  apparently  about  twenty-five  years  of  age,  and  whose 
language  and  whole  bearing  impressed  me  with  the  belief  that  he  had 
known  what  home  and  generous  hospitality  were.  In  the  course  of  a 
twenty  years'  ministry — ten  of  it  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  in  times 
of  cholera  and  famine,  in  the  most  obscure  alleys,  in  the  court  within 
the  court,  in  the  Penitentiary,  in  the  incurable  wards  of  the  Blockley 
Almshouse  Hospital,  in  Bedlam — I  have  often  looked  on  sad  and 


1  Pastor  then  of  (N.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Adrian,  Mich.;  now,  of  that  in 
Galesburg,  111.  Mr.  Duffield's  observations  were  published  in  letters  to  his 
brother,  in  the  Deti'oit  Advertiser  and  Tribune. 


AMONG    THE    CONFEDERATE    WOUNDED.  181 

despairing  faces ;  but  never,  in  any  man  who  yet  retained  reason,  on 
such  a  face  of  blank  hopelessness  as  this. 

"  O  sir,"  said  he,  with  an  accent  of  agony  that  thrilled  me  through 
and  through,  "  much  as  I  thank  you  for  this  bread,  which  is  the  first 
mouthful  of  anything  I  could  eat  since  I  was  wounded,  I  would 
rather  do  without  it  and  starve  outright,  than  remain  any  longer  in 
my  present  position.  Just  look  at  me ;  I  am  shot  through  the  lungs 
and  spine,  and  cannot  move  myself  a  hair's  breadth,  and  here  I  am 
bent  across  this  rail  as  if  on  a  rack, — not  a  handful  of  hay,  or  even 
the  thickness  of  a  blanket  under  me.  I  shall  die  if  I  do  not  gain 
relief — immediate  relief,  sir, — from  this  insupportable  torture." 

To  help  the  wretched  sufferer  was  no  very  easy  matter ;  on  one 
side,  almost  touching  him,  was  a  man  who  had  his  right  leg  off;  on 
the  other,  one  who  had  lost  his  left ;  and  any  one  who,  in  passing 
through  a  hospital,  has  ever  touched  the  blanket  of  such  a  man  and 
heard  his  piteous  exclamations,  will  be  careful  ever  after  how  he  does 
so  again.  Finding  at  length  a  resting-place  for  my  feet,  one  on  each 
side  of  him,  and  reaching  over  to  the  trough  for  support,  I  managed, 
with  one  of  his  arms  round  my  neck,  partially  to  raise  him  up,  and 
was  beginning  to  push  a  little  hay  under  him,  when  a  feeble,  pettish 
voice  exclaimed — 

"  Don't  you  steal  my  hay  ;"  answered  by  the  man  on  the  other  side 
in  a  similar  tone — 

"And  don't  you  steal  any  of  mine." 

A  bale  of  such  hay  could  not  have  been  bought  with  all  the  gold 
in  California.  With  great  difficulty  I  gathered  up  the  little  portion 
properly  belonging  to  him,  and  added  some  of  the  reeking  straw, 
adjusting  his  blanket  so  as  to  envelop  his  whole  body.  With  an  air 
of  inexpressible  satisfaction  he  laid  himself  back  in  his  new  position, 
and  a  gleam  of  hope  once  more  lit  up  his  face,  as  if  the  sun  should 
dawn  at  midnight.  Seizing  my  hand  with  passionate  gratitude,  he 
was  about  to  cover  it  with  kisses. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  I,  pushing  back  his  head  with  gentle  violence,  "  if 
you  have  any  thanks  to  give  for  so  small  a  favor,  give  it  to  God  and 
not  to  me." 

In  an  instant  he  took  me  at  my  word.  His  short,  but  earnest 
ejaculatory  prayer  for  himself  I  could  not  help  taking  up  for  all  his 
suffering  comrades.  The  Master  prayed  for  His  enemies,  "  Father, 


182  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

forgive  them."     Why  should  not  I,  a  poor  sinner  myself,  offer  a 
similar  petition  for  mine  ? 

These  men,  although  in  such  sad  plight,  were  out 
spoken  in  expressing  their  attachment  to  the  South. 
Indeed  the  ministry  of  kindness,  while  it  affected  the 
political  tendencies  of  the  privates,  touched  the  officers 
much  less.  Rev.  Mr.  Duffield  adds  that  after  hearing 
them  talk,  he  could  hardly  keep  from  telling  them  this 
very  recent  experience  of  his : 

The  day  before,  near  Dillstown,  on  my  way  from  Carlisle,  while 
stopping  at  noon  to  bait  our  horses,  away  off  in  a  far  corner  of  the 
porch,  sitting  very  quiet,  and  apparently  very  tired  and  hungry,  I 
discovered  two  colored  men,  one  of  whom,  especially, 
by  the  name  of  Harrison  Ash,  was  a  splendidly  pro 
portioned  man,  about  six  feet  two  inches  in  height, 
and  who  must  have  been  a  very  valuable  chattel  to  his  master,  a 
Mississippi  Colonel,  when  human  flesh  was  at  a  premium  like  gold. 

His  story  was  as  follows : 

"  I  came  here  wid  de  Southern  army,  an'  I've  been  wid  it  ever 
since  de  war  begun.  Friday  we  had  a  big  fight,  de  biggest  fight  yit, 
an'  we  git  an  awful  big  lickin'.  Friday  night  we  had  a  'treat.  Me 
and  Druro  here  was  'sleep  under  a  tree ;  rain  poured  down  powerful, 
an'  dey  lef  us.  So  in  de  mornin',  when  we  woke  up,  dey  was  done 
gone." 

'•  Why  don't  you  follow  them  ?" 

"  Followed  dem  long  'miff ;  besides,  dey  trabbel  too  fast,  an'  we 
can't  cotch  up." 

"  That  is,  you  didn't  want  to  follow  them  ?" 

"  No,  sah." 

"  Wasn't  your  master  kind  to  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  mos'  times ;  though  de  hardest  lickin'  he  ever  guv  me  was 
for  what  he  did  hisself." 

"  You  would  rather  stay  in  Pennsylvania,  then  ?" 

"  Yes,  sah  ;  dey  tell  us  dere  in  Mississippi,  dat  at  the  Norf  dere's 


AMONG    THE    CONFEDERATE    PRISONERS.  183 

nuffin'  but  snow  and  ice  all  de  year  roun',  but  dis  don't  look  much 
like  it,  I  reckon,  an'  I'd  as  lief  lib  here  as  dar,  I'm  tinkin'." 

"  You've  been  thinking  of  a  good  many  things  to-day,  I  suspect, 
Harrison.  Let  me  see  that  big  hand  of  yours,  and  feel  the  grit  of 
it.  Who  owned  that  hand  yesterday?" 

"  Massa  did." 

"  He  made  it  work  for  him.     Who  owns  it  to-day  ?" 

"  Reckon  Harrison  does  hisself." 

"  Stand  up,  Harrison  ;  do  you  know  it, — you  are  a  freeman,  both 
by  the  laws  of  God  and  man.  What  work  you  do,  you  will  be  paid 
for ;  what  pay  you  get,  you  can  put  in  your  own  pocket  instead  of 
into  your  master's." 

Like  one  awaking  from  a  dream,  or  like  the  man  in  the  "Christus 
Consolator,"  long  shackled  and  lying  in  a  dungeon,  just  beginning  to 
move  his  unfettered  limbs  and  to  look  upon  the  light  of  day,  so  was 
it  with  poor  Harrison. 

Supposing,  from  an  incidental  remark,  that  he  was  not  altogether 
destitute  of  God's  grace,  I  asked — 

"  What  do  you  know  about  religion,  Harrison?" 

"  I  know  dat  Jesus  come  to  save  sinners." 

"  What  did  He  do  to  save  them  ?" 

"  He  died  for  them." 

"  Did  He  die  for  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  He  died  for  me  as  for  any  sinner." 

"  Did  you  ever  feel  that  you  were  a  sinner  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  one  time  very  much,  when  I  was  'bout  sixteen  years 
old." 

"  How  long  did  you  feel  this  so  much  ?" 

"  Till  I  'sperienced  de  new  change." 

"  What  change  ?" 

"  Why,  de  change  in  de  heart,  you  know,  when  we  begin  to  love 
de  Lord  Jesus,  who  died  for  us." 

There  was  religion  in  its  real  essence.  The  work  of  Christ  for  us 
on  the  cross  ;  the  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  us  ;  a  change  of  state 
and  a  change  of  nature  both ;  the  prisoner  not  only  pardoned,  but 
the  jail  fever  arrested  and  put  in  process  of  cure.  Surely,  if  these 
things  are  hid  from  the  worldly-wise  and  prudent,  who  through  their 
own  pride  and  folly  will  not  stoop  to  even  pick  them  up  when  they 


184  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

lie  at  their  feet,  yet,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  !  they  are  still 
revealed  unto  babes. 

Further  on,  in  a  barn,  more  Confederates  were  found : 

Some  of  the  poor  wretches  were  not  only  in  great  bodily  distress, 
crying  continually,  "  O  Lord,  bless  my  wounds!"  but  also  in  still 
greater  mental  distress.  One  fatally  wounded  man  said  to  Mrs. 

Harris,   who  was   attracted   to   him    by  his   heavy 

"Knuckling  to 
the  Lord.-    '  groaning- 

"O  ma'am,  if  I  was  only  sure  that  my  sins  could 
be  pardoned,  so  that  if  I  died  I  might  go  to  heaven,  I  would  be  more 
reconciled." 

Pointing  him  to  the  mercy  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  she  recom 
mended  him  to  seek  it  in  prayer;  and  strange  enough  was  the  petition 
of  this  poor  Publican  : 

"O  Lord,  save  my  body!     O  Lord,  save  my  soul!  and  if  You  do, 

0  Lord,  I'll  knuckle  to  You  to  all  eternity." 

One  extract  more, — a  picture  and  an  outlook : 

"  The  fruitful  place  was  a  wilderness,  and  all  the  birds  of  the 
heaven  were  still."  Whether  it  was  owing  to  the  noise,  the  smoke, 
the  universal  presence  of  the  soldiers,  or  the  noisome  and  pestilential 

atmosphere,  I  do  not  know,  but  certain  it  is,  that  the 
A  Symbol  of  .   ,  ,  .  ,       ,        ,  .    , 

peace  orioles,  robins,  and  other  birds,  so  plentiful  about  the 

cemetery  before  the  battle,  had  entirely  disappeared 
from  it.     Singularly  enough,  the  very  first,  and  indeed  the  only  bird 

1  saw  on  the  battle-field,  and  that  at  the  extreme  verge  of  it,  was  a 
solitary  turtle-dove,  sitting  in  perfect  silence,  with  its  head  turned 
towards  the  path  of  strife,  one  might  believe  in  mute  contemplation 
of  the  scene  of  carnage. 

"  Surely  that  bird  is  strangely  out  of  place,  and  has  no  business 
here,"  said  one. 

"  Not  so,"  was  the  reply ;  "  may  we  not  accept  it  as  a  happy  omen, 
and  see  in  it  the  joyful  harbinger  of  the  return  of  peace, — a  peace  on 
the  sure  foundations  of  truth  and  righteousness?" 

We  cannot  close  the  record  of  Gettysburg  better  than 


A    LOYAL    CONFEDERATE.  185 

by  the  following  story  of  an  East  Tennessee  loyalist. 
At  the  request  of  the  lady  who  furnishes  the  narrative, 
and  who  was  not  connected  with  the  Commission,  names 
are  withheld : 

A  lady  from  Philadelphia,  moving  through  one  of  the  field  hos 
pitals  a  few  days  after  the  battle,  had  her  attention  drawn  to  a  young 
Confederate  asleep  and  dreaming.  He  was  talking  aloud.  Going 

to  his  cot-side,  she  gently  fanned  away  some  flies 

,  .  ,  ,       ;      ,        1  r  The  Loyal  East 

which  were  buzzing  about  a  bandage  concealing  the     Tennesseean 

lower  part  of  his  face.    One  hand  was  pressed  tightly 

against  his  breast.     A  kindly  but  rough  Irish  nurse  coming  by,  the 

lady  inquired  about  the  wounded  man: 

"  Indade,  mum,  he  bates  me  intoirely.  His  clapper's  half  shot 
out,  mum ;  but  he's  furivir  gossipin'  wid  himsilf,  and  the  Vargin  only 
knows  what  he's  sayin' ;  an'  it's  all  'bout  a  bit  book  wid  a  rag  roun' 
it,  an'  not  wan  he'll  let  touch  it,  mum.  He's  the  strange  craythur, 
mum,  that's  shure." 

No  one  knew  his  name,  and  the  lady  discovered  that  his  wounds 
were  pretty  certain  to  prove  fatal.  Unwilling  to  disturb  him  in  his 
troubled  sleep,  she  passed  on. 

The  next  morning  a  Surgeon  stood  by  the  soldier's  bed.  The  poor, 
unknown  boy  was  dying.  Two  weak,  sad,  wandering  eyes  were  open 
ing  and  closing  restlessly.  It  seemed  very  mournful  that  one  so 
young,  nameless  and  alone  should  die  thus  among  strangers.  The 
Irish  nurse  was  much  affected  : 

"An'  shure,  now,  av  we  only  had  the  bit  book,  it  wud  have  the 
poor  craythur's  name  intil  it ;"  but  no  coaxing  or  efforts  could  get 
the  book  away  from  him.  The  Surgeon  said  he  would  wake  from  his 
long  stupor  before  death, — indeed,  he  was  already  beginning  to  do 
so.  The  lady  sat  down,  fanned  him  and  paid  him  what  gentle  atten 
tions  she  could.  By  and  bye  he  began  muttering  to  himself,  but  his 
utterance  was  so  indistinct  that  nothing  could  be  gathered  from  it. 
Suddenly  turning  his  head  a  little,  he  spied  an  old  Union  flag  which 
hung  temporarily  at  one  end  of  the  ward.  He  gazed  at  it  a  moment 
earnestly,  the  lady  watching  him  meanwhile  with  intense  interest ; 
a  great  change  came  over  his  face ;  the  dull,  unconscious  look  passed 


18G  CHUISTIAX    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

away.  Pdiiting  to  the  flag,  he  turned  painfully,  and  asked  with 
much  clearer  utterance — 

"  What  do  they  let  it  stay  there  for  ?" 

The  question  was  not  a  pleasant  one  for  the  lady  to  answer, — for 
several  reasons ;  but  she  replied — 

"  Because  Gen.  Lee  was  beaten  the  other  day,  and  has  retreated. 
Don't  you  remember  ?" 

The  answer  seemed  to  confuse  him.  He  looked  back  and  forth 
from  the  lady's  face  to  the  flag,  murmuring — 

"  Beaten  ? — Gen.  Lee  ? — retreated  ?" 

All  at  once  the  meaning  appeared  to  grow  plain  ;  a  look  of  joy 
covered  his  face ;  he  turned  to  the  old  stripes  and  stars, — tears  mean 
while  coming  out  of  the  poor,  sunken  eyes,  and  said  fervently — 

"  Thank  God  !  thank  God  !" 

The  lady  thought  this  strange  for  a  Confederate  soldier ;  supposing 
he  had  misunderstood  her,  she  explained  her  meaning  again ;  but  the 
poor  fellow's  eyes  closed ;  the  old,  hopeless  blank  settled  upon  his 
face ;  he  seemed  more  puzzling  and  strange  than  ever. 

He  began  to  dream  now;  his  face  grew  bright,  and  the  old,  mut 
tering  noise  was  resumed,  only  much  more  distinctly.  He  seemed  to 
be  back  again  at  his  home.  He  talked  first  of  some  one  whom  he 
called  "Mamma  Tilly," — his  mother  she  was  found  to  be  afterwards; 
then,  about  "  Nettie,"  his  wife.  The  soldier's  face  became  positively 
beautiful  soon,  for  he  thought  Nettie  had  come  and  was  with  him  ! 
He  told  her  how  glad  and  happy  he  was  to  see  her,  and  asked  about 
Harry,  their  little  boy.  The  invisible  Nettie  seemed  to  be  answering 
his  questions,  for  he  would  look  up  now  and  then  and  laugh, — sadly 
it  sounded,  too,  from  his  wounded  mouth.  In  the  dream  still,  he 
opened  his  shirt,  brought  out  the  precious  book  with  the  "  bit  rag" 
about  it,  and  then,  looking  up  again  into  the  eyes  "  so  near,  and  yet 
so  far,"  laughed  a  low,  happy  laugh,  saying — 

"  Nettie,  darling,  there  it  is  yet, — good  Minister 's  Testament, 

with  the  old  flag  round  it  still." 

The  lady  bent  forward  eagerly  and  saw  a  little  well-worn  and  well- 
marked  Testament,  and  wrapped  around  it  very  carefully  a  torn  bit 
of  the  Union  flag. 

The  dream  of  Nettie  seemed  to  be  lost  for  a  while,  and  another 
replaced  it.  The  soldier's  mutterings  were  still  indistinct,  but  they 


A    LOYAL    CONFEDERATE.  187 

were  made  out  to  be  a  kind  of  history  of  the  flag-shred  ; — how  the 
Rebels  had  come  into  the  village,  pulled  down  the  Union  flag,  and 
torn  it  into  hundreds  of  fragments,  then  trampled  these  in  the  dust ; 
how  he  had  gone  out  in  the  night  at  peril  of  his  life,  had  picked  up 
a  piece  of  the  dishonored  banner,  had  taken  it  home  and  cherished 
it ;  how  he  was  driven  from  his  home  and  forced  into  the  Confederate 
army ;  but  how  he  had  clung  silently,  through  all  the  months  of  drill 
and  march  and  battle,  to  the  old  symbol  which  he  loved.  It  was  a 
thrilling  story,  as  the  lady  gathered  the  facts,  one  by  one,  from  the 
lips  unconscious  of  the  tale  they  were  telling.  She  understood  now 
the  noble  soldier's  unexplained  conduct  and  words. 

The  musing  reminiscence  of  the  flag  was  done,  and  Nettie  came 
back  again, — only  for  a  few  moments,  however,  little  more  than  for 
a  kiss  and  a  farewell, — a  kiss  given  by  no  human  lips,  a  farewell  ut 
tered  to  no  visible,  human  presence.  Yet  it  could  not  have  been 
unconscious  pantomime ;  mere  shadows  could  not  have  cheated  that 
dying  man ;  it  must  have  been  real,  not  the  less  so,  if  St.  Paul's  ex 
perience  was  true,  because  invisible.  And  then  came  another, 
brighter  vision, — a  vision  which  none  may  smile  at,  thank  God,  or 
call  untrue, — seen  by  too  many  glad  eyes  during  eighteen  hundred 
years,  for  men  to  be  deceived  by  it  now, — a  vision  of  the  Crucified. 
Only  two  words  were  uttered,  but  who  can  measure  them  ? — "  Jesus 
—dear." 

And  so  the  soldier  went  away  to  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord. 

The  little  Testament  told  the  whole  story  in  a  few  simple  dates. 
The  date  of  his  confirmation  was  given,  with  the  name  of  the  loved 
clergyman  who  had  given  him  the  Testament,  and  had  written  in 
front  the  words  of  the  Collect  for  the  second  Sunday  in  Lent : 

"Almighty  God,  who  seest  that  we  have  no  power  of  ourselves  to 
help  ourselves ;  keep  us  both  outwardly  in  our  bodies  and  inwardly 
in  our  souls ;  that  we  may  be  defended  from  all  adversities  which 
may  happen  to  the  body,  and  from  all  evil  thoughts  which  may 
assault  and  hurt  the  soul :  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen." 

The  sentences  had  been  written  two  years  before  the  war ;  it  would 
have  been  hard,  however,  to  have  chosen  more  appropriate  ones  for 
all  the  unforeseen  conflict  and  toil  between. 

The  date  of  the  soldier's  marriage  was  recorded, — a  month  or  two 
only  before  the  war  began.  On  one  of  the  fly-leaves  these  words  of 


188  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Isaiah  were  written  :  "  Is  not  this  the  fast  that  I  have  chosen  ?  to 
loose  the  bonds  of  wickedness,  to  undo  the  heavy  burdens,  and  to  let 
the  oppressed  go  free  ;  and  that  ye  break  every  yoke  ?"  Close  after 
these  words  was  the  date  of  the  firing  on  Fort  Sumter.  This,  with 
other  plentiful  marks,  showed  that  the  brave  Tennesseean  had 
entered  into  the  full  meaning  of  the  struggle.  The  birth  of  little 
Harry  was  chronicled  ;  and  dates  attached  to  passages  all  through 
the  book  showed  how  the  noble  loyalist  had  followed  amidst  enemies 
the  varying  fortunes  of  the  war.  Towards  the  close  of  1862,  the 
Rebels  had  entered  the  village  in  East  Tennessee  which  had  been 
his  home ;  here  was  begun  the  romance  of  the  flag.  He  had  fled 
with  Nettie  and  Harry  into  Northern  Alabama ;  there  he  was  forced 
into  the  Rebel  army.  The  date  of  separation  from  his  family  was 
appended  to  these  words  of  St.  Luke — 

"  Be  not  afraid  of  them  that  kill  the  body,  and  after  that  have  no 
more  that  they  can  do." 

Several  letters  from  his  wife,  who  found  her  way  back  to  the 
wrecked  and  ruined  home  in  Tennessee,  were  tucked  away  carefully 
at  the  close  of  the  book.  After  reading  them,  one  might  doubt 
which  of  the  two  had  the  firmest  faith  in  Christ  and  in  the  final  tri 
umph  of  right  in  the  war. 

The  relics  of  the  dead  were  gathered  and  kept,  and  when  East 
Tennessee  was  opened,  they  were  sent  safely  to  Nettie.  Little  Harry 
was  dead,  but  a  sweet  little  girl  had  come  in  his  place.  Nettie  wrote 
a  touching  letter  of  thanks  for  what  had  been  done  for  her  husband: 
"  It  had  been  such  a  long  time  since  I  got  a  letter  from  him  that 
I  had  given  him  up  entirely,  even  before  your  good,  kind  letter  came. 
I  am  glad  that  I  know  now  just  how  he  went  away.  I  want  to  live 
long  enough  to  tell  little  Alice  all  about  it,  when  she  can  understand 
better  than  she  does  now." 

She  did  not  live  long  enough  for  this,  however.  A  few  months 
only  intervened,  and  Nettie  went  to  be  with  her  husband.  Their 
bodies  rest  now,  side  by  side  with  little  Harry's,  after  their  weariness 
and  separation,  amidst  the  sunny  golden-rod  on  the  banks  of  the 
Clinch.  Little  Alice  has  been  brought  to  the  home  of  the  lady  who 
was  at  her  father's  bed-side  in  the  Gettysburg  hospital.  She  has 
a  middle  name  now,  which  her  friends  love  to  call  her,— it  ™ 
"  Loyal." 


A    LOYAL    CONFEDERATE.  189 

The  lady  who  tells  this  story  was  herself  neither  loyal  nor  a  Chris 
tian  when  she  was  at  Gettysburg.  The  East  Tennesseean's  death 
taught  her  to  be  both  an  earnest  lover  of  her  country,  and  Christ's 
child  also.  So  she  feels  that  she  can  never  repay  little  Alice  for  the 
lessons  she  has  been  taught. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES, 

FROM   GETTYSBURG   UNTIL   GRANT'S  ADVANCE  ON    RICHMOND. 
July  1863— May  1864. 

THE  movements  of  the  armies  in  Virginia  for  several 
months  after  Gettysburg  need  no  chronicling  here. 
Commission  stations  were  established  at  Germantown, 
Warrenton,  among  the  First  Corps  hospitals  on  the 
Rappahannock,  at  Bealeton,  and  in  the  Third  Army 
Corps.  The  sick  were  promptly  taken  to  Washington ; 
so  that  the  main  work  for  some  time  was  among  the  well. 
In  September  occurred  the  strange  retreat  of  the  entire 
army  to  Centreville  Heights.  Tedious  days  of  slow 
advance  followed.  A  station  was  put  up  at  Gainesville 
in  October,  moved  thence  to  Manassas  Junction,  and  in 
November  transferred  to  Warrenton  Junction. 

Mr.  A.  D.  Matthews,  of  Brooklyn,  a  Delegate  in 
October  at  Winchester  Seminary  Hospital,  Frederick, 
Md.,  relates  an  affecting  story  of  a  mother's  courage  and 
of  a  soldier's  faith  : 

After  service  on  Sunday  morning,  I  found  Henry  M—  -  in  the 

hospital,  dreadfully  wounded  in  the  breast.     He  was  one  of  three 

brothers, — all  Sunday-school  scholars  at  the  time  of  their  enlistment. 

Two  or  three  weeks  before,  Henry's  mother  had  been 

called   from    her  home  in   Northern  New  York  to 
and  her  Sons. 

Washington,    to  see    Willie,    one    of    the    brothers, 

190 


FREDERICK.  191 

who  was  at  the  point  of  death.  He  lingered  but  a  few  days  after 
her  arrival,  then  sweetly  fell  asleep  in  Jesus,  Efforts  to  embalm 
the  body  failed,  and  the  broken-hearted  mother  had  just  followed 
it  to  the  grave,  so  far  from  home,  when  she  was  summoned  in  haste 
to  Henry's  cot  in  Frederick.  The  Surgeon  cautioned  her  not  to 
mention  the  fact  of  Willie's  death,  as  the  soldier's  wound  in  the 
breast  was  liable  to  open  during  any  fit  of  sobbing  or  crying,  and 
death  might  be  the  result.  Of  course,  one  of  Henry's  first  questions 
was  about  his  brother.  The  mother  replied — 

"  Don't  be  troubled  about  him,  my  son ;  keep  perfectly  quiet ; 
Willie  is  in  good  hands,  and  well  cared  for." 

With  heroic  fortitude  for  several  days  she  kept  the  mournful  news 
pent  up  in  her  breast,  until  some  one,  not  knowing  the  restriction, 
alluded  to  Willie's  death.  Henry  looked  into  his  mother's  face : 
"  Mother,  is  Willie  dead  ? "  Concealment  was  no  longer  possible  ; 
and  telling  the  sad  story,  she  realized  the  Surgeon's  fears.  The 
wound  re-opened,  and  for  several  days  life  hung  by  a  slender  thread. 
The  Sunday  morning  I  visited  him  he  had  begun  to  mend.  There 
was  a  smile  on  his  face  as  he  told  me  of  his  once  feeble  hope,  of  his 
present  gladsome  prospect : 

"  Since  I  have  lain  here  the  old  lessons  have  come  fresh  and  new 
to  mind  ;  I  am  now  sure  that  Jesus  is  my  all." 

The  mother's  heart  was  spared  the  loss  of  her  second  son,  though, 
before  Henry  had  entirely  recovered,  she  was  made  anxious  again  by 
news  from  the  third,  who  was  wounded  in  battle,  but  soon  able  to 
return  to  his  regiment. 

Rev.  Luther  Keene,1  a  Delegate  to  the  forces  about 
Washington  in  October  and  November,  furnishes  the 
following  sketches  of  hospital  work : 

A  young  German,  afterwards  baptized  by  Rev.  Mr.  Coit,  of  S. 
Brookfield,  Mass.,  came  to  talk  to  me  about  himself: 

"  There  are  two  voices  within  me ;  one  voice  tells  me  to  play  cards 

and  swear :  the  other  to  go  to  the  meeting."     He 

The  Two  Voices. 
described    with   vividness   and   minuteness  his   last 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  N.  Brookfield,  Mass. 


192  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

conflict ;  it  was  as  much  a  real  one  to  him  as  if  voices  were  actually 

audible, — indeed  was  it  not  more  real  ?     I  asked  him  which  voice  he 

was  going  to  obey.     With  decision  in  his  animated  face  he  replied, 

"  The  good  voice."     I  showed  him  St.  Paul's  words   in  the  seventh 

chapter  of  Komans,  and  how  he  had  been  unconsciously  quoting  them. 

After  his  baptism,  he  gave  one  evening  a  precious  sign  of  his  love 

for  Christ  and  souls.     Going  to  a  comrade  at  the  meeting's  close,  he 

led  him  forward  to  where  the  men  were  kneeling  to  be  prayed  for.    It 

was  a  beautiful  sight  to  see  him  make  room  among 

Guiding  into  ^Q  company  for  the  unresisting  soldier,  and  then 
the  Kingdom.  ,  .  ,  ~ 

help  him    down  upon  his  knees.     Coming  to  where 

I  stood,  he  told  me  that  the  man  was  almost  deaf.  By  putting  my 
mouth  close  to  his  ear  I  prayed  with  him.  The  last  I  saw  of 'them, 
they  were  leaving  the  meeting  together, — the  deaf  soldier  leaning  on 
the  German's  arm,  who  seemed  to  be  tenderly  and  solicitously  help 
ing  him  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Those  letters  written  for  soldiers, — how  precious  they  were  some 
times  !     I  met  one  poor  little  English  boy  in  the  hospital.     His  face 
was  piteous  with  homelessness  and  waiting.     "  I  would  give  all  I  have- 
in   the  world,"  he  said,  "  if  I  could  only  hear  from 
Letters  Home.       ,  „      -^  ,  .     ,    ,  111 

home.       I1  or  some  reason  his  letters  had  been  long 

unanswered.  I  wrote  to  England  for  him,  and  there  wras  at  least  one 
happy  heart  in  the  army  a  few  weeks  afterwards,  when  the  answer 
came. 

I  had  visited  a  dying  soldier  named  Hill,  and  written  home  for  him. 
One  morning  I  found  a  young  stranger  kneeling  at  the  cot-side.  He 
was  Hill's  brother.  Shall  I  ever  forget  the  grasp  of  that  man's  hand 
and  the  light  in  his  eyes,  as  he  told  me  about  those  letters  home,  nar 
rating  so  simply  the  story  of  a  soldier's  endurance  and  victory  over 
sin  ?  Or,  shall  I  ever  forget  another  scene, — over  which  there  was 
joy  elsewhere,  if  not  there,  wThen  the  brother,  maimed  in  the  service 
of  the  Government,  followed  the  dead  soldier  to  the  grave,  and  wept 
with  me  there  ?  We  were  the  only  mourners,  and  yet  many  of  the 
poor  boys  had  fewer  still. 

The  army  in    November  moved   against  Lee.     The 
Rappahannock  was  brilliantly  crossed  on  the  7th ;  and 


RAPPAHAXXOCK    STATION.  193 

after  bridges  were  rebuilt  and  communications  opened, 
the  Rapidan  was  passed  on  the  26th.  The  armies  faced 
each  other  along  Mine  Run  for  several  days.  On  De 
cember  1st  and  2d  our  forces  were  withdrawn,  and  the 
campaign  of  1863  was  ended. 

A  few  days  before  the  advance  to  Mine  Run,  Brandy 
Station  became  the  grand  centre  of  supply  and  commu 
nication.  Thither,  with  such  instructions  as  the  Field 
Agent  could  give,  went  Rev.  E.  F.  Williams  with  six 
Delegates.  The  first  Sunday's  service  was  an  earnest 
of  the  great  winter  harvest  to  be  gathered  there.  Several 
weeks  before,  an  interesting  work  of  grace  had  begun 
among  the  unorganized  recruits  at  Warrenton  Junction. 

Chaplain  Norman  Fox,  of  the  77th  N.  Y.  Regiment, 
sent  to  the  New  York  Examiner  a  story  of  the  evening 
after  the  battle  of  Rappahannock  Station : 

I  found  a  young  man  of  the  10th  Mass.  Regiment,  with  his  leg 
crushed  and  mangled  by  a  piece  of  shell.     The  shock  had  been  so 
severe  that  amputation  was  useless,  and  he  was  sinking  rapidly.     I 
inquired  concerning  his  religious  history.     It  was  the 
old  story, — a  bright  hope,  active  church  membership, 
army  life  and  irregularities,  and  the  abandonment  of  his  profession. 
"And  now,"  said  he,  "if  there  can  be  forgiveness  for  such  a  wan 
derer,  pray  for  me." 

I  confess  I  felt  more  backwardness  than  was  right.  There  stood  a 
circle  of  rough  soldiers  surveying  the  solemn  scene  with  mere  morbid 
curiosity.  There  stood  another  group,  more  educated  and  refined, — 
a  knot  of  Surgeons,  some  of  whom,  I  knew,  had  no  belief  in  God  or 
eternity,  and  considered  my  interview  with  the  dying  man  as  at  best 
but  amiable  uselessness.  But  there  lay  the  sinking  sufferer,  and  I 
wore  the  uniform  of  a  minister  of  Christ.  Bending  over  the  table 
where  he  lay,  I  asked  the  Good  Shepherd  to  pardon  the  returning 
wanderer.  Murmured  responses  throughout  the  prayer  disclosed  his 
own  earnestness  in  the  petition;  the  smothered  hope  revived  again; 
13 


194  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

and  faint  at  first,  but  growing  brighter  and  brighter,  there  finally 
beamed  on  him  the  full  radiance  of  that  faith  which  supports  in  the 
stern  hour. 

Meanwhile,  there  stood  by  the  table  a  noble-looking  soldier,  a  little 
older  than  the  dying  man,  moistening  the  lips  of  the  latter,  and 
affectionately  smoothing  his  hair,  but  so  perfectly  calm  and  collected 
that  I  supposed  he  was  only  a  hospital  attendant.  A  casual  remark 
started  my  suspicion,  and  I  asked  him — 

"  Is  this  a  friend  of  yours?" 

"  It  is  my  younger  brother." 

Stooping  over  him,  the  brother  said,  "  S ,  what  shall  I  tell 

mother  for  you?" 

"  Tell  her  I  died  for  my  country,"  was  the  prompt,  cheery  reply. 

"  Give  me  a  kiss  for  her,"  said  the  other ;  and  the  bronzed  face 
bowed  down  to  the  pale  lips  as  tenderly  as  if  they  had  been  an 
infant's.  More  than  one  turned  to  hide  his  tears ;  the  brothers 
seemed  least  moved  of  all. 

The  dying  boy  sank  rapidly,  but  all  clouds  vanished,  and  faith 
grew  bright  and  strong.  I  repeated,  "  I  know  that  my  Redeemer 
liveth,"  "  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd,"  "  In  My  Father's  house  are 
many  mansions,"  the  beautiful  hymn — 

"  Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me," 

and  those  lines,  especially  dear  when  the  couch  of  dissolution  was 
a  rough  board  table  in  a  dark,  cold  tent,  with  only  a  knapsack  to 
rest  the  head  upon — 

"  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are." 

He  tried  to  repeat,  "Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul;"  I  finished  it  for 
him.  This  seemed  to  strengthen  him  even  more  than  the  others. 
But  his  voice  wras  already  beginning  to  fail.  Said  he, — 

"  There's — a — silver — pencil — in — pocket — " 

It  was  with  the  deepest  sorrow  we  saw  that  he  could  not  speak 
friendship's  last  message.  There  was  but  one  Friend  of  whom  he 
could  speak  now.  "We  watched  him  silently,  while  he  lay  for  some 
minutes  motionless ;  I  thought  all  was  over ;  but  rousing  suddenly, 
he  said — 


ARMY    PREACHING    SERVICES.  195 

"'Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul ;' — oh,  repeat  that  again  !" 
My  voice  choked  up  so  that  I  could  hardly  speak.     I  know  not  if 
he  heard  me,  for  before  I  reached  the  last  verse,  "  the  storm  of  life" 
was   over,   "the   haven"  was  reached,  and  "  the  billows"  had  died 
away  in  the  eternal  peace. 

Rev.  Amos  H.  Coolidge,1  a  Delegate  about  Mine  Run 
time,  gives  an  interesting  narrative  of  a  Sunday's  work  : 

I  started  out  after  breakfast,  my  horse  making  what  time  he 
could  in  the  deep,  sticky  mud.  Spending  a  short  time  in  the  Con 
traband  camp,  helping  the  eager  scholars  in  their  efforts  to  read,  I 
hastened  to  my  first  preaching  service  among  several 

detached    companies  of  artillery.     Then  followed  a          One  Sunday's 

.  .  .  Preaching. 

long  ride,  and  a  second  appointment  with  a  regiment. 

It  was  drawn  up  in  line ;  leave  was  given  any  to  retire  from  the 
ranks  and  the  sermon  if  they  wished  ;  only  two  left.  On  my  return, 
at  a  little  picket-station,  the  men  begged  for  a  service  ;  so  again 
the  word  was  preached.  At  another  picket-station  on  the  way, 
another  service  was  held.  Without  dismounting  this  time,  hymns 
and  prayer  and. the  proclamation  of  the  blessed  Gospel  succeeded 
each  other,  for  the  fourth  time.  The  men  were  hungry  and  grateful 
for  the  truth.  Further  on  was  a  wood-station,  where  were  several 
hundred  men  ;  night  was  coming  on,  but  meeting  a  friend,  arrange 
ments  were  made  for  my  fifth  preaching  service. 

"All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name" 

was  given  out  as  the  "  church-call."  Instantly  the  men  came  crowd 
ing  from  every  direction.  Fuel  was  added  to  an  already  immense 
fire;  a  great  army  of  flames  sprang  up  skyward,  sending  a  rich 
tinge  over  the  darkening  woods  and  ground.  Forth  over  the  multi 
tude  the  old  Good  News  went  on  its  heavenly  errand  once  more.  It 
was  indeed  a  solemn  assembly ;  and  many  days  afterwards  I  heard 
of  some  who  there  gave  themselves  up  to  Jesus. 

As  I  rode  away  into  the  night,  and  looked  back  upon  the  ever- 
lessening  blaze,  I  thought  of  the  "City"  where  "there  shall  be  no 


Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Leicester,  Mass. 


196  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

night;"  where  "they  need  no  candle,  neither  light  of  the  sun."  I 
was  more  glad  than  tired  as  I  came  to  the  Commission  quarters,  and 
prayed  that  the  five  services  might  be  blessed  of  God,  though  the 
congregations  had  not  sat  in  cushioned  pews  and  I  had  preached  from 
strange  pulpits, — three  stumps,  an  old  Virginia  harrow,  and  a  tired 
horse's  back. 

The  Commission's  work  during  January,  1864,  was 
chiefly  of  an  organizing,  preparatory  character.  The 
troops  were  in  what  proved  to  be  "  winter  quarters,"  but 
the  men  did  not  know  it,  nor  had  the  Commission  tents 
and  Delegates  for  its  fifteen  army  stations  till  the  month 

o  *> 

had  nearly  passed.  Yet  everywhere  the  soldiers  wel 
comed  the  agents,  and  came  to  the  depot  at  Brandy  Sta 
tion,  begging  for  brigade  and  division  chapels  in  which 
to  hold  preaching  services.  During  the  Winter,  not  less 
than  sixty  canvas  coverings  were  issued.  Under  these 
the  Chaplains  held  their  Sabbath  services  and  nightly 
meetings.  Without  them,  there  could  have  been  but 
little  opportunity  for  religious  gatherings  in  the  army 
during  this  Winter. 

The  great  work  of  revival  began  at  once ;  meetings 
at  the  stations  and  in  the  chapels  were  soon  crowded ; 
the  men  were  again  furnished  with  Testaments  and 
Hymn  books ;  Bible-classes  were  formed,  sometimes 
taught  by  Delegates,  sometimes  by  Chaplains,  sometimes 
by  the  soldiers  themselves.  For  very  many  wanderers, 
whose  number  can  only  be  known  when  the  books  are 
opened,  the  Winter  camps  became  the  "gate  of  heaven." 

Rev.   J.  B.   Davis1    and   Mr.    Johnston    Calhoun,2   in   February, 


1  Pastor  of  (O.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Bridesburg,  Philadelphia. 

2  Of  Ilookstown,  Beaver  Co.,  Penna. 


BRANDY    STATION.    *  197 

organized  a  Bible-class  in  the  1st  Brigade,  Horse  Artillery,  encamped 
not  far  from  Brandy  Station.  It  met  at  the  Commission  "Artillery 
Reserve  Station,  No.  2,"  and  numbered  forty-six 

private  soldiers.     The  work  among  these  men  and  in      Artillery  Reserve 

0  Bible-Class. 

the  chapel  meetings  was  especially  blessed  of  God. 

Rev.  Mr.  Davis'  first  sermon  here  was  preached  to  about  seventy- 
five  listeners  standing  in  the  mud.  The  soldiers  brought  boughs  of 
evergreen  from  the  river-bank  to  serve  as  a  carpet,  and  lumber  for 
the  seats, — after  which  the  chapel  was  comfortable.  Night  after 
night  the  meetings  were  crowded,  until  many  were  converted. 

The  artillery,  having  no  Chaplains  assigned  them,  stood  in  special 
need  of  spiritual  ministration  and  effort.  A  special  effort  was  there 
fore  made  throughout  the  Winter  to  reach  the  men  in  this  arm  of  the 
service.  The  Bible-class  scholars  sent  to  the  Central  Office  for  books 
to  aid  them  in  a  critical  study  of  God's  Word.  Their  requisition 
was  met,  and  the  meetings  of  the  earnest  Bible-students  became  a 
source  of  great  delight  to  themselves,  and  of  much  encouragement 
to  the  Delegates.  Several  of  them  were  college  graduates.  A  num 
ber  decided  to  prepare  for  the  ministry  when  their  army  service  was 
over. 

Rev.  E.  F.  Williams,  writing  from  Brandy  Station 
in  February,  says  : 

A  sutler  told  me  to-day  that  a  member  of  his  regiment,  who  could 
not  read,  but  had  recently  been  converted  at  one  of  the  soldiers' 
chapels,  was  so  anxious  to  hear  the  Saviour's  words,  that  day  after 

day  he  had  hired  his  comrades  to  read  to  him ;  and 

.  .  .  Paying  for 

only  yesterday  had  given  a  swearing  acquaintance        Bible- Reading 

ten  cents — all  the  money  he  had — to  read  to  him  the 
fifth  chapter  of  St.  Matthew's  Gospel.  He  would  ask-for  the  reading 
of  passages  which  he  had  heard  in  the  meetings,  and  was  continually 
on  the  alert  to  discover  the  names  and  numbers  of  chapters  which 
had  impressed  any  of  his  comrades,  or  of  which  he  in  some  way  had 
incidentally  heard. 


*  Rev.  G.  S.  Stockwell,  a  Baptist  clergyman  from  Springfield,  Mass.,  was  asso 
ciated  with  Messrs.  Davis  and  Calhonn  in  this  work. 


198  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

A  German  was  converted  here,  who  seemed  utterly  surprised  at 
the  goodness  of  God  to  him.  He  was  overheard  one  day  praying, 

"  O  Lord  Jesus,  I  didn't  know  You  were  so  good." 
The  Goodness        .  ,  .  ,, 

,  T  And  yet,  happy  as  he  was,  he  was  anxious  lor  more 

of  Jesus.  J  i L  J 

of  Christ's  presence,  and  kept  praying  that  God  would 
add  as  much  to  his  present  joy  as  He  had  given  at  his  conversion. 

In  tlic  Second  Division  of  the  First  Corps,  on  Sperry- 
ville  Pike,  a  station  manned  by  two  Delegates  was 
established.  The  usual  scenes  at  other  stations  were  wit 
nessed  here.  Key.  Mr.  Williams  writes  of  the  circum 
stances  attending  the  conversion  of  a  soldier  named 

o 

Charles  Rockwell,  at  this  place  : 

Born  in  the  State  of  New  York  of  pious  parents,  he  spent  his 

early  boyhood  in  Connecticut  in  every  kind  of  wickedness.     At  one 

time  his  parents  thought  him  converted,  and  forced  him  to  join  the 

church    contrary   to    his  will.     But    his   vows  were 

The    Trans-      liever  kept.     A  most  injudicious  and  sinful  prayer 

for  his  "damnation,"  by  an  officer  of  the  church,  on 

an  occasion  when  he  had  been  disturbing  a  meeting,  had  thoroughly 

hardened  him.     Ever  afterwards  he  supposed  himself  condemned  to 

hell,  and  met  every  effort  for  his  reformation  with  the  unwavering 

statement  of  his  doom. 

During  a  long,  perilous  whaling  voyage  he  had  a  very  narrow  es 
cape  from  immediate  death,  but  the  warning  was  without  any  effect 
upon  him  whatever.  Some  homely  remarks  of  another  officer  of  the 
church  with  which  he  had  been  connected,  set  him  thinking  seriously; 
soon  after  he  married  a  gentle,  loving  Christian  woman,  and  settled 
in  Pennsylvania.  His  wife  would  go  away  alone  day  after  day  to 
read  the  Bible  and  pray ;  her  husband  followed  her  once  to  listen ; 
she  was  praying  for  him.  He  was  deeply  affected,  and  with  difficulty 
avoided  discovering  himself. 

When  she  came  into  the  other  room  again,  he  asked  why  she  had 
gone  away  by  herself.  She  hesitated,  in  some  confusion  about  an 
swering,  when  her  husband  said — 

"Well,  never  mind;  I  know;  I  followed  you  up-stairs  to-day.     If 


SPERRYVILLE    PIKE    STATION.  199 

you  want  to  pray,  you  may  do  it  down  here  before  me,  and  not  go 
up  there  into  the  cold." 

Ever  afterwards  the  wife  maintained  family  prayers,  but  the  hus 
band  continued  intemperate  and  profane. 

When  the  war  broke  out  he  enlisted  as  a  cavalryman.  He  was 
soon  made  Orderly  Sergeant  for  his  skill  and  capacity,  but  was  re 
duced  to  the  ranks  again  for  his  crimes.  It  was  his  ambition  to 
drink  more  whisky  and  play  a  better  game  of  cards  than  any  other 
man  in  the  regiment, — the  17th  Penna. 

In  January  a  Delegate  was  sent  from  Culpepper  to  preach  to  the 
regiment.  The  sermon — on  small  sins — was  a  feeble  one,  Charley 
thought,  and  only  fit  to  ridicule.  Later  in  the  day  he  heard  another 
sermon  in  a  neighboring  regiment,  which  had  the  effect  of  driving 
home  to  his  conscience  the  words  of  the  morning's  discourse.  He 
went  to  his  tent  with  little  peace.  Some  clays  before  two  pious  sol 
diers,  hungry  for  a  prayer  meeting,  had  begun  one  in  their  own  tents.1 
]t  had  grown  until  some  twenty  men  attended  it.  To  escape  the 
thought  of  the  sermon,  Rockwell  wandered  round  after  excitement. 
Hearing  singing,  he  stumbled  upon  the  little  Christian  company, 
and  before  the  meeting  closed  rose  for  prayers.  It  was  not  God's 
time  yet,  however.  Regretting  what  he  had  done,  he  became  drunk, 
and  remained  so  several  days.  Coming  to  himself,  he  recalled  a 
scene  at  home  during  his  last  furlough.  He  had  been  urging  his 
wife  to  go  to  a  ball.  Putting  her  arms  around  him,  with  tears 
pouring  down,  she  said — 

"  Charley,  I'm  trying  to  live  as  a  Christian.  I  wish  you  were  one. 
But  I  can't  be  a  Christian  and  a  ball-dancer  too." 

In  great  agony  of  mind  he  sought  the  prayer  meeting  again.  The 
struggle  was  a  fearful  one,  but  at  last  God's  peace  came.  Describing 
the  close  of  the  strife,  he  afterwards  said — 

"  I  had  been  praying  all  night  until  about  two  o'clock,  when  I 
began  to  feel  strange.  I  kindled  a  fire,  not  sure  whether  I  was  alive 


1  The  regiment  had  no  Chaplain,  and  this  little  soldiers'  meeting  grew  so  large 
that  the  Colonel  gave  them  a  tent  which  held  about  thirty.  As  many  more  used 
to  crowd  about  the  entrance,  until  the  men  petitioned  for  a  Christian  Commission 
"  fly."  This  was  given  them,  as  well  as  occasional  help  from  Delegates  working 
nt  the  nearest  station. 


200  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

or  dead.  Then  I  lay  down,  slept  soundly  and  woke  early.  First  of 
all  I  prayed,  and  then  went  out  to  attend  to  my  horse, — usually  a 
vicious  animal.  This  morning  he  was  kind  and  gentle.  I  put  my 
arms  about  his  neck  and  said,  "  Well,  old  horse,  have  you  got  reli 
gion  too?" 

At  roll-call  in  the  evening,  Charley  stepped  forward  from  the 
ranks,  and  asked  leave  to  say  a  few  words.  Judge  of  his  comrades' 
surprise  when  they  heard  his  simple,  brave  speech : 

"  Comrades,  you  know  how  wicked  I  have  been, — what  a  life  I 
have  led  in  this  regiment.  With  God's  help,  this  day  Charley  Rock 
well  turns  over  a  new  leaf,  and  begins  to  live  as  a  Christian.  He 
wants  your  forgiveness  for  the  wrongs  he  has  done,  and  asks  you  to 
join  him  in  trying  to  serve  Christ." 

Ever  afterwards  he  was  an  earnest  Christian,  cheerfully  giving  up 
his  wicked  companions,  and  restoring,  as  far  as  it  was  in  his  power, 
his  gambling  gains.  He  used  to  tell  me  sadly  of  his  past  life. 

"  I  fully  expected,"  he  once  said,  "  to  go  to  hell ;  I  meant  to  go 
there.  I  used  to  think  I  would  get  Satan  to  make  me  his  prime 
minister, — and  then,  what  fun  I  would  have  in  raking  up  the  coals, 
and  heaping  them  on  the  heads  of  old  religious  hypocrites ! " 

His  faith  in  the  power  of  God's  grace  was  boundless.  Becoming 
anxious  to  study  for  the  ministry,  he  was  furnished  with  books  which 
he  diligently  conned.  But  the  book  of  delight  to  him  was  the  Bible; 
every  spare  moment  was  spent  in  its  perusal.  He  continued  stead 
fast  as  long  as  I  knew  him, — until  the  Wilderness  campaign  began. 

Rev.  Mr.  Williams  writes  from  Culpepper  Station,  the 
headquarters  for  work  in  the  First  Corps,  of  which  he 
had  general  charge : 

A  Pennsylvania  soldier  came  two  miles  regularly  every  night  to 

the  meeting  at  Culpepper.     Storms,  mud,  swollen  streams  could  not 

keep  him  away.     When  his  turn  came  to  go  on  picket,  he  paid  a 

companion  to  stand  two  hours  for  him,  rather  than 

Longing  for      loge  hig  favorjte  meeting.     He  could  not  read,  so  he 

the  Meetings.  .   . 

must  have  spiritual  food ;  he  could  only  hud  this  at 

the  evening  services  and  in  Christian  conversation. 


WARRENTON    JUNCTION.  201 

Rev.  Win.  M.  Taylor1  writes  in  March : 

Towards  the  close  of  my  labors  at  Vermont  Station,  near  Culpep- 
per,  I  administered  the  Lord's  Supper,  assisted  by  Rev.  Mr.  Smith.2 
One  thing,  most  worthy  of  note  in  connection  with  the  service,  was 

this — though  the  administration  was  to  members  of 

Communion. 
eight  different  denominations,  not  one  communicant 

belonged  to  the  (O.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  of  which  I  was  a  mem 
ber.  The  Commission  has  been  a  mighty  power  in  breaking  down 
sectarian  prejudices  and  barriers. 

Rev.  Benj.  Waddle,3  a  Delegate  during  February 
among  the  men  of  the  Fifth  Corps  at  Nelson  Station, 
Warrenton  Junction,  writes : 

The  corps  of  drummer-boys  at  the  station  numbered  ten.     One 
became  deeply  convicted  of  sin.     Ashamed  to  let  the  fact  be  known, 
he  sought  retirement  and  secresy  in  the  woods  for  prayer.     He  found 
Jesus.    An  elder  brother  imitated  his  example.    One 
after  another  followed,  until  the  whole  ten  "  rejoiced  A    FrayincJ 

in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God,"  and  began  sounding  out 
to  all  around  them  a  new  martial  call, — "  To  arms  for  Jesus !" 

The  influence  of  this  Warrenton  Junction  Station 
may  be  estimated  from  Rev.  Mr.  Williams'  report  of 
the  soldiers'  own  statements : 

"  Before  the  meetings  opened,"  said  one,  "  all  my  comrades  were 
profane  and  gamblers ;  but  now  not  an  oath  can  be  heard,  nor  a  card 
seen  in  our  camp." 

In  one  of  the  meetings  a  soldier  rose  and  said — 

"The  sectarian  jealousies  of  denominations  at  home  Influence   of 

.          the  Meetings. 
have  been  a  stumbling-block  in  my  way  ;  but  here  in 

the  army,  in  your  Commission  meetings,  the  corners  have  been  rubbed 


1  Pastor  of  (O.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Mount  Jackson,  Penna. 

2  Rev.  Geo.  Mure  Smith,  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Rocky  Hill,  Conn. 

3  Of  Kenton,  Ohio. 


202  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

off.     There  is  no  excuse  left  for  me.     I   mean,  with   God's  help,  at 
once  to  begin  living  a  Christian  life." 

Rev.  J.  B.  Pearson1  relates  an  incident  which  came  to 
his  knowledge  at  this  station  during  March  : 

A  mother  and  sister,  on  parting  with  a  son  and  brother  who  was 
soon  to  lead  his  company  into  battle,  said  to  him,  "  We  shall  pray 
for  you  every  night  at  seven  o'clock."  The  Captain  was  not  a  Chris 

tian  ;  yet  in  our  meeting  he  rose  and  told  us  — 
"  We  ahatt  Pi-ay  „  Not  a  nj   ht  b     but  at  the  hour  of  g 


for  you  at  Seven: 

remember   my   praying   mother   and    sister.     Once 

during  a  severe  skirmish,  lasting  into  the  evening,  for  some  reason  I 
looked  at  my  watch  ;  it  was  nearly  seven.  Though  I  had  no  claims 
on  God's  favor  and  had  never  sought  His  care,  yet  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  was  girdled  by  the  prayers  of  my  mother  and  sister,  and  that 
in  answer  to  them  He  would  bring  me  safely  through  the  fight." 
He  told  his  story  with  deep  feeling,  and,  I  trust,  soon  found  Christ. 

At  Warrenton  a  station  was  established  in  February. 
Rev.  Mr.  Williams  writes  of  its  beginning  : 

A  Delegate  preached  on  the  Sabbath,  and  was  invited  by  a  Captain 

to  share  his  tent  at  night.     Before  retiring  the  Delegate  learned  that 

the  Captain  was  a  backslider,  but  obtained  his  promise  that  he  would 

be  henceforth  faithful  in  secret  prayer  and  correct  in 

An  Entire  Com-  outward  YlfG.  I  can  never  forget  the  depth  of  feeling 
panyfor  Jesus.  . 

with  which  the  Captain,  in  one  of  the  meetings  at 

Warrenton,  gave  thanks  for  the  good  which  that  Delegate  had  done 
him.  Through  the  Divine  blessing  on  his  amended  life  and  renewed 
efforts  for  Christ,  every  member  of  his  company  had  then  become  a 
child  of  God. 

Perhaps  the  most  marked  work  of  the  Spirit  during 
this  Winter  and  Spring  was  that  begun  in  March  at 
Bristow  Station  in  the  llth  Penna.  Reserve  Regiment. 
Rev.  Mr.  Williams  gives  the  following  account  of  it  : 

1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church.  Plymouth  Hollow,  Conn. 


BRISTOW    STATION.  203 

Its  origin,  under  God,  was  in  the  prayers  and  efforts  of  a  private 
of  the  regiment.  Day  after  day  he  went  alone  into  the  woods  to 
pray.  His  comrades  scoffed,  but  he  persevered.  At  last  one  friend 

found  him.     This  man  had  been  converted  by  the 

.  ,  .  How  a  Great 

memory  of  a  conversation  with  a  pious  mother  on  a       _       7> 

J  L  Work  .Began. 

Sunday  long  previous.     His  mother's  sudden  death 

had  brought  into  relief  the  almost  forgotten  words.  The  two  pious 
men  together  felt  strong ;  in  faith  they  waited  for  a  blessing.  Others 
joined  them,  and  when  the  Commission  chapel  was  set  up,  "  It 
seemed,"  said  the  Chaplain  of  the  regiment,  "  as  if  God's  Spirit 
descended  at  once."  Prior  to  the  opening  of  the  tent  there  were 
seven  hoping  in  Christ ;  within  four  weeks  there  were  sixty-one. 

A  German,  deeply  interested  in  religion,  went  home  on  a  furlough. 
His  chief  regret  when  returning  was  the  thought  that  he  could  enjoy 
no  more  meetings  for  prayer.     Some  of  his  companions,  converted 
during  his  absence,  surprised  him  as  he  came  into 
camp  with  the  inquiry —  A    German's 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  meetings  ?"  Joy. 

"What  meetings?" 

"  Why,  at  the  Christian  Commission, — two  every  day.  Will  you 
come?" 

The  German's  heart  was  too  full  for  speech.  Describing  the  effect 
of  their  words  upon  him,  he  afterwards  said — 

"I  shoost  cried  for  glad.  I  could  shoost  see  Jesus  in  ter  poys' 
faces." 

Another  soldier  was  greatly  interested  in  reading  from  an  old  paper 
which  his  Chaplain  gave  him,  a  story  of  some  poor  children  in  Ger 
many,  who,  while  eating  the  bread  of  charity,  denied  themselves  their 
evening  meal,  which  they  sold  and  gave  the  proceeds 

to  the  missionary  cause.     He  was  so  much  moved  by 

.  dren   Preaching 

the  account  that  he  came  at  once  to  the  Chaplain,      ^  America 

and  told   him  of  a  vow  made  during  the  battle  of 
Games'  Mills, — that  if  the  Lord  would  spare  his  life,  he  would  give 
a  certain  amount  of  money  to  some  benevolent  object.     He,  paid  the 
vow  with  a  hundred  per  cent,  interest,  and  lived  afterwards  a  devoted 
Christian  life. 

Many  who  hoped  that  they  were  converted  here  wrote  at  once  to 
their  friends  of  the  change  experienced  ;  as  the  result  of  these  letters, 


204  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

several   revivals   began    in   different   parts  of   Pennsylvania.     One 

soldier  wrote  to  his  betrothed,  telling  her  of  his  con- 
Reflex  Work.  .  .  .          .  _  J      ~.    .  J 

version,  and  praying  her  to  give  herself  to  Christ; 

but  his  letter  met  one  from  her,  telling  of  her  conversion,  and  beg 
ging  him  to  live  for  Christ.  The  man  was  so  overjoyed  that  he  came 
and  called  up  a  Delegate  from  his  bed  to  hear  the  story. 

A  similar  incident  came  to  our  knowledge  in  the  case  of  a  hus 
band  and  wife,  whose  letters,  passing  each  other  in  the  mails,  each 
contained  an  account  of  the  writer's  conversion,  with  a  prayer  that 
the  other  might  find  peace  in  Jesus. 

At  Bristow,  the  result  of  the  work  in  six  weeks  was 
the  formation  of  a  "  Christian  Union,"  numbering  more 
than  one  hundred  and  twenty  members.  Mr.  Williams' 
narrative  explains  its  origin  : 

A  Missionary  concert,  held  the  first  Sunday  in  April,  gave  the 
soldiers  zeal  and  more  enlarged  views  of  working  for  the  salvation 
of  others.  They  rejoiced  in  giving  up  for  a  time  one  of  our  limited 

number  of  helpers,  to  look  after  destitute  regiments. 
"Monthly-Con-       „. 
„  .    £,'  Ihe  subsequent  reports  from  these  were  listened  to 

with  intense  interest.  Through  constant  attendance 
on  the  means  of  grace  and  zealous  work,  the  young  brethren  were 
built  up  in  a  wonderful  manner,  and  thus  drawn  together  into  a 
precious  Christian  communion.  All  this  prepared  for  the  formation, 
on  April  18th,  of  a  "  Christian  Union"  for  the  regiment.  The  har 
mony  with  which  believers  from  eleven  different  denominations,  with 
out  a  dissenting  voice,  could  form  such  a  brotherhood,  was  a  delight 
ful  testimony  to  the  oneness  and  strength  of  Christ's  religion.1 


1  There  were  two  original  hymns,  among  several  others,  composed  by  soldiers 
in  honor  of  the  formation  of  the  "Union,"  which  are  worth  preserving: 

A   PRAYER   FOR   BLESSING. 

We  come  to  Thee,  our  God  and  King, —  Before  Thy  mercy-seat  we  bow 

By  Jesus'  blood,  redeemed,  released;       And  plead  our  ransom, — Thy  Dear  Son. 

Accept  the  sacrifice  we  bring,  In  humble  confidence  that  Thou 

For  sake  of  our  Eternal  Priest.  Wilt  finish  what  Thou  hast  begun 


SPEKRYVILLE    PIKE.  205 

Mr.  J.  H.  Morley,1  during  his  term  of  service,  labored 
at  Sperry  ville  Pike  Station ;  from  his  report  we  select 
the  following  incident : 

One  of  the  most  interesting  cases  of  conversion  I  met  with  was 
that  of  a  German  named  Bolick,  of  the  17th  Penna.  Cavalry.  Seven 
years  before  he  thought  that  he  was  a  Christian,  but  although  the 

son  of  pious  parents,  he  took  no  definite  stand.     So 

*  ,  .    ,  The  Strife  of 

he  got  into  the  dark,  and  soon  gave  up  his  hope,  be-       ,    „  .^. 

coming,  as-  he  himself  said,  "  a  drunkard,  a  gambler 

and  as  bad  as  a  man  could  get."     He  came  to  a  chapel  meeting  one 

evening,  but  made  up  his  mind  that  it  was  no  place  for  him  : 

"I  concluded  that  I  must  get  out  of  that,  or  else  come  back  to 
Christ." 

For  several  evenings  he  stayed  in  his  tent  gambling.  One  day  a 
petition  of  the  soldiers  for  a  Chaplain  was  handed  him  for  his  signa- 


And  Thou,  our  Saviour,  God  Most  High,  And  oh,  when  Thou  dost  gather  thine 
Our  "Union"  bless,  and  grant,  we  pray,        Into  their  sinless,  blest  abode, 

To  be  in  times  of  trial  nigh,  May  we  meet  there  by  grace  divine 
To  guide  us  in  Thy  perfect  way.  In  one  unbroken  "  Brotherhood." 

CONQUERORS   THROUGH   HIM. 

Now  for  holiest  warfare  marshalled,  March  we  onward,  bravely  faithful, 

Let  the  song  of  gladness  swell  By  no  sordid  ease  beguiled, 

To  the  praise  of  Him  who  leads  us, —  Like  the  few  of  ancient  Sardis 

Him  who  doeth  all  things  well ;  Ours  be  garments  undefined : 

"  Christian  Union  ;  Then  in  holier, 

Christ,  our  Captain,"  Sweeter  "  Union," 

Be  our  strength  and  battle-cry.  We  shall  walk  with  Him  above. 

In  the  cause  of  Him  who  loved  us,  Now  let  lips  and  hearts  united 

Comes  there  suffering  or  shame,  In  the  glow  of  zealous  youth, 

Though  we  dwell  where  Satan's  seat  is,  Bless  the  name  of  God  our  Saviour, 

We  will  not  deny  His  name ;  Praise  His  goodness,  love  and  truth  : 

In  our  sacred  And  His  favor, 

"  Christian  Union,"  May  it  ever 

We  will  conquer,  led  by  Him.  Bless  our  "  Christian  Brotherhood." 
1  Of  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  Mass. 


206  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

ture.  He  was  gambling  at  the  time,  but  signed  his  name,  and  then 
began  to  think  upon  the  incongruity  of  a  gambler's  petition  for  a 
Chaplain.  He  was  troubled,  and  determined  to  go  to  meeting,  but 
for  some  time  was  kept  back  by  his  companions.  At  last  he  came, 
and  for  two  successive  evenings  asked  us  to  pray  for  him,  in  terms 
which  convinced  all  that  he  was  in  earnest.  On  the  third  evening 
he  told  us  in  broken  English  that  he  had  found  the  Saviour,  and 
must  forsake  his  old  habits.  His  comrades  hearing  of  it  abused  him, 
but  he  stood  firm,  and  asked  our  prayers  for  them.  While  I  was 
with  the  regiment  he  stood  well,  and  was  always  ready  to  take  up 
his  cross  and  follow  Christ. 

It  was  of  course  the  Delegate's  duty  to  minister  to  and 
labor  with  men  of  every  rank.  Mr.  H.  Morey1  writes 
of  an  interview  near  Warrenton,  with  a  Captain  and 
Surgeon  returning  from  their  leaves  of  absence  : 

The  Surgeon's  appearance  indicated  refinement  and  education;  but 
I  noticed  that  the  Captain  and  he  frequently  swore  as  they  talked.  I 
reproved  them  both,  somewhat  to  their  astonishment.  The  Surgeon 

said  he  meant  nothing  by  it  ;  it  was  a  habit,  —  he 
Sicearing,     in 


(j  wag  doi        .^      j   agked 
its    Theory    and 

him  if  he  was  satisfied  with  such  an  apology  ;  if  he 


was,  I  was  not  : 

"  Oh,  I'm  going  to  stop  and  be  good  one  of  these  days." 

"  That's  all  very  well  ;  but  you  have  confessed  that  the  habit  is  so 
deep  that  you  don't  know  when  you  are  indulging  in  it.  It  will  be 
harder  to  break  when  you  '  stop'  and  '  get  good.'  " 

He  told  me  of  his  father,  who  was  a  clergyman,  and  of  his  Chris 
tian  mother.  I  told  him  of  the  love  of  another  Father  whom  he  was 
offending.  He  was  touched  and  thanked  me;  while  I  prayed  in 
wardly  that  the  words  said  might  indeed  profit  him. 

The  Captain  said  he  had  been  a  "professor  of  religion"  before 
entering  the  army,  but  had  found  that  swearing  was  necessary  to 
govern  his  men,  so  his  "  profession  had  been  relieved  from  duty."  I 
told  him  that  I  had  often  seen  people  swearing  at  horses  and  mules, 


1  City  Missionary,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


CAMP    CONVALESCENT.  207 

but  I  had  never  noticed  either  party  improved  by  the  operation,  and 
was  certain  the  users  of  the  language  had  not  been. 

We  parted,  and  months  afterwards  I  met  him  near  the  Weldon 
railroad.  He  introduced  himself  by  asking  if  I  remembered  the 
talk  near  Warrenton.  I  told  him,  I  did. 

"I  am  the  Captain  you  spoke  to,"  was  his  reply;  "your  words  were 
not  forgotten,  and  I  have  come  to  think  as  you  did  then,  about  swear 
ing  at  men  and  mules  too." 

Before  entering  upon  the  story  of  the  "  Wilderness/' 
we  shall  glance  backward  upon  the  Commission's  work 
in  the  vicinity  of  Washington.  At  Camp  Convalescent 
there  seems  to  have  been  a  continuous  revival.  Agents 

o 

might  be  called  to  other  fields ;  new  Delegates  might 
come  in  place  of  older  ones ;  still  the  precious  work  went 
on.  Rev.  Mr.  Williams,  who  visited  the  camp  in  Jan 
uary  of  this  Winter,  gives  the  story  of  one  of  the 
nightly  gatherings : 

The  bell  was  ringing  for  meeting,  as  we  were  getting  a  hasty  sup 
per.  Entering  the  chapel,  we  found  it  filled  by  an  audience  of  at 
least  eight  hundred  persons.  Within  an  hour  forty- three  had  spoken, 
ten  or  twelve  hymns  were  sung,  and  several  prayers 

offered.    It  was  a  memorable  meeting.    The  soldiers'          Camp  Conm- 

lescent    Testimo- 
expressions  were  peculiar  and  striking.  n-eg 

"  Brethren,"  said  one,  "  I  know  I  have  passed  from 
death  unto  life,  for  I  love  the  brethren.     I  feel  to  pray, — '  Create  ever 
within  me  a  clean  heart,  and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me.' " 

"  One  year  ago,"  said  another,  "  I  could  drink  as  much  whisky 
and  swear  as  much  as  any  one  in  my  company ;  now  I  trust  I  am  a 
Christian." 

In  a  like,  straight-out  soldier's  way  they  spoke  on  till  the  hour  had 
passed.  At  the  close  of  the  exercises  very  many  came  forward, 
shaking  hands  with  us,  as  if  they  had  always  known  us,  and  telling 
us  more  of  their  religious  experience.  Among  these  was  a  man 
whom  we  had  known  a  year  before,  in  the  hospital  of  the  First  Corps 
near  Acquia  Creek.  Then  he  was  an  infidel,  awfully  profane,  un- 


208  CHEISTIAX    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

willing  to  attend  any  meeting,  or  to  converse  upon  religious  subjects. 
Now  lie  was  a  believer,  ready  to  testify  for  Christ,  and  anxious  by 
earnest  labor  to  atone  for  past  neglect  and  sin. 

R,ev.  F.  N.  Peloubet,1  gives  a  graphic  account  of  work 
at  the  Deserters'  Barracks,  at  Camp  Convalescent,  during 
February  and  March.  It  shows  the  varied  work  of  the 
Delegate,  and  the  difficulties  and  temptations  of  the 
soldier  : 

I  went  as  usual  to  the  Deserters'  Barracks  on  the  morning  of 
March  2cl.  I  took  out  a  little  tract  —  Will  You  Enlist  f  —  to  read  ;  some 
objected  : 

"  We've  heard  it  before  ;  we  can  read  that  any 

y  ;  let'S  hC£l1'  tbe  Testiiment  " 

"  Why,  you  can  read  that  any  day,"  said  I. 

"  Yes,  but  we  want  it  explained  ;  we've  read  it,  but  don't  under 
stand  it.  The  other  things  are  made  up  ;  we  want  something  we 
know  is  true." 

So  I  read  two  chapters  in  St.  John's  First  Epistle,  —  standing  the 
while  on  a  board  between  two  bunks.  Before  long  a  young  man 
named  Isaac  Free  objected  — 

"  'Seems  to  me  a  man  must  be  perfect,  else  he  can't  go  to  heaven." 

"  That  can't  be,"  said  I  ;  "  for  then  none  would  go  there,  since  none 
are  perfect." 

"  Well,  you  said  so  Sabbath  last,  anyhow." 
TJie   Doctrine  0th  vergeg  of  the  lgt  cliaptei% 


of  Perfection. 

and  then  the  Gth  verse  of  chapter  3d,  —  comparing 

them. 

"  Well,  they  contradict,  don't  they  ?  "  Isaac  asked. 

As  familiarly  as  I  could  I  showed  that  they  did  not;  and  also 
how  Peter  and  David,  though  sinners,  went  to  heaven. 

"  But  it  says  there,  '  The  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die.'  How's 
that?" 


1  See  p.  50. 


DESERTERS'    BARRACKS,    CAMP    CONVALESCENT.        209 

I  told  him  about  Christ's  salvation,  and  how  pardoning  a  criminal 

did  not  make  a  judge  a  liar.     Isaac  came  back  to  the  strife  within 

his  own  heart: 

"  I've  tried  to  be  good,  and  I  can't.     I've  suffered  a  good  deal,  and 

sin  don't  give  any  peace.  That's  all  the  hell  I  believe  in." 
"  Isn't  that  enough  to  make  you  want  freedom  from  it?" 
I  told  him  my  own  experience ;  how  once,  the  more  I  had  tried  to 

be  good,  the  worse  it  had  seemed. 

"  That's  it,"  said  he ;  "  who  can  live  like  a  Christian  here?" 
"But  you  can;  only  you  must  find  the  Way, — Christ,  whose  blood 

cleanses  from  all  sin.     Do  you  really  want  to  be  a  Christian?     Do 

you  ever  pray  ?  " 
"  No." 

"  And  you  expect  to  become  a  Christian  without  asking?" 
Here  our  conversation  rested ;  but  he  came  to  me  before  I  left  the 

barracks,  and  told  me  his  story.     Born  in  New  York,  his  parents, 

who  were  both  Christians,  had  died  when  he  was  quite  young.     He 

went  to  live  with  an  uncle,  who  put  no  restraint  upon 

i-         ,.  Ti   T  ,«         •!  -,  nt-f\          The  Confession. 

his  actions.     Enlisting  in  the  regular  army  in  1859, 

In?  met  much  hard  company.  During  the  New  York  riots  his  regi 
ment  was  sent  there,  and  stationed  at  the  Battery.  A  comrade  per 
suaded  him  to  run  the  guard  at  night;  they  passed  the  hours  in  sin. 
While  drunk  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  his  false  friend  induced 
him  to  go  to  Philadelphia.  He  did  not  dare  to  return,  but  found 
work,  and  was  soon  arrested. 

"  I  haven't  known  an  hour's  peace  since  I  deserted,"  said  the  poor 
fellow. 

"  Is  the  punishment  hard  here?" 

"Oh,  it  isn't  that;  it's  the  disgrace,  the  disgrace!  after  fighting 
well,  to  come  to  this ! " 

He  had  sworn  already  never  to  touch  drink  again.  I  strove  hard 
to  persuade  him  to  pray: 

"  It  won't  do  for  me, — a  deserter  a  Christian !  They'd  always 
throw  it  in  my  face." 

"But  Christ  knows  all  better  than 'they;'  He  will  forgive  and 
befriend  you." 

Eight  days  later  I  saw  him  again.  He  had  been  praying  all  night, 
but  there  was  no  answer.  I  told  him  to  keep  praying,  and  the  light 

14 


210  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

would  come.  He  pressed  my  hand  and  asked  me  to  add  my  petitions 
to  his  own. 

Rev.  Edward  Hawes1  preached  at  the  Barracks  one  Sunday  morn 
ing  in  March.  After  service  we  distributed  one  hundred  Black  Val 
ley  Railroad  Guides, — a  vivid  picture  tract,  illustrating  the  evils  of 

intemperance.     It  took  amazingly.     A  deserter,  who 
The  Two  Eoads.    ,      ,  , 

had  been  an  engineer  once,  said  they  were  asking  him 

to  run    on   the   J5.    V.  R.    It.,    at   good  pay ;    but    he   thought   he 

wouldn't  get  his  wages,  and  would  have  to  go  on  the  train  ;  so  he  was 

holding  on  to  the  other  road.     Pointing  upwards,  I  asked  if  the  road 

he  had  chosen  ended  there;  he  answered,  "Yes." 

A  short  time  since  a  soldier  at  the  barracks  in  a  drunken  fit  got  a 

comrade  to  write  to  his  betrothed  that  he  was  dead !  Letters  of 
grief  and  inquiry  came  at  once.  He  replied  himself 
that  he  had  only  been  dead-drunk !  and  in  a  few 

days  learned  to  his  horror,  that  the  girl  was  dead,  from  the  shock 

which  the  first  letter  gave ! 

While  laboring  at  Camp  Convalescent,  Mr.  Peloubet 
met  a  Pennsylvania  cavalryman  from  Carbon  County, 
named  Sergeant  Marcy,  who  told  him  his  story : 

He  had  once  joined  the  church,  but  was  only  half  persuaded  at 
the  time,  and  afterwards  opposed  religion  in  numerous  ways.  His 
wife,  an  earnest  Christian,  vainly  strove  to  restore  him.  Shocked 

deeply  by  much  of  the  wickedness  in  the  army,  he 
The  Little  Child  and  a  comra(je  mutually  agreed  to  mark  down  the 
in  the  Kingdom.  . 

number  ot  times  they  swore  during  each  clay.     Ihe 

result  appalled  him,  and  he  determined  to  stop.  His  wife's  letters 
made  him  uneasy ;  so  one  Monday  evening  he  went  to  the  prayer 
meeting.  The  sermon  made  no  particular  impression,  but  some  re 
marks  following  it  affected  him  deeply.  He  determined  to  attend 
the  meeting  every  night  that  week,  and,  though  once  or  twice  regret 
ting  his  resolve,  carried  it  through.  His  mental  agony  and  darkness 
were  increased  by  certain  morbid  reflections  about  committing  the 


7  Pastor  then   of  Congregational   Church,  Waterville,  Me.  ;   now  of  Central 
Church,  Philadelphia. 


CAMP    STONEMAN.  211 

sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  A  pious  bunk-mate  was  much  dis 
tressed  on  his  account.  At  last  the  Lord's  words  about  no  man 
entering  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  unless  he  was  a  little  child,  brought 
him  to  see  that  he  was  helpless  as  a  child  —  that  he  could  only  put  his 
hand  into  that  of  Christ,  and  say  trustfully,  "  Lead  Thou  me  on."  l 
At  once  his  whole  life  was  illuminated.  One  day,  while  repairing 
and  cleaning  the  stables,  some  of  his  comrades  were  swearing  and 
finding  fault  at  the  dirty  work.  He  did  not  like  the  task,  but  sud 
denly  it  occurred  to  him  that  Jesus  was  born  in  a  manger,  and  his 
work  at  once  grew  bright  and  glad. 

Possibly  the  Lord's  words  about  children  only  enter 
ing  the  Kingdom  of  God  were  never  more  clearly  illus 
trated  than  sometimes  in  the  hour  of  the  soldier's  death  : 

In  Camp  Stoneman  Hospital  during  March,  a  soldier  lay  dying. 
He  was  from  Michigan,  and  but  eighteen  years  old.  Mr.  C  --  ,  a 
Delegate,  learning  that  he  would  not  recover,  hastened  to  his  side. 

"I  am  very  sick  ;  pray  for  me,"  said  the  soldier. 

"  Have  you  a  Christian  mother  ?"  Chim 


"  Oh,  yes  ;  my  father  and  mother  are  both  Chris 
tians,  and  so  are  my  sisters.    My  brother  is  a  minister.    I  wish  I  was 
a  Christian,  but  I'm  afraid  I'm  not." 

I  prayed  with  him,  after  which  he  himself  offered  a  most  fervent 
petition.  As  I  read  St.  John's  14th  chapter,  he  anticipated  me, 
showing  his  knowledge  of  the  Bible.  I  stayed  with  him  a  long  time  ; 
together  we  sang  — 

"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood," 
and 

"  Eock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me." 
Just  before  he  died  he  called  the  ward-master  to  him,  and  lifting 


1  "  Lead,  kindly  light,  amid  th.'  encircling  gloom 

Lead  Thou  me  on  ; 
The  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home ; 

Lead  Thou  me  on." — John  Henry  Newman. 


212  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

his  weak  arms  put  them  round  the  man's  neck,  and  kissed  him. 
Looking  up,  he  said,  "  I  love  everybody."  He  prayed  again,  and 
afterwards  felt  much  exhausted.  The  nurse  told  him  to  try  and 
sleep  a  little.  They  lifted  him  gently  upon  his  left  side  ;  his  thoughts 
went  back  to  her  whose  memory  lingers  longest  upon  earth  ;  like  as 
a  child  might  have  done,  he  folded  his  arms  across  his  breast,  and  in 
a  very  low  voice  repeated  distinctly  — 

"  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep  ; 

I  pray  the  Lord  ray  soul  to  keep  ; 
If  I  should  die  before  I  wake, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take." 

The  light  went  out  of  the  dying  eyes  ;  the  pale  lips  moved  never 
again  ;  —  the  answer  to  the  simple  petition  had  come  quickly  indeed. 
"  Except  ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not 
enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  God." 

Some  extracts  from  the  experience  of  Rev.  Edward 
Hawes,  at  Camp  Convalescent,  may  close  the  present 
chapter  : 

Many  hearts  were  made  glad  one  evening,  by  seeing  Sergeant  Mor 
rison  kneeling  for  prayers.  He  was  well  known  throughout  the  camp 
as  a  wild,  reckless  man  ;  his  Christian  wife  omitted  no  opportunity  of 

writing  to  him  about  coming  to  Jesus.    In  answer  to 
Hiding  behind       ,  .  . 

"  her  entreaties  he  had  determined  to  attend  regularly 


the  evening  meetings  at  the  chapel.     To  many  of  us 
his  unexpected  act  was  surprising.     He  said  to  me  afterwards  — 

"  I  had  more  feeling  than  many  supposed,  for  I  knew  that  I  was  a 
sinner  who  needed  a  Saviour.  While  you  were  preaching  that  night, 
until  near  the  close  of  the  sermon,  I  was  continually  thinking,  'Well, 
I  stand  that  pretty  well  ;'  but  at  last  you  said  you  wanted  to  hide 
yourself  behind  Christ,  and  let  Him  speak  through  you  ;  —  and  He 
did  speak,  and  I  couldn't  stand  under  it." 

At  another  time,  referring  to  his  conviction,  he  told  me  — 
"  I  was  trying  to  do  something  myself;  but  it  is  good  to  become  a 
little  child,  and  cry  for  one's  own  helplessness." 


CAMP    CONVALESCENT.  213 

He  was  so  strong,  stalwart  and  large  that  the  words  seemed  to 
have  an  added  meaning  in  his  case.  He  came  often  to  converse 
with  me;  I  always  enjoyed  the  interviews.  He  told  me  at  our 
good-bye — 

"  I  shall  never,  never  forget  the  time  when  you  '  hid'  yourself  be 
hind  Jesus." 

Some  of  the  expressions  of  the  men  in  the  meetings  were  wonder 
ful  for  their  concentration  of  feeling  and  power.  A  soldier  rises  to 
speak  only  these  solemn  words — 

"  I  left  a  gray-haired  mother  at  home  praying  for 

.  ,    J  T  ,  ^T        ,  Enlisting    for 

me;  she  said  to  me  as  I  came  away,    You  have  en-       ~,   . 

listed  in  the  service  of  your  country,  now  I  beg  you 
to  enlist  for  Christ.'     All  her  letters  asked  this  question,  '  Have  you 
enlisted  for  Christ  yet?'     I  thank  God,  Jesus  has  found  the  way  to 
my  poor  heart." 

At  a  meeting  in  the  Cavalry  Camp  a  new  convert  rises  to  say — 

"  I  rejoice  that  I  have  found  the  Saviour,  but  my  wife  is  not  a 
Christian — "  and  then  broke  down. 

A  comrade  is  up  instantly,  with  the  words —  The  Remedy. 

"  Boys,  let's  get  right  down  here,  and  pray  for  his 
wife,"  and  kneel  they  did,  while  an  earnest  prayer  ascended. 

A  Maine  soldier  in  the  hospital  says  to  us — 

"  If  I  had  been  impenitent  since  being  a  soldier,  I  don't  think  I 
would  have  been  alive ;  I  would  have  been  so  impa 
tient  and  restless.     I  have  tried  to  give  up  all  to 
God,  and,  even  when  sickest,  to  trust  Him." 

At  one  of  the  meetings  a  soldier  prays  in  his  mother-tongue, — Ger 
man, — and  then  tells  his  experience : 

" Brethren,  I  shall  try  to  say  a  few  words;  the  English  goes  rather 

hard  with  me, — but  I  want  you  to  understand  that  I 
,          T  T  .  ,     ,     ~    ,  L     ,  "Hard  on  Sin- 

love  J  esus.    I  was  once  very  wicked ;  God  took  away      ners  „ 

a  child ;  I  promised  to  reform,  but  didn't ;  then  He 

took  away  another ;  then  my  stubborn  heart  was  broken,  and  I  found 

Jesus." 

He  told  us  of  a  sermon  preached  by  a  minister,  who  was  "  hard  on 
sinners,"  and  whose  house,  for  some  time  after,  he  was  afraid  to  pass, 
lest  he  should  come  out  to  talk  with  him.  After  his  change  he  tried 


214  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

successfully  to  awaken  his  wife  and  children  ;   before  leaving  for  the 
war  he  sat  down  with  them  at  the  table  of  the  Lord. 

At  the  prayer  meeting  at  Cavalry  Camp  the  night  before  some  of 
the  men  were  to  join  Kilpatrick,  they  put  their  arms  around  each 

other's  necks,  and  sang  with  deep  feeling — 
The    Country 

Above. 

"Shall  we  know  each  other  there?" 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE     WESTERN  ARMIES. 

THE    CAMPAIGNS    IN    TENNESSEE    AND    GEORGIA. 
1863—  December   1863. 


GEN.  ROSECKANS'  long  delay  at  Murfreesboro'  after 
Stone  River  had  been  dictated  by  the  necessities  of  his 
position  and  communications.  In  June,  1863,  he  found 
Bragg's  army  entrenched  in  front  of  him  at  Shelbyville 
and  Tullahoma,  and  towards  the  close  of  the  month 
began  a  movement  for  his  dislodgment.  In  spite  of  a 
continuous  rain-storm,  which  materially  delayed  the 
advancing  columns,  within  nine  days  Middle  Tennessee 
was  cleared  of  the  Confederate  army,  and  Shelbyville 
and  Tullahoma  occupied  without  any  serious  engage 
ment.  Rosecrans  pushed  forward  his  light  troops  to 
Stevenson,  Ala.,  on  his  right,  and  began  repairing  the 
railroad  to  that  place  and  to  Bridgeport.  It  was  not 
until  the  middle  of  August  that  our  army  again  moved 
forward  in  force. 

The  General  Field  Agent  returned  from  his  visit  to 
the  forces  operating  against  Vicksburg  in  July,  and 
writes  from  Murfreesboro7,  the  grand  army  centre  before 
Rosecrans'  movement  upon  Tullahoma  : 

A   soldier   from   the  Anderson   Troop   (15th   Penna.   Cav.)   was 

215 


216  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

brought  late  one  afternoon  to  the  General  Hospital  outside  of  this 
place.     It  was  his  first  experience  of  this  kind ;  more  desolate  by  far 

to  him  than  any  picture  of  ours  can  make  it,  taken, 

"Coming     to  ,  ,. 

the  Waters  "  weak  and  desponding  as  he  was,  from  among  com 

rades  who  enlisted  with  him  in  Philadelphia,  into 
the  company  of  strangers.  As  the  nurse,  who  has  lifted  him  from 
the  ambulance  and  has  laid  him  on  his  cot,  is  helping  him  undress, 
the  cavalryman  asks,  with  a  hesitating  voice — 

"  Nurse,  do  you  ever  read  in  the  wards  ?" 

The  nurse  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Well,  nurse,  I  wish  you  would  read  a  bit  for  me  this  evening." 

"  What  shall  I  read  ?" 

The  soldier  asks  him  to  take  a  Bible  from  his  knapsack :  "  Find 
that  chapter  about  '  Coming  to  the  waters.'  " 

The  nurse  was  a  Christian,  and  turned  readily  to  the  55th  chapter 
of  Isaiah,  reading  through  the  first  verse  :  "  Ho,  every  one  that 
thirsteth, — come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that  hath  no  money, — come 
ye,  buy  and  eat ;  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk — without  money  and 
without  price." 

"  That's  it,"  says  the  sick  man ;  "  that's  it — '  come  to  the  waters.'  " 

As  the  nurse  was  continuing  to  read  through  the  chapter,  the 
cavalryman  stopped  him,  and  said — 

"  Bead  that  verse  again,  nurse  : — '  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth.' " 

He  read  it  again,  and  then  again  at  the  man's  earnest  request. 

"  Now,  that  '11  do,  nurse ;  do  you  ever  pray  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  can  pray." 

"  Will  you  offer  a  little  prayer  for  me  ?" 

The  nurse  knelt  by  his  cot  and  offered  the  request  which  the  soldier 
dictated.  The  next  morning  he  asked  again  for  the  reading  of  Scrip 
ture  ;  the  nurse  asked,  what  he  should  read  : 

"  I  want  to  hear  again  about  that  '  Coming  to  the  waters.'  " 

He  read  it  to  him  twice  that  morning,  and  twice  in  the  evening, 
and  prayed  with  him.  The  next  morning  he  read  it  again. 

"I  must  pray  for  myself,  nurse,"  the  cavalryman  said;  and  he 
asked  to  be  placed  in  the  attitude  of  prayer  on  his  cot ;  he  would 
not  be  denied  the  privilege.  They  placed  him  on  his  knees  with  his 
hand  on  the  head  of  his  iron  cot.  He  began  praying  for  himself  in 
the  words  of  the  petition  of  Our  Lord  ; — and  so  the  Messenger  found 


MURFEEESBORO' NASHVILLE.  217 

him,  and  taking  him  up  home,  "  showed"  him  "  a  pure  river  of  water 
of  life,  clear  as  crystal,  proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  of 
the  Lamb." 

A  week  or  two  before  I  had  met  in  Louisville  a  relative  of  this 
cavalryman,  who  was  vainly  trying  to  get  through  the  lines  to 
minister  to  him.  I  took  the  soldier's  address,  and  very  soon  after 
visited  the  Murfreesboro'  Hospital.  The  nurse  related  the  affecting 
story,  which  was  at  once  communicated  to  the  soldier's  mother  in 
Philadelphia.  She  would  never  have  learned  in  any  other  way,  most 
probably,  how  her  boy  died.  Certainly  in  the  last  great  day  there 
will  be  many  surprises  to  mothers  and  fathers  and  friends,  from  the 
unveiling  of  histories  told  to  no  human  ears ;  which  He  only  noted, 
who  "  shall  bring  into  judgment  every  secret  thing." 

The  same  month  Kev.  Mr.  Smith  wrote  to  the  Bible 
Society  Record  about  the  distribution  of  the  Scriptures 
at  various  points  throughout  the  army.  He  mentioned 
this  incident,  which  occurred  at  a  meeting  in  Convales 
cent  Camp,  Nashville  : 

A  middle-aged  man  rose  in  the  crowd  and  held  up  a  little  book : 
"  Soldiers,  I  have  a  book  here  which  I  suspect  none  of  you  have 
money  enough  to  buy.     I  never  read  it ;  I  don't  know  how  to  read  ; 
but  I  couldn't  let  this  book  go.     They  tell  me  it  is 
God's  Word;  that  this  is  where  we  find  what  Jesus          "Tt  Eeads  °f 

TfKSq/Q    " 

says:  and  I  love  to  feel  it  in  my  hands  and  press  it 
to  my  bosom,  and  put  it  under  my  head  at  night.  It  reads  of  Jesus ! 
What  could  I  do  without  Jesus,  and  how  should  I  know  about  Him, 
if  it  was  not  for  this  book,  which  somebody  can  read  ?  Sometimes  I 
find  a  good  friend  and  take  him  by  the  arm  and  say,  *  Come,  go  with 
me  a  little  way ; '  and  when  we  get  by  ourselves,  I  pull  out  my  little 
book  and  say,  'I  have  here  a  nice  book:  I  want  you  to  read  a  little 
with  me.'  He  says,  '  Where  shall  I  read  ?'  I  say,  '  The  7th  of  Mat 
thew.'  Then,  when  he  has  read  that,  I  say,  'Just  a  little  more, — the 
1st  chapter  of  James.'  I  have  almost  learned  these  two  chapters, 
and  then  I  am  going  to  take  another.  I  advise  you  all  to  get  a 
Testament  from  the  Christian  Commission." 


218  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

He  spoke  modestly,  but  with  deep  feeling ;  and  when  he  held  up 
his  hook  and  pressed  it  to  his  heart,  the  tears  dropping  down  his 
cheeks  told  how  deep  was  his  love  for  the  Book  that  "  reads  of  Jesus." 

In  the  hospital  at  Tullahoma  Mr.  Smith  found  a 
Confederate  prisoner,  whose  story  illustrates  the  influ 
ence  of  God's  Word  over  angry  passions  and  a  wander 
ing  heart: 

He  was  lying  side  by  side  with  our  own  soldiers,  and  I  should  not 
have  known,  from  his  treatment  and  appearance,  but  that  he  be 
longed  to  them.     When  he  learned  that  I  was  engaged  in  the  Chris 
tian  Commission,  he  pressed  my  hand  very  earnestly, 
Forgiveness.  .        ,  ^ 

saying  he  was  glad  to  see  me.     lurning  to  the  nurse, 

he  asked — 

"Nurse,  has  my  bundle  come  yet?" 

"  It  will  be  here  shortly,"  was  the  reply ;  "  don't  you  worry  about 
it ;  it  is  all  safe." 

"  I  suppose  it  is,  but  I  wish  it  was  here."  Turning  to  me,  he  added, 
"  When  they  brought  me  here  I  felt  scattered  like,  and  left  behind 
me  my  bundle  of  things,  and  my  Hymn-book  and  Testament  are 
tied  up  in  it.  I  have  been  looking  and  waiting  for  'em,  and  'pears 
like  I  was  lost  when  they  don't  come.  One  of  your  Commission 
gentlemen  brought  'em  to  me  when  I  was  under  guard ;  and  I  have 
read  'em  over  a  heap  of  times,  and  'pears  like  I  wasn't  the  same  sort  of 
man  now.  I  wouldn't  have  believed  last  month  that  I  should  lie  in 
my  bed  and  pray  for  D .  He  is  a  very  bad  man,  and  it's  be 
cause  he  has  told  false  on  me  that  your  soldiers  had  me  arrested. 
But  I  have  been  praying  for  him  ;  and  just  now  when  you  came  to 

the  door  I  was  asking  God  to  forgive  old  man  D ,  and  bless 

him  like  He  does  me.  Y'  see  I've  been  reading  that  whar  it  says, 
Love  your  enemies  and  pray  for  them  that  is  spiteful  'gin  you.  My 
wife's  been  a  praying  Presbyterian  ever  since  I  knew  her.  I  want 
to  see  her  now  more  than  ever.  I  '  lowed  she'd  set  a  heap  on  that 
Testament,  and  I'll  take  it  home  with  me." 

I  took  the  address  of  his  wife,  and  by  means  of  our  lines  of  cou 
riers,  sent  a  letter  with  the  glad  news  of  her  husband's  conversion, 
direct  to  her  own  door. 


TULLAHOMA.         .  219 

Hev.  Benj.  Parsons,1  who  was  put  in  charge  of  the 
Held  work  at  the  front  in  the  temporary  absence  of  the 
General  Agent,  went  forward  with  the  forces  following 
up  Bragg's  retreat,  from  Tullahoma  to  Cowan  and 
Stevenson.  He  relates  a  soldier's  testimony  in  a  meet 
ing  at  Tullahoma  in  August : 

"I  am  glad,  my  comrades,  to  be  here.  When  I  enlisted  I  had 
many  companions  whom  I  well  knew,  but  they  are  gone.  Several 
of  us  entered  into  a  covenant  to  hold  together  in  the  Christian  life 
while  in  the  army,  and  especially  to  hold  on  to 
Christ.  Nearly  all  of  them  are  gone.  Some  lie  at  "Holding  on 
Shiloh  ;  some  fell  at  Perry  ville, — and  some  are  sleep 
ing  their  last  sleep  at  Stone  River.  I  feel  quite  alone, — and  that  I 
too  shall  soon  go  to  join  my  companions,  who  are  now  where  war 
and  bloodshed  are  for  ever  unknown  ;  where  there  shall  be  no  broken 
bonds,  no  partings,  no  more  death.  Comrades,  pray  for  me,  that  I 
may  hold  on  and  hold  out  faithful  to  Christ  even  to  the  last." 

Sometimes  there  were  sad  testimonies  to  hear : 

I  was  holding  the  chilling  hands  of  a  soldier  of  the  75th  Indiana 
Regiment,  in  the  Tullahoma  hospital.  I  bade  him  instantly  cast 
himself  into  Jesus'  arms,  telling  him  that  He  was  near  to  receive 
him.  "  Trust  yourself,"  said  I,  "  my  dear  boy,  to 

Jesus."  "He  is  noi 

Here  " 
He  opened  his  eyes  wearily,  and  looked  at  me : 

"  He  is  not  here !  He  is  not  here ! " 

"  Yes,  yes,  He  is  here  ;  believe  in  Him,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved." 
Once  more  he  articulated,  "  Not  here !  not  here ! "  and  with  the 
hopeless  words  upon  his  lips  he  died. 

A  little  incident  of  Eev.  Mr.  Parsons'  experience  at 
Winchester  is  a  picture  of  touching  loneliness  and  a 
simple  remedy  for  it : 


1  Pastor  of  First  Congregational  Church,  Windsor,  Conn. 


220  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

A  drummer-boy  came  into  our  office  and  told  us  lie  had  received  no 
letter  for  two  years.  He  was  an  orphan  and  had  lived  in  Brooklyn. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  get  a  letter?"  we  asked. 
"  Oh,  yes,  indeed  I  would." 

"  Well,  well,  my  son,"  said  Rev.  Mr.  Gushing,1  "  I 
think  I  have  one  for  you." 

Opening  a  comfort-bag,  he  took  out  a  letter  written  by  a  Sabbath- 
school  pupil  in  the  North,  and  gave  it  to  the  lad.  As  he  received 
this  token  that  even  he  had  been  remembered  by  somebody,  he  wept 
freely. 

August  2d,  Mr.  Parsons  writes  from  Cowan  Station  : 

This  afternoon  several  officers  called  on  Col.  Scribner,2  with  whom 
I  was  stopping.  In  the  midst  of  a  varied  and  interesting  conversa 
tion,  Col.  Scribner  rallied  Brig.-Gen.  Beattie3  of  Ohio,  respecting  a 

Bible  given  him  by  his  wife,  saying  — 

i   e-   ovmg          fl         -       ag  frQS^  anj  ciean  as  wnen  yOU  received 

J 


General. 

it  from  her  hands." 

"  Colonel,"  replied  the  General,  "  I  can  say  what  I  fear  you 
cannot,  —  I  have  not  let  pass  a  single  day  since  I  entered  the  service 
without  reading  it." 

"  Upon  your  honor?" 

"  Upon  my  honor,  sir." 

"What,  —  in  those  fighting  days  at  Stone  River?" 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  in  those  fights  I  did  not  fail  to  read  my  daily  chapter  ; 
and  if  you'll  examine  my  Bible,  you  will  find  every  chapter  marked 
in  daily  order." 

The  answer  was  so  calm  and  serious,  that  no  one  present  could 
doubt  the  words  of  the  speaker. 

Just  here  the  reminiscences  of  this  army  are  rich 
with  Bible  incidents,  on  account  of  the  constant  work  of 


1  Kev.  S.  A.  dishing,  Shrewsbury,  Mass. ;  member  of  N.  E.  Conference,  Meth. 
Episcopal  Church. 

2  Commanding  First  Brigade,  Gen.  Rousseau's  Division. 

3  Recently  elected  to  Congress  from  the  8th  District  of  Ohio. 


LOUISVILLE.  221 

Scripture  distribution.     Rev.  Mr.  Smith,  writing  to  the 
Bible  Society  Record,  relates  the  following : 

In  Louisville,  last  Sabbath,  I  found  in  the  barracks  a  German 
Orderly,  who  replied  to  my  question,  "Would  you  like  a  Testament  /" 
with  a  very  doubtful  query — 

"  You  have  no  Bible,  I  suppose  ?"  The  Whole  Bi- 

"  No,  I  have  only  the  Testament." 

"  I  have  that,"  said  he ;  "I  want  a  German  Bible. 
I  would  give  my  next  month's  pay,  when   I  get  him,  for  a  Bible  in 
my  pocket." 

I  told  him  to  call  at  the  Bible  Depository  in  the  morning,  and  I 
would  give  him  one.  Early  the  next  day,  while  I  was  at  breakfast, 
there  was  a  call  for  me ;  it  proved  to  be  from  the  Orderly,  who  had 
come  for  his  Bible.  I  gave  him  his  choice  out  of  the  stock,  and  a 
happier  man  I  have  not  seen  for  months.  He  had  brought  along 
with  him  a  brother  Orderly,  once  a  preacher,  who,  while  on  duty  at  a 
hospital  in  Louisville,  had  loaned  his  Bible — the  only  one  there — till 
it  was  so  worn  that  with  his  poor  eyesight  he  could  no  longer  read  it. 
The  convalescents,  he  told  me,  used  to  take  turns  with  his  Bible,  and 
sometimes /we  or  six  applicants  would  put  down  their  names  for  the  next 
reading.  I  gave  this  man  also  a  Bible  of  his  own  selection. 

On  August  16th,  the  advance  from  Stevenson  upon 
Chattanooga  began.  Movements  were  so  prompt  and 
well  arranged  that  when  Bragg  saw  the  last  corps  of 
Hosecrans'  army  crossing  the  Tennessee,  he  abandoned 
his  stronghold  on  September  8th,  and  retired  southward 
into  Georgia.  Rosecrans,  following  too  hastily,  soon 
found  out  that  the  Confederate  army  was  being  increased 
by  reinforcements  from  all  directions :  Buckner  had  been 
called  from  East  Tennessee  ;  Walker's  Division  from 
Johnson's  army  in  Mississippi,  and  Longstreet's  veterans 
from  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  The  Union 
forces  were  rapidly  concentrated  along  Chickamauga 
Creek,  and  here  on  September  19th  the  battle  was 


222  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

begun.  On  the  evening  of  the  20th,  the  enemy  con 
clusively  having  the  advantage,  Rosecrans  withdrew 
within  the  Chattanooga  entrenchments.  Bragg  followed, 
but  finding  the  works  too  strong,  attempted  to  starve  our 
army  out.  In  October  Rosecrans  was  relieved  by  Gen. 
Thomas ;  and  shortly  after  the  Armies  of  the  Cumber 
land,  Tennessee  and  Ohio  were  made  into  the  Military 
Division  of  the  Mississippi, — all  under  the  command  of 
General  U.  S.  Grant.  Two  corps  from  the  Potomac 
had  in  the  meantime  reinforced  the  Army  of  the  Cum 
berland. 

Early  in  October,  Rev.  B.  W.  Chidlaw,  writing  from 
Stevenson,  tells  a  story  of  the  value  of  some  little  hos 
pital  comforts  : 

One  Hoosier  boy,  not  over  twenty  years  old,  lay  sick  with  a  touch 
of  the  fever  and  ague,  an  affliction  from  which  I  had  myself  some 
times  suffered  at  home : 

"  What  did  mother  do  for  you  when  you  had  these 
The  Soldiers'  ,,  „„ 

™  spells  at  home  r 

Tea-party. 

"  Oh,  she  used  to  make  me  a  good  cup  of  tea,  and 
such  nice  toast." 

"  Why,  that's  just  what  my  mother  used  to  give  me.  And  didn't 
it  help  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  almost  always." 

"  Why,  don't  you  get  tea  and  toast  here  ?" 

"  Oh,  the  tea  isn't  what  mother  used  to  give  me,  and  the  toast  isn't 
the  same  at  all." 

"  Well,"  thought  I,  "  you  shall  have  some  that's  good,  if  it's  to 
be  had." 

So,  going  to  the  Commission's  quarters,  I  soon  found  myself  dipping 
into  a  chest  of  real,  genuine  black  tea,  and  a  cask  of  sweetest  loaf 
sugar  by  its  side,  and  a  box  of  condensed  milk.  Then,  repairing  to 
the  government  bakery,  I  secured  a  nice  loaf  of  bread,  and  took  it 
to  the  establishment  in  the  rear,  where  the  cook  was.  I  began  telling 


STEVENSON  I    NASHVILLE.  223 

him  what  I  wanted,  and  asking  for  the  privilege  of  his  fire  and  uten 
sils  to  do  my  work,  when  he  interrupted  me  with — 

"  In  dis  kitchen  I  cooks  and  you  talks." 

So  he  took  the  knife,  sliced  the  bread  and  toasted  it,  while  we 
talked  of  Jesus  and  His  religion.  The  tea  and  toast  were  at  last 
made ;  the  condensed  milk  was  used  instead  of  butter,  and  there  was 
a  delicious-looking  article  to  carry  to  the  hospital. 

"  My  friend,"  said  I  to  the  Indiana  boy,  "  wake  up,  I  have  some 
thing  nice  for  you." 

"  Why,  preacher,  ain't  there  milk  in  that  tea  ?" 

"Certainly." 

"  Why,"  he  asked  in  astonishment,  "  does  the  Christian  Commission 
keep  cows  down  here?" 

"  Better  than  that,  my  boy ;  they  have  gone  all  the  way  to  the  old 
cow  at  home,  and  it's  all  right.  Now  sit  up  and  eat  and  drink." 

And  he  did  to  his  heart's  content — indeed,  I  am  afraid  he  ate 
too  much.  A  soldier  close  by  said — 

"  Chaplain,  can  you  give  me  a  little  tea  and  toast,  too  ?"  "And 
me,  too?"  said  another,  and  another,  until  it  was  like  a  chorus  all 
through  the  room. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  we'll  have  a  general  tea-party." 

And  we  did.  The  old  cook  was  notified ;  he  did  the  toast  up  brown, 
and  the  hot,  smoking  tea  was  delicious.  We  had  a  glorious  tea- 
party  there ! 

Rev.  Mr.  Smith  relates  a  Nashville  story  ef  this 
time: 

Standing  on  Fort  Negley  once,  I  noticed  a  squad  of  soldiers  follow 
ing  an  ambulance  to  the  grave  of  a  comrade.  Two  of  the  artillery 
men  belonging  to  the  fort  were  remarking  upon  the  burial. 

"  There's  another  poor  fellow  got  his  discharge," 

"Not     Dis- 

said  one*  charged" 

"  Not  that,"  replied  his  comrade. 

"  Well,  if  not  discharged,  I'd  like  to  know  what  he  is  ?" 
"  Only  transferred." 
"  Transferred— where  ?" 
"  To  the  other  department." 


224 


CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 


"What  for?" 

"  For  duty." 

"What  duty?" 

"  Don't  know ;  that  depends  on  what  he's  fit  for." 

Mr.  Tlios.  Atkinson1  tolls  an  incident  of  his  service 
in  the  Nashville  hospitals,  after  some  of  the  wounded 
had  come  in  from  Chickamauga : 

I  found  a  young-  man  dying  in  the  upper  end  of  the  long  first  ward 
of  Hospital  Xo.  19.  Putting  my  month  near  his  ear,  I  whispered  to 
him  until  the  spirit  passed  away  in  peace;  then  gathering  about  sixty 

of  the  convalescents  about   the  cot,  I  preached   to 
Halt  and  Arm- 
/(>x  them  Jesus.     Down  in  the  middle  and  lower  end  of 

the  long  ward  were  many  who  could  not  stir  from  their 
beds  ;  I  told  them,  as  I  went  along  among  them  of  the  soldier  who 
had  gone  up  from  their  midst  into  the  City  of  God.  It  was  time  for 
our  daily  prayer  meeting,  hut  before  I  went  away  I  thought  there 
might  be  some  of  the  maimed  company  whom  it  would  comfort  to 
know  that  God's  people  were  praying  for  them  somewhere:  so  I  said — 

"Boys,  I'm  going  to  the  prayer  meeting  now,  and  I  would  like  to 
know  if  any  of  yon  are  anxious  to  be  saved.  If  you  are,  please  hold 
up  your  right  hands." 

Hands  went  up  all  round  ;  here  and  there  a  stump  was  raised  ;  one 
man  had  neither  hand  remaining,  so  he  raised  two  poor  stumps  in 
token  of  his  desire  for  Christ ;  another  had  no  stumps  even  to  raise, — 
he  could  only  turn  his  head  and  say  with  difficult  earnestness, 
"  Me— me." 

Rev.  Edward  Hawes2  recalls  these  scenes  of  his  ser 
vice  as  Delegate  at  Chattanooga  after  Chickamanga : 

Pushing  aside  the  canvas,  I  enter  a  hospital  tent.  In  one  corner 
lies  a  wounded  man  : 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  my  friend  ?  " 


1  See  p.  102. 

2  See  p.  210.     From  his  address  at  the  Philadelphia  Anniversary  of  the  Com 
mission,  Jan.  31st,  1865. 


CHATTANOOGA.  225 

"  Yes,  sir,  if  you  please.     I  have  lost  my  Testa 
ment,  and  would  like  to  get  one."     I  give  him  one.         A  Lost  Testa' 

ment. 
On  the  next  cot  is  a  man  who  lies  quiet,  seemingly 

without  pain.     All  save  his  face  is  covered : 

"You  are  not  much  injured,  I  suppose,  my  dear  fellow?" 
He    looks  up  with  a    faint   smile, — "Not  much, 

sir," — but  he  has  been  hit  in  nine  places  by  a  burst-          "Not  Much, 

ing  shell !  Sir" 

I  pass  along  and  the  steward  says — 
"Chaplain,  won't  you  come  here?     We  think  this  man  is  dying. 

Can't  you  say  something  to  him?" 

I  bend  over  him ;  the  cold  sweat  is  already  upon  his  brow ;  his 

eyes  are  fixed,  fastening  themselves  in  death,  but  they  grow  brilliant, 

and  he  mutters  something : 

"See!  a  star!  there's  a  star !  oh,  how  bright !    It's          The  Star   °f 

„  Bethlehem. 

the  star — ,    and  his  voice  dies  away  in  death.     Per 
haps  he  is  thinking  of  the  Star  of  Bethlehem.    We  hope  so,  and  that 
it  will  light  him  through  the  dark  valley. 

I  go  to  another  man  in  the  next  tent,  and  with  the  Surgeon's 
permission  give  him  a  single  swallow  of  wine ;  he 

looks  such  a  beam  of  gratitude  from  those  brightened  *s    our 

Name  ?  " 
eyes! 

"  O  sir,  that's  good.  What  is  your  name  ?  I  shall  ahvays  remem 
ber  you." 

"  How  are  you  getting  along,  my  brother  ?"  I  say  to  the  next. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  thank  you." 

"  Have  you  a  family?" 

"  Yes,  a  wife  and  two  little  children  in  Ohio." 

"Have  you  written  to  them  since  the  battle?"—         No  Char9ef°r 
It  is  a  foolish  question,  for  I  see  in  a  moment  that 
his  right  arm  is  shattered  ;  "  Sha'n't  I  write  for  you  ?" 

He  hesitated ;  why  don't  he  say  gladly,  "  Oh,  yes,  sir,  if  you 
please?"  I  repeat,  perhaps  he  does  not  understand.  He  looks  at 
me  with  a  queer  air: 

"  How  much  do  you  charge,  sir  f  " 

Oh,  how  that  cuts  the  Delegate's  sensitive  heart: — "My  dear 
brother  soldier,  that  is  what  I  am  here  for, — to  write  for  you,  or  to 
do  anything  for  you.  I  will  thank  you  for  the  privilege." 

15 


226  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

"  Oh,  thank  you  !  thank  you  !  I  will  be  so  glad." 

We  get  paper  and  pen  ready :  "  What  shall  I  write  ?" 

He  begins  with  expressions  of  Christian  trust,  and  then  briefly  de 
scribes  his  condition.  We  read  what  is  written,  but  the  man  is  not 
there, — his  eyes  are  shut,  the  big  tears  are  rolling  down  from  beneath 
the  closed  lids,  and  he  makes  no  effort  to  wipe  them  away, — ah !  the 
shattered  arm,  perhaps ;  but  no,  that  is  not  the  reason  ;  he  is  in 
Ohio,  with  his  dear  wife  and  children  ;  we  will  not  disturb  his 
dreams.  After  a  pause  he  opens  his  eyes,  and  we  tell  him  the  letter 
is  finished, — "Will  it  do?"  With  a  look  of  overflowing  gratitude  he 
answers — 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir ;  yes,  sir ;  thank  you  ! " 

In  the  corner  lies  a  man  burdened  with  a  sense  of  his  guilt.  After 
talking  some  time,  I  ask  him — 

"  My  dear  friend,  can't  you  trust  Jesus  now  ?" 

"  Oh !  if  I  only  could !     It  would  be  the  happiest 

"  Can     You       d         f          life       Won»t  you  pray  for  me  ?» 

m  i  '"i  J  "  J  \.  J 

Trust  Jesus?  T  ,         ,      ,    ,  .       .  ,          _,,  ,  ,     -, 

I  kneel  at  his  side; — there  may  be  card-playing 

in  the  opposite  corner, — no  matter,  God's  Spirit  is  with  us,  and  prayer 
ascends,  and  God  hears  us,  for  I  leave  the  soldier  with  a  trembling 
hope  in  Jesus. 

Passing  out,  I  come  to  a  little  shelter-tent,  under  which  a  man  is 
lying.  I  bend  over  him  and  ask — 

"  You  have  the  Christian's  hope,  I  trust  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sir." 

"^Cannot Read,          j  gee  no  Testament  by  him  _«  Have  you  no  Testa 
ment?" 

"No,  sir." 

"  Well,  you  must  have  one,"  and  I  begin  opening  my  haversack ; 
but  he  tells  me  he  cannot  read : 

"  You  cannot  read  ?  then  I  shall  read  for  you." 

We  begin  at  the  precious  words,  "  For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly 
house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of  God, 
an  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens."  We  read 
through  the  chapter,  and  then  leave  him  peering  up  through  the  rent 
in  the  canvas  covering  into  the  deep  blue  beyond,  longing  after  the 
country  above,  where  his  spirit  must  soon  be  with  the  multitude  of 
the  redeemed. 


CHATTANOOGA.  227 

Rev.  Wm.  M.  Taylor1  tells  the  story  of  Johnny  Mitch, 
of  the  4th  Kentucky  Regiment : 

I  met  him  at  General  Hospital  No.  3,  in  Chattanooga,  and  became 
very  much  interested  in  him.     Left  fatherless  and  motherless  at  his 
home  in  Ohio,  before  he  was  eight  years  old,  he  had  but  little  direc 
tion  into  the  right  way.     The  war  broke  out  when 
he  was  fifteen.     Too  young  to  enlist,  a  Captain  of  ^e    Child- 

cavalry  offered  to  take  him  with  him  to  care  for  his 
horses.  The  two  started,  but  when  Johnny  reached  Cincinnati,  he 
saw  so  many  very  young-looking  boys  enlisting,  that  he  concluded 
to  do  the  same.  He  passed  safely  through  the  fights  at  Rolling 
Fork,  Hoover's  Gap  and  Tullahoma,  but  at  Chickamauga  he  was 
thrice  wounded, — in  the  side  of  his  head,  the  right  hand,  and — 
more  seriously — in  the  mouth, — the  ball  lodging  at  the  back  part 
of  his  neck.  He  lay  for  five  days  on  the  field  near  an  old  log-house, 
receiving  scarcely  any  food  from  the  enemy.  "  Five  days,"  said  the 
little  fellow  afterwards  to  me,  "  they  fed  me  on  nothing."  After  a 
while  he  was  brought  under  flag  of  truce  within  our  lines.  The 
Surgeon  told  him  he  must  die ;  and  for  four  weeks  this  decision  was 
unchanged. 

'•  But,"  said  he,  "  I  kept  up  good  spirits.  I  did  sometimes  think 
I  would  die,  but  it  was  no  use  to  be  disheartened  about  it." 

Who  shall  say  that  this  child's  faith  did  not  save  him  ?  Speaking 
of  these  long  days  of  suspense,  he  told  me — 

"  In  the  mornings  when  I  woke,  I  would  read  a  chapter  in  my  Tes 
tament,  and  pray  the  Lord  to  help  me  up ;  and  it  always  seemed 
to  me  that  I  began  to  get  better  right  away,  and  I  always  felt  mighty 
thankful." 

He  was  such  a  youth, — only  seventeen,  and  two  years  a  soldier,  the 
lisp  bequeathed  him  by  the  wound  in  his  mouth  made  his  yet  un 
changed  voice  so  girlish  and  sweet,  his  eventful  little  history  was  so 
interesting  and  affecting,  that  I  became  very  much  attached  to  him. 
I  asked  him  once  what  he  was  going  to  do  ? 

"  I  want  to  go  home  till  I  get  well,"  said  he,  "  then  come  back, 
and  go  in  again.  I'm  more  anxious  to  try  the  Rebels  now  than  I 
ever  was." 


*  See  p.  201. 


228  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  days  after  Chickamauga  were  the  gloomiest  in  the 
history  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland,  and  nowhere 
was  this  felt  more  than  in  the  vicinity  of  Chattanooga. 
Rev.  Mr.  Smith  writes  : 

During  the  gloomy  time  of  the  siege  of  Chattanooga,  I  was  riding 
down  Waldon's  Ridge,  on  my  way  to  Bridgeport.  The  day  was  cold 
and  wet, — everything  was  disheartening.  It  seemed  probable  that 

we  were  about  to  abandon  Chattanooga,  and  that 
The       Lost  .  ,    . 

-a-       ,.  this  would  be  my  last  trip  over  the  mountains.     Ue- 

Hymn-hne.  J 

pressed  with  these  thoughts  and  chilled  with  the 
rain,  I  jogged  along  alone,  until  I  overtook  a  cavalryman  riding  sol 
itarily,  and  seemingly  as  low  in  spirits  as  myself.  As  I  came  abreast 
of  him,  so  as  to  look  into  his  face,  I  saw  his  eyes  full  of  tears.  In 
our  conversation  I  let  fall  a  word  of  Christian  experience,  when  he 
turned  to  me  in  an  earnest  way,  and  said — 

"  Then  you  are  a  Christian.  Perhaps  you  can  help  me  out  of  my 
difficulty?" 

I  expressed  my  readiness  to  do  anything  I  could : 
"I  was  just  trying  to  repeat  the  first  verse  of  a  blessed  old  hymn 
which  I  have  been  singing  for  years,  but  somehow  that  fourth  line  I 
can't  get  hold  of  this  morning : 

" '  Sweet  was  the  time  when  first  I  felt 

The  Saviour's  pardoning  blood 
Applied  to  cleanse  my  soul  from  guilt/ — 

now,  there's  where  I'm  stopped ;  what's  the  next  line  ?" 
I  finished  it  up  for  him, — 

"'And  bring  me  home  to  God.' " 

"That's  it;  thank  you,"  said  he;  "  that's  it.  I  wonder  I  could  have 
forgotten  it." 

"  You  looked  troubled,"  said  I,  "  when  I  first  saw  you ;  your  tears 
couldn't  have  been  over  the  loss  of  that  fourth  line  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  he  replied  ;  "  it  was  the  other  three  lines  that  brought 
the  tears.  I  was  thinking  of  the  time  of  my  conversion,  and  of  the 
many,  many  times  when  I  have  '  felt  the  pardoning  blood'  since  that 
day." 


CHATTANOOGA.  229 

The  General  Field  Hospital  was  two  miles  out  of 
Chattanooga,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Tennessee. 
Here  the  wounded  were  loaded  into  mule  wagons  for 
transportation  seventy  miles  to  Bridgeport.  The  story 
of  those  long  trains  of  agony  and  death  can  never  be 
written,  yet  even  these  wagons  afforded  a  place  of  song 
and  prayer : 

The  road  lay  over  precipices  so  steep  and  rocky,  that  the  wagons 
were  often  let  down  by  ropes  from  one  rock  to  another,  amid  the 
groans  and  shrieks  of  tortured  men.  So  excruciatingly  painful  was 
the  descent  of  Waldon's  Ridge,  that  some  of  the  suf- 

erers   begged   the  privilege  of  crawling  down    the        ,       e       a^on 

Prayer  Meeting. 
rocks  and  dragging  their  wounded  limbs  alter  them. 

There  has  been  in  the  war  no  more  touching  scene  than  was  pre 
sented  one  morning  among  these  wagons,  just  loaded  with  wounded, 
and  about  to  start  on  their  perilous  journey  to  Bridgeport.  Lying  on 
the  wagon  bottoms,  without  straw  to  break  the  rough  jolting,  and 
many  without  the  canvas  covering  to  protect  from  the  rain  and  sun, 
each  man  was  experimenting  to  find  a  comfortable  position,  and  re 
sorting  to  all  expedients  to  provide  himself  for  the  way  with  a  can 
teen  of  water,  and  a  few  hard  crackers  in  his  haversack.  All  were 
thoughtful  and  anxious ;  Chickamauga  was  a  defeat,  and  the  gloom 
of  an  army  strikes  first  and  deepest  upon  its  hospitals.  The  Dele 
gates  were  busy  attending,  as  far  as  possible,  to  the  personal  wants 
of  the  men  in  the  different  wagons.  When  the  train  was  ready  and 
waiting  the  order  to  move,  Mr.  Burnell,  standing  on  a  driver's  seat, 
proposed  a  prayer  meeting. 

"  Yes,  yes,  give  us  a  prayer  meeting,"  came  from  a  hundred  voices. 

The  hymn,  "  When  I  can  read  my  title  clear ;"  a  few  words  of  the 
Saviour's  love  and  cheer ;  a  prayer  for  the  sufferers, — some  of  whom 
would  die  on  their  way,  and  for  their  country  and  the  friends  far 
away, — perhaps  even  now  praying  for  them;  the  benediction  of  peace, 
and  the  fervent,  responding  "Amen,"  were  all  the  services  of  this 
wagon  prayer  meeting ; — to  not  a  few  of  the  worshipers  their  last 
earthly  scene  of  song  and  prayer.1 

1  Annals,  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  466,  467. 


230  CHKISTIAN   COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  Baptist  Church  in  Chattanooga,  which  had  been 
assigned  for  a  Commission  chapel,  and  afterwards  taken 
for  hospital  purposes,  was  restored  early  in  November. 
Field  Agent  Smith  gives  an  account1  of  a  remarkable 
series  of  nightly  meetings  which  began  at  once : 

The  first  half  hour  of  the  evening  was  given  to  prayer  and  relation 
of  religious  experience ;  then  came  the  sermon  by  a  Delegate  or 
Chaplain,  followed  by  a  special  service  for  those  who  desired  to  be 
come  Christians.  The  experiences  were  not  the  repetitious  accounts 
often  given  on  such  occasions.  Nearly  all  the  worshipers  had  been 
on  the  Chickamauga  field.  They  had  been  saved  from  capture  and 
death,  while  many  comrades  had  fallen.  They  crowded  to  the  chapel 
with  thanksgivings  and  confessions,  and  with  importunities  for  their 
unconverted  comrades  to  come  to  the  Saviour.  A  half  hour  before 
the  time  for  service  the  chapel  was  often  so  crowded  as  to  make  it 
difficult  to  go  through  the  aisle  to  the  pulpit.  Twenty,  forty,  and  one 
night  more  than  one  hundred,  asked  for  prayers. 

One  evening,  when  room  could  not  be  found  to  invite  forward 

those  who  desired  prayers,  and  an  expression  of  feel- 

,    w.   ,  ing  by  the  uplifted  hand  was  called  for,  all  were 

deeply  affected  by  seeing  a  hand  thrust  in  through 

the  window ;  an  anxious  soul  standing  without  desired  to  see  Jesus. 

At  another  meeting,  when  opportunity  was  given  for  any  to  express 
their  feelings,  an  Illinois  soldier  arose  in  the  audience,  and  with  a 
decided  manner  and  tone,  said — 

"  My  fellow-soldiers,  I  am  not  excited ;  I  am  con 
vinced, — that's  all.  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  be  a  Chris 
tian,— that  I  ought  to  say  so, — to  tell  you  so,  and  to  ask  you  to  come 
with  me ;  and  now,  if  there  is  a  call  for  sinners  seeking  Christ  to 
come  forward,  I  for  one  shall  go, — not  on  account  of  excitement,  for 
I  tell  you  my  heart  never  beat  steadier  in  my  life, — not  to  make  a 
show,  for  I  have  nothing  but  sin  to  show ;  I  do  not  go  because  I  want 
to, — I  would  rather  keep  my  seat, — but  going  will  be  telling  the 
truth ;  I  ought  to  be  a  Christian, — I  want  to  be  a  Christian, — and 


1  Annals,  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  408,  469. 


MISSION    KIDGE.  231 

going  forward  for  prayers  is  just  telling  the  truth  about  it.     Say, 
comrades,  won't  you  go  with  me  ?" 

And  without  waiting  for  their  answer,  or  for  a  formal  invitation 
from  the  preacher,  he  strode  down  the  aisle  and  knelt  at  the  altar, 
with  more  than  a  score  of  his  comrades  following  and  kneeling 
around  him.  It  scarcely  need  be  added  that  salvation  came  that 
night  to  that  sincere  seeker. 

Gen.  Grant's  first  movements  were  for  the  opening  up 
of  a  better  line  of  communication.  This  was  soon  ac 
complished.  In  the  mean  time  Sherman  was  marching 
from  Mississippi  to  re-enforce  him.  On  Nov.  23d,  the 
assault  on  Bragg's  entrenchments  began.  On  the  next 
day  Hooker  carried  Lookout  Mountain,  and  on  the  25th, 
the  whole  of  the  rest  of  the  enemy's  strong  position  in 
Chattanooga  Valley  and  on  Mission  Ridge  was  in  our 
possession.  Bragg  was  pursued  beyond  Ringgold,  and 
made  no  further  offensive  movements  during  the  Winter. 

Mr.  Smith  gives  the  following  narrative  of  the  battle 
of  Mission  Ridge  :  , 

Gen.  Sherman  now  began  to  strike  heavy  blows  for  the  railroad 
communication  through  the  tunnel.  Twice  we  saw  his  long  blue  line 
move  over  a  corn-field  up  to  the  skirts  of  the  woods,  and  fall  rapidly 
back.  The  third  time  they  marched  up  and  held  their  ground.  We 
knew  that  many  men  must  have  gone  down  under  that  terrible  fire 
at  short  range,  and  that  the  corn-field  must  be  full  of  sufferers.  A 
party  of  Delegates  started  on  foot,  to  carry  such  relief  as  they  could, 
with  coffee-kettles,  stimulants  and  bandages.  As  we  were  passing 
along  the  line  of  Gen.  Wood's  Division,  Colonel  Stanley  called  out 
to  us,  and  pointing  up  the  ridge,  said — 

"  There  will  be  work  enough  for  you  right  here  in  a  few  minutes." 

While  he  was  speaking  a  line  of  blue  coats  went  over  our  first  line 

of  works,  and  a  little  further  on  a  line  of  gray  coats  left  theirs ;  both 

lines  swept  up  the  hill.     The  Rebels  massed  their  standards  and  ral- 


232  CHKISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

lied  their  forces  at  the  point  of  the  ridge  directly 
The   Struggle       •     c  ~  ,.     ,  . 

for  the  Rid  e  ln  °Ur  c"m"mg  columns,  or  rather  climbing 

mass,  for  every  man  was  stretching  away  for  himself, 
fired  with  the  single  purpose  of  gaining  the  top.  Under  this  mus 
ketry  in  front  and  the  enfilading  fire  of  forty  cannon  trained  on 
them  from  either  side  of  the  ridge,  they  went  on  and  up,  till  the  field 
was  ours,  the  siege  of  Chattanooga  was  raised,  and  the  Rebels  had 
abandoned  their  last  stronghold  along  the  line  of  the  Tennessee 
River. 

While  Gen.  Thomas'  men  were  scaling  the  ridge  the  Delegates' 
work  commenced.     The  wounded  began  to  fall  back,  supporting  a 
disabled  arm  or  limping  on  a  musket,  or  borne  on  a  blanket  by  their 
comrades.    Taking  possession  of  an  abandoned  farm- 
8  house  at  the  foot  of  the  ridge,  we  opened  a  hospital 


for  those  who  were  not  able  to  make  their  way  to 
town.  A  half  dozen  cotton  bales,  ripped  open  and  spread  upon  the 
floors,  made  good  beds  and  pillows  for  the  wounded.  Some  of  the 
captured  Rebels  had  corn  meal  in  their  haversacks.  This  made  a 
large  kettle  of  mush,  and,  with  the  coffee  and  soup  we  had  brought 
along,  furnished  an  excellent  supper,  which  was  taken  with  special 
relish  by  the  wounded  Rebels.  One  of  them,  a  Tennessee  Major, 

whose  side  (struck  with  a  shell)  we  had  bound  up, 


^i  -e  yo^  followed  with  an  eager  eye,  as  he  lay  before  the  fire, 
our  operations  of  making  beds,  preparing  supper, 
tying  up  wounds,  and  cutting  out  minie  balls.  At  last,  his  curiosity 
and  astonishment  getting  the  mastery,  he  said  — 

"  Pardon  me,  gentlemen,  but  I  would  like  to  know  your  rank  ?" 

When  told  that  we  were  Delegates  of  the  Christian  Commission, 
he  said  — 

"I  am  not  acquainted  with  your  organization,  but  I  like  your 
name  ;"  and  drawing  a  heavy  gold  watch  from  his  pocket,  he  placed 
it  in  the  hands  of  a  Delegate  for  safe-keeping.1 

The  enthusiasm  of  the  men  over  their  victory  was  unbounded. 


1  The  Major  died  suddenly  a  few  days  after,  and  so  unexpectedly  that  he  left 
no  directions  respecting  his  property.  After  long  inquiry  the  agent  found  his 
mother's  name  and  residence,  in  Middle  Tennessee,  and  at  the  close  of  the  war 
had  the  pleasure  of  putting  her  son's  watch  in  her  hand. 


MISSION    RIDGE. 


233 


The  soldier  forgot  he  was  wounded  while  telling  of  the  fight,  and 

while  a  ball  was  being  cut  out  of  an  arm  or  leg  with  a  Delegate's 

pocket-knife,  would  occupy  the  time  telling  how  he 

came  to  be  hit,  or  "  pegged,"  as  they  called  it.    Dur- 

ing  the  charge  up  the  ridge,  four  soldiers  were  seen 

bearing  back  a  comrade  on  a  blanket.     His  story  is  thus  told  by  one 

of  the  Delegates  who  met  him : 


ALMOST    UP." 


The  men  halted  when  they  saw  us,  and  laid  down  their  burden, 
asking  if  we  would  see  whether  the  Color-sergeant  was  badly  wounded. 
I  knelt  down  by  him  and  said — 


234  CHKISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

"Sergeant,  where  did  they  hit  you?" 

"  Most  up  the  ridge,  sir." 

"  I  mean,  Sergeant,  where  did  the  ball  strike  you  ?" 

"  Within  twenty  yards  of  the  top, — almost  up." 

"  No,  no,  Sergeant ;  think  of  yourself  for  a  moment ;  tell  me  where 
you  are  wounded;"  and  throwing  back  the  blanket,  I  found  his 
upper  arm  and  shoulder  mashed  and  mangled  with  a  shell.  Turning 
his  eye  to  look  for  the  first  time  upon  his  wound,  the  Sergeant  said — 

"  That  is  what  did  it.  I  was  hugging  the  standard  to  my  blouse, 
and  making  for  the  top.  I  was  almost  up  when  that  ugly  shell 
knocked  me  over.  If  they  had  let  me  alone  a  little  longer,— two 
minutes  longer, — I  should  have  planted  the  colors  on  the  top.  Al 
most  up ;  almost  up  !" 

We  could  not  get  the  dying  soldier's  attention  to  himself.  The  fight 
and  the  flag  held  all  his  thoughts ;  and  while  his  ear  was  growing 
heavy  in  death,  with  a  flushed  face  and  look  of  ineffable  regret,  he 
was  repeating,  "Almost  up  ;  almost  up !"  The  brigade  to  which  he 
belonged  had  carried  the  ridge,  and  his  own  regiment,  rallying  under 
the  colors  which  had  dropped  from  his  shattered  arm,  was  shouting 
the  victory  for  which  the  poor  Sergeant  had  given  his  young  life,  but 
of  which  he  was  dying  without  the  sight. 

An  Ohio  soldier,  of  Turchin's  Brigade,  came  into  the  yard  of  the 
farm-house,  his  blood  smearing  his  face  and  clothes,  and  hanging  in 
clotted  masses  on  his  long  beard.  A  buck  shot  had  passed  through 

his  nose,  and  was  lodged  under  the  skin  on  the  other 
A    Wounded        .,  . 

Latin  Scholar.        Slde>  close  "J  llls  eye-     He  wanted  it  cut  out,  and 

was  with  difficulty  persuaded  that  it  was  dangerous 
for  an  unskilled  hand  to  operate  with  a  pocket-knife  so  near  his  eye. 
While  we  were  bringing  water  he  sat  down  on  the  ground,  and 
pulled  from  his  bosom  a  copy  of  Andrews'  Latin  Grammar.  It  was 
covered  thick  with  his  blood.  He  turned  to  the  fifth  declension  and 
began  with  res,  rei.  He  said  that  he  was  at  an  academy  in  Ohio, 
preparing  for  college,  when  the  call  came  for  recruits,  and  he  had 
left  his  Latin  at  this  point.  As  his  regiment  was  passing  a  house 
that  afternoon,  which  some  "bummer"  had  plundered,  he  found  this 
book,  and  had  carried  it  under  his  blouse  in  the  fight,  thinking  that 
if  he  was  wounded  or  taken  prisoner  he  would  be  able  to  go  on  with 
his  Latin. 


MISSION    RIDGE.  235 

When  at  midnight  we  had  given  a  supper  to  the  men,  and  had 
searched  the  fields  around  with  the  stretcher-bearers,  and  seen  nearly 
all  the  wounded  at  this  flying  hospital  started  in  ambulances  for 
town,  we  loaded  ourselves  with  crackers,  kettles  of 

soup  and  canteens  of  stimulants,  and  went  to  the  top          T^e  HosPiiai 
r  \        at  the  top  of  the 

of  the  ridge.     Here  we  came  upon  one  01  the  dread-      judqe  ' 


ful  scenes  of  war.  A  one-story  log-house  was  filled 
with  Union  and  Kebel  wounded.  The  floors  of  the  two  rooms  and 
of  the  wide,  open  hall  and  the  piazza  across  the  front  of  the  house 
were  covered  with  men,  lying  so  thick  as  to  make  walking  among 
them  perilous  to  limb,  if  not  to  life.  The  night  was  frosty  ;  there  had 
been  no  fire  or  supper.  There  was  no  Surgeon  or  nurse,  and  the  men 
were  lying  in  clothes  stiff  with  blood  from  undressed  wounds.  The 
ambulances  had  ceased  running  for  the  night.  The  stretcher-bearers 
had  gone  to  sleep  on  their  stretchers.  In  the  yard,  for  fifty  feet 
around,  the  Rebel  dead  were  lying.  They  had  died  in  the  house  be 
fore  the  ridge  was  carried,  and  had  been  brought  out  by  our  men  to 
make  room  for  the  living.  Underneath  these  floors,  in  a  cellar  lately 
dug,  were  the  children  and  women  of  the  house.  They  had  remained 
safe  from  the  shot  and  shell  that  had  poured  around  them,  and  were 
sitting  in  the  door  of  their  cellar,  smoking  pipes  and  eating  snuff, 
without  the  slightest  possible  concern  or  interest  in  the  dreadful 
scenes  about  them.  During  all  the  afternoon  and  night,  with  their 
house  and  yard  full  of  suffering  men,  many  of  them  Rebels  dying 
in  their  cause,  the  mother,  her  sister  and  two  grown 
up  daughters  had  not  so  much  as  offered  to  tie  a  ou 

bandage,  or  kindle  a  fire  upon  the  hearth,  or  bring  a 
a  cup  of  water,  or  speak  a  gentle  word.     I  asked  if  they  would  not 
assist  in  preparing  supper  for  the  men.     The  mother,  taking  her  pipe 
from  her  mouth,  said  — 

"  You'uns  brought  'em  all  here,  and  you'uns  mought  take  care  on 
'em  ;"  and  putting  back  her  pipe,  she  swung  one  foot  over  the  other, 
and  smoked  away  in  the  most  listless  manner: 

"  But,  madam,  these  are,  many  of  them,  Confederate  soldiers,  dying 
away  from  home.  Can't  you  do  something  for  them  ?" 

It  was  the  same  answer,  this  time  without  removing  the  pipe  — 

"  You'uns  brought  'em  all  here,  and  you'uns  mought  take  care 
on  'em." 


236  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

I  asked  for  meal, — she  had  none;  for  a  kettle  to  make  coffee, — she 
had  none ;  for  an  axe  to  cut  fire-wood, — she  had  none.  As  I  passed 
out  a  colored  boy,  about  a  dozen  years  old,  whispered  to  me — 

"  Missus  done  hid  the  axe." 

I  went  back  and  asked  again  for  it, — she  had  none,  and  the  "  nig 
ger  lied."  I  said — 

"  The  men  must  have  a  fire,  and  if  there  is  no  axe  I  must  take 
your  shingles ;"  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  I  laid  hold  of  the 
roof  of  the  piazza,  and  had  already  filled  my  arms,  when  she  brought 
out  her  axe  from  between  the  beds. 

We  spent  the  night  dressing  wounds,  feeding  with  coffee  and  soup, 
administering  stimulants,  and  taking  memoranda  for  home  letters. 
For  a  mile  along  the  top  of  the  ridge  we  found  soldiers  grouped 

around  their  fires,  discussing  till  morning  light  the 

The  NiqTit  on  n  .-,  .  ., 

th  R'd  scenes  01  the  previous  day,  and  telling  of  their  miss 

ing  comrades,  when  and  how  they  fell.  Within 
nearly  all  these  groups  we  found  wounded  men,  and  sometimes,  out 
side  the  group,  the  corpse  of  a  soldier  who  had  been  removed  from 
the  fire  after  death  had  ensued.  By  our  stimulants  and  hot  soup  we 
helped  these  soldiers  keep  their  comrades  alive  till  morning.  The 
wounded  Confederates  were  as  hearty  in  their  gratitude  for  our  relief, 
as  they  were  unanimous  in  their  opinion  that  the  Yankees  made 
their  soup  too  salt.  We  were  able  to  fill  out  many  home  letters,  by 
the  memoranda  gathered  during  the  night  from  the  lips  of  the  dying 
and  from  the  letters  and  diaries  found  on  the  dead.  Ordinarily,  un 
less  the  body  had  been  robbed,  in  the  inside  breast-pocket  of  the 
blouse  there  would  be  a  letter  from  friends,  a  photograph,  a  Christian 
Commission  Testament  or  Hymn-book,  with  the  name  and  regiment 
and  home  address ; — or  a  diary  without  a  name, — for  singularly 
enough,  those  records  of  daily  marches  and  battles  and  camps  almost 
invariably  gave  no  clue  to  the  name  of  the  writer.  Keeping  it  merely 
for  his  own  eye,  the  soldier  had  found  no  occasion  to  mention  his 
name  or  regiment.  When  the  morning  broke  we  had  passed  twice 
along  the  ridge  where  the  fiercest  fight  occurred,  and  had  given  a 
midnight  supper  and  a  breakfast  to  the  wounded  in  the  log-house. 
The  stretcher-bearers  then  resumed  their  work  of  bringing  in  the 
wounded,  and  the  ambulances  loaded  up  for  town. 

At  daylight  Gen.  Turchin's  Brigade,  directly  before  us,  halfway 


MISSION    RIDGE.  237 

down  the  ri*3ge,  had  gathered  up  their  dead  and  laid  them  in  the  long 
trench,  with  a  dirge  from  the  band  and  the  farewell  musketry  of 
their  comrades.  They  were  under  marching  orders, 
with  Granger's  and  Howard's  Corps  and  Sherman's 
army,  to  raise  the  siege  with  which  Longstreet  was  closely  pressing 
Burnside  at  Knoxville.  Before  the  sun  was  fairly  up  their  camp 
ground  was  silent.  Passing  through  it  on  our  way  back  to  town,  we 
found  no  signs  of  its  previous  occupation,  save  smouldering  fires  and 
the  trench  of  graves,  set  with  pieces  of  cracker-boxes,  bearing  the 
names  of  the  dead,  cut  in  with  the  pocket-knives  of  their  comrades. 
This,  we  thought,  is  a  day  in  a  soldier's  life,  more  crowded  with 
events  than  a  whole  common  life  at  home  ; — to  fight  in  the  evening 
and  carry  the  enemy's  strongest  position ;  divide  the  night  between 
sleep,  the  stories  of  the  day,  and  the  gathering  in  of  their  dead;  in 
the  morning  bury  their  comrades,  and  sling  knapsacks  for  a  march 
more  perilous  than  the  fight  had  been. 

At  noon  we  were  startled  by  heavy  cannonading  from  Fort  Wood 
and  other  forts  around  Chattanooga.     What  could  it  mean  ?     It  was 
not  possible  that  the  enemy  had  rallied  and  were  upon  us  again  ? 
To   those  who  had    seen   the   complete   rout  down 
the  slope  of  Mission  Ridge  such  a  thought  was  ab 
surd  ;  but  what  could  this  heavy,  rapid  firing  mean  ?    It  was  Novem 
ber  26th,  the  day  set  apart  nearly  two  months  before  by  President 
Lincoln  for  National  Thanksgiving,  and  never  were  thanks  given  by 
cannonading  more  appropriately  than  by  the  national  salute  of  that 
noon.1 

Chaplain  Thomas,2  in  visiting  Sheridan's  Division 
Hospital  No.  2,  after  the  battles  before  Chattanooga, 
found  a  rare  example  of  faithful  Bible  reading : 

A  soldier  wounded  in  the  leg  was  sitting  on  his  cot  tailor-fashion, 
reading  an  octavo  book  open  before  him.  Approaching,  I  saw  it 
was  in  German.  Wondering  how  so  large  a  book  could  be  carried 
by  a  man  in  the  ranks,  I  asked — 


1  Annals  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  471-476. 
*  See  p.  82. 


238  CHEISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

A  German  Sir          "  How  do  you  manage  with  that  on  the  march?" 
ble  Reader.  «  You  see  that  ? "  said  he  in  broken  English,  point 

ing  to  a  rude  case  by  his  cot ;  "  I  got  the  leather  of  the  Quartermaster, 
and  cutting  off  strips  for  threads,  made  a  rough  thing  as  you  see. 
When  we  strike  tents  I  put  my  Bible  in  that  case,  and  throw  it  into 
one  of  the  wagons ;  sometimes  it  goes  in  with  picks  and  spades, — no 
matter,  it  don't  hurt ;  when  we  get  to  camp  again  I  go  and  get  my 
Bible  and  have  the  best  kind  of  reading.  The  print  is  large  enough 
to  read  by  fire-light  when  we  don't  draw  candles." 

"  How  many  times  have  you  read  the  Bible  through  ? " 

"  Twelve  times,  I  think ;  twice  since  entering  the  service." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  the  army?" 

"  Twenty-eight  months." 

He  was  not  a  Christian  when  he  enlisted,  and  I  asked  what  led 
him  to  seek  the  Saviour  : 

"  The  hardships, — the  hardships,  sir." 

Curious  to  know  what  he  had  learned  from  his  reading,  I 
asked — 

"  What  must  a  man  do  to  be  saved?" 

"  He  must  believe  Christ,  he  must  love  Christ ;  he  must  obey 
Christ ;  he  is  dead, — he  must  be  united  to  Christ  and  made  alive." 
Then  followed  an  earnest  denunciation  of  camp-vices,  and  simple, 
noble  views  of  Christian  character.  He  had  been  brought  up  a 
Roman  Catholic,  and  had  not  wholly  escaped  from  some  of  the 
errors  of  that  system. 

I  asked  a  Lieutenant,  whose  cot  was  near  the  German's,  what  he 
thought  of  the  man  : 

"  He  is  the  strangest  person  I  have  ever  met.  He  rises  with  the 
dawn,  kneels  beside  that  post,  and  all  we  hear  is  the  low  murmur,  but 
we  know  the  man  is  talking  with  his  God.  Again  at  night,  and  occa 
sionally  in  the  daytime,  at  the  conclusion  of  hours  of  Bible  reading, 
he  does  the  same  thing.  Sometimes  he  hobbles  along  from  cot  to 
cot,  and  urges  the  men  to  quit  their  sins  and  come  to  Christ,  and  he 
does  it  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  offend.  Every  one  knows  he  is  a 
Christian." 

For  weeks,  while  I  visited  that  hospital,  the  German  unweariedly 
perused  his  Bible,  and  labored,  as  was  his  wont,  among  his  sick  and 
dying  comrades. 


NASHVILLE.  239 

Mr.  Thos.  Atkinson,  shortly  after  the  battle  of  Look 
out  Mountain,  was  left  in  temporary  charge  as  Chaplain 
of  Hospitals  Nos.  14  and  15,  Nashville.  One  morning 
in  visiting  Ward  No.  6  of  the  latter,  the  following  inci 
dents  occurred : 

The  first  fifteen  minutes  I  spent  with  an  infidel,  very  badly 
wounded,  just  in  from  Lookout  Mountain.  He  was  a  refined  and 
educated  man,  received  me  with  entire  politeness,  and  was  glad  to 
have  a  little  conversation.  But  the  moment  I  ap 
proached  the  "Great  Question,"  he  said,  pleasantly—  A  Lesson  on 
.  ;  _  . .  _  _  Plain  English. 

'"'  You  understand  the  English  language,  sir  r 

I  nodded  assent  with  a  half  premonition  of  what  was  coming : 
"  Then  I  respectfully  but  emphatically  request  you  not  to  open  your 
lips  to  me  about  religion.  I  have  '  paddled  my  own  canoe/  as  thev 
say,  thus  far ;  and  I  don't  want  any  help  in  that  direction." 

I  was  at  a  loss  what  to  do ;  he  quickly  discovered  my  plans  to 
come  at  the  subject  indirectly  as  we  talked,  and  firmly  forbade  my 
"  preaching"  to  him. 

Within  hearing  was  a  very  sick  man,  who  had  been  listening 
eagerly ;  he  beckoned  to  me,  so  I  went  over  to  him  : 

"  Will  you  tell  me  about  Jesus  ?  That  man  won't  hear  you,  but 
I  will." 

I  was  deeply  touched  with  his  earnest,  entreating        The  Waters  al 
„  .    .  .  ,  .     j   .     A  11       Some  and  Above. 

manner  after  my  late  repulse,  and  promised  to  tell 

him  about  Jesus.  His  name  was  Jesse  Doherty ;  he  had  a  wife  and 
two  children  at  home,  and  had  been  in  the  army  three  years. 

"  When  did  you  hear  from  home,  Jesse  ?" 

"  Six  weeks  ago,  sir  ;  it's  a  long  time  since ; — won't  you  tell  me 
about  Jesus  ?  " 

I  began  answering  the  longing  of  his  heart.  I  told  him  of  Christ 
lifted  up  to  draw  all  men  unto  him,  of  how  he  had  to  look — only 
look — upon  Him  who  was  crucified.  Jesse  put  his  hands  together 
and  prayed  that  he  too,  like  so  many  before  him,  might  look  and 
live.  So,  I  believe,  the  Spirit  found  him,  and  accomplished  His  own 
precious  work. 

As  I  went  away  at  the  end  of  a  long  interview,  he  asked  me  Ui 


240  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

come  often  again ;  the  infidel's  face,  as  I  passed  his  cot,  showed  no 
sign  that  he  was  moved  by  the  conversation,  which  he  must  have 
heard. 

Next  Monday  morning  Jesse  met  me  with  a  very  happy  smile. 

"  I  have  such  good  news,"  said  he ;  "  I'll  be  going  home  this  week, 
sir, — on  Wednesday  morning.  My  papers  are  all  made  out, — oh ! 
how  glad  I  am  ! " 

Poor  fellow,  I  knew  he  never  would  leave  his  cot  until  carried  to 
the  last  resting-place  : 

"  Jesse,  you  can't  go  home  on  Wednesday." 

"  Why  not,  sir  ?  "  said  he,  hastily. 

"You  are  too  feeble;  the  boys  might  carry  you  to  the  cars,  but 
you  could  not  stand  the  long  ride." 

"  But  what  shall  I  do  here,  sir  ?  Look  at  that  water, — how  can  I 
drink  it?" — it  was  a  mixture  of  mud  and  water,  resembling  what 
coffee-drinkers  call  "  grounds" — "  how  can  I  drink  it  when  I  think 
of  the  old  well  at  home  in  Pleasant  Valley?  Oh,  how  I  long  for  a 
draught  from  that  old  well !  And  this  bed's  so  hard,  and  the  one  at 
home  so  soft !  And  there  are  the  children,  too,  and  wife, — and  you 
don't  knowr  what  nice  things  she'd  cook  for  me  !  I  could  eat  them, 
but  not  what  I  get  here.  If  I  was  only  home,  I  think  I  could  get 
well." 

"  Well,  Jesse,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  about  it.  The  first  pure 
draught  you  will  get  will  be  from  the  '  river  of  water  of  life,  clear 
as  crystal/  above ;  when  you  have  that  you  will  long  no  more  for 
draughts  from  the  home  well.  And,  Jesse,  the  first  time  you  will  see 
your  wife,  will  be  at  the  right  hand  with  the  heavenly  family  of 
God." 

"Do  you  think  so,  sir?"  and  his  eye  brightened  up;  "  well,  then, 
welcome  be  the  will  of  God.  How  glad  I  am  that  Jesus  is  precious 
to  me  now ! " 

On  Wednesday  I  saw  him  again : 

"  You  were  right,  sir ;  I  am  much  worse ;  I  couldn't  bear  to  be 
carried  to  the  cars  even." 

As  I  entered  the  ward  on  Sunday  morning,  five  or  six  soldiers 
surrounded  his  cot.  His  feet  were  gathered  up,  and  the  men  were 
doing  what  little  they  could  for  him: 

"It's  no  use,  sir;  you  can't  speak  with  him." 


MURFREESBORO'.  241 

Going  within  the  sad  circle,  I  put  my  mouth  to  his  ear : 

"Jesse,  do  you  know  me?" 

He  could  not  move  his  head,  but  there  was  an  answer,  very  faint, 
but  audible, — not  words,  only  a  sound.  I  put  my  hand  under  the 
cover  and  pressed  his;  the  pressure  was  returned  : 

"  It's  little  matter  whether  you  know  me  or  not ;  but  do  you  know 
the  Lord  Jesus,  Jesse?" 

Gathering  up  his  remaining  energies,  the  soldier  tried  to  speak. 
He  could  not  articulate,  but  we  heard  the  same  sound  he  had  uttered 
before, — only  louder  and  more  earnestly  spoken.  He  never  moaned 
or  spoke  again. 

The  hospital  work  became  quieter  in  character  until 
the  army  moved  once  more.  Rev.  Henry  D.  Lathrop,1 
visiting  Hospital  No.  4,  Murfreesboro',  in  December, 
writes : 

I  found  a  poor  Norwegian,  weak  and  wasting  rapidly  away.  I 
tried  to  talk  with  him ;  he  wanted  me  to  send  a  little  devotional  book, 
his  constant  companion,  to  a  sister  in  Minnesota; — but  after  repeated 
trials  I  found  intelligible  conversation  impossible. 
He  had  a  Testament,  given  him  previously  by  a  Del- 
egate,  with  Danish  and  English  in  parallel  columns. 
I  took  my  pencil  and  marked  in  the  Danish  column,  "  Come  unto 
Me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  eagerness  with  which  he  seized  the  book,  and 
ran  his  finger  along  the  lines,  as  he  read  half  audibly  in  his  own  lan 
guage  the  gracious  invitation.  A  smile  lighted  up  his  features,  while 
tears  were  running  down  his  cheeks.  Again  I  took  the  book  and 
marked,  "  I  am  the  Eesurrection  and  the  Life ;  he  that  believeth  in 
Me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live."  The  same  scene  as 
before  was  repeated.  Thus  I — no,  not  I,  but  the  Lord — spoke  to 
him. 

I  found  at  last  a  countryman  of  his  in  another  hospital,  and  had 
the  two  brought  together.  Through  this  man  all  the  wishes  of  the 
first  could  be  understood  and  attended  to. 


1  Rector  of  St.  John's  Prot.  Epis.  Church,  Lancaster,  Ohio. 
16 


242  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  story  of  the  year  in  the  Cumberland  Army  may 
be  closed  with  an  incident  related  by  the  General  Field 
Agent : 

While  searching,  in  answer  to  a  home  letter,  for  a  grave  in  the 
Soldiers'  Cemetery  in  Nashville,  I  noticed  a  man  in  citizen's  dress 
kneeling  by  a  grave,  and  evidently  writing  upon  the  painted  head 
board.     When  I  came  to  the  spot  he  was  standing  in 
front  of  the  board,  his  arms  folded,  his  face  bathed 
in  tears.     He  was  an  Illinois  farmer,  and  this  was  the  grave  of  an 
Illinois  soldier. 

"  Is  that  your  boy,  sir  ?"  I  asked. 

"  No,  he  lived  in  our  town,  and  I've  come  to  find  his  grave." 
"  Perhaps,  you  represent  his  father,  who  couldn't  come?" 
"Yes,  my  neighbor  was  glad  to  have  me  come,  but  I  came  for 
myself.  You  see,  I  have  seven  children,  all  of  them  small,  and  my 
wife  is  sickly.  I  was  drafted.  There  was  nobody  to  carry  on  the 
farm,  and  I  couldn't  hire  a  substitute.  My  thirteen  dollars  a  month 
wouldn't  feed  the  family.  It  seemed  as  though  I  must  go  and  they 
must  suffer.  When  we  were  in  our  greatest  trouble  about  it,  just  the 
morning  I  was  to  report  at  camp,  my  neighbor's  son  came  over  to  the 
house,  and  offered  to  go  to  war  for  me.  He  said  he  had  nobody  de 
pending  on  him  and  could  go  better  than  I.  He  went,  and  was 
wounded  at  Chickamauga,  brought  to  a  Nashville  hospital,  and  this 
is  his  grave." 

The  stranger  sobbed  aloud.  I  read  the  words  which  he  had  traced 
with  his  pencil  in  large,  awkward  letters  under  the  private's  name, — 
"  DIED  FOR  ME."  He  had  come  all  the  way  from  his  prairie  home, 
at  a  great  cost  to  himself,  to  put  this  grateful  mark  upon  the  grave 
of  his  substitute. 


CHAPTEE   IX. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES. 

GENERAL    GRANT'S    ADVANCE    UPON    RICHMOND. 
May  and  June,  1864. 

GEN.  GRANT  having  completed  his  preparations,  on 
May  4th  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  crossed  the  Eapidan 
and  pushed  forward  into  the  "  Wilderness/' — a  tract  of 
broken  table-land  stretching  southward  from  the  Eapi 
dan  nearly  to  Spottsylvania  Court  House,  seamed  with 
ravines  and  densely  covered  with  a  labyrinth  of  dwarf 
timber  and  bushes.  Fighting  began  early  on  the  morn 
ing  of  the  5th,  and  was  continued  throughout  that  and 
the  next  day  with  no  decisive  result,  though  the 
slaughter  was  terrible.  On  Friday  evening,  May  6th, 
our  line  was  substantially  the  same  as  at  the  beginning 
of  the  struggle.  Early  on  the  7th,  Lee  was  found  to 
have  entrenched  his  whole  front ;  Grant,  not  choosing  to 
attack  him  thus  fortified,  resumed  his  march  out  of  the 
Wilderness,  from  which  his  advance  emerged  on  Sun 
day,  and  the  whole  force  on  the  following  day.  The 
army  was  now  concentrated  at  Spottsylvania  C.  H.  On 
the  morning  of  the  12th,  Hancock  captured  a  strong 
point  of  the  enemy's  entrenched  line,  with  many  cannon 
and  prisoners.  Lee  was  unable  to  retake  it,  nor  yet 
could  our  line  advance,  as  the  murderous  day  sorely 


243 


244  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

proved.  After  several  days'  maneuvering  in  quest  of 
weak  points,  not  to  be  found,  on  the  night  of  the  20th 
the  flanking  advance  on  Richmond  was  resumed.  Gen. 
Meade  reports  his  losses  up  to  this  time  at  39,791  men. 

Rev.  E.  F.  Williams  writes  of  the  last  Sabbath  in 
April  at  Culpepper : 

To-day  the  Delegates  preached  twenty-three  times  to  the  regiments 
in  and  about  the  town.  Everywhere  the  men  listened  as  if  they  were 
anticipating  the  baptism  of  blood  which  awaited  them,  and  were 

anxious  to  prepare  for  the  march  to  death  which  so 

The  Last  Sun-  L    -, 

many  were  to  make. 
day  at  Culpepper.  J 

A  few  days  more  and  the  Commission  tents  were 

struck ;  cooking  utensils,  station  furniture,  books,  and  all  heavy  arti 
cles  were  sent  back  to  Washington ;  heavy  army-wagons  were  brought 
into  use ;  the  Delegates,  divided  into  companies,  were  placed  under 
command  of  experienced  agents,  to  each  of  whom  a  corps  was 
assigned ;  and  all,  with  mingled  calmness  and  dread,  awaited  the  for 
ward  movement. 

Rev.  Chas.  P.  Lyford1  tells  the  story  of  one  of  the 
last  services  before  the  Wilderness : 

The  day  before  the  advance  I  had  an  engagement  to  preach  to  a 
brigade  of  the  Fifth  Corps.    Just  before  the  hour  for  service  it  received 
marching  orders.    As  the  men  passed  our  tent,  the  Colonel  of  a  Penn 
sylvania  regiment  called  out  to  me — 

"In  Season  and          "Young  man,  you  won't  keep  your  appointment 
out  of  Season.'' 

to-night. 

They  were  a  noble  body  of  men,  marching  so  gayly  and  gladly  to 
the  grave.  My  heart  went  out  after  them  in  silent  resolve  to  preach 
to  them  if  it  were  possible,  that  night. 

I  mounted  a  horse  and  quietly  followed  them.  After  night,  as 
they  approached  Culpepper,  they  halted  and  prepared  to  bivouac. 
Supper  over,  I  rode  up  to  the  Colonel,  who  had  hailed  me  in  passing 


1  Member  of  Black  Elver  Conference,  Meth.  Epis.  Church. 


THE    ADVANCE.  245 

our  quarters,  and  reported  myself  ready  to  fill  my  appointment. 
With  his  whole  heart  he  entered  into  the  minutiae  of  preparation. 

"  I  believe  you  fellows  would  come  with  us  to  the  cannon's  mouth 
to  preach  the  Gospel,"  said  he. 

The  drums  beat  "  church-call ;"  a  dozen  good  singers  were  selected 
for  a  choir — and  yet  the  Colonel  was  not  a  Christian.  The  service 
was  in  front  of  his  headquarters.  I  never  attended  one  like  it  before  ; 
it  was  pitch  dark ;  I  could  not  see  the  men's  faces,  nor  could  they  see 
mine, — but  they  were  there,  hundreds  of  them, — and  the  Kind  Heart 
on  high  alone  knew  where  they  would  be  to-morrow  night.  How  they 
crowded  about  me  when  the  meeting  was  over  to  send  last  words 
home.  Some  of  them  spoke  of  Warrenton  Junction,  and  of  the  meet 
ings  at  which  they  had  found  the  Lord.  "Tell  my  friends,"  said  a 
Captain  to  me,  "  if  anything  happens,  that  I  am  ready  to  live  or 
die, — and  that  whether  I  live  or  die,  I  am  the  Lord's." 

On  the  5th  the  brigade  was  in  the  thickest  of  the  battle,  and  my 
brave  Colonel  fell  at  the  head  of  his  column. 


When  the  wounded  began  to  come  in,  the  saddest 
cases  were  those  of  men  who,  for  various  reasons,  could 
not  be  relieved.  Rev.  Mr.  Lyford  writes  : 

A  poor  German  saw  the  badge  and  called  me  to  his  side.  He  had 
stuck  some  bayonets  into  the  ground  and  stretched  a  blanket  upon 
their  points  to  try  and  ward  off  the  rays  of  the  sun.  His  side  was 

sadly  torn  by  a  shell,  but  his  great  need  was  water 

.     '     T  .  i  •     v  Unquenchable 

for  a  raging  thirst.     1  put  my  canteen  to  his  lips.  .    1 

-L  In  rst . 

Never  have  I  seen  such  agony  and  disappointment 
on  a  human  countenance  as  on  his  when  he  found  that  he  could  not 
swallow.    He  tried  again  and  again,  then  sank  back  upon  the  ground 
and  articulated — 

"  Pray  for  me,  pray  for  me  ;  it'll  be  all  over  soon." 
I  did  pray  for  him  that  he  might  have  that  water  of  which  he  who 
drinks  never  thirsts  again. 

During  the  night  of  the  second  day  our  extreme  right  was  assailed 
fiercely  and  driven  back  upon  the  field  hospital.  Such  a  scene  as 
there  was  then !  Ambulances  and  wagons  went  tearing  along,  filled 


246  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

with  wounded  who  had  been   hastily  gathered   in  ; 
Saving  a  Life.        ~     ,     , . 

Orderlies  swept  past  on  horseback,  and  close  in  front 

the  men  were  fighting  and  yelling  as  they  fought.     Suddenly  I  heard 
a  voice  out  of  the  darkness  at  my  feet : 

"  Don't  ride  over  me, — please  don't ;  I'm  wounded  and  can't  stir." 
Poor  fellow,  he  had  been  carried  to  an  ambulance,  but  it  was  full 
and  drove  away  without  him.  The  bearers  set  him  down  by  the  road 
side  to  wait  for  the  next  that  came  along,  but  nobody  had  time  to 
pick  him  up,  and  it  was  now  too  dark  to  see  him.  His  head  was 
within  a  few  inches  of  the  wheel-track.  I  stood  by  and  protected 
him  from  an  almost  certain  death,  until  he  was  properly  removed 
and  cared  for. 

It  was  President  Lincoln  who  told  the  members  of 
the  Commission  calling  on  him  in  Washington  after  the 
Anniversary  meeting  in  January,  1865  : — "  We  have 
been  only  doing  our  duty,  my  friends,  whatever  we  have 
been  able  to  do  together.  You  owe  me  no  thanks  for 
what  I  have  done  for  the  country,  whatever  that  may 
be, — and  I  owe  none  to  you.  We  cannot  repay  the 
soldiers."  And  yet,  poor  fellows,  they  were  always 
grateful  for  the  smallest  kindnesses,  and  "  magnified  the 
office"  of  the  Commission.  Rev.  F.  P.  Monfort1  pre 
serves  the  testimony  of  a  German,  wounded  in  the 
Wilderness : 

"  Ah,  das  ish  te  Christian  Commission.  He's  te  pesht  man  in  te 
army.  Him  safes  my  life.  He  comes  rount  when  we  lays  in  teWil- 
terness,  all  two  tays  and  two  nights,  unt  no  preat  unt  no  vater,  unt 
no  Doctor,  unt  shust  pick  up  all  uv  um,  unt  give  um  preat  unt  vater, 
unt  nurse  um.  Oh,  him  so  many,  too, — plenty  of  um — unt  him 
Doctor  heself,  unt  bring  him  to  White  House,  unt  bring  um  up  here 
to  te  hospital.  Oh,  he  so  goot !  He's  te  pesht  man  in  tearmy.  Him 
work  shust  like  a  nigger." 


1  Member  of  Whitewater  (O.  S.)  Presbytery,  Indiana. 


AFTER    SPOTTSYLVAXIA    C.    H.  247 

After  the  first  fighting  at  Spottsylvania  C.  H.,  Rev. 

Mr.  Williams  writes : 

Going  through  the  wards  of  the  hospital  at  Laurel  Hill,  my  atten 
tion  was  called  to  some  members  of  the  14th  N.  Y.  Regiment,  who 
wore  weeping  over  a  body  carefully  wrapped  in  an  army  blanket  and 
laid  on  the  ground  in  a  corner  of  the  tent. 

"  Didn't  we  used  to  see  you  at  Culpepper  ?"  said         "A  Short  Cut 

to  Glory." 
one  of  them. 

"  Yes,  probably." 

"  Well,  the  man  who  has  just  died  used  to  attend  the  meetings 
there.  He  was  a  Christian  ;  his  death  was  glorious, — so  peaceful. 
Any  one  would  be  willing  to  die  if  they  could  die  like  him." 

The  blanket  was  carefully  turned  down ;  we  recognized  the  sol 
dier's  features,  and  remembered  our  last  conversation  with  him  in  his 
tent  near  Culpepper.  He  had  been  very  happy  at  the  prospect  of 
soon  returning  home,  as  the  term  of  service  of  his  regiment  was 
nearly  out ;  he  had  told  us  how  glad  he  would  be  at  again  meeting 
wife  and  child,  and  going  once  more  to  church  and  Sabbath-school. 

"  But  then,  you  may  fall ;  there  is  death  ahead,"  we  had  said. 

"  I  know  it ;  if  I  fall,  the  battle-field  will  only  be  a  short  cut  to 
glory." 

Thither  he  had  indeed  gone.  His  comrades  admired  his  life,  saw 
that  his  body  was  buried  with  more  than  the  usual  care.,  and  told 
over  to  themselves  their  willingness  to  depart,  if  they  could  die  as 
he  had  died. 

In  another  division  of  the  hospital  my  attention  was  directed  to  a 
group  of  soldiers  crowding  around  a  fly,  under  which  were  several 
wounded  officers.  The  interest  of  all  seemed  to  centre  upon  the 
slight  form  of  one  of  the  sufferers.  The  star  upon 
his  shoulders  discovered  his  rank.  The  day  was  "  Towards  the 
intensely  hot  and  sultry,  and  the  sides  of  the  fly  were 
raised  a  few  feet  from  the  ground.  The  General's  head  was  towards 
the  centre,  and  his  feet  towards  the  outer  edge  of  the  tent;  a  few 
pine  boughs  were  his  only  couch  ;  one  of  his  legs  had  been  amputated. 
Members  of  his  staff*  stood  weeping  about  him,  or  stooped  fondly 
down  to  catch  his  last  whispered  words.  From  his  moving  lips  it  was 
surmised  that  he  wished  to  be  turned  over. 


248  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Which  way  ?  "  asked  a  Lieutenant. 

"  Towards  the  enemy,"  was  the  indistinct  response,  and  he  was 
carefully  and  lovingly  turned  towards  the  foe,  whose  booming  guns 
were  even  then  telling  of  fearful  carnage  along  the  lines.  A  moment 
later  a  Delegate  bent  over  and  whispering  gently,  said — 

"  How  does  Christ  seem  to  you  now,  General  ?" 

"  Near  by,"  was  the  quickly  but  faintly  spoken  answer,  and  with 
these  words  upon  his  lips,  the  spirit  of  Gen.  Rice  passed  into  the 
better  land. 

All  the  Winter  the  General  had  been  greatly  interested  in  religion. 
He  had  aided  the  Chaplain  of  one  of  his  regiments  in  every  possible 
way, — going  into  the  prayer  meetings  regularly,  and  taking  part 
in  them  with  his  men.  So  that  death  did  not  take  him  by  surprise. 
Quietly  he  sent  his  messages  of  affection  to  his  mother,  and  then 
calmly  and  without  a  fear,  like  a  Christian  hero,  met  the  King  of 
Terrors. 

As  the  army  moved  towards  the  left  in  its  attempt  to 
flank  Lee,  Fredericksburg  became  no  longer  a  suitable 
point  of  communication  with  Washington.  The  wounded 
therefore  were  all  sent  to  the  old  base,  and  Port  Royal 
became  the  new  one.  The  Commission  Delegates  and 
Agents  for  the  most  part  returned  with  the  wounded, 
though  quite  a  number  continued  with  the  advance. 
Before  we  go  forward  with  the  latter,  we  must  retrace 
our  steps  to  the  city  which  shall  ever  be  remembered  as 
one  of  sorrow  and  of  death. 

"  Carleton,"  the  correspondent  of  the  Boston  Journal, 
narrates  the  story  of  two  scenes  dissimilar  outwardly, — 
yet  part  of  the  same  Gospel,  which  every  Delegate, 
whether  by  ministrations  to  the  body  or  soul,  was  alike 
illustrating : 

Go  into  the  hospitals ;  armless,  legless  men,  wounds  of  every  de 
scription.  Men  on  the  hard  floor,  on  the  bare  seats  of  church  pews, 
lying  in  one  position  all  day,  unable  to  stir  till  the  nurse,  going  the 


FREDERICKSBURG.  249 

rounds,  comes  to  their  aid.    They  must  wait  till  their 

„  ,      .  ,  .„  Getting   Straw 

food  comes.     Some  must  be  fed  with  a  spoon,  as  it     ^  the  Wowndedt 

they  were  little  children. 

"  Oh,  that  we  could  get  some  straw  for  the  brave  fellows !"  said 
Kev.  Mr.  Kimball,1  of  the  Christian  Commission.  He  had  wandered 
about  town,  searching  for  the  article.  "  There  is  none  to  be  had.  We 
shall  have  to  send  to  Washington  for  it." 

"  Straw  ?  I  remember  two  stacks,  four  miles  out  on  the  Spottsyl- 
vunia  road.  I  saw  them  last  night,  as  I  galloped  from  the  front." 

Armed  with  a  requisition  from  the  Provost  Marshal  to  seize  two 
stacks  of  straw,  with  two  wagons,  driven  by  intelligent  contrabands, 
and  four  Christian  Commission  Delegates,  away  we  went  across  the 
battle-field  of  December,  fording  Hazel  Run,  gained  the  heights  and 
reached  the  straw  stacks,  owned  by  Rev.  Mr.  Owen  : 

"  By  what  authority  do  you  take  my  property  ?" 

"  The  Provost  Marshal's,  sir." 

Rev.  Mr.  Kimball  was  on  the  stack,  pitching  it  down.  I  was  pitch 
ing  it  in,  and  the  young  men  were  stowing  it  away: 

"Are  you  going  to  pay  me  for  it  ?" 

"  You  must  see  the  Provost  Marshal,  sir.  If  you  are  a  loyal  man, 
and  will  take  the  oath  of  allegiance,  doubtless  you  will  get  your 
pay." 

"  It  is  pretty  hard.  My  children  are  just  ready  to  starve.  I  have 
nothing  for  them  to  eat,  and  you  come  to  take  my  property,  without 
paying  for  it." 

"  Yes,  sir,  war  is  hard.  You  must  remember,  sir,  that  there  are 
thousands  of  wounded  men, — your  wounded  as  well  as  ours.  If  your 
children  are  on  the  point  of  starving,  those  men  are  on  the  point  of 
dying.  We  must  have  the  straw  for  them.  What  we  don't  take  to 
night,  we  will  get  in  the  morning.  Meanwhile,  sir,  if  anybody 
attempts  to  take  it,  please  say  to  them  that  it  is  for  the  hospital,  and 
they  can't  have  it." 

Thus,  with  wagons  stuffed,  we  leave  Rev.  Mr.  Owen,  and  return 
to  make  glad  the  hearts  of  several  thousand  men.  Oh,  how  they 
thank  us ! 

"  Did  you  get  it  for  me  ?     God  bless  you,  sir." 


Kev.  James  P.  Kimball,  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Falmouth,  Mass. 


250  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

It  is  evening.     Thousands  of  soldiers,  just  arrived  from  Washing 
ton,  have  passed  through  the  town  to  take  their  places  at  the  front. 
The  hills  all  around  us  are  white  with  innumerable  tents  and  thou 
sands  of  wagons.     A  band  is  playing  lively  airs  to 
Evening  Scenes.        , 

cheer  the  wounded  in  the  hospitals.     I  have  been 

looking  in  to  see  the  sufferers.  Two  or  three  have  gone.  They  will 
need  no  more  attention.  A  Surgeon  is  at  work  upon  a  ghastly  wound, 
taking  up  the  arteries.  An  attendant  is  pouring  cold  water  upon  a 
swollen  limb.  In  the  Episcopal  church,  a  nurse  is  bolstering  up  a 
wounded  officer  in  the  area  behind  the  altar.  Men  are  lying  in  the 
pews,  on  the  seats,  on  the  floor,  on  boards  on  top  of  the  pews.  Two 
candles  in  the  spacious  building  throw  their  feeble  rays  into  the  dark 
recesses,  faintly  disclosing  the  recumbent  forms.  There  is  heavy, 
stifled  breathing,  as  of  constant  effort  to  suppress  involuntary  cries 
extorted  by  acutest  pain.  Hard  it  is  to  see  them  suffer,  and  not  be 
able  to  relieve  them. 

Passing  into  the  street,  you  see  a  group  of  women,  talking  about 
our  wounded, — Rebel  wounded,  who  are  receiving  their  especial 
attention.  The  Provost  Marshal's  patrol  is  going  its  rounds  to  pre 
serve  order. 

Starting  down  the  street,  you  reach  the  rooms  of  the  Christian 
Commission.  Some  of  the  men  are  writing,  some  eating  their  rations, 
some  dispensing  supplies.  Passing  through  the  rooms,  you  gain  the 

grounds  in  the  rear — a  beautiful  garden  once,  not 

The  Delegates' 

Prayer  Meeting       unattractive  now.      I  he  air  is  redolent  with  honey 
suckle  and  locust  blossoms.     The  pennifolia  is  un 
folding  its  delicate  milk-white  petals ;  roses  are  opening  their  tinted 
leaves. 

Fifty  men  are  gathered  round  a  summer-house, — warm-hearted 
men,  who  have  been  all  day  in  the  hospital.  Their  hearts  have  been 
wrung  by  the  scenes  of  suffering,  in  the  exercise  of  Christian  charity 
imitating  the  example  of  the  Redeemer  of  men.  They  have  given 
bread  for  the  body  and  food  for  the  soul.  They  have  given  cups  of 
cold  water  in  the  name  of  Jesus,  and  prayed  with  those  departing  to 
the  silent  land.  The  moonlight  shimmers  through  the  leaves  of  the 
locust. 

The  little  congregation  breaks  into  singing — 


FREDERICKSBURG.  251 

"  Come,  Thou  fount  of  every  blessing." 

After  the  hymn,  a  Chaplain  says — 

"  Brethren,  I  had  service  this  afternoon  in  the  First  Division  Hos 
pital  of  the  Second  Corps.  The  Surgeon  in  charge,  before  prayer, 
asked  all  who  desired  to  be  prayed  for,  to  raise  their  hands,  and 
nearly  every  man  who  had  a  hand,  raised  it.  Let  us  remember  them 
in  our  prayers  to-night." 

A  man  in  the  summer-house, — so  far  off,  that  I  cannot  distinguish 
him  in  the  shadow, — says — 

"  There  is  manifestly  a  spirit  of  prayer  among  the  soldiers  in  the 
Second  Division  of  the  Sixth  Corps  Hospital.  Every  man  there 
raised  his  hand  for  prayers !" 

Similar  remarks  are  made  by  others,  and  then  there  are  earnest 
prayers  offered  that  God  will  bless  them,  relieve  their  sufferings,  give 
them  patience,  restore  them  to  health;  that  He  will  remember  the 
widow  and  fatherless  far  away — that  Jesus  may  be  their  Friend. 

Ah  !  this  night  scene !  There  was  an  allusion,  by  one  who  prayed, 
to  the  garden  scene  of  Gethsemane,  to  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God, 
and,  in  connection  therewith,  to  the  blood  shed  for  our  country. 

The  report  of  Delegate  S.  J.  Parker,  a  Surgeon  from 
Ithaca,  N.  Y.,  may  represent  the  extent  and  value  of 
the  work  effected  by  the  Commission  volunteers  who 
were  of  his  profession  : 

I  arrived  at  Belle  Plain  about  5  P.  M.  on  the  13th,  and  found 
in  tents,  ambulances  and  wagons,  about  four  hundred  wounded  men. 
I  spent  about  five  hours  in  aiding  in  the  care  of  wounds,  and  returned 
at  about  11  or  12  o'clock,  leaving  another  Delegate, 

Surgeon's  Work. 


Dr.  Reed,  of  Philadelphia,  in  charge.     At  3  o'clock 


A.  M.,  I  again  took  charge  of  them,  and  continued 

on  duty  till  10  A.  M.,  when  the  day-Surgeons  came.    I  left,  and  writh 

a  party  of  other  Delegates  went  on  foot  to  Fredericksburg. 

On  my  arrival  there  I  proceeded,  after  an  hour's  rest,  to  the  hos 
pitals,  which  had  just  received  newly-wounded  men,  and  dressed 
wounds  until  midnight,  by  which  time  all  were  made  comfortable  and 
T  returned  to  rest  at  the  Commission  rooms.  Next  morning  I  re- 


252  CHEISTIAN    COMMISSION"    INCIDENTS. 

ported  early  to  Medical  Director  Dalton,  and,  with  Dr.  Seed,  was 
temporarily  put  in  charge  of  Hospital  D,  Second  Division,  Sixth 
Corps.  The  two  warehouses  were  but  partially  cleared,  when  an 
ambulance  train  with  303  wounded  arrived.  It  took  us  from  9  A. 
M.  till  3  P.  M.  to  unload  the  train,  and  get  the  men  comfortably 
arranged.  At  3  P.  M.  we  began  dressing  wounds.  After  a  few  hours 
my  right  hand  became  poisoned  from  foetid  discharges,  and  at  11  P. 
M.  was  disabled,  and  my  arm  excessively  painful.  I  called  in  an  old 
army  nurse — a  good,  faithful  man,  and  kept  on  dressing  till  about 
two  o'clock  the  next  morning,  when  I  left  Dr.  Eeed  on  duty. 

The  number  of  wounded  I  aided  directly  was  703,  besides  casual 
calls  for  aid  upon  one  or  two  hundred  more.  I  made  with  my  hands 
at  least  three  thousand  dressings  of  wounds.  I  had  charge  of  the  North 
tobacco  and  wheat  warehouse.  We  had  a  daily  prayer  meeting  in 
the  hospital. 

The  story  of  Geo.  W.  Miller,  as  gathered  from  him 
self  and  his  two  Commission  friends,1  is  remarkable  for 
its  exhibition  of  earnest  hope  and  faith : 

Enlisting  early  in  the  war,  Miller's  regiment  had  been  detailed  for 
detached  service,  and  had  not  joined  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  until 
late  in  the  Summer  of  1863.     When  he  enlisted  he  was  not  a  Chris 
tian,  though  from  early  childhood  he  had  entertained 
Man  Immortal       &  gt  ^^  iQ  be(jome  &   minister  of  the  Gospel. 

till  his   Work  is 
j)one-  ihe  abundant  period  for  reflection  afforded  by  the 

duty  his  regiment  was  engaged  in,  set  him  thinking 
upon  his  past  life  and  upon  the  possible  dangers  of  the  future.  His 
youthful  yearning  to  be  a  minister  came  back  also.  Unaided  by 
any  special  religious  influences,  save  the  encouragement  and  faithful 
Christian  life  of  a  comrade,  he  decided  to  become  a  Christian.  Dur 
ing  the  Winter  at  Brandy  Station,  Miller  attended  the  Commission 
chapel  and  renewed  his  vows.  He  became  much  attached  to  Kev. 
Mr.  Whitney,  one  of  the  Delegates,  and  during  several  months  aided 
him  in  his  labors  among  the  soldiers. 


1  Eev.  Nelson  Whitney,  Minister  of  the  Metli.  Episc.  Church,  Sebec,  Maine, 
and  Wm.  Ballantyne,  Esq.,  President  of  the  Washington  Branch  Christian  Com- 


FKEDERICKSBUEG.  253 

He  was  severely  wounded  on  the  second  day's  fighting  of  the  Wil 
derness  battles.  For  twenty-four  hours  he  remained  on  the  field. 
The  Surgeon  who  examined  his  wound  refused  to  operate,  because 
death  was  inevitable.  Then  followed  a  sixty  hours'  ambulance  ride 
to  Fredericksburg.  Here  again  a  Surgeon  examined  him,  and  again 
his  wound  was  pronounced  fatal. 

Three  or  four  days  of  intense  suffering  were  passed  in  the  hospital 
at  Fredericksburg,  until  at  last  Rev.  Mr.  Whitney  found  him  out. 
Miller  had  never  for  a  moment  allowed  himself  to  think  that  his 
recovery  was  hopeless.  His  firm  faith  found  vent  in  memorable 
words : 

"Mr.  Whitney,  the  Surgeon  says  I  must  die;  but  I  do  not  feel  that 
my  work  is  done  yet.  When  I  gave  myself  to  God,  last  Winter,  I 
promised  Him  that  I  would  labor  for  His  cause  in  the  Gospel  min 
istry.  I  feel  that  He  has  a  work  for  me  to  do ;  and  I  believe  that 
man  is  immortal  till  his  work  is  done.  Can't  you  do  something 
for  me  ?" 

Mr.  Whitney  did  his  best,  procuring  straw  and  a  blanket, — the 
half  of  one  belonging  to  Mr.  Cole,  the  Potomac  Army  Field  Agent, 
— and  laying  the  soldier  upon  a  bed  which  seemed  to  him  then  the 
softest  he  had  ever  known.  A  few  days  passed,  and  a  third  surgical 
consultation  was  held.  The  decision  was  in  these  words — 

"  You  will  recover,  but  it  is  the  most  miraculous  escape  we  have 
ever  seen." 

He  was  transferred  to  Armory  Square  Hospital,  Washington,  on 
May  26th  ;  here  again  the  wound  was  pronounced  mortal.  Mr.  Bal- 
lantyne,  who  visited  him  at  this  time,  bears  testimony  to  his  cheerful, 
unwavering  confidence.  There  was  no  fear,  no  concern  about  his 
life ;  that  was  not  in  danger.  His  desire  was  to  do  His  Master's  will. 
On  the  6th  of  June  the  ball  was  extracted.  But  it  was  not  until 
very  many  months  had  passed  that  the  soldier  could  leave  the  hos 
pital.  In  accordance  with  his  early  determination,  he  is  preparing 
to  preach  the  Gospel  of  Peace. 

Mr.  E.  M.  Heydrick,  of  Brooklyn,  with  a  party  of 
about  forty  Delegates,  left  Belle  Plain  for  Fredericksburg, 
on  May  15th.  He  relates  an  incident  of  the  road  : 


254  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Our  wagons  got  behind,  and  we  took  occasion   to  eat  a  lunch. 

While  standing  alone,  making  away  with  the  small  portion  that  had 

been  handed  me,  a  tall,  noble-looking  soldier  approached  and  said — 

"  Friend,  can  you  spare  a  little  of  that, — I  am  so 

hungry  ?     I  have  not  tasted  food  for  two  davs." 

Hungry. 

"Certainly,"  I  replied;  and  as  I  handed  him  what 
I  had,  I  noticed  for  the  first  time  that  his  arms  were  both  disabled : 

"  I  have  no  hands  to  feed  myself  with.  Will  you  please  put  it  to 
my  mouth  ?" 

As  I  did  so,  his  tears  of  gratitude  fell  on  my  hand.  "  God  bless 
you,  my  friend  !"  said  he,  and  the  way  in  which  he  uttered  the  words 
was  worth  a  dozen  dinners. 

The  instances  of  the  strength  of  the  willingness  of 
the  soldier  and  his  friends  to  submit  to  sacrifice  are 
numberless.  Rev.  Mr.  Williams  records  these  two  : 

An  old  man  who  had  come  to  visit  his  two  sons  in  the  army,  found 
them  both  wounded.   When  asked,  as  he  sat  between 

his  maimed  boys,  if  he  regretted   the  sacrifice,  he 
Give  up  all. 

raised  his  hands  and  exclaimed  most  earnestly — 

"  No ;  if  I  had  twenty  sons,  I  would  give  them  all  to  save  this 
Union !" 

In  a  Delegate's  diary  I  found  this  entry:  A  private  of  the  llth 
Maine  was  mortally  wounded  a  few  days  since.     As  his  companions 
started  to  carry  him  to  the  rear,  he  looked  up  to  his  regimental  com 
mander,    and   said,  in   generous  thoughtfulness   of 

Noble    to    the          , 
T  others — 

Last. 

"Don't  trouble  the  boys  to  carry  me  back,  Colonel  ; 
it  will  only  tire  them.  I  can  live  but  a  few  minutes,  and  can  just  as 
well  die  here." 

Rev.  Dr.  J.  Wheaton  Smith1  finds  the  same  exhibition 
of  sacrifice : 

One  poor  fellow,  taking  me  for  a  Surgeon,  said, — 


1  Pastor  of  Spruce   St.  Baptist   Church,  Philadelphia.     The    incidents  were 
related  at  the  Washington  Anniversary  of  the  Commission,  January,  18G5. 


FKEDEPaCKSBUPvGr.  255 

"  Sir,  will  you  dress  my  wound  ?" 

I  am  not  a  doctor,  but  I  did  my  best.     I  took  off  the  bandage, 
sponged  away  the  hard  incrustation  that  had  gath 
ered  upon  the  wound,  and  found  that  his  sight  was       Going  Through 

•  it  Again. 

entirely  gone ;  he  had  been  shot  through  the  eyes 

and  the  bridge  of  the  nose. 

"  Poor  fellow  !"  I  said  to  him,  "  this  is  hard." 

"Yes,  it  is  hard ;  but  I  would  go  through  it  again  for  my  country," 
Right  beside  him  there  lay  a  man  upon  a  stretcher,  strong  and 
noble-looking,  but  he  was  shot  through  the  head.  His  eyes  were 
closed ;  he  knew  no  one ;  could  answer  to  no  voice,  and  yet  he  still 
breathed.  I  never  shall  forget  how  that  massive 
chest  heaved  up  and  down.  We  watched  him  for 
hours,  thinking  every  hour  would  be  his  last.  All  night  he  lay 
there  motionless  save  that  heaving  bosom.  In  the  morning  he  was 
no  better,  but  he  began  to  move  his  feet.  Evidently  he  thought  he 
was  marching,  and  he  marched  till  he  died — tramp,  tramp,  tramp — 
dead,  but  marching  on ! 

From  the  reminiscences  of  Rev.  Herrick  Johnson 1  we 
extract  the  incidents  which  follow  : 

I  remember  Aaron  Lamb,  a  soldier  from  Maine,  who  had  lost  his 
left  leg.  The  little  delicacies  and  attentions  had  opened  his  heart. 
He  had  told  me  of  his  widowed  mother  and  loving  sisters,  and  I  had 

written  his  message  home,  and  back  came  their  noble 

The  Rest  of  God. 
answer,  saying — 

"  We  cannot,  as  a  family,  both  brothers  and  sisters,  express  our 
gratitude  enough  to  Him  who  ruleth  all  things,  if  from  the  glorious 
Army  of  the  Potomac  He  give  us  back  our  darling  with  only  the 
loss  of  one  leg." 

And  from  that  couch  of  suffering  was  sent  up  a  message  to  heaven 
also.  And  that,  I  believe,  found  answer — more  blessed  even  than 
the  message  home.  For  hours  and  days  he  had  been  lying  on  the 
hard  floor  with  nothing  but  a  blanket  under  him,  restless  and  sleep- 


1  Pastor  of  (N.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Pittsburg,  Pa.     The  incidents  are 
from  his  address  at  the  Closing  Exercises  of  the  Commission  at  the  Capitol. 


256  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

less  from  the  shock  his  nervous  system  had  received.  There  in  the 
dusk  of  evening,  with  his  hand  close  clasped  in  mine,  the  patient 
hero  breathed  his  low  prayer — 

"  O  Father,  God,  be  pitiful — be  merciful — give  me  rest — rest  of 
body  and  of  soul — oh,  give  me  rest." 

And  the  hard  floor  seemed  to  grow  woolly  soft,  as  if  Jesus  had 
pillowed  it,  and  rest,  "  of  rest  God's  rest  the  best,"  came  to  that  tired 
heart.  "  He  shall  cover  thee  with  His  feathers,  and  under  His  wings 
shalt  thou  trust." 

I  saw  another  with  both  legs  off  close  to  the  thigh.  When  I  spoke 
to  him  of  the  sacrifice  he  had  made  for  his  country,  he  answered — 

"  My  country  demands  it  and  my  Saviour  demands  it.     I  believe 

that  the  kingdom  of  Christ  will  be  advanced  by  this 

Compensation.  ,, 

war. 

Another  said,  "  I  am  ready  to  go  home  to  my  parents,  home  to 
Christ,  or  back  to  the  war." 

This  is  the  spirit  of  the  army, — of  Christian,  patient  endurance. 
Down  from  the  throne  of  the  Highest,  through  the  lifted  clouds 
whose  bosom  had  been  charged  with  thunderbolts  of  wrath,  come 
these  gleams  of  light,  in  waves  of  life  and  immortality,  telling  to  the 
people  that  God  is  not  forgetting  to  be  gracious. 

I  recall  another,  a  young  Sergeant,  one  of  whose  limbs  had  been 
sadly  shattered.     He  was  a  brave,  patient  boy,  but  remarkably  reti 
cent,  resolutely  maintaining  a  cold  reserve.     For  days  he  was  proof 
against  all  kindness,  but  at   last  I  found  the   way 
Going  up  among     down  int()  hig  Cart's  secrct  place  of  tenderness  and 
the  Stars.  ,  .      ,      ., 

tears,  and  the  great  drops  wet  his  cheeks  as  he  told 

me  how  he  had  run  away  from  home  and  almost  broken  his  mother's 
heart.  He  said  his  own  pain  was  nothing  to  the  trouble  he  had 
given  her. 

"  Shall  I  write  to  your  mother,"  I  asked,  "  and  tell  her  how  and 
where  you  are  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  he;  "but  break  the  news  gently,  break  it  gently; 
and  oh,  tell  her  how  sorry  I  am  for  having  laid  such  a  burden  on 
her  loving  heart." 

And  then  we  talked  of  another  home  he  had  wandered  from  and 
another  heart  he  had  grieved,  and  I  asked  him  if  he  had  not  a  peni 
tent  message  to  send  home  to  God.  Ere  long  I  believe  there  was  joy 


FREDERICKSBUEG.  257 

in  the  presence  of  the  angels  over  the  return  of  one  more  prodigal. 
The  Surgeons  at  last  decided  that  his  leg  must  be  amputated,  and 
very  soon  it  became  manifest  that  even  this  would  not  save  him,  and 
\ve  told  him  he  must  die.  He  was  ready  ;  arms,  haversack,  canteen, 
blanket,  —  all  had  been  lost  on  the  battle-field,  but  he  had  clung  to 
the  flag  he  bore,  and  he  lay  there  with  the  stars  and  stripes  wrapped 
about  him.  Just  as  he  was  dying  his  lips  moved.  We  stooped  to 
listen.  He  was  making  his  last  charge  : 

"Come  on,  boys!  our  country  and  our  flag  for  ever!" 

We  asked  him,  "Is  the  Saviour  with  you?" 

He  whispered,  "  Do  you  think  He  would  pass  by  and  not  take  me? 
I  go,  I  go."  And  wrapped  in  stars  he  went  up  among  the  stars. 

There  lies  a  young  soldier  wounded  unto  death  : 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,  my  brave  fellow?" 

"Speak  to  me  of  Jesus;"  and  the  words  that  suggest  themselves 
are  — 


«  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul,  to  me 

Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly." 

"Oh,  won't  you  sing  them,  sir?"  And  another  wounded  soldier 
lying  near,  takes  up  the  words  and  sings. 

And  then  the  dying  drummer-boy  repeats  the  prayer,  and  even 
while  the  words  are  on  his  lips  the  prayer  is  answered,  and  his  soul 
is  away  on  its  flight  to  the  bosom  of  Jesus. 

Rev.  Horace  C.  Hovey1  writes  of  the  power  of  the 
"  Precious  Name  :  " 

A  brave  cavalry  officer  was  dying  of  his  wounds.     He  was  deliri 
ous  when  I  approached  him.     He  thought  himself  on  the  field  at  the 
head  of  his  gallant  men,  and  fancied  that  a  heavy  gun  was  just  in 
front  of  them,  ready  to  be  fired.     His  distress  was 
great.     At  length  he  thought  the  gun  had  been  dis-  The  Father's 

charged,  and  his  men,  badly  cut  up,  were  retreating. 
Here  I  interposed,  saying  — 

"There  is  no  gun  there;  you  are  safe  among  friends  here  in 
Fredericksburg." 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Florence,  Mass. 

17 


258  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Let  me  alone,"  he  sternly  replied  ;  "  I  must  recover  my  command 
and  renew  the  attack." 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  let  us  not  talk  of  battle-scenes.  You  are  soon  to 
die.  Let  us  talk  of  Jesus." 

The  mention  of  that  name  seemed  to  exert  the  powerful  influence  I 
had  often  heard  ascribed  to  it.  His  agitation  ceased  at  once;  his  deli 
rium  passed  away;  a  smile  lit  up  his  pallid  features.  After  a  moment's 
silence  he  said,  in  a  low,  sweet  voice — 

"  Jesus  !  Jesus  !  It  is  He  who  said,  '  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.'  I  want  rest ; 
I  am  weary ;  can  you  sing,  '  There  is  rest  for  the  weary  ? ' " 

I  complied  with  his  wishes,  and  with  failing,  faltering  tongue,  he 
tried  to  join  in  the  song, — 

"  In  the  Christian's  home  of  glory 
There  remains  a  land  of  rest." 

We  sang  the  hymn  entirely  through,  and  when  we  closed  there 
was  not  a  dry  eye  in  all  that  ward.  He  died  soon  after  this,  saying 
for  his  last  words — 

"  I  have  no  Father  here  but  my  Heavenly  Father." 

Eev.  Geo.  Bringhurst  tells  the  story  of  another 
hymn : 

Passing  through  the  woolen  factory  at  Fredericksburg, — my  im 
mense  parish  of  wounded,  dying  men,  I  heard  a  low,  mournful  voice 
singing — 

Hidden  with  "  While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath  ; 

Christ  in  God.  When  mine  eyelids  close  in  death ; 

When  I  rise  to  worlds  unknown, 
And  behold  Thee  on  Thy  throne, — 
Kock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee." 

There  were  some  pauses  in  the  verse,  as  if  strength  were  failing  the 
singer.  A  look,  as  I  passed  on  my  errand,  told  me  that  the  soldier 
was  dying.  Next  morning,  the  last  "fleeting  breath"  had  been 


FREDERICKSBUEG.  259 

rawn,  the  eyelids  were  "closed  in  death,"  and  the  life  that  had  gone 


I 

was  hid  with  Christ  in  God.1 


In  the  same  woolen-factory  hospital,  Mr.  Stuart2  found 
a  Massachusetts  soldier,  who  seemed  to  be  the  happiest 
man  in  Fredericksburg : 

I  found  550  patients,  suffering  from  every  variety  of  wounds  and 
injuries.  As  I  passed  one  cot,  my  eye  was  caught  by  a  happy  and 
contented  face.  I  stopped  and  spoke  to  the  soldier : 

"  You  seem  happy,  my  friend.     I  trust  it  is  be- 

P  .  ,    .      ™    .  ,   .     ~        „  Peace  past  all 

cause  your  faith  in  Christ  is  nrm.  TT  ,          _. 

Understanding. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  "  I  took  Him  with  me  to  the 
army." 

"I  trust  you  are  not  much  hurt?"  I  continued,  deceived  by  his 
pleasant  face.  He  rolled  down  the  coverlet  and  showed  me  that 
both  legs  were  gone: 

"  You  have  made  a  noble  contribution  to  your  country." 

"  I  have  given  all  but  my  life,  and  am  ready  to  give  that  if  she 
needs  it." 

His  name  was  D.  N ,  of  Boston, — 22d  Mass.  Regt.     I  learned 

afterwards  that,  while  being  removed  from  the  town,  he  died  in  the 
same  peace  in  the  strength  of  which  he  had  suffered. 

Mr.  Isaac  Baker,  of  Philadelphia,  upon  reaching 
Fredericksburg  as  a  Delegate,  was  told  that  his  son,  who 


1  Mr.  S.  E.  Bridgman,  of  Northampton,  Mass.,  relates  an  incident  very  similar 
to  the  above:  "Afar  off,  under  the  machinery  of  a  mill,  I  heard  the  'voice  of 
singing.'     It  reminded  me  of  Paul  and  Silas  singing  their  praises  in  the  guarded 
dungeon.     I  walk  over  and  lean  upon  the  ponderous  wheel.     Near  me,  rises  a 
voice,  sweet  and  clear,  and  the  holy  strains  are — 

'"While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath.' 

But  soon  the  earth  receded  from  the  eyes  of  the  soldier-boy,  and  the  lips  that 
gave  forth  so  sweet  a  strain  were  still ;  while  the  spirit  of  the  man  walked  in  the 
light  of  the  angels  over  the  crystal  pavement  of  the  New  Jerusalem." 

2  Who  at  this  time  accompanied  Kt.  Kev.  Bishop  Mcllvaine,  of  Ohio,  on  a 
memorable  visit  to  the  army. 


260  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

had  been  engaged  in  the  battles,  was  wounded.  The 
sight  of  the  misery  he  had  come  to  relieve  was  too  ter 
rible  to  allow  him  to  leave  his  post  and  search  for  his 
boy.  In  the  trust  that  he  would  find  kind  care, 
wherever  he  was,  he  faithfully  fulfilled  his  allotted 
work.  From  his  report  we  make  these  extracts  : 

On  the  first  morning  I  held  a  little  service  of  singing  and  prayer 

in  my  division,  with  the  common  consent  of  the  men,  and  told  them 

the  simple  and  touching  story  of  a  little  girl  who  had  lost  her  father, 

but  did  not  understand  the  dread  nature  of  death 

p   hu  anc^  ^e  §rave<    -E-er  m°ther  explained  through  tears, 

that  God  had  sent  for  father,  and  that  by  and  bye 

He  would  send  for  them,  and  there  was  no  telling  how  soon.     The 

artless  child  on  this  exclaimed — 

"  Well,  then,  mother,  if  God  is  going  to  send  for  us  soon,  and  we 
don't  know  just  when,  hadn't  we  better  begin  to  pack  up  and  get 
ready  to  go  ?" 

This  incident  seemed  to  take  hold  of  the  men,  it  could  so  well 
be  applied  to  their  present  needs. 

"Ah,  Chaplain,"  said  one  to  me  afterwards,  "  I'm  glad  you  told  us 
that  story  about  packing  up ;  it  made  the  thing  so  plain  to  me.  I 
haven't  much  learning,  and  I  haven't  tried  to  understand  these  things 
much,  but  now  I  see  through  it  all.  I  want  you  to  help  me  pack  up. 
Will  you  pray  with  me,  Chaplain  ?" 

I  knelt  by  his  side.  While  speaking  with  God,  the  earnest  heart 
cried  out,  "  Oh  do,  Lord,  help  me,  help  me."  It  was  a  solemn  sea 
son.  The  Holy  Spirit  was  there.  "  This  poor  man  cried  and  the 
Lord  heard  him."  I  was  about  to  go  to  another  who  had  beckoned 
to  me,  when  the  dear  boy  said — 

"  Oh,  I  thank  you,  Chaplain ;  I  am  happy  now ;  I  have  found 
Jesus !" 

He  was  radiant  with  ioy,  so  that  I  wondered.     I 

Peace  Within.  J   J 

said  to  him — 

"  But  what  of  your  body  ?"  Pie  had  been  shot  through  the  right 
shoulder  and  left  leg,  and  had  an  arm  taken  off.  "  Do  you  suffer 
much  now?" 


FKEDERICKSBURG.  261 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  my  wounds  are  nothing  now.  I  can  bear  them 
all — I  have  peace  within." 

At  his  request  I  sat  down  with  a  full  heart  and  wrote  to  his  wife, 
informing  her  of  his  condition  of  body,  but  with  particular  emphasis, 
as  he  urged,  of  the  blessed  change  that  had  come  over  his  soul.  In 
deed  it  was  wonderful  to  see  the  forgetfulness  of  bodily  suffering  in 
the  new-found  joy  which  filled  this  wounded  soldier's  heart. 

We  sang  "  Rest  for  the  weary,"  and  one  man,  whose  whole  thigh 
had  been  shattered  by  a  shell,  lay  there  perfectly  calm,  patient,  even 
happy.  He  smiled  as  I  came  to  him,  and  said — 

"  Oh,  how  that  hymn  cheered  me  !     I  forgot  my         Rest  for   the 
pains  whilst  I  listened  to  it ;  and  I  know  it  cheered       Weary. 
many  of  the  boys." 

One   group   of  sufferers   claimed    my   deepest   sympathy.     Four 
Indians  from  Wisconsin  lay  together,  bleeding  for  the  country  that 
had   once  been   the   wide   domain    of   their   fathers.     I   lay  down 
close  to  one  and  spoke  of  Jesus  and  His  salvation, 
His  eye  brightened.     He  had   heard    that  blessed          The 
name  before,  and  in  his  broken  way  said —  Shore. 

"  I  love  Him,  I  love  Him !" 

I  commended  his  spirit  to  God,  and  then  sang  him  to  sleep — for 
he  died  while  we  were  singing  that  sweet  chorus — 

"  For,  oh,  we  stand  on  Jordan's  strand, 

Our  friends  are  passing  over, 
And  just  before,  the  shining  shore 
We  may  almost  discover. 

The  other  three  Indians  were  unable  to  speak.  May  God  help 
them.  I  gave  them  some  refreshment  and  left  them. 

Mr.  E.  M.  Heydrick  relates  an  incident  showing  how 
valuable  at  times  were  Bible  words  to  soothe  and  calm 
men  agonized  with  pain  : 

A  young  soldier,  John  Wagner,  of  the  60th  Ohio  Regt.,  was 
brought  in ;  he  had  been  shot  through  the  stomach.  So  great  was 
his  agony  that  he  filled  the  building  with  cries.  He  could  not  lie  in 


262  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

one  position,  but  kept  two  or  three  turning  him  from 

TIat"™      Tay      si(te  to  side.     Famishing  with  hunger,  he  would  eat 

all   that   was   given    him,   but   it   would   come  out 

through  the  bullet-holes.     He  kept  begging  that  we  would  send  to 

the  front  for  his  brother,  but  this  was  impossible.     We  asked  him— 

"  Have  you  never  heard  of  that  '  Friend  that  sticketh  closer  than 
a  brother  ?'  He  alone  can  help  you ;  you  have  but  to  ask  Him  in 
prayer,  and  He  will  help  you." 

"I  do  not  know  how  to  pray,"  was  his  answer. 

I  took  a  little  card  containing  Scripture  texts,  and  read  the  motto, 
"Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you,"  and  the  prayer,  "Heal  me,  O  Lord, 
and  I  shall  be  healed  ;  save  me,  and  I  shall  be  saved."  Out  of  his 
agony,  he  exclaimed — 

"  Please  read  the  prayer  again."     I  did  so. 

"  I  can  pray  that ;"  and  he  kept  repeating  it  aloud,  over  and  over 
again.  That  night  the  bullet-holes  in  his  stomach  closed,  and  for 
the  first  time  he  became  quiet  enough  to  sleep. 

One  incident  related  by  Mr.  S.  E.  Bridgman  will 
serve  to  show  the  reflex  influence  which  was  exerted 
upon  the  soldiers'  friends  at  home : 

One  night,  after  evening  prayers,  a  man  came  to  our  tent  and  with 
tears  asked  the  Delegates  to  pray  for  him : 

"  I  have  navigated  every  channel  to  perdition,  but  now  I  want  to 

lead  a  different  life." 
.1   Gladdened          He  wag  pointeci  to  jesus.     He  looked  and  lived. 

"  Oh,"  said  he  the  next  day,  "  how  easy  it  is  to  be  a 
Christian !  I  did  not  suppose  it  was  so  easy.  I  thought  it  was  a 
long  and  very  troublesome  way ;  I  just  asked  with  all  my  heart,  and 
I  hadn't  to  wait  for  the  answer;— I  just  prayed  to  God  and  light 
came  in  at  once.  How  glorious  everything  is !  Even  this  Virginia 
mud  now  seems  to  have  become  beautiful." 

A  week  after,  with  a  bright  and  joyous  smile,  he  came  to  our  quar 
ters  with  an  open  letter  just  received  from  his  wife,  describing  the 
scene  at  home  on  the  reception  of  the  news  of  his  conversion.  She 
had  begun  the  letter  aloud,  but  when  she  found  how  her  prayers  had 
been  answered,  she  could  read  no  more.  Her  mother  took  the  letter 


FREDERICKSBUKG.  263 

and  tried  to  read,  with  the  same  result.  There  were  present  with  the 
family  four  boarders,  former  boon-companions  in  sin  of  the  infidel 
husband.  One  of  these  volunteered  to  read  the  letter,  and  that  very 
night  at  a  prayer  meeting  they  all  rose  for  prayers.  All  were  con 
verted,  and  sent  word  to  their  friend  in  the  army  that  they  would 
meet  him  in  heaven. 

Mr.  E.  M.  Heydrick,  on  the  way  from  Belle  Plain  to 
Fredericksburg,  met  with  an  instance  of  a  life  saved  by 
a  Bible  : 

Mr.  Beach1  and  myself  came  to  a  stream  where  we  met  a  group  of 
soldiers  crossing  on  a  log.  While  waiting,  I  noticed  one  of  them,2 
of  noble  form  and  countenance,  looking  rather  sad.  I  approached, 
saying  — 


"  I  trust  you  love  Jesus  —do  you  not  ?  "  Word  a 

"  Do  you  not  think,"  he  replied,  "  I  ought  to  love 
Him  ?    See  what  His  word  did  for  me." 

Opening  his  coat  and  blouse,  he  drew  from  a  shirt-pocket  over  his 
heart  a  small  Bible.  In  battle,  two  days  before,  a  minie  ball  from 
the  enemy  had  entered  it  on  the  front  side,  and  coming  out  at  the 
edge,  had  passed  around  his  side,  laying  open  the  flesh  to  the  bone. 
The  blood  was  still  on  his  shirt. 

"Were  you  a  Christian,"  I  asked,  "before  entering  the  service?" 
"Yes,  sir  ;  only  a  short  time  previous  I  became  a  Christian  ;  the 
day  before  I  left  home  my  sister  came  to  me  and  said,  'Harlem,  will 
you  take  this  and  carry  it  near  your  heart  for  my  sake?'" 

Gen.  Grant's  flanking  advance  from  Spottsylvania 
C.  H.  was  towards  the  North  Anna.  He  found  Lee 
admirably  posted  to  dispute  the  passage  of  the  river,  and 
although  the  crossing  was  successfully  begun,  yet  the 
enemy's  lines  were  so  strong  that  Grant  decided  not  to 
attack  them.  The  river  was  recrossed  ;  another  short 


1  Mr.  Lewis  Beach,  of  Brooklyn. 

2  Harlem  T.  Garnett,  20th  Mich.  Inf. 


264  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

march  to  the  east,  and  again  the  long  columns  turned 
southward.  On  May  28th  the  Pamunkey  was  passed 
and  the  new  base  at  White  House  established.  Again 
the  Confederate  army,  moving  along  the  chord  of  the 
circle,  was  able  to  face  Grant  at  Cold  Harbor  with  strong 
fortifications.  Here  on  June  1st,  began  another  engage 
ment.  The  grand  assault  was  made  on  the  3d;  in  it 
our  army  was  signally  repulsed.  Several  days  of  delay 
were  spent  before  the  hostile,  frowning  works.  Finally, 
on  June  14th  and  15th,  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
was  transferred  to  the  south  side  of  the  James,  to  operate 
henceforth  against  the  southern  approaches  to  the  Con 
federate  capital. 

The  following  account  of  an  ordinary  experience, 
detailed  by  Rev.  Horace  C.  Hovey,  shows  how  the  hard 
ships  of  the  journeys  of  this  campaign  weighed  upon 
men  unused  to  the  service — exhibiting  by  contrast  the 
soldier's  sufferings  and  endurance : 

The  hardships  endured  while  Grant  was  effecting  his  famous  flank 

movements  from  Spottsylvania  to  City  Point  will  never  be  forgotten 

nor  adequately  described.     Our  little  company  of  seven,  selected  to 

go  with  the  Fifth  Army  Corps,  was  made  up  of  men 

A   Toilsome        not  jnure(j  to  hardships.     For  three  days  and  three 
March.  J 

nights  we  did  not  unharness  our  horses,  or  take  what, 

even  in  army  life,  would  be  called  a  regular  meal.  Most  of  us  mean 
while  had  been  marching  on  foot,  and  were  thoroughly  jaded  by  our 
double  duty  of  keeping  up  with  the  army  and  doing  good  as  we  ad 
vanced.  The  third  night  found  us  on  the  edge  of  an  immense  forest. 
Of  necessity  we  proceeded  slowly  amid  the  sturdy  trunks  of  giant 
pines.  Through  their  branches  the  night  wind  sighed  and  moaned, 
while  the  warm  Spring  rain  fell  in  torrents.  The  darkness  was 
Egyptian ;  the  road  grew  worse  and  worse.  By  accident  we  had 
become  separated  from  our  wagon-train.  Only  two  Delegates  with 
strength  enough  to  work  remained  with  the  wagon,  and  the  driver 


BEYOND    SPOTTSYLVANIA    C.    H.  265 

was  worn  out  and  surly.  To  complete  our  dismay,  we  were  passing 
through  a  swamp  about  midnight  when  our  wagon  sank  to  the 
axles  in  mud,  with  one  fore-wheel  planted  square  against  a  tree. 
Our  only  source  of  appeal  was  to  mule-drivers  who  now  and  then 
passed  by.  But  they,  like  ourselves,  had  lost  their  train,  and  with 
curses,  all  undeserved,  told  us  to  get  out  as  best  we  could.  With  rails 
we  pried  the  wheel  from  the  tree,  but  our  exhausted  animals  refused 
to  pull.  Neither  caresses  nor  blows  would  avail;  these  stores 
gathered  by  Christian  love,  we  could  not  abandon  to  the  guerillas  ;  so 
in  the  pitchy  darkness,  we  two  unloaded  the  wagon  of  every  box, 
barrel  and  bundle  ;  with  spades  we  dug  away  the  clay  that  had 
packed  itself  about  the  wheels,  and  then  pushing  the  empty  vehicle 
by  main  force  against  the  heels  of  the  horses,  compelled  them  to  go 
forward.  The  wagon  once  more  on  solid  ground,  we  reloaded  our 
stores,  and  soon  emerged  from  the  forest.  Now  we  realized  that  we 
were  alone  in  an  enemy's  country  ;  not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard  in 
that  dead  of  night,  save  the  rumble  of  our  wagon-wheels.  Ignorant 
of  the  lay  of  the  land,  we  drove  into  a  field,  built  a  fire  of  rails, 
spread  our  blankets  in  the  open  air  and  lay  down  to  a  rest,  never 
before  so  quiet  and  so  sweet. 

From  the  narrative  of  E.  A.  Band  the  following  two 
reminiscences  are  taken  : 

On  June  9th,  while  assisting  to  move  the  wounded  to  the  boats  at 
White  House  Landing,  I  met  my  friend  Capt.  Wm.  Fitz  Williams, 
of  the  2d  K  Y.  Mounted  Rifles.  In  the  battle  at  Cold  Harbor  he 
had  received  a  wound,  from  which  he  had  partially 

recovered.    Anxious  to  be  at  his  post,  he  was  return- 

.  ~  Trust;     and    a 

mg  to  his  regiment  against  the  advice  of  his  feur- 


geon.     I  invited  him  to  the  evening  meeting  in  our 
chapel.     He  told  us  there  the  story  of  his  conversion.    With  a  depth 
of  feeling  which  brought  tears  to  every  eye,  he  described  the  last 
interview  with  his  mother.     As  he  parted  from  her,  she  threw  her 
arms  about  his  neck,  and  bursting  into  tears,  exclaimed  — 

"  O  my  son,  I  could  give  you  up  cheerfully,  if  you  were  only  a 
child  of  God." 

This  outburst  of  a  devoted  Christian  mother's   love  melted  his 


266  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

heart,  and  he  there  promised  her  that  his  future  life  should  be  given 
to  God.  He  had  striven,  he  said,  to  keep  this  pledge ;  had  been 
greatly  helped  by  the  Commission,  and  had  found  the  Lord's  service 
most  pleasant  and  easy  : 

"  I  expect  to-morrow  morning  to  return  to  the  field,  and  think  it 
doubtful  whether  I  shall  ever  see  my  loved  ones  again.  But  I  am 
resolved  to  stand  firm  in  God,  and  to  meet  them  in  heaven." 

The  meeting  closed.  I  bade  him  farewell,  to  see  his  face  again  no 
more.  In  a  fight  near  Petersburg  on  June  18th,  while  bending  over 
to  staunch  the  flowing  blood  of  a  companion,  he  received  his  mortal 
wound,  and  died  with  a  shout  of  praise. 

A  young  lady  came  in  search  of  her  brother,  wounded  at  Cold 
Harbor.  She  had  looked  for  him  in  vain  through  all  the  Washing 
ton  hospitals.  With  the  greatest  difficulty,  procuring  a  pass  from 
the  War  Department  to  White  House  Landing,  she 

A  Sister  finds  here  iearned  that  he  was  dead  and  buried.  One 
her  Brother  in  . 

£^n-S£  wish  only  remained, — to  find  the  grave,  recover  the 

body,  and  bear  it  with  her  to  her  distant  home.  But 
even  in  this  she  was  doomed  to  disappointment.  The  grave  could 
not  be  identified.  Suddenly,  amid  her  grief  and  despair,  the  Holy 
Spirit  revealed  to  her  the  fact  that,  through  all  this  pathway  of  trial 
she  had  been  led  that  she  might  find  the  Lord.  Her  brother  had 
been  a  Christian  ;  she  herself  was  not ;  she  had  failed  to  find  him  ; 
she  could  only  find  him  in  Christ  Jesus,  in  the  Resurrection,  in  Eter 
nal  Life.  Giving  herself  away  to  the  Lord,  she  determined  to  wait 
patiently  until  He  called  her  home. 

Mr.  John  Patterson  writes  of  an  experience  about 
this  time  on  board  a  government  steamer,  bound  for 
White  House  from  Washington  : 

Gen.  Baker  with  his  corps  of  detectives  was  on  board.     They  had 
with  them  several  fine  horses,  well  supplied  with  what  I  wanted  badly 
for  the  Commission  horses  on  board, — fodder.     But  this  was  unpur 
chaseable  ;   so  I  resorted  to  a  little  ruse,  which  I 

^  Shorter  Gate-  h0pe  the  circumstances  will  justify.  I  became  atten- 
chism"  vs.  Swear- 

tive  to  the  horses  of  the  detective  officers,  watering 

them    occasionally    during    the    warm    day.      My 


WHITE    HOUSE    LANDING.  267 

hungry  animals  were  soon  munching  government  fodder,  and  I  was 
myself  on  very  excellent  terms  with  the  quick-witted  members  of 
the  force. 

After  dinner,  while  standing  on  the  deck,  my  attention,  I  regret  to 
say,  was  called  to  a  young  preacher  aboard,  who  was  en  route  to  Cold 
Harbor,  to  recover  the  dead  body  of  his  brother.  The  fare  of  the 
boat  was  not  according  to  his  taste,  and  he  rated  boat  and  govern 
ment  in  no  very  polite  terms.  This  excited  the  ire  of  the  detectives, 
and  especially  of  an  officer  with  whom  I  had  just  formed  a 
pleasant  acquaintance,  who  swore,  were  it  not  for  the  respect  he  had 
for  the  man's  profession,  he  would  put  him  under  arrest  at  once.  He 
gave  vent  to  his  wrath  in  language  shockingly  profane ;  wrongly,  I 
confess,  I  feared  to  rebuke  him,  as  well  on  account  of  his  kindness  to 
me,  as  of  his  laudable  zeal  for  the  good  name  of  the  government. 
Without  venturing  upon  him  directly,  I  tried  a  chance  shot. 
Leaning  upon  a  box  of  goods,  my  chin  resting  on  my  hands,  as  he 
concluded  a  volley  of  terribly  wild  expletives  at  the  offending  divine, 
and  without  looking  at  him,  as  if  in  meditation,  I  said — 

"  However  the  breakers  of  this  commandment  may  escape  punish 
ment  from  man,  yet  the  Lord  our  God  will  not  suffer  them  to  escape 
His  righteous  judgment."  l 

A  slap  on  the  back  from  my  profane  friend  brought  to  a  sudden 
end  my  pious  soliloquy. 

"  My  man,"  said  he,  "  I  know  that  book  as  well  as  you  do,  from 
beginning  to  end.  I  have  the  most  profound  respect  for  truly  relig 
ious  men,  but  as  profound  a  contempt  for  canting  hypocrites.  I  was 
baptized  by  Dr.  McLeod,  of  New  York,  in  my  father's  arms.  Father 
and  pastor,  I  believe,  are  now  in  heaven." 

"  What  would  you  give,"  said  I,  "  for  a  picture  of  your  father 
with  you  in  his  arms,  your  mother  standing  by,  and  the  old  Doctor 
dripping  the  water  upon  your  face,  and  saying,  '  Grant,  Heavenly 
Father,  that  this  child's  name  may  be  written  in  the  Lamb's  Book 
of  Life?'" 

The  blow  struck  home;  the  wary  look  of  the  detective  faded  from 
his  face ;  the  thick  mail  in  which  a  life  of  cunning  and  danger  had 


The  answer  to  Question  56  of  Westminster  Assembly's  "  Shorter  Catechism." 


268  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

encased  him  was  penetrated  by  that  simple  thought  of  childhood  and 
home,  and  welling  tears  moistened  the  bronzed  cheeks. 

The  scene  made  a  deep  impression  on  those  present.  We  had  no 
more  swearing  that  afternoon;  as  our  boat  glided  softly  over  the 
winding  waters  of  the  York  and  Pamunkey  after  its  cargo  of 
wounded  braves. 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE   WESTERN  ARMIES. 

FROM  THE  BEGINNING  OF  1864  TO  THE  FALL  OF  ATLANTA. 
Jan.  1864— Sept.  1864. 

THE  first  four  months  of  the  year  were  spent  in  com 
parative  quiet  by  both  armies.  In  March  Gen.  Grant 
was  called  to  Washington,  and  Gen.  Sherman  succeeded 
him  in  the  command  of  the  Military  Division  of  the 
Mississippi,  embracing  the  four  great  departments  of  the 
Ohio,  the  Cumberland,  the  Tennessee,  and  the  Arkansas. 
In  anticipation  of  simultaneous  campaigns  on  the 
Eapidan  and  the  Tennessee,  the  armies  were  prepared  for 
the  grand  Spring  movements. 

In  January,  Mr.  Wm.  Lawrence1  and  Rev.  J.  F.  Loyd,2 
took  charge  of  the  work  at  Chattanooga,  around  which 
place  the  bulk  of  the  army  was  in  winter  quarters. 
Kightly  meetings  were  re-opened  in  the  Baptist  Church, 
which  had  for  some  time  been  a  hospital : 

The  evening  meeting  was  very  reluctantly  omitted  one  night,  on 
request  from  headquarters  of  the  Post  Commander,  to  allow  the 
use  of  the  chapel  for  public  readings  by  Murdoch.  The  next  night 


1  Of  Union  Theological  Seminary ;  now  a  Congregational  Minister,  and  Sec 
retary  of  the  Brooklyn  Children's  Aid  Society. 
'-'  A  Methodist  Clergyman  of  Xenia,  Ohio. 

269 


270  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

a  battery-man  stood  up  in  the  congregation  and  gave 
"Not  the  Pray-       h}g  expericnce  ag  foll()WS  . 

er  Meeting,  but  . 

Jesus  „  "  This  is  the  third  night  I  have  been  at  these  meet 

ings.  The  first  time  I  went  away  saying,  '  Religion 
is  a  good  thing;  I  must  have  it;  I'll  come  again.'  The  next  night  I 
went  away,  saying  to  myself,  '  You  are  wicked  enough  without  being 
a  miserable  coward ;  why  didn't  you  get  up  and  say  you  wanted  to 
be  a  Christian?'  That  was  night  before  last.  I  didn't  sleep  much. 
In  the  morning  I  was  in  a  hurry  for  night  to  come.  I  wanted  to 
become  a  Christian,  and  thought  this  meeting  wras  the  only  place  to 
do  it.  All  day  long  I  counted  the  hours  when  I  should  come.  To 
make  sure  of  it,  I  got  my  pass  from  the  Adjutant  before  dinner,  and 
came  early  last  night  to  the  chapel.  A  guard  halted  me  at  the  door. 
He  said  his  instructions  were  to  admit  only  officers  and  such  men 
as  had  tickets.  I  told  him  I  had  no  ticket,  but  I  must  go  into  the 
meeting ;  I  needed  it  more  than  any  officer.  He  pushed  me  back 
with  his  bayonet,  and  I  gave  up,  and  called  the  Christians  hard 
names  for  shutting  me  out  because  I  was  a  private.  Then  my  sins 
came  crushing  down  on  me  again,  and  I  went  back  and  begged  the 
guard  to  pass  me  in ;  but  he  cursed  me,  and  ordered  me  away.  I 
started  for  camp.  When  I  was  passing  the  railroad  track  I  said  to 
myself,  '  It  is  Jesus  you  want,  not  the  meeting;'  and  I  knelt  down 
in  a  cut  of  the  road  and  told  Jesus  just  what  I  was  going  to  say  to 
my  comrades  if  I  had  got  into  the  meeting.  I  had  hardly  begun  to 
tell  Him  before  I  felt  relieved.  When  I  got  up  from  my  knees  I 
couldn't  help  singing.  I  went  to  camp  singing,  and  kept  singing 
after  I  turned  in,  till  the  Colonel's  Orderly  hushed  me  up.  These 
are  good  meetings,  but  if  I  could  find  such  a  meeting  as  that  one  on 
the  railroad  track,  I  wouldn't  mind  if  the  guard  ordered  me  off 
every  night." l 

From  the  reminiscences  of  Rev.  Jno.  L.  Landis,2  a 
Delegate  at  Chattanooga  in  the  early  part  of  the  year, 
the  two  following  incidents  are  taken : 


1  Annals,  U.  /S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  477,  478. 

2  Licentiate  of  (N.  S.)  Presbytery  of  Harrisburg,  Penna. 


CHATTANOOGA.  271 

I  was  very  much  interested  in  two  Confederate  soldiers  who  lay 
side  by  side  in  the  same  ward  of  one  of  the  hospitals, — private  J.  P. 
Thompson,  whose  leg  had  been  amputated,  and  Lieut.  Baker,  who 
hud  a  lung  wound.  Thompson  sent  for  me  one  day ; 
I  found  the  artery  sloughed  off  and  his  stump  bleed 
ing.  It  was  soon  evident  that  he  must  die,  and  he  became  very  much 
excited.  I  endeavored  to  calm  him,  and  at  last  succeeded.  He  ex 
pressed  a  most  earnest  wish  to  be  with  Christ,  preferring  it  to  any 
earthly  consolations  or  prospects  of  life  and  health.  He  told  me 
about  his  little  sister  in  heaven ;  and  prayed  that  he  might  be  per 
mitted  to  meet  her  there.  As  I  was  about  leaving  him,  his  comrade, 
Lieut.  Baker,  who  had  been  intently  observing  the  scene,  spoke  to 
me.  He  talked  as  a  little  child  in  Christ's  Kingdom  might  about  his 
wish  to  go  and  be  with  Jesus.  I  sang  with  him— 

"  I'm  a  pilgrim,  and  I'm  a  stranger  ; " 

and  after  that — 

"  Let  us  walk  in  the  light  of  God." 

He  was  delighted,  so  I  sang  again — 

"There  is  rest  for  the  weary." 

Said  he,  "  That  is  the  rest ;  I  want  all  others  to  enjoy  it  with  me. 
I  don't  want  to  enjoy  it  by  myself;  would  you?" 

The  next  time  I  came  into  the  ward  the  two  beds  had  been  drawn 
close  together.  The  two,  who  had  fought  together  in  life  and  been 
wounded  together,  were  to  enter  the  dark  valley  thus  also.  In  sweet 
intercommunion  and  converse  they  passed  the  short  time  until  one 
took  his  departure,  only  a  few  hours  in  advance  of  his  companion. 

Willie  Snyder,  of  Cincinnati,  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  and 
lovely  characters  I  ever  met.  Enlisting  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  had 
seen  two  years'  service.  At  Mission  Ridge  he  was  so  severely 
wounded  as  to  require  the  amputation  of  one  leg.  He  used  to  love 
to  have  me  sit  down  on  his  cot  and  talk  to  him  of 

Jesus.     The  last  time  I  saw  him,  he  got  very  close        The  Longed-for 

Country. 
to  me,  and  putting  one  arm  around  me,  took  my  left 

hand  in  his.     Laying  his  warm  face  upon  it  and  kissing  it,  he  looked 
up  into  mine  and  said,  sweetly — 


272  CHRISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

"  I  wish  I  was  in  heaven." 

"Why,  Willie?" 

"  Because  I  feel  it  in  my  heart." 

He  had  not  long  to  wait  for  the  fulfillment  of  his  desire. 

Ill  January  a  great  many  regiments  re-enlisted  for 
three  years  or  the  war,  and  went  home  on  veteran  fur 
lough.  This  crowded  the  quarters  in  Nashville  for 
weeks  with  soldiers  coming  and  departing.  While  in 
the  city,  the  men  were  kept  under  guard,  but  the  Com 
mission  had  free  access  to  them  at  all  times.  Rev.  E.  P. 
Smith  writes : 

These  homeward-bound  men  were  found  more  thoughtful  than  had 

been  anticipated.     In  many  instances  the  thought  of  home  so  near  at 

hand  had  recalled  the  fair  promises  of  two  years  before,  and  broken 

vows  came  to  stare  them  in  the  face.     One  young 

Mother's  First      soldier?  for  whom  a  furiough  had  been  procured  at 

Question    An- 

swerecl  his  request,  declined  to  use  it,  asking  that  it  might 

be  postponed  a  month.  At  the  end  of  two  weeks  he 
came  to  say  that  he  was  ready  for  his  furlough,  and,  when  pressed  to 
give  a  reason  for  his  strange  delay,  replied — 

"  I  promised  my  mother  that  I  would  be  a  Christian  in  the  army. 
I  have  neglected  it  up  to  this  time,  and  I  could  not  go  home  until  I 
could  answer  my  mother's  first  question."  * 

This  furlough  of  veterans  has  involved  us  in  a  new  expenditure. 
They  return  from  their  homes  with  fewer  Testaments  than  from  the 
battle-field.  The  accounts  run  all  pretty  much  alike : 

"Mother" — or  sister,  or  my  little  boy,  as  the  case 

The  Brother's      m\$\i  be—"  wanted  it,  because,  you  see,  I  had  car 
ried  it  so  long,  and  it  had  been  in  the  fight ;  so  I  left 
it  home,  for  I  knew  I  could  get  another." 

At  first  I  thought  they  had  presumed  too  far  upon  our  free-giving ; 
but  I  am  satisfied  now  that  they  have  done  right.  That  copy  of  God's 
Truth  will  be  treasured  and  read  in  the  soldier's  absence.  The  very 


Annals,  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  p.  482. 


NASHVILLE.  273 

form  of  the  well-thumbed,  worn  book  will  stir  up  and  make  mellow 
the  depths  of  the  home  hearts.  Henceforth  the  "Word  is  doubly 
sacred. 

I  met  on  the  boat  from  Chattanooga,  a  short  time  since,  an  Irish 
woman,  who  had  come  from  Pennsylvania  to  see  her  brother  in  hos 
pital.  He  had  been  carried  to  the  grave  the  day  before  she  reached 
Chattanooga.  She  had  gathered  up  his  few  effects,  and  was  taking 
them  home.  Unrolling  his  knapsack  upon  the  deck,  she  took  from 
it  a  book, — the  only  one  it  contained,  and  read.  The  tears  streamed 
down  her  cheeks  as  she  slowly  spelled  out  the  words,  and  with  her 
fingers  traced  the  lines  on  the  first  page.  I  looked  over  her  shoulder. 
Il  was  an  old  school-book  on  Physical  Geography,  and  she  was  read 
ing  the  introduction. 

"  Is  that  an  interesting  book  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Indade,  sir,  it's  me  brother's  book — an'  he  used  to  rade  it.  He's 
did  now; — d'ye  see  his  name  there — the  darlint?  He  wuz  a  great 
scholard,  me  brother,  an'  I  know  he  used  to  rade  it.  Niver  a  word 
did  I  git  from  him  in  hospittle,  an'  niver  a  word  can  they  spake  to 
me  u v  him — only  jist  he  died  on  sich  a  bed  an'  wuz  buried  intoirely 
when  I  came.  He  wuz  a  great  scholard,  me  brother  wuz,  an'  I  wuz 
sthrivin'  to  git  a  bit  uv  comfort  fur  me  poor  sowl  out  of  his  book." 

Would  that  it  had  been  the  book  of  the  God  of  all  comfort ! 

The  following  incident  of  work  in  Nashville  in  March 
is  from  the  same  pen : 

A  young  man  lingered  one  day  after  our  daily  prayer  meeting. 
Mr.  Atkinson  took  him  aside ;  I  stood  near,  but  did  not  interrupt. 
The  young  man  began — 

"I'm  afraid  I  offended  you  this  morning." 

,  ,     -I      ,»       •  -i    -M-   *""  *    -i  •  What  can  I  Do  f 

"  Why,  no  ;  that   can  t  be,    said  Mr.  Atkinson  ; 

"  I  never  saw  you  before  that  I  know." 

"Never  saw  me  ?  You  were  looking  straight  at  me  all  the  time  you 
were  talking  in  the  barracks  this  morning ;  and  every  time  you  cut 
me  to  pieces  ;  I  couldn't  stand  it,  so  I  got  up  and  went  out." 

"  Was  that  you  ?   I  thought  it  was  some  careless,  ungodly  fellow." 
"  Ungodly  enough,  but  not  careless.     I  couldn't  have  lived  there 
18 


274  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

any  longer.     You  made  me  think  of  what  I  had  done.     Oh !  I  am 
an  awful  sinner.     Can  I  be  saved  ?" 

"  You   can   be   saved.     The    blood   of   Jesus   cleanseth   from   all 


"  I  think  I  could,  if  I  hadn't  done  that." 

"Done  what?" 

"  I  have  killed  my  mother." 

"  Killed  your  mother !  when?  how?"* 

"  Last  night  I  had  a  letter  from  her.  She  said  she  was  almost 
gone,  and  the  writing  was  all  trembling  like, — she  is  very  low  with 
consumption.  She  talked  to  me,  as  she  always  did,  about  being  a 
Christian,  and  left  me  her  dying  prayer  that  I  would  leave  my 
wicked  life  and  come  with  her  to  heaven.  When  I  got  that  letter  I 
made  fun  of  it  with  my  comrades,  and  sat  down  and  wrote  her  she 
needn't  worry  about  my  soul ;  that  I  would  take  care  of  that,  and  that 
I  meant  to  live  just  as  I  had,  and  get  all  there  was  in  this  world  now, 
and  look  after  the  next  when  I  got  there.  O  sir,  you  don't  know 
how  that  wrill  make  my  poor  old  mother  feel !  It  will  kill  her  out 
right,  I  know  it  will,"  and  the  strong  young  cavalryman  bent  his 
face  to  the  railing  and  made  the  pew  shake  in  his  agony : 

"  What  can  I  do  !  what  can  I  do !  Is  there  mercy  for  me 

"  Yes,  for  you.     Jesus  saves  to  the  uttermost." 

"  What  can  I  do  ?" 

"  Kneel  down  here  with  me  and  give  yourself  to  God.  Tell  Him 
you  are  a  sinner,  and  cry  for  mercy.  Then  write  to  your  mother 
and  ask  her  forgiveness." 

"  It  is  too  late  for  that ;  mother  will  be  dead  before  another  letter 
can  reach  her ; — when  she  reads  that  wicked  letter  of  mine,  she  will 
lay  it  down  and  die.  Oh  !  what  can  I  do?" 

"  Kneel  down  and  cry  for  mercy.  God  will  hear  you  and  forgive  ; 
then  when  your  mother,  in  earth  or  heaven,  hears  that  God  for 
Christ's  sake  has  forgiven  you,  she  will  remember  your  cruelty  no 
more." 

Prayer  was  offered  in  the  vestry  that  day,  but  relief  was  not  then 
obtained  ;  for  several  days  the  soldier  seemed  not  far  from  suicide. 
He  wrote  the  next  mail  to  his  dying  mother;  confessed  his  guilt  to 
his  scoffing  comrades,  and  prayed.  Prayer  was  made  for  him  in  our 
meetings,  but  his  remorse  was  fearful  and  all-absorbing.  It  seemed 


NASHVILLE.  275 

as  though  God's  condemnation  of  him  that  curseth  father  or  mother 
had  already  descended  upon  him. 

At  last  he  seemed  to  find  the  Saviour  and  His  forgiveness,  and 
went  home  with  his  regiment ;  but  whether  to  his  mother's  bedside 
or  her  new  grave,  I  never  learned. 

A  sketch  by  Mr.  J.  E.  Wright,1  of  Nashville  hospital 
service  in  April  illustrates  the  Delegate's  relief  work : 

A  brother  Delegate  asked  me  to  go  for  him  to  Hospital  No.  3,  and 
see  a  man  very  low  with  erysipelas.     I  was  to  carry  him  an  orange. 
I  saw  at  once  that  the  disease  had  a  firm  grasp  of  the  soldier.     His 
face  was  terribly  swollen ;  one  eye  was  closed  en 
tirely,  the   other   partially ;    every  feature  was  dis-       ,. 
torted,  as  well  as  discolored   by  an  application   of 
bromine  or  iodine ;  and  his  limbs  were  terribly  emaciated.     I  sat 
down  by  the  cot  and  talked  with  him,  read  some  precious  Scripture 
promises,  and  at  his  request  wrote  to  his  father.     In  the  afternoon  I 
saw  the  poor  fellow  again.     He  was  worse ;  mortification  had  set  in  ; 
it  was  difficult  for  him  to  hear  or  speak,  and  all  his  faculties  were 
yielding  to  the  disease.     He  asked  me  if  I  had  written  a  letter  for 
him  in  the  morning  and  what  I  had  written,  saying  with  touching 
emphasis,  as  he  marked  with  his  right  hand  a  finger's  length  upon 
his  left— 

"  I  can't  remember  so  long." 

I  told  him  I  had  written,  and  asked  if  I  should  send  a  letter  to 
his  wife.  He  hesitated,  and  then  answered,  feebly — 

"  Not  now,  I  can't  hear — I  can't  think, — to-morrow  perhaps." 

As  I  bade  him  good-bye,  the  poor  fellow  seemed  to  gather  up  his 
little  remaining  strength.  Looking  after  me,  he  said  clearly  and 
earnestly,  "  God  bless  you  !" 

The  emphasis  with  which  the  simple  words  were  spoken  shall  re 
main  with  me  as  long  as  I  live.  Poor  boy !  his  "  to-morrow  "  never 
came ;  and  the  letter  which  was  to  have  been  written  to  his  wife,  told 
in  a  stranger's  words  the  sad  story  of  a  husband's  death. 


Of  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  Mass. 


276  CHKISTIAX    COMMISSION    IXCIDEXTS. 

Mr.  Arthur  Lawrence1  tells  a  suggestive  story,  related 
to  him  by  a  soldier  in  Bragg's  Hospital,  Chattanooga, 
not  long  before  the  Spring  movements  : 

A  soldier  told  me  what  had  led  him  to  seek  and  find  the  Saviour. 

Some  time  before,  a  Christian  on  the  next  cot  to  his  had  been  dvino- 

j     & 

Just  before  he  passed  away,  he  called  the  nurse  to  bring  him  a  cup 

of  water: 

An  Angel  Un-  ,-.   . 

(lwares    l  Bring  two,  nurse ;  I  want  one  for  my  friend  here  ; 

he  has  come  a  long  distance,  and  must  be  tired." 

"  I  don't  see  anybody  here,"  said  the  nurse,  somewhat  puzzled. 

"Don't  you  see  him?"  said  the  soldier,  pointing  into  what,  for 
every  one  else  in  the  room,  was  only  tenanted  by  the  vacant  air. 
They  assured  him  that  there  was  no  one  there,  but  the  soldier  could 
not  be  convinced  : 

"  There  is  some  one  standing  by  the  bed-side,"  he  said. 

And  so  doubtless  there  was  for  him. 

"  I  didn't  see  what  he  saw,"  said  the  soldier  who  told  me  the  story; 
but  the  long,  last  look  of  the  dying  man,  turned  towards  the  attend 
ant  "Friend,"  awed  him  deeply;  "For,"  said  he,  "it  must  have  been 
an  angel." 

"  Thither  we  hasten  through  these  regions  dim, 
But  lo  !  the  wide  wings  of  the  Seraphim 

Shine  in  the  sunset!     On  that  joyous  shore 
Our  lightened  hearts  shall  know 
The  life  of  long-ago  : 
The  sorrow-burdened  past  shall  fade 
For  evermore." 

Gen.  Sherman's  mustering  of  his  hosts  for  advance 
into  Georgia  gave  the  work  a  new  impulse  in  April. 
At  Binggold  and  Cleveland  very  remarkable  revivals 
began  among  the  veteran  troops.  The  General  Field 
Agent  writes  of  that  at  Binggold : 2 

The  crowded  church  every  night,  the  full  morning  meetings  for 


1  Of  Boston.  2  Annals}  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  490-491. 


KIXGGOLD.  277 

inquirers  of  the  way  of  life,  the  prayer  meetings  established  in  the 
soldiers'  huts  and  even  out  on  the  picket-post,  testify  to  such 

grace  and  power  of  God  as  is  rarely  exhibited.     A 

?r  i  IT  j?  xi  n  •  Here  and  Now. 

Kentucky  soldier,  one  or  the  most  ungodly  men  in 

his  regiment,  had  spent  the  night  in  prayer  and  found  no  relief.  In 
the  morning  he  met  his  Chaplain  on  his  horse,  and  asked  him  to  pray 
for  him.  The  Chaplain  promised,  but  said  the  man — 

"  I  mean  now." 

"  What,  here  in  the  road  ?" 

"  Yes,  here,  Chaplain,  now." 

They  knelt  and  prayed,  and  others  who  were  passing  came  and 
knelt,  till  there  were  more  than  two  or  three  agreeing  in  the  petition 
that  the  sinful  one  should  be  forgiven ;  and  the  answer  came.  The 
soldier  went  down  to  his  tent-house,  and  carried  the  word  of  life  to 
his  comrades.  They  could  not  resist  the  claims  of  religion,  when 
pressed  upon  them  so  earnestly  and  persistently  by  their  fellow- 
soldier.  He  told  of  his  trials  with  his  profane  tent-mates,  and  of 
the  agreement  he  had  made,  that,  if  they  persisted  in  calling  in  their 
comrades  for  cards,  he  should  have  the  tent  every  other  night  for  a 
prayer  meeting.  The  result  was,  the  prayer  meeting  supplanted  the 
cards  altogether,  and  all  in  the  tent  and  many  men  in  the  company 
came  with  the  new  disciple  to  his  Master. 

Mr.  William  Reynolds  continues  the  account : 

Words  are  inadequate  to  describe  the  glorious  work  of  grace.  We 
found  about  ten  thousand  troops  encamped  here  and  but  three  Chap 
lains.  In  our  labors  with  these  Chaplains,  we  experienced  in  full 

the  sweetness  of  the  truth,  "  Behold,  howT  good  and 

,..,,,  The  Depth  of 

how  pleasant  it  is  for  brethren  to   dwell  together  m      *h  R    '  al 

unity."  We  made  arrangements  for  holding  two 
daily  meetings,  at  one  and  seven  o'clock,  p.  M.  At  the  night  meeting 
the  church  was  crowded  to  overflowing, — not  a  foot  of  standing- 
room  unoccupied.  The  doors  and  windows  were  filled,  and  the 
crowds  extended  out  into  the  street,  straining  their  ears  to  catch  the 
words  of  Jesus.  Sometimes  hundreds  of  persons  would  go  away 
unable  to  get  within  hearing  distance.  Day  after  day  the  interest 


278  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

deepened,  and  large  numbers  came  forward  nightly  for  prayer. 
Scores  of  men  long  hardened  in  sin  cried  out,  "  What  shall  we  do?" 

A  number  of  the  converts  had  never  been  baptized,  and  as  they 
expressed  a  desire  to  remember  this  command  of  Christ,  we  invited 
all  candidates  for  baptism  to  meet  at  the  church  on  Sabbath  after 
noon,  April  10th.  Forty-four  presented  themselves. 

The  Baptism       T        .  . 

,  .,  „  In  the  number  several  denominations  were  repre- 

and  the  Commu- 

niollt  sented,  and  were  of  course  allowed  to  select  the  mode 

of  baptism  they  preferred.  Twenty-four  chose  im 
mersion,  eighteen  sprinkling,  and  two  pouring.  We  marched  in 
solemn  procession  to  the  tune  and  hymn — 

"There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood," 

down  to  the  Chickarnauga  Creek.  The  soldiers  stood  on  the  banks, 
joining  hands  and  continuing  the  hymn,  while  their  comrades  went 
down  into  the  water, — some  for  immersion,  some  for  sprinkling,  and 
others  for  pouring,  but  all  for  baptism  in  the  name  of  the  Father, 
and  of  the  Son,  a-nd  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  After  administering  the 
ordinance  wre  returned  to  the  church,  singing — 

"  Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken," 

and  then  sat  down,  about  four  hundred  in  number,  at  the  table  of 
our  common  Lord.  Commissary  bread,  currant  wine,  tin  plates  and 
tin  cups, — these  were  the  circumstances  of  the  Lord's  supper  in  the 
army  ;  but  they  did  not  keep  the  Master  from  the  feast  of  love,  nor 
hinder  the  baptism  of  the  Spirit  upon  these  men,  whom  God  was 
making  ready  for  four  months  of  march  and  battle.  It  was  a  blessed 
communion, — to  many  of  the  soldiers  the  first  they  had  enjoyed  for 
two  years,  and  to  many  men  the  last,  until  that  day  when  they  shall 
"  drink  it  new  in  the  Father's  Kingdom."  The  following  Sabbath 
forty*eight  were  baptized, — twenty-seven  by  immersion,  and  twenty- 
one  by  sprinkling;  and  on  the  Sabbath  succeeding  this,  the  ordinance 
was  administered  to  fifty-seven  more,  and  four  hundred  new  converts 
sat  down  at  the  communion  table. 

As  I  was  leaving  Ilinggold,  some  of  the  soldiers  came  to  me  and 
said  they  had  had  a  little  discussion  about  my  church  connection.    I 


CLEVELAND.  279 

asked  the  leader  of  the  company  what  church  he  thought  I  be 
longed  to. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  think  you  are  a  Methodist." 

"  Why,  so  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Because  you  ask  people  to  come  to  the  '  anxious  bench.'  " 

I  asked  another  what  he  thought: 

"I  think  you  are  a  Baptist,  because  you  are  so  intimate  with  Chap 
lain  Nash.  I've  noticed  you  around  with  him  a  good  deal." 

The  third  I  asked,  answered — 

"  I  think  you  are  a  Presbyterian,  because  you  stand  up  when  you 
pray." 

I  happened  to  be  a  Presbyterian ;  but  it  was  a  curious  and  striking 
instance  of  how  men  put  off  their  signs  of  division  in  the  presence 
of  the  great  work  of  the  Lord. 

Rev.  Mr.  Smith  writes  of  a  like  pouring  forth  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  at  Cleveland,  Tenn. : 

The  Fourth  Army  Corps  lay  here,  waiting  for  marching  orders. 
A  marvellous  revival  began  just  before  these  orders  came.     At  one 
Sabbath  service  Chaplain  Raymond,  alluding  to  the  terrible  scenes 
just  before  the  army,  and  the  need  of  a  better  Chris 
tian  life,  said- 

"  I  want  to  be  a  better  Christian ;  all  in  this  congregation,  who  will 
join  me  in  this  solemn  re-dedication,  rise." 

The  first  man  on  his  feet  was  Maj.  Gen.  Howard,  commander  of 
the  Corps ;  his  staff  stood  up  around  him,  and  were  soon  followed  by 
all  in  the  house  who  loved  the  Saviour. 

From  that  hour,  the  solemnity  of  our  meetings  deepened,  and  the 
work  grew  until  hundreds  were  converted.    At  the  service  that  night 
an  invitation  was  given  to  all  who  were  ready  to  become  Christians 
there  and  then,  to  raise  the  hand.     The  hand  of  a 
fine-faced  Wisconsin  soldier  near  the  pulpit  went  up       T      ,fve> 
so  promptly, — before  the  invitation  was  fairly  given 
— and  so  vigorously,  as  to  attract  attention.     This  was  his  last  meet 
ing  at  Cleveland.     He  was  called  off  on  duty,  and  could  not  again 
attend  before  the  grand  move  began. 

In  the  Autumn,  four  months  after  the  Cleveland  meetings,  when 


280  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

'•  Atlanta  was  ours,  and  fairly  won,"  a  ward-master  came  hastily  into 
our  quarters  at  Nashville,  asking  for  a  minister  to  come  at  once  to 
Hospital  No.  12.  I  followed  him  Lack.  He  showed  me  a  cot,  on 
which  one  of  his  men  lay  dying.  It  was  the  Cleveland,  Wisconsin 
boy.  lie  wanted  some  Christian  friend  to  come  and  take  his  last 
words  of  holy  trust,  for  his  parents  in  Milwaukee : 

"  It'll  be  such  a  comfort  to  them,  you  know,  sir." 

It  was  hard  to  look  at  that  face  and  head,  and  feel  that  the  boy 
must  die;  eighteen  years  of  age,  an  only  child,  as  fine  an  eye  and 
form  as  you  would  find  in  a  brigade  of  men.  I  turned  involuntarily 
to  the  nurse,  to  ask  if  there  was  no  hope : 

"  None  at  all,  sir ;  the  Doctors  have  all  given  him  up." 

Then,  I  turn  again  to  the  dying  man  and  lose  all  my  regrets.  His 
large  hazel  eye  swims  in  tears,  as  he  smiles  and  replies  to  my 
question — 

"  Yes,  I  am  ready  ;  my  papers  are  made  out,  and  I  shall  be  dis 
charged  to-night." 

Then  he  told  me  of  his  conversion ;  how  he  went  out  of  that  Cleve 
land  meeting  dedicated  to  God,  and  how  God  had  kept  and  blest 
him,  all  through  the  marches  and  fights  to  Atlanta,  till  at  last,  in  the 
siege  of  that  city,  he  was  wounded  and  his  leg  amputated.  Since 
then  he  had  been  thinking  what  he  could  do  as  a  one-legged  Chris 
tian,  till,  within  a  few  days,  he  had  learned  that  he  could  never  get 
well,  and  had  come  to  be  perfectly  willing  to  die  in  that  hospital 
ward.  Reference  to  his  home  in  Wisconsin,  to  his  father's  plans  for 
him,  and  to  how  his  mother  had  been  counting  the  days  till  his  term 
should  expire,  made  the  tears  come  afresh ;  but  he  dashed  them  away 
and  said — 

"  It's  all  right, — all  right ;  ever  since  that  meeting,  it's  all  right." 

When  I  was  about  to  pray,  he  said — 

"  Don't  forget  to  thank  God  for  Cleveland." 

He  did  not  die  that  night;  but  when  two  days  after  I  found  his  cot 
empty,  I  inquired  of  the  nurse  how  he  died : 

"  Oh,  very  happy,  sir ;  he  prayed  and  sang,  and  said  the  Bible  all 
to  himself.  His  last  words  we  didn't  understand ;  'maybe  he  was 
getting  flighty  in  his  mind." 

"  What  were  they  ?" 

"  Cleveland — Jesus  ;  Cleveland — Jesus." 


CLEVELAND.  281 

Mr.  Reynolds  tells  of  a  conversation  with  a  Brigade 
Burgeon  during  the  same  revival : 

"  Surgeons,  anyhow,  ought  to  be  Christians,"  said  he  to  me ;   "I 
never  felt  the  necessity  of  being  one  so  much  as  at  the  battle  of 
Chickamauga.     A  number  of  men  were  brought  into  a  tent  where 
we  were  amputating  limbs  and  probing  wounds.    Ex- 
amining  the  hurts  of  one  poor  fellow,  I  was  obliged        prayer. 
to  tell  him  he  could  live  but  a  few  minutes.     He 
turned  and  looked  at  me : 

"  '  Surgeon,  are  you  a  Christian  ?' 

"  I  had  to  confess  I  was  not. 

"  '  Is  there  no  Christian  here  ?' — no  one  responded. 

"  '  I  want  some  Christian  to  pray  with  me  before  I  die.' 

"  '  Are  you  a  Christian  ?'  I  inquired. 

"  '  Oh,  yes,  sir,  I  am  a  Christian  ;  but  I  would  so  like  to  have  some 
one  pray  with  me,  before  I  go  away  to  be  with  Jesus.  O  Surgeon, 
won't  you  pray  ?' 

"  The  pleading  of  the  dying  man  was  more  than  I  could  resist.  I 
knelt  down  beside  him  and  offered  up  a  heartfelt  prayer  to  God.  I 
don't  know  much  about  such  things,"  added  the  Surgeon,  musingly, 
"but  that  prayer  has  had  a  most  marked  influence  on  my  life  ever 
since.  The  soldier  died  within  a  few  minutes  after  its  close." 

Just  on  the  eve  of  the  advance,  this  incident,  told  by 
the  General  Field  Agent,  occurred  at  Binggold : 

In  the  midst  of  one  of  our  soldiers'  prayer  meetings,  the  Adjutant 
of  a  Kentucky  regiment  came  in  and  told  the  leader  that  he  was 
ordered  to  pick  eleven  men  and  a  Sergeant  from  the  regiment,  to  go 
on  special  and  perilous  duty  in  Nickajack  Gap. 

"  They  must  be  the  best  men  in  the  regiment,"  said 

J  in     the    Prayer 

the  Adjutant,  looking  over  the  congregation.  Meeting. 

His  eye  finally  rested  upon  the  front  seat.     There 
were  the  men  he  was  looking  for.     All  of  them  Christians,  and  close 
to  the  "  front"  in  the  prayer  meeting, — they  were  the  soldiers  for 
special  and  perilous  service. 


282  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Gen.  Sherman,  on  May  6th,  left  his  Winter  encamp 
ments  about  Chattanooga,  at  the  head  of  an  army  of 
100,000  men.  Dalton,  the  first  position  of  Johnston, 
the  Confederate  commander,  was  turned  by  a  flank 
movement,  and  the  enemy  forced  to  fall  back  rapidly  to 
Resaca,  After  some  severe  fighting  this  place  was  also 
evacuated  on  May  16th.  Johnston's  retreat,  with  a  tem 
porary  halt  at  Cassville,  was  kept  up  until  he  reached  the 
shelter  of  the  Allatoona  Mountain.  Continual  skirm 
ishing  consumed  the  time  until  June  1st,  when  Sherman 
made  another  flank  movement  to  the  left,  compelling 
the  enemy  once  more  to  leave  their  strong  position,  only 
to  take  up  a  new  and  formidable  line  along  Kenesaw, 
Pine  and  Lost  Mountains.  After  incessant  fighting  the 
two  latter  were  abandoned ;  but  a  direct  and  fierce 
assault  upon  Kenesaw  on  June  27th,  failed.  But  the 
inevitable  flank  movement  compelled  its  evacuation  on 
July  2d.  About  a  week  later,  Johnston,  his  army  safely 
within  the  strong  entrenchments  of  Atlanta,  was  super 
seded  by  Gen.  J.  B.  Hood.  This  officer's  first  move 
ments  were  fierce  attacks,  on  July  20th  and  22d,  upon 
the  left  of  our  too  confidently  advancing  forces.  These 
attacks,  though  repulsed,  showed  that  Atlanta  was  not 
to  be  easily  won.  A  week  later,  Hood  struck  out  upon 
our  right,  and  was  again  signally  repelled.  Unable  to 
keep  quiet,  he  sent  nearly  all  his  cavalry  under  Wheeler 
into  Sherman's  rear,  which  only  gave  the  latter  oppor 
tunity  to  push  forward  Kilpatrick  to  destroy  temporarily 
the  enemy's  communications,  and  then,  on  August  25th 
and  the  succeeding  days,  to  raise  the  siege  and  throw  his 
entire  army,  except  the  Twentieth  Corps,  into  the  rear 
of  Atlanta.  Hood,  completely  outgeneraled,  abandoned 


RESACA.  283 

his  stronghold  about  the  1st  of  September.     Here  our 
army  rested  after  their  nobly-earned  victory. 

Rev.  Dr.  J.  P.  Thompson,1  writing  to  the  Boston  Con- 
grt  Rationalist,  tells  the  story  of  work  before  Resaca : 

About  three  A.  M.  of  Sabbath  the  15th,  we  came  upon  the  camp- 
fires  of  our  forces,  gloomily  lighting  the  forests.  An  hour's  nap  upon 
the  ground,  and  I  was  awakened  by  the  sound  of  cannon.  Before 
the  tent  a  soldier,  just  brought  in,  lay  stretched  in 
death.  Around  were  tents  filled  with  wounded  and 
dying  men.  Already  the  hospital  tents  of  the  several  army  corps 
were  arranged  at  intervals  over  a  circuit  of  six  miles.  Mounting  our 
wagons  we  drove  from  corps  to  corps,  depositing  at  each  hospital 
timely  stores,  ministering  with  our  hands  to  the  comfort  of  the 
wounded,  and  speaking  words  of  Christian  consolation.  What  scenes 
of  horror  and  anguish  did  that  day  reveal !  Men  lying  in  scores,  upon 
their  hurried  beds  of  straw,  with  bleeding  or  ghastly  wounds,  await 
ing  the  Surgeon's  care ;  others  brought  in  at  intervals  upon  stretchers 
from  the  field ;  here  a  group  of  six  corpses  ready  for  burial,  there  a 
heap  of  limbs  and  members  marking  the  operating  tent,  where  the 
knife  of  the  Surgeon  was  always  busy. 

Strange  sights  and  scenes  and  labors  for  the  Sabbath  ;  yet  somehow 
the  Master  seemed  nearer  than  ever  before;  the  Conqueror  of  death; 
the  sympathizing  Saviour ;  the  all-present,  the  all-sufficing  Friend. 
And  to  do  some  little  kindness  in  His  name,  to  give  the  cup  of  cold 
water,  the  timely  nutriment,  the  fragrant  orange;  to  adjust  a  band 
age,  to  soothe  a  weary  head,  to  write  a  message  for  the  loved  ones  at 
the  soldier's  home,  to  speak  some  brief  word  of  hope  and  cheer — was 
not  this  doing  His  work  ? 

"  How  kind  you  Northern  people  are !"  said  a  tall,  stalwart  Ten- 
nesseean,  as  I  stooped  to  comfort  him;  "I  used  to  have  a  prejudice 
against  you  ;  but  since  I  have  been  in  the  army,  and  have  seen  what 

you  do  for  the  soldiers,  I  think  you  are  a  wonderful 

"Hard  Wading 

Pe°Ple-  through  Mother's 

He  had  been  shot  through   the  cheek,  and  the      Prayers" 


1  Pastor  of  Broadway  Tabernacle  Congregational  Church,  New  York  City. 


284  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

blood  oozed  from  his  mouth  and  nostrils  at  every  effort  to 
speak. 

"  You  Tennesseeans,"  said  I,  "deserve  all  we  can  do  for  you." 

"  As  for  that,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  people  who  wanted  pro 
tection  must  first  protect  themselves." 

I  spoke  to  him  of  Christ. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  "  I  have  been  a  wicked  man,  a  very  wicked  man  ; 
but  it  has  been  hard  for  me  to  wade  through  my  mother's  prayers." 
And  when  I  showed  him  the  freeness  of  salvation,  he  pressed  my 
hand,  and  thanked  me  again  and  again. 

A  young  Kentuckian  beckoned  me  to  his  side,  and  welcoming  me 
with  a  sweet  smile,  said — 

"  I  professed  Christ  before  I  entered  the  army,  and  I  have  tried  to 

live  near  Him  ;  I  feel  Him  near  me  now." 

A  Good  Cause         «  \  -,  n    n  0,, 

Are  you  much  wounded  ? 
to   be    Wounded  ^     .  J 

inm  'Seriously,  in  the  thigh.     I  hope  not  mortally, 

but  it  is  a  good  cause  to  be  wounded  in." 

A  young  man  whose  arm  had  been  amputated  at  the  shoulder, 
asked  Mr.  Holmes1  to  write  to  his  friends  "  to  keep  up  their  spirits ;" 

he,  brave  fellow,  had  no  want  or  care  for  himself. 
Sdf-forcjetful- 
nesSt  L  went  among  a  company  of  wounded  men,  all 

lying  on  the  floor,  in  pain,  and  told  them  the  news 
of  Grant's  first  successes  in  Virginia.  "  Good,"  said  they,  with  one 
voice  ;  "  that  pays  for  all  we've  suffered." 

Brother  Holmes  and  I  ventured  down  to  the  very  front,  where  the 
strife  was  raging.  We  sat  down  near  the  line  of  battle,  with  a  group 
of  men  who  were  presently  to  go  in  for  their  turn  at  the  fight,  and 
had  some  earnest,  manly,  faithful  talk  about  the  one  tiling  needful: 

"  l*()ys>  y°u  believe  in  Sherman,  down  here,  don't  you  ?" 

"  That's  so  ;  that's  what's  the  matter." 

"  You  believe  in  Grant,  too,  don't  you  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed;  anything  for  Grant." 
Faith    in 
Christ.  "  ™  e^>  that  is  faith  ;  and  we  want  you  to  feel  just 

so  towards  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  put  your 
whole  soul  into  His  hands,  and  go  into  this  battle  loving  and  trust 
ing  Him." 


1  Eev.  Jno.  M.  Holmes,  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Jersey  City,  N.  J. 


RESACA.  285 

"  Well,  now's  a  time  for  the  soldier  to  feel  pretty  solemn,"  said 
one ;  and  so  we  talked  on  to  men  who  in  the  next  hour  might  look 
death  in  the  face. 

Returning,  we  saw  a  newly-opened  grave.  It  was  for  a  Michigan 
boy  of  eighteen  ;  he  had  been  shot  down  at  the  side  of  his  father, 
who  was  a  private  in  the  same  company.  The  father  sat  beside  the 

grave,  carving  his  boy's  name  upon  a  rude  head- 

-.       Tj              ,  .      P     ,  ,               T    ,      ,     ,  .        ,         ,  Buried  in  his 

board.     It  was  his  first-born.     I  took  him   by  the  -n,     7  , 

J  Blanket. 

hand,  and  gave  him  all  my  heart,  then  offered  a 
prayer,   which    Brother   Holmes   followed  with  appropriate  words. 
There  was  no  coffin,  but  a  few  pieces  of  board  were  laid  in  the  bot 
tom  of  the  grave,  between  the  body  and  the  bare  ground. 

"  Wrap  him  in  this  blanket,"  said  the  father ;  "  it  is  one  his  sister 
sent  him.  Ah,  me,  how  will  they  bear  it  at  home!  What  will  his 
poor  mother  do !  She  must  have  a  lock  of  his  hair." 

I  stooped  to  cut  the  lock  with  my  penknife,  when  a  soldier  came 
forward  with  a  pair  of  scissors  from  his  little  "  housewife."  My 
heart  blessed  the  Sabbath-school  child  who  had  made  that  timely 
gift.  And  so,  having  rendered  the  last  offices  of  faith  and  affection, 
we  laid  the  brave  boy  in  his  grave,  while  the  cannon  were  still  roar 
ing  the  doom  of  others,  young  and  brave,  whom  we  had  just  left  on 
the  field. 

An  incident  of  the  fighting  before  Resaca,  told  by 
Mr.  Arthur  Lawrence,  seems  to  us  worthy  to  take  a 
place  high  in  history  : 

Two  of  us  picked  up  a  man  in  our  arms  to  carry  him  off  the  field. 
A  shell  had  struck  him  in  the  mouth,  tearing  an  awful  wound,  which 
was  bleeding  profusely.  I  offered  the  poor  fellow  a  drink  from  my 

tin-cup, — a  bright,  new  one,  which  I  had  brought 

An  American 
from  Chattanooga.     One  would  not  have  guessed,  in 

looking  at  him,  that  he  could  have  at  the  time  any 
thoughts  beyond  his  pain  and  what  would  help  it.  The  first  sensa 
tion  after  such  a  wound  is  well  known  to  be  one  of  intense  thirst ; 
yet  the  soldier  refused  the  proffered  draught.  I  asked  him  why : 

"  My  mouth's  all  bloody,  sir;  and  it  might  make  the  tin-cup  bad 
for  the  others." 


286  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

He  was  "  only  a  private,"  rough  and  dusty  with  the  battle ;  but 
the  answer  was  one  which  the  Chevalier  Bayard,  the  knight  sans 
peur  et  sans  reproche,  or  Sir  Philip  Sydney  at  Zutphen,  had  not 
equalled,  when  they  gave  utterance  to  the  words  which  have  made 
their  names  immortal. 

The  army  halted  one  Sabbath  day  in  Kingston,  after 
Resaca  had  been  gained.  The  General  Field  Agent 
gives  the  following  narrative  of  it  :l 

When  we  found  that  the  army  was  to  be  at  rest  over  the  Sabbath, 

appointments  were  made  in   the  different  brigades  for  two  or  three 

services  to  each  preaching  Delegate.     I  had  an  appointment  in  the 

Baptist  church  in  the  morning,  and  at  General  How- 

An  Involun-  arc['s  headquarters,  in  the  woods,  in  the  afternoon. 
tan/  Interview  mi  i  111  i 

with  Gen  Sher-  church  had  not  been  cleaned  since  its  occupa- 

man.  tion  as  a  Rebel  hospital.  The  sexton,  who  agreed  to 

put  the  house  in  order  on  Saturday  afternoon,  failed 
me,  and  only  an  hour  before  the  time  for  service  I  discovered  that 
another  man,  engaged  and  paid  for  doing  the  same  work  on  Sabbath 
morning,  had  served  me  in  the  same  way.  It  was  too  late  now  to  look 
for  help.  I  took  off  my  ministerial  coat,  and  for  one  hour,  with  the 
mercury  at  ninety  degrees,  worked  with  might  and  main.  When  I 
had  swept  out  the  straw,  cleared  the  rubbish  from  the  pulpit,  thrown 
the  bunks  out  the  window,  pitched  the  old  seats  down  from  the 
loft,  arranged  them  in  order  on  the  floor,  and  dusted  the  whole  house 
over  twice,  it  was  time  for  service.  I  sprang  up  into  the  belfry  (the 
rope  had  been  cut  away),  and,  with  some  pretty  vigorous  strokes  by 
the  bell  tongue,  told  the  people  around  that  the  hour  for  worship  had 
arrived.  Dropping  down  again  through  the  scuttle  upon  the  vesti 
bule  floor,  a  treacherous  nail  carried  away  an  important  part  of  one 
leg  of  my  pantaloons.  It  was  my  only  suit  at  the  front,  and  while 
I  was  pondering  how  I  should  present  myself  before  the  congrega 
tion,  a  Corporal  and  two  bayonets  from  General  Sherman's  headquar 
ters,  not  twenty  yards  away,  came  to  help  me  in  the  decision : 

"  Did  you  ring  the  bell  ?" 

"  I  did." 


1  Annals    U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  498-501. 


\ 


KINGSTON.  287 

"  I  am  ordered  to  arrest  you." 

"  For  what  ?" 

"  To  bring  you  to  General  Sherman's  headquarters." 

"  But,  Corporal,  I  can't  see  the  General  in  this  plight.  I  am  an 
Agent  of  the  Christian  Commission,  and  am  to  preach  here  this 
morning,  and  was  ringing  the  bell  for  service.  If  you  will  tell  the 
General  how  it  is,  it  will  be  all  right." 

"  That's  not  the  order,  sir." 

"  Well,  Corporal,  send  a  guard  with  me  to  my  quarters,  till  I  can 
wash  up  and  pin  together  this  rent." 

"  That's  not  the  order,  sir  ;— fall  in." 

Without  hat  or  coat,  and  with  gaping  wardrobe,  preceded  by  the 
Corporal  and  followed  by  the  bayonets,  I  called  at  headquarters. 
General  Corse,  Chief  of  staff,  standing  by  the  side  of  General  Sher 
man,  received  me.  Without  waiting  for  charges  or  questions,  I  said — 

"  General,  I  belong  to  the  Christian  Commission.  We  are  to  have 
service  in  the  church  across  the  way,  and  I  was  ringing  the  bell." 

"  Is  this  Sunday  ?  Some  mischievous  soldiers  alarmed  the  people 
by  ringing  the  bell,  and  an  order  was  issued  against  it ;  but  we  were 
not  aware  this  was  Sunday.  There  is  no  harm  done.  At  what  hour 
is  the  service?" — and,  bowing  me  out,  he  discharged  my  guard. 

As  I  entered,  General  Sherman  was  drumming  with  thumb  and 
finger  on  the  window-sill ;  when  the  Corporal  announced  his  prisoner, 
he  fixed  his  cold  gray  eye  on  me  for  a  moment,  motioned  to  his  Chief 
to  attend  to  the  case,  and,  without  moving  a  muscle  of  his  face,  re 
sumed  his  drumming  and  his  Sabbath  problem, — how  to  flank  John 
ston  out  of  the  Allatoona  Mountains. 

This  extra  duty  as  sexton,  and  obedience  to  the  Corporal's  "  order," 
made  it  necessary  to  procure  a  pulpit  substitute  for  the  morning. 
The  Delegate  who  preached  reported  an  interested  congregation,  and 
among  them  representatives  from  headquarters. 

In  the  afternoon  I  rode  over  to  the  Fourth  Corps,  four  miles  away. 
General  Howard  had  notified  the  regiments  around  of  the  service. 
Two  of  his  Division  commanders  were  present,  with  Brigadier-Gen 
eral  Harker,  whose  promotion  was  so  recent  that  the 

star  had  not  yet  supplanted  the  eagle  on  his  shoulder. 

J  5  Headquarters  in 

This  was  the  last  Sabbath  service  which  this  manly,      the 

modest,  gallant  officer  attended.     Five  weeks  later, 


288  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

in  the  charge  at  Kenesaw  Mountain,  he  was  shot  dead.  That  Sab 
bath  in  the  woods  I  shall  never  forget ;  the  earnest  attention  of  all 
to  the  theme, — "  The  safety  of  those  who  do  their  duty,  trusting  in 
God," — the  hearty  responses  of  the  Christian  men,  and  the  full  chorus 
in  the  closing  hymn, 

"  When  I  can  read  my  title  clear." 

The  most  effective  sermon  of  the  day,  however,  was  by  the  Gen 
eral  commanding  the  Corps,  given  upon  the  piazza  of  his  headquar 
ters,  surrounded  by  his  staff,  his  Division  commanders  and  other  gen 
eral  officers.     Nothing  could  be  more  natural  than 
A  Ma j.  General       ,  p    ,  ,.  ,.    . 

, '.     „,   .  A     the  turn  of  the  conversation  upon  religious  topics. 
Preaching  Christ. 

The  General  spoke  of  the  Saviour,  his  love  for  Him 
and  his  peace  in  His  service,  as  freely  and  simply  as  he  could  have 
spoken  in  his  own  family  circle.  He  related  instances  of  Christian 
trust,  devotion  and  triumph.  Speaking  of  the  high  calling  of  Chap 
lains,  and  the  importance  that  they  should  always  be  with  their 
regiments  at  the  front,  he  told  us  of  his  visit  to  Newton's  Division 
Hospital  the  night  after  the  battle  of  Resaca,  where  he  found  a  fair- 
faced  boy  who  could  not  live  till  morning.  He  knelt  down  on  his 
blanket  and  asked  if  there  was  anything  he  wanted  done  for  him : 
"Yes;  I  want  somebody  to  tell  me  how  to  find  the  Saviour." 
"  I  never  felt  my  ignorance  so  much  before,"  said  the  General. 
"  Here  was  a  mind  ready  now  to  hear  and  act  on  the  truth.  What 
if  I  should  give  him  wrong  directions?  How  I  wished  I  had  a  min 
ister's  training." 

And  then  he  told  us  what  directions  he  gave,  and  of  the  prayer, 
and  of  the  boy's  smile  and  peace, — appealing  now  to  me  and  then  to 
his  generals,  if  it  was  not  right  and  beautiful ;  and  so,  under  the 
pressure  unconsciously  applied  by  their  superior  officer,  with  lips  all 
unused  to  such  confession,  his  Division  commanders  acknowledged 
the  power  and  grace  of  God. 

Rev.  Mr.  Smith  adds  a  story  of  hospital  work  in 
Kingston  : 

The  wounded  and  sick  were  crowding  the  town  full.  The  men 
came  in  in  the  most  deplorable  condition.  Shelter-tents  were  hastily 


KINGSTON.  289 

erected  for  their  accommodation.  Late  one  afternoon  I  was  summoned 

to  see  an  officer  who  was  supposed  to  be  mortally 

wounded.     It  was  Capt.  Burke,  of  the  37th  Indiana  ' 


Regt.  It  did  not  take  long  to  discover  that  he  was 
a  devout  Christian.  He  asked  me  to  telegraph  to  his  wife  of  his 
condition,  praying  me  however  to  break  the  news  to  her  gently,  — 
not  to  say  that  his  wound  was  mortal.  He  spoke  to  me  freely  of  his 
past  life,  and  of  the  slight  hope  there  was  that  he  would  survive  his 
wound.  I  asked  — 

"  Captain,  how  does  it  seem  to  you  to  be  thus  stricken  down,  with 
all  your  prospects  and  hopes  cut  short  here  in  Georgia?  Isn't  it  hard 
for  you  to  give  up  life  and  leave  your  family  at  your  age  ?" 

"It  has  come  suddenly  upon'  me,"  was  his  answer;  "but  I  feel 
prepared  for  it.  I  have  lived  close  to  my  Saviour  in  the  army,  and 
tried  to  keep  my  accounts  square  every  night." 

He  did  not  die  so  soon  as  we  at  first  expected,  but  lived  to  get  as  far 
towards  home  as  Nashville,  whither  his  wife  came  to  nurse  him.  The 
few  months  during  which  he  lingered  confirmed  my  first  impressions 
at  Kingston.  He  had  indeed  lived  close  to  Christ  and  kept  his 
accounts  square.  As  he  grew  weak  his  mind  sometimes  wavered; 
he  would  call  for  his  comrades,  and  seemed  determined  to  go  to 
them  ;  but  his  wife  could  always  calm  him  by  saying  — 

"  My  dear,  Jesus  is  here  ;  that  is  all  you  want." 

His  sweet,  assured  reply  was  always  — 

"  You  are  right,  wife;  that  is  all  I  want,  —  all  I  want." 

When  the  army  moved  from  Kingston,  and  a  general 
hospital  had  been  established  further  on,  the  men  who 
were  too  badly  wounded  to  be  taken  to  the  rear  remained 
at  Kingston,  —  many  of  them  to  die  there.  Rev.  Mr. 
Smith,  returning  to  Chattanooga  a  little  later,  gives  an 
account  of  a  day's  work  among  them  :l 

Coming  back  from  the  front,  I  learned  that  the  Delegates  had  left 
Kingston,  and  that  there  was  no  Chaplain  in  either  of  the  two  hospitals. 


1  Annals,  U,  S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  501-503. 
19 


290  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

It  was  two  weeks  after  the  hard  fight  on  the  right  by  the  Fourth 
and  Twentieth  Corps,  and  I  knew  it  must  be  the 
Words    1  ^me  ^or  manv  °f  the  wounded  to  die ;  and  they  must 

not  die  alone.  I  determined  to  forego  business  at 
Chattanooga  and  stop  over.  There  were  many  low  cases.  Four  or 
five,  I  was  sure,  would  not  live  twenty-four  hours.  One  was  too 
far  gone  to  converse.  Nothing  could  be  done  but  to  write  to  his 
little  daughter,  the  only  surviving  member  of  his  family,  as  one  of 
his  comrades  said.  Another  could  speak  only  by  nods  and  the 
pressure  of  the  hand.  By  this  means  of  communication  I  learned 
that  he  was  peacefully  waiting  to  die.  As  I  prayed  at  his  cot  his 
"amen"  was  given  by  the  pressure  on  my  hand,  and  when  the  peti 
tion  rose  for  wife  and  children  the  responses  came  thick  and  fervent. 
He  slept  in  the  night,  and  never  woke.  Another  was  seeking  the 
Saviour,  and  ventured  to  trust  before  he  died. 

Another,  an  Indiana  soldier,  sent  for  me  in  the  night.  He  was 
dying, — a  fair-faced  boy  of  eighteen  years.  His  leg  had  been  cut 
off  by  a  shell,  #nd  amputation  had  prostrated  him  beyond  recovery. 

The  Three  Pho       H°  ^^  ^  Sabbath"scno()1  bov-     He  wanted   me  to 
tographs.  take  his  last  words  home  to  his  mother  and  sister : 

"  Poor  mother,  how  she  will  take  on  !  Tell  her 
not  to  cry  for  me.  I  love  Jesus.  I  put  all  my  trust  in  Him.  When 
you  prayed  with  me  this  afternoon  I  felt  my  soul  going  right  out  to 
Him.  Tell  my  sister  not  to  fret  after  me.  I  have  done  the  best 
I  could  for  my  country,  and  now  I  want  them  to  meet  me  in  heaven. 
Tell  my  sister  to  be  sure  and  hold  out  faithful." 

He  gave  me  his  memorandum  and  pocket-book  and  a  number  of 
keepsakes ;— asked  me  to  pull  the  two  rings  from  his  hand  and  send 
to  his  sister,  and  tell  her  that  they  were  taken  off  after  his  hand  was 
getting  cold.  After  prayer  we  sang-— 

"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood." 

He  joined  in,  breaking  the  tune  now  and  then  with— 

"Yes,  yes;  if  he  could  trust  Him,  I   can."     "  Yes,  when  I  die." 

"That  will  be  sweeter."     "Power  to  save;  power  to  save;  I   used 

to  sing  that  hymn  at  home,  but  it  was  never  so  good  as  this ; — 

power  to  save." 

I  gave  him  my  hand  for  good-bye.     He  drew  me  down  for  a  kiss, 


DYING  IN  GEORGIA. 


Page  291 


KINGSTON.  291 

and  Mrs.  George1  must  have  one  also,  and  the  nurse;  and  then  we 
left  him.  Before  I  had  passed  through  the  ward  the  nurse  called  me 
back  : — "  He  wants  to  speak  to  you." 

When  I  reached  the  cot  he  asked  to  see  the  daguerreotype  pictures 
in  his  memorandum-book.  I  took  out  three  and  held  them  up  one 
by  one.  Mother  came  first. 

"  Dear  mother,"  he  said,  as  he  took  it  in  his  trembling  fingers ; 
"  good-bye  ;  I  wish  I  could  see  you,  but  I  am  going  to  die  in  Georgia." 
In  tears  and  sobbing  he  pressed  the  ambrotype  to  his  lips; — "Good 
bye  ;  good-bye."  He  takes  the  next : 

"  Sister,  dear  sister ;  don't  fret  for  me ;  I'll  see  you  again  ;  only 
be  faithful;  good-bye,  dear  sister,  good-bye;"  and  he  prints  on  the 
glass  his  dying  kiss. 

The  next  one  he  gazes  upon  with  unutterable  longing.  His  lips 
quiver,  and  his  whole  frame  shakes.  He  calls  no  name.  He  kisses 
it  over  and  over,  and  holds  it  under  his  hand  on  his  breast.  I  put 
my  mouth  close  to  his  ear  and  whispered,  "  This  is  hard." 

"  Yes,  it  is  hard  ;  I  would  like  to  go  home ;  but  I  am  content." 

"You  are  dying  now,  before  you  are  twenty  years  old.  Are  you 
not  sorry  you  enlisted?" 

He  looked  at  me  steadily.  His  sobbing  ceased,  and  with  a  firm, 
deliberate  tone  he  said — 

"  Not  a  bit ;  I  was  glad  when  I  enlisted,  and  I  am  glad  now.  I 
am  willing  to  die  for  my  country." 

That  midnight  scene  cannot  be  described.  The  patients  in  the 
ward,  who  could  walk,  gathering  round ;  others  in  their  beds,  rising 
up  on  elbow ;  the  nurses  standing  about, — one  of  them  holding,  at 
the  head  of  the  cot,  the  single  candle  of  the  ward ;  the  prayer,  the 
hymn,  the  last  message,  the  good-bye,  the  family  leave-takings,  and 
the  consecration  unto  death  on  the  altar  of  country ; — they  fill  a 
blessed  page  in  my  memory,  but  I  cannot  transfer  it  to  you. 

Rev.  H.  McLeod2  recalls  an  incident  of  his  work  after 
Johnston  was  driven  from  the  Allatoona  Mountains : 


1  This  lady  volunteered  as  nurse  to  the  Indiana  soldiers  during  the  war.   When 
Gen.  Sherman  reached  the  coast  she  met  "  her  boys"  again  at  Wilmington,  N.  C., 
and  there,  prostrated  with  toil  and  fever,  died  in  one  of  their  hospitals. 

2  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Brentwood,  N.  H. 


292  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Captain  B.,  of  an  Ohio  regiment,  was  brought  in  fatally  wounded; 
yet  he  did  not  so  think.  He  was  a  rare  man,  and  inspired  peculiar 
respect  in  all  who  came  into  his  presence.  Every  one  who  ap 
proached  his  part  of  the  ward  stepped  lightly  and 
T  spoke  low.  With  his  consent  I  read  the  twenty-third 

Psalm  and  offered  a  brief  prayer.  At  parting  he 
took  my  hand  and  pressed  it  very  warmly ;  the  movement  told  me 
that  he  was  either  already  a  Christian,  or  at  least  wished  to  lean  upon 
Christ.  A  Surgeon  told  me  that  he  was  not  a  Christian,  he  thought, 
though  strictly  correct  in  all  his  outward  life. 

I  saw  him  several  times  until  I  had  a  reasonable  assurance  that 
the  grace  of  God  had  brought  him  to  know  the  Saviour.  He  still 
expected  to  recover.  One  evening  the  Doctor  called  me  hurriedly, 
saying  the  Captain  wanted  at  once  to  see  me.  I  was  soon  at  his 
side ;  the  Surgeon  had  told  him  that  he  would  scarcely  live  until 
morning;  he  wanted  me  to  write  three  letters  for  him.  His  had 
been  a  severe  struggle, — that  of  giving  up  life  with  all  its  prospects, 
but  he  could  already  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done."  The  first  letter  was 
to  an  elder  brother ;  its  burden  was  that,  though  both  had  neglected 
the  Christian  teachings  of  their  revered  grandfather  and  precious 
mother,  still  there  was  forgiveness  with  Christ ;  he  hoped  that  he 
himself  had  obtained  that  forgiveness,  and  expected  soon  to  meet  his 
loved  teachers  in  heaven.  Then  came  a  letter  of  counsel  to  a 
younger  brother.  I  doubt  not  the  "Dear  Charlie"  will  prize  it, 
coming  as  it  did  from  a  dying  brother's  heart,  as  more  precious  than 
gold. 

Then,  with  some  hesitation,  as  if  too  sacred  to  speak,  he  gave  me 
the  name  of  her  whom  he  loved  above  all  on  earth.  He  was  too 
weak  to  dictate  now  ;  the  tender  duty  had  been  put  off  too  long ;  I 
must  do  it  for  him,  as  best  I  could : 

"Tell  her  how  much  I  miss  her  sweet  voice  and  presence;  give 
my  love  to  her  excellent  father  and  mother,  and  ask  her  to  say  that 
it  seems  presumption  in  me  to  try  to  comfort  such  mature  and  earnest 
Christians." 

I  wrote  the  letter  and  read  it  to  him  ;  he  was  satisfied,  adding  a 
wish  that  he  had  known  me  sooner.  I  read  to  him  the  description 
of  heaven  in  the  7th  chapter  of  the  Revelation. 

"Yes,  that  is  beautiful,"  said  he,— "'Washed  and  made  white  in 


KINGSTON.  293 

the  blood  of  the  Lamb.'     If  it  was  God's  will,"  he  solemnly  added, 
"  I  would  like  to  live  longer, — but  His  will  be  done." 

Rev.  G.  C.  Noyes l  adds  another  incident : 

Passing  from  one  cot  to  another,  I  came  to  a  man  whose  hair  and 
beard  were  gray.  I  spoke  to  him,  cheerfully  : 

"  Your  gray  hairs  show  that  you  ought  to  be  a  soldier  of  Jesus, 
but  not  a  soldier  of  the  Government." 

He  caught  first  at  the  imputation  in  the  last  part        >t  Complete  in 

Christ  Jesus. 
of  my  remark : 

"  I  don't  think,  sir,  any  man  in  my  regiment  has  done  the  Govern 
ment  more  faithful  service  than  I.  I  never  lost  a  day  by  sickness." 

"How  old  are  you?" 

"  Fifty-two  ;  and  my  term  of  three  years  expires  Sept.  12th." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  now?" 

Turning  down  the  counterpane,  I  saw  that  his  right  arm  was  am 
putated  close  to  the  shoulder,  and  his  right  leg  close  to  the  knee.  He 
had  been  shot  in  the  leg  before  Atlanta  on  August  7th,  and  as  he 
was  being  borne  from  the  field,  another  ball  struck  him  in  the  arm. 

"  Giving  an  arm  and  a  leg  for  the  country,"  said  he,  "  is  no  great 
gift  for  one  to  whom  Jesus  has  given  all  things.  It  is  a  free  offering. 
He  will  accept  the  sacrifice ;  and  all  the  more  bless  the  cause  for 
which  it  was  offered  up." 

He  had  walked  with  the  Saviour  for  many  years;  and  I  have  never 
seen  such  exalted  patriotism  in  combination  with  such  victorious 
faith  in  Jesus.  Physically  a  mutilated  man,  he  was  yet  "  complete  in 
Christ  Jesus."  He  was  "  mustered  out"  by  the  death  angel  on  Sept. 
7th,  five  days  before  his  term  of  service  would  have  expired ;  and,  I 
doubt  not,  with  all  wounds  and  hurts  healed,  is  now  resting  at  home. 

Two  incidents  from  the  reminiscences  of  the  General 
Field  Agent  may  close  this  chapter  and  the  record  of 
the  Atlanta  campaign  : 

A  soldier  came  into  our  rooms  in  Nashville  to  get  an  envelope. 


Pastor  of  (N.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Laporte,  Ind. 


294 


CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 


He  said  he  had  a  letter  to  send  home  for  one  of  his  comrades.     He 
drew  from  his   blouse  a  small  package,   carefully 
M   ^ H*  '     "      wrapped,  and  opening  it,  held  up  the  scrap  of  a  leaf 
from  a  memorandum-book.     It  had  bloody  finger 
prints  on  it,  and  a  few  words  hastily  written  with  a  pencil.    The  writer 


THE     LAST     LETTER. 


said  he  was  the  soldier's  "partner."  In  the  charge  on  Kenesaw 
Mountain  he  found  him  staggering  back  from  the  line,  the  blood 
streaming  from  his  mouth,  and  covering  his  hands  and  clothes.  A 
minie  ball  had  cut  off  his  tongue  at  the  root.  He  tried  to  speak,  but 
could  not.  Finally,  by  motions,  he  made  his  partner  understand  his 


ATLANTA.  295 

want, — paper  and  pencil.  A  scrap  was  torn  from  the  diary ;  and  on 
it  the  boy,  held  up  by  his  comrade,  with  fingers  dripping  in  blood, 
and  trembling  in  death,  wrote — 

"  Father,  meet  me  in  heaven." 

He  tried  to  write  his  name,  but  it  was  too  late ;  life  had  fled  ; 
where  the  name  should  have  been  was  a  faint,  irregular,  vanishing 
line.  Thus  do  the  thoughts  of  our  soldiers,  waking,  dreaming,  dying, 
turn  ever  homeward. 

After  we  had  occupied  Atlanta,  a  Delegate  was  sent  for  by  a  nurse 
to  see  a  man  who  was  about  to  die  in  one  of  the  warehouse  hospitals. 
He  found  him  a  young  man  of  Christian  education,  but  struggling 
with  painful  doubts  as  to  the  truth  of  the  Bible  and 
the  way  of  salvation  through  Christ.  He  wanted  to  and  Mother  too" 
believe,  but  could  not.  The  Delegate  had  frequent 
interviews  with  him,  but  seemed  to  make  no  progress  in  the  attempt 
to  lead  him  to  the  Saviour.  One  night  the  soldier  called  the  nurse 
and  asked  him  to  set  a  candle  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  so  that  the  light 
might  strike  upon  a  "Silent  Comforter"  hanging  upon  the  wall. 
The  leaf  that  had  been  turned  over  for  that  day  bore  the  verse : 
"Whoso  cometh  unto  Me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  In  the  morn 
ing  early  the  soldier  again  sent  for  the  Delegate  and  asked  him  to 
feel  under  his  pillow  for  a  letter  from  his  mother.  It  was  an  affec 
tionate  entreaty  to  her  son  to  accept  Christ.  As  the  Delegate  read, 
he  came  to  the  words,  "  Whoso  cometh  unto  Me,  I  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out." 

"  There,"  said  the  sick  man,  "  that's  what  I  want.  I  thought 
mother  said  that.  Read  it  again."  It  was  read : 

"  Mother  says  that,  does  she  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"And  it's  in  the  Bible  too?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  it  must  be  true.  Jesus  will  receive  me.  I  will  come  to 
Him.  Here,  Lord,  I  give  myself  up." 

So  far  as  could  be  determined  from  the  few  days  of  remaining 
earthly  experience,  it  was  a  genuine  surrender  of  the  will  to  its  Lord. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE    EASTERN  ARMIES. 

FROM  THE  INVESTMENT  OF  PETERSBURG,  UNTIL  THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  WAR. 
June  1864— April  1865. 

THE  movements  to  get  into  Petersburg  before  the 
main  body  of  Lee's  army  could  arrive  to  defend  it,  were 
unsuccessful.  Two  assaults,  on  June  16th  and  18th, 
were  repulsed  with  heavy  loss ;  and  the  most  that  could 
be  done  was  to  extend  the  flanks  of  the  army, — on  the 
north,  along  the  James,  towards  Richmond,  and  on  the 
south,  towards  the  Weldon  railroad.  Towards  the  close 
of  July  advantage  was  taken  of  Lee's  withdrawal  of  five 
divisions  of  his  army  to  the  north  of  the  James  to  meet 
demonstrations  against  Fort  Darling,  to  explode  a  mine 
in  front  of  Burnside's  Corps.  A  Rebel  fort  was  blown 
up,  but  the  succeeding  assault  was  a  failure.  A  fort 
night  later  both  flanks  were  again  extended.  This  time 
Warren  took  and  held  the.  Weldon  road.  In  the  close 
of  September  and  beginning  of  October,  Warren's  lines 
were  again  extended  at  the  south,  and  Fort  Harrison, 
an  important  Confederate  defence  to  the  north  of  the 
James,  was  captured  by  Gen.  Butler.  This  sanguinary 
campaign  closed  with  the  movement  of  October  27th,  in 
which  all  the  forces  that  could  be  spared  from  the 
trenches  were  thrown  against  the  enemy's  works  cover- 


296 


BEFOKE  EICHMOND  FELL.  297 

ing  Hatcher's  Run  and  the  Boydton  plank-road.  Our 
forces  had  the  advantage  in  the  fighting,  but  prudence 
decided  against  holding  the  long,  thin  line,  and  by  No 
vember  1st  the  army  was  again  about  in  the  position 
held  before  the  movement. 

There  was  comparative  quiet  after  this,  except  a  per 
manent  extension  of  the  flank  to  Hatcher's  Bun  in  Feb 
ruary,  1865,  until  Lee's  attempt  in  March  to  cut  our 
army  in  twain  by  a  well-planned  but  poorly  executed 
assault  on  Fort  Steedman.  Immediately  after  this  be 
gan  the  final  movements  of  Gen.  Grant,  which  resulted, 
on  Sunday,  April  2d,  in  the  evacuation  of  Petersburg 
and  Richmond.  One  week  later  the  Confederate  "Army 
of  Northern  Virginia"  surrendered. 

The  incidents  of  the  period  covered  by  these  events 
are  of  such  a  character  that  we  shall  group  them  with 
less  regard  to  the  order  of  their  occurrence  than  we 
have  done  in  the  other  chapters.  From  the  account  of 
Rev.  E.  F.  Williams,  we  take  the  history  of  the  begin 
ning  of  the  Commission  work  in  its  new  circumstances : 

A  station  had  been  established  very  early  in  May  at  Bermuda 
Hundred,  by  Mr.  J.  R.  Miller,  with  a  large  corps  of  Delegates.  This 
was  for  work  in  Gen.  Butler's  army.  There  were  two  hospitals  here, 
and  a  number  of  batteries  without  Chaplains.  At  Point  of  Rocks, 
four  miles  up  the  Appomattox,  a  hospital  was  established  which  re 
mained  throughout  the  war.  From  Bermuda  Hundred,  the  wounded 
of  Sheridan's  cavalry  were  visited,  and  large  quantities  of  stores 
distributed  to  them.  When  the  Eighteenth  Corps  went  to  White 
House  Landing,  Mr.  Miller  and  his  corps  of  Delegates  accompanied 
them,  establishing  there  the  station  which  did  so  much  to  relieve  the 
wounded. 

Delegates  and  stores  reached  City  Point,  June  15th.  A  station 
was  at  once  established  which  existed  for  more  than  a  year.  Here 


298  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

Delegates  reported  as  they  entered  the  army,  and  stores  were  re 
ceived.  Supply-wagons  for  the  front  were  almost  always  waiting  in 
front  of  the  warehouse ; — in  short,  this  was  the  Commission's  busi 
ness  centre,  and  so  continued  until  the  fall  of  Richmond.  It  was  a 
religious  centre  as  well.  Chaplains,  officers,  Surgeons,  Stewards, 
gun-boat  Commandants, — all  gathered  here  to  ask  and  to  receive. 

We  shall  begin  with  incidents  connected  with  physi 
cal  relief.  Mr.  Ludlow  Thomas,  of  New  York  City, 
writing  in  July  from  the  General  Hospital  at  City  Point, 

says : 

I  found  the  boys  very  anxious  to  write  home.  Some  had  paid  as 
high  as  forty  cents  for  a  sheet  of  paper  and  envelope.  Pens,  ink  and 
pencils  were  scarce,  so  I  cut  pencils  into  halves,  and  distributed  these, 
telling  the  boys  to  write  their  letters  in  pencil,  and  I 
ters  for  the  Men  wou^  i11^  the  directions  for  them.  The  first  day  I 
directed  and  mailed  over  eighty  letters.  For  many 
of  the  poor  fellows,  too  badly  wounded  to  hold  a  pencil,  I  wrote  let 
ters,  sitting  alongside  of  them  on  the  ground.  Many  of  the  epistles 
proved  to  be  the  last.  At  first  they  wanted  me  to  compose  the  letters 
for  them  ;  but  I  told  them  it  would  be  much  better  to  dictate,  that 
such  a  letter  would  please  their  families  far  more  than  a  stranger's. 
They  knew  that  everything  said  would  be  sacred  with  me,  and  most 
touching  were  some  of  those  messages  home.  Not  a  few  of  the  letter 
sheets  were  wet  with  the  tears  of  the  amanuensis. 

Where  it  was  possible  I  always  had  them  sign  their  own  names, 
and  often  held  up  the  poor  fellows  to  do  it.  Once  I  gave  a  pencil  to 
a  man  to  sign  his  name,  and  seeing  that  he  was  rather  long  about  it, 
I  turned  to  talk  to  another  soldier,  so  as  not  to  embarrass  him. 
When  I  came  back  I  saw  that  the  grateful  boy's  delay  was  caused 
by  his  adding,  in  a  trembling  hand — 

"  This  letter  was  written  for  me  by  an  angel  of  the  Christian  Com 
mission." 

Mr.  Walter  S.  Carter1  gives  an  account  of  relief  work 


Of  Milwaukee,  Wis. 


AFTER    FORT    HARRISON.  299 

on  the  extreme  right,  just  after  the  taking  of  Fort  Har 
rison  : 


In  company  with  Rev.  Dr.  Philip  Schaff,  ^ev.  L.  E.  Charpiot2  and 
several  others,  I  left  Point  of  Rocks  Hospital  on  the  afternoon  of 
September  30th,  for  the  front  of  the  Army  of  the  James.  A  large 
four-horse  Commission  wagon,  loaded  down  with  supplies,  accompa 
nied  us. 

Emerging  from  the  woods  into  an  open  field  near  the  James,  the 
rapid  discharge  of  artillery,  intermingled  with  the  continuous  crash 
of  musketry,  apprised  us  of  a  renewal  of  the  contest  of  the  day  be 
fore.  We  hurried  on,  arriving  at  Aiken's  Landing  about  five,  cross 
ing  the  river  on  the  muffled  pontoon  thrown  over  by  the  Eighteenth 
Corps  on  Wednesday  evening.  Pushing  on  up  the  Varina  road,  we 
soon  came  across  the  skirmish  line  held  by  the  enemy  when  our 
forces  advanced  ;  and  a  little  further  on,  another  and  stronger  line, 
not  yet  completed.  Entering  a  thick  pine  wood,  night  and  rain 
overtook  us  ;  ahead  of  us  was  a  long  train  of  army  wagons  ;  behind 
us  the  ambulance  train  ;  past  us  every  moment  dashed  horsemen,  — 
some  towards  the  front,  others  towards  the  rear  ;  in  the  woods  on 
either  hand  our  men  were  kindling  fires  to  dry  their  clothes  and  make 
their  coffee.  Still  along  we  went,  until  turning  to  the  right  we  en 
tered  the  ample  grounds  of  the  Cox  mansion,  where 
we  found  the  flying  hospital  already  established.  ^ 
The  yard  was  full  of  tents  filled  with  wounded  men, 
—  officers  of  all  grades,  and  privates,  Union  and  Rebel,  white  and 
black  soldiers.  Hundreds  had  already  arrived  and  more  were  con 
stantly  coming.  From  every  quarter  moans  of  agony  and  cries  for 
help  could  be  heard,  but  there  were  none  to  answer  them.  Every 
soldier  who  had  gone  through  the  two  days'  terrible  conflict  un 
harmed,  was  standing,  that  dark,  rainy  Autumn  night,  without  fooji 
or  drink,  with  his  face  to  the  foe,  in  the  trenches  a  mile  in  advance 
of  us.  The  Surgeons  had  prepared  their  operating-tables,  and  were 
already  at  their  awful  work. 


1  Of  the  German  Reformed  Church ;  Secretary  of  the  N.  Y.  Sabbath  Com- 
mittee. 

2  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Stratford,  Conn. 


300  CHRISTIAN   COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Getting  permission  of  Dr.  Richardson,  Surgeon  in  charge,  we  im 
mediately  pitched  our  tent  for  work.  An  adjoining  house  was 
sought,  a  fire  built,  a  large  kettle  of  water  put  over,  and  coffee  made 
by  the  gallon.  Condensed  milk  and  sugar  were  added.  With  pails 
filled,  and  provided  with  tin  cups  and  lanterns,  our  seven  Delegates 
went  forth  on  their  errand  into  every  tent,  until  there  was  not  a 
wounded  man  who  was  not  abundantly  supplied.  Boxes  were  then 
filled  with  fresh,  soft  crackers,  and  again  the  circuit  of  the  tents  was 
made,  and  the  men  helped  to  all  they  would  have.  Next  more  coffee 
was  carried  round,  and  after  that,  in  cases  where  it  was  thought 
necessary,  Jamaica  ginger  or  brandy  was  given  to  the  men.  Then 
another  visit  was  made  with  a  supply  of  shirts  and  drawers  for  such 
as  needed  them. 

"  We  never  expected  such  treatment  as  this,"  said  a  wounded 
Rebel  to  a  Delegate. 

"  Give  me  your  name,  so  that  when  the  war  is  over  I  can  come 
to  see  you,  and  thank  you  better  than  I  can  now,"  said  another. 

Engaged  in  such  a  work,  the  hours  went  by  unnoticed, — seven, 
eight,  nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve  and  one  were  gone  before  we  even 
tried  to  sleep.  Going  into  the  house,  we  wrapped  our  blankets  about 

us,  and  were  scarcely  on  the  floor,  when  word  came 
Broken  Rest. 

that  twenty  more  ambulances  loaded  with  wounded 

had  arrived.  We  rose  at  once,  and  again  made  all  the  former  rounds 
of  distribution  to  the  sufferers.  Making  a  second  attempt  to  get  a 
little  rest,  we  were  hardly  asleep  when  the  Surgeon  came  to  inform 
us  that  the  enemy  would  probably  renew  the  attack  at  daylight,  and 
that  we  were  within  range  of  their  shells.  Immediately  we  struck 
our  tent,  loaded  up  our  supplies  again,  and  by  the  time  the  army 
train  was  ready  to  move,  our  wagon  was  ready  for  its  place  in  the 
line. 

The  ways  in  which  the  men  might  be  helped  were 
almost  numberless.  Eev.  J.  Gordon  Carnachan,1  writing 
in  October,  tells  of  one : 

Bill  D was  a  private  in  the  91st  P.  V.,  a  young  lad  about 


1  Pastor  of  (O.  S  )  Presbyterian  Church,  Troy,  Bradford  co.,  Penna. 


FIFTH    CORPS    HOSPITAL.  301 

seventeen,  somewhat  thoughtless,  and,  I  regret  to  say,  given  to  card- 
playing,  for  which  I  had  several  times  remonstrated  with  him,  once 
even  threatening  to  report  him  if  I  caught  him  at  it 
again  ;  for  it  was  an  amusement  particularly  forbid-  A  jiundredDol- 
den  in  the  wards  of  the  Fifth  Corps  Hospital.  One  larsfor  Mother. 
day  he  accosted  me — 

"  Say,  Chaplain,  could  you  get  this  changed  for  me  ?"  handing  me 
a  hundred  dollar  Treasury  note  with  coupons  attached. 

"  Oh  yes,"  I  answered,  taking  it ;  "  but  what  do  you  want  change 
for,  Bill  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  know  a  fellow  wants  something  to  spend,  and  that  is 
of  no  use  to  me  as  it  is." 

"  Well,  I  can  get  it  changed  for  you,"  I  said  ;  but  his  card-playing 
propensities  recurred  to  me,  and  willing  to  have  a  short  talk  with 
him,  I  sat  down  on  the  bed  close  by.  In  a  roundabout  way  I  got 
him  to  talk  about  his  mother,  about  his  younger  brother  and  sisters, 
about  the  Sabbath-school  he  had  attended,  and  about  home  affairs 
generally,  till  I  saw  he  was  in  a  very  softened  mood.  He  said  at 
last— 

"  Well,  read  that,  Chaplain,  and  tell  me  if  you  think  there  is  a 
better  mother  in  the  world  than  mine."  And  he  handed  me  a  letter 
he  had  but  a  short  time  previously  received  from  home.  I  had  Bill 
just  where  I  wanted  him,  and  handing  him  back  the  letter,  said — 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Bill,  the  very  best  thing  you  can  do  with  this 
note"  (I  had  held  it  in  my  hand  all  the  time),  "  is  to  send  it  un 
changed  to  this  good  mother  of  yours." 

He  paused  a  moment,  then  slapping  his  thigh,  as  if  it  were  a  most 
wonderful,  novel  idea,  exclaimed — 

"By  thunder,  Chaplain,  it's  a  good  thought;  send  her  the  note." 

I  walked  off  with  Bill's  Treasury  note  in  triumph,  satisfied  that  I 
had  made  a  hundred  dollars  for  his  widowed  mother;  and  with  the 
conviction  that  Bill,  with  all  his  harum-scarum  habits,  had  a  streak 
of  real  goodness  in  him." 

Rev.  J.  M.  Lowrie,  D.D.,1  in  a  narrative  of  his  march 
in  December  with  the  Fifth  Corps  and  the  First  Divis- 


1  Pastor  of  First  (O.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind. 


302  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

ion  of  the  Second  and  Gregg's  cavalry,  along  the  line 
of  the  Weldon  railroad,  gives  a  picture  of  the  Delegates' 
willingness  to  share  the  soldier's  hardest  lot  for  the  sake 
of  ministering  to  his  comfort : 

Denied  the  privilege  of  taking  wagons,  Corps  Agent  Chase  asked 

for  volunteers  to  go  on  foot.     Mr.  E.  W.  Metcalf,1  Mr.  Lewis  Morris,2 

Rev.  S.  T.  Livermore,3  Rev.  I.  S.  Schilling4  and  myself  volunteered. 

We  had  to  carry  our  own  rations  and  blankets,  and 

march  with  the  men.  We  were  up  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  Ranks. 

on  the  morning  of  December  7th,  and  after  stowing 
away  our  five  days'  supply  of  "  hard-tack,"  coffee  and  bread,  were 
ready  to  start  at  five  for  the  headquarters  of  the  3d  division  of  the 
ambulance  train,  with  which  we  were  to  go  forward.  The  march 
began  along  the  Jerusalem  plank-road,  in  the  midst  of  a  drizzling, 
cold  rain, — only  a  foretaste  however  of  what  was  to  come.  Fifteen 
miles  from  camp  we  reached  the  Nottaway,  where  we  were  detained 
until  dark  laying  a  pontoon  bridge.  We  crossed  at  last  with  the  first 
division,  and  went  on  five  miles  further,  almost  to  Sussex  C.  H.,  where 
we  camped  for  the  night.  We  had  no  tents  ;  so  all  we  could  do  was  to 
spread  some  flat  fence-rails  in  front  of  our  fire,  put  our  blankets  on 
top  and  try  to  sleep.  But  to  us  uninitiated,  the  soft  side  of  fence-rails 
was  not  conducive  to  rest.  At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  a  sudden 
dash  of  rain  in  our  faces  caused  a  hasty  resurrection  from  our  couch 
of  rails,  and  before  three  the  bugle  note  of  preparation  for  the  march 
was  sounded.  Ere  it  was  light  we  joined  the  forward-moving  columns. 
Passing  Sussex  C.  H.,  we  turned  to  the  right,  and  struck  the  Weldon 
road  at  Jarrett's  Station.  The  work  of  destruction  here  began  with 
out  any  serious  opposition  from  the  enemy.  By  the  light  of  the 
burning  railroad  we  spent  our  second  night,  encamped  on  high  ground 
and  exposed  to  the  cold  winds.  We  shivered  through  the  few  hours 
allotted  for  sleep. 

Before  light  next  morning  we  were  again  in  motion.     The  troops 
tore  up  the  track,  burned  the  ties  and  bent  the  rails  along  nearly 


1  Of  Bangor,  Me.  2  Qf  Brooklyn. 

8  Of  Lowville,  N.  Y.  *  Of  Clarksburg,  Va. 


ALONG    THE    WELDON    KAILROAD.  303 

twenty  miles,  to  the  bridge  at  Hicksford.  Three  miles  from  that 
place  at  noon,  the  main  army  halted,  while  the  cavalry  and  one 
infantry  division  finished  the  work  of  destruction,  repelling  repeated 
attacks  of  the  Confederates.  By  the  burning  road  we  camped  again 
on  the  third  night.  We  put  pine  brush  this  time  under  our  blankets 
to  protect  ourselves  from  the  wet  ground  ;  but  soon  after  we  lay 
down  it  began  to  rain.  After  a  while  this  was  turned  to  sleeting  and 
freezing,  so  that  in  the  morning  we  were  stiff  with  ice.  We  renewed 
our  fire,  but  it  was  scarcely  any  protection  against  the  pitiless  storm. 

With  daylight  came  the  order  for  our  return  march.  The  expedi 
tion  had  been  a  complete  success,  and  we  could  at  least  thoroughly 
sympathize  with  the  joy  and  alacrity  wherewith  the  men  prepared 
for  the  homeward  tramp  to  the  comparative  comfort  of  their  camps. 
All  day  till  ten  o'clock  at  night  we  waded  through  the  mud  and  wet, 
making  a  Sabbath  day's  journey  of  twenty-five  miles.  One  of  our 
party  gave  out  on  the  morning  of  the  last  day ;  another  could 
scarcely  drag  himself  into  camp, — where  our  brethren  warmly  wel 
comed  us,  and  were  untiring  in  ministering  to  our  wants. 

There  were  but  few  men  wounded  in  the  expedition,  so  there  was 
little  opportunity  for  our  anticipated  work.  Yet  we  had  number 
less  little  proofs  that  our  weary  mission  had  not  been  in  vain.  Many 
a  word  of  comfort  to  tired  and  desponding  men  it  had  been  our  priv 
ilege  to  drop  as  we  went  along  at  their  side.  Many  we  were  able 
to  aid  materially  in  other  ways.  But  it  was  the  sight  of  our  sharing 
with  them  the  dangers  and  toils  of  the  way  which  most  affected  both 
officers  and  men,  strengthening  their  confidence  in  the  reality  of  our 
ministry,  and  giving  us  an  authority  when  we  spoke  to  them  again. 
We  had  but  done  our  duty,  yet  the  brave  boys  thought  we  had  done 
much  more. 

It  is  impossible  to  measure  the  value  of  the  little 
words  of  sympathy  which  the  Delegate  could  drop  as 
he  labored.  Rev.  N.  M.  Bailey,1  writing  from  New 
Market  Roads  in  the  Army  of  the  James  in  January, 

1865,  says : 


Pastor  of  the  Meth.  Epis.  Church,  Henniker,  N.  H. 


304  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

One  day  a  soldier  came  into  our  tent  and  sat  down;  said  he  had 
come  for  a  little  talk.  He  was  in  trouble.  He  went  through  all  the 
particulars  of  his  case.  I  said  to  him  at  the  end — 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  am  very  sorry,  but  we  can  do 

A    Word   of  ,,  .        f,  ,, 

nothing  lor  you. 

"  I  know  that ; — I  know  you  can't,"  he  rejoined  ; 
"  but  I  thought  a  word  or  two  from  a  Christian  man  would  help  me 
a  good  deal,  even  if  he  told  me  he  couldn't  do  anything." 

Rev.  H.  J.  Patrick,1  ministering  to  the  wounded  in 
February  after  the  extension  of  our  left  wing  to  Hatch 
er's  Run,  tells  the  story  of  a  hospital  quilt : 

I  came  to  one  bright  countenance,  that  of  Jonas  Hefele,  Co.  G., 
94th  N.  Y.  He  looked  up  at  me  smilingly,  from  beneath  a  very 
neat  bed  quilt.  I  asked  him  if  he  had  slept  well. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  answered  very  cheerfully. 

"He  GivethHis  ,.-  .  1^-1^^  .-\ 

„          „      „  My  eye  just  then  caught  sight  of  a  motto  on  the 

quilt.  I  read  it  and  showed  it  to  him :  "'He  giveth 
His  beloved  sleep.'  Kennebunk,  Me.,  Soldiers'  Aid  Society."  What  a 
smile  went  over  his  happy  face,  as  he  read  and  re-read  it. 

"You  must  sleep  well  with  that  motto  near  you,"  said  I. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "do  you  know  who  wrote  it?" 

It  was  in  a  lady's  hand.  I  told  him  I  did  not,  but  that  I  knew 
who  wrote  the  first  words ;  and  then  I  spoke  to  him  of  who  "  the  be 
loved"  were,  and  who  it  was  that  gave  them  sleep.  And  I  could  see 
that  he  was  listening  earnestly  to  every  word  I  said. 

How  cheerful  the  brave  boys  were, — all  of  them.  One  I  saw  look 
ing  comically  at  the  bullet-hole  through  his  leg. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  that's  a  fancy  hole.     Now,"  he  continued  argu- 

mentatively,  "  that'll  get  me  a  furlough,  just  what 
Cheerfulness.  .„  ,,„ 

my  wire  wants. 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  W.  Newton,  Mass. 

2  Mr.  C.  E.  Bolton,  a  Delegate  in  August,  1864,  writes:  "  One  day  while  attend 
ing  to  the  wants  of  wounded  Union  and  Kebel  soldiers,  huddled  together  on 
board  the  boat  '  Ida/  which  stopped  at  City  Point  on  its  way  to  Fortress  Monroe, 
I  listened  to  the  following  conversation  between  two  soldiers, — one  Union,  th? 


HATCHER'S  RUN.  305 

Another  looked  up  at  me,  with  tears  coming  out  of  such  glad  eyes: 
"  God  has  been  very  good  to  me  ;  I've  been  thinking  of  His  pre 
serving  care." 

Rev.  Thos.  H.  Pearne1  writes  of  the  same  battles  : 

During  the  night  and  through  the  next  day  we  worked,  helping 
the  men  from  and  into  ambulances,  giving  them  coffee,  farina,  cor 
dials  and  words  of  comfort  and  cheer.  The  night  was  bitterly  cold. 

Some  of  the  wounded  remained  in  the  ambulances 

"God  Bliss  the 
for  ten  hours,  scantily  covered,  —  some  01  them  with 


of  Fees" 
only  a  single  blanket.    Three  poor  fellows  died  thus, 

whose  wounds  were  not  necessarily  fatal.  There  were  about  eight 
hundred  in  all  to  be  attended  to.  The  men  were  very  demonstrative 
in  their  gratitude. 

An  Irishman,  whom  I  had  several  times  assisted,  and  who  was 
shivering  in  the  bitter  cold,  inquired  of  me  — 

"Are  ye  a  Chaplain?" 

"No." 

"  A  Surgeon  ?" 

"  No." 

"  And  what  be  yees,  thin  ?" 

"  A  Delegate  of  the  Christian  Commission." 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  thim  ;  but  I  say,  God  bliss  all  the  likes 
of  yees." 

Rev.  J.  H.  Moore2  illustrates  further  the  ministry  of 
sympathy,  in  a  letter  from  City  Point,  in  March  : 

I  have  no  doubt  many  sick  and  wounded  die  in  the  hospitals  from 


other  a  Rebel.  Both  had  undergone  amputation,  and  the  nurses  were  trying  to 
place  the  Union  soldier  on  a  stretcher;  his  leg  was  in  such  a  condition  that  they 
were  afraid  to  touch  it.  The  brave  fellow  laid  hold  of  the  stump  himself  and 
steadied  it,  then  told  them  to  put  him  on.  The  Rebel  admiring  the  courage  dis 
played,  said,  'Well,  Yank,  you're  full  of  pluck,  anyhow.'  'Yes,  Johnny,'  was 
the  Union  boy's  answer,  'and  I  calculate  to  keep  full  of  pluck  as  long  as  my  leg 
is  four  inches  longer  than  yours.' " 

1  Member  of  Portland  (Oregon)  Quarterly  Conference,  Meth.  Episc.  Church. 

2  Minister  of  Farm  Eidge  (0.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  111. 

20 


306  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

sheer  want  of  sympathy.     I  called  one  day,  for  the  first  time,  on  a 
soldier  who  had  been  sick  for  several  weeks  with  chronic  diarrhoea. 

He  did  not  know  that  he  was  any  better ;  had  not 

MakiiKi     him  .,,  i  •     £•  •       i      •     i       i  i  i 

written  to  his  mends,  indeed  was  not  able  to  write 

smue. 

himself;  did  not  want  any  one  to  write  for  him ;  did 
not  care  even  that  his  friends  should  know  he  was  in  the  hospital. 
He  had  scarcely  any  appetite ;  did  not  get  anything  he  cared  to  eat. 
All  this  I  drew  from  him  by  point  blank  questions,  for  he  was  too 
despondent  even  to  converse.  I  asked  him  to  think  of  something  he 
would  like  to  eat : 

"  I  don't  know  of  anything,"  was  the  lugubrious  answer.  I  tempted 
him  with  the  Commission  "bill  of  fare,"  dwelling  in  a  luscious, 
cookery-book  kind  of  way,  over  the  several  articles.  A  smile, — very 
awkward  it  was,  for  the  requisite  muscles  were  indignant  with  disuse, 
— came  into  his  face  at  last : 

"  I  think  I  could  eat  some  canned  peaches,  if  I  had  them." 
How  the  poor  boy  relished  them,  when  they  were  brought !   After 
wards,  as  often  as  I  entered  the  tent,  he  always  greeted  me  with  a 
smile,  and  was  very  ready  to  converse. 

The  army  was  pretty  generally  paid  towards  the  close 
of  February.  Access  to  the  express  offices  was  almost 
impossible  for  the  immense  majority  of  the  men.  The 
Commission  undertook  to  carry  to  the  offices  what  the 
soldiers  wished  to  send  home,  and  return  express  receipts 
to  the  men.1  In  the  middle  of  March,  when  marching 
orders  were  received,  another  service,  it  was  found,  could 
be  rendered  to  the  men ;  this  was  expressing  home  the 

1  It  is  impossible  to  give  full  statistics  of  this  work.  It  was  very  tiresome 
while  it  lasted,  often  keeping  a  "  receiver"  at  each  station  busy  from  early  morn 
ing  until  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening;  after  this  the  invoices  had  all  to  be  made 
out,  An  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  transactions  may  be  got  from  the  reports 
of  several  stations;— At  City  Point  Hospital  during  seven  weeks  of  March  and 
April,  $288,000  were  thus  received.  From  Sheridan's  Cavalry,  in  one  day,  at 
Hancock  Station,  $30,000.  In  a  division  of  the  Fifth  Corps,  over  $55,000.  The 
amounts  were  mostly  small,  ranging  usually  from  $10  to  $50,  though  there  were 
many  sums  exceeding  these. 


QUIXXIPIAC    TABERNACLE.  30? 

AVinter  and  extra  clothing,  &c.,  which  they  would  not 
need  in  the  prospective  campaign.1  Rev.  Dr.  Robert 
Patterson  recalls  an  incident  connected  with  this 
work : 

Riding  up  to  a  prominent  pine  tree  pole  from  which  the  stars  and 
stripes  swung  out,  I  discovered  a  large  chapel  and  tent.  I  should 
have  supposed  myself  at  an  express  office,  if  there  had  not  been  evi 
dence  to  the  contrary.  Scores  of  soldiers,  with  all 

manner  of  bundles,  gum  blankets  and  other  gear,      n  7  „.  °%e?  ,/ 

God  .Blessing. 

packed  up  in  candle  and  cracker  boxes,  in  old  shirts, 
handkerchiefs  and  towels — in  everything  capable  of  containing 
clothing,  were  crowding  round  the  door  of  a  large  square  tent  with 
marquee  roof,  bearing  a  flag  marked  "  Quinnipiac  Tabernacle."2  It 
was  seated  with  rough  lumber,  church-fashion,  and  contained  several 
wagon  loads  of  parcels  like  those  which  were  being  received  outside. 
Light  marching  orders  had  come ;  the  men  must  leave  behind  over 
coats,  blankets,  and  all  surplus  baggage.  Where  should  they  leave 
them  ?  The  government  made  no  provision  for  taking  them  to  the 
rear ;  in  a  few  hours  out  of  all  that  camp  there  would  not  be  even  a 
guard  left.  They  knew  that  the  Christian  Commission  could  do 
almost  anything,  so  they  came  and  asked  if  it  would  not  express 
their  clothing  home  to  their  families.  Gen.  Warren  was  anxious  that 
this  disposition  of  the  articles  might  be  made  if  possible.  So  from 
this  one  station  went  over  $40,000  worth  of  clothing.  Remarking  to 
one  of  the  men  who  was  waiting  his  turn,  that  I  didn't  hear  as  much 
swearing  as  formerly : 

"  No,  Chaplain,"  said  he,  "  there  ain't  half  the  cussin'  there  was. 
But  if  you  were  down  at  our  camp  when  the  boys  was  packing  up, 
you'd  have  heard  a  power  of  God  blessin'  the  Christian  Commission 
for  this  here  job." 


1  At  City  Point  Hospital,  during  March  and  part  of  April,  3204  packages  of 
various  kinds  were  thus  forwarded.     At  a  station  in  the  Fifth  Corps,  the  value 
of  the  clothing  committed  to  the  Commission  was  nearly  $90,000.    This  property 
would  have  been  almost  certainly  a  dead  loss  to  the  men,  if  it  had  not  been  thus 
collected  ere  their  march  began. 

2  "  Quinnipiac"  was  the  old  Indian  name  of  New  Haven,  Conn.     The  chapel 
was  purchased  with  funds  from  friends  of  the  Commission  in  that  city. 


308  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  value  of  the  work  of  temporal  relief  was  most 
obvious  during  the  hot  months  of  1864,  among  the  men 
iti  the  trenches.  Not  only  was  there  great  liability  to 
casualty  here,  but  the  extraordinary  hardships  brought 
on  sickness.  The  dreary  sameness  of  the  service  also 
did  much  to  dispirit  the  troops  assigned  to  it.  The 
Commission  labored  hard  to  supply  the  men  with  proper 
diet, — especially  fresh  vegetables,  and  took  care  of  very 
many  wounded.  The  materials  for  letter  writing  were 
distributed  extensively. 

«/ 

The  graphic  narrative  of  "  Carleton,"1  concerning 
this  work  at  the  extreme  front,  presents  a  fair  picture 

of  what  was  to  be  done  and  how  it  was  done  : 

• 

The  day  was  hot,  dry,  dusty  and  sultry.  The  sun  shone  from  a 
brazen  sky.  The  grass  and  shrubs  were  scorched  and  withered  and 
powdered  with  the  dust,  which  rose  in  clouds  from  every  passing 
wagon.  There  was  not  air  enough  to  stir  the  aspens, 
or  shake  the  long,  lithe  spires  of  the  pines.  The 
birds  of  the  forest  sought  the  deepest  shade,  and  lolled  and  panted 
in  the  heat.  It  was  hard  even  for  men  in  robust  health  to  breathe. 
They  picked  out  the  coolest  places  and  gave  themselves  up  to  the 
languor  of  the  hour.  It  required  an  earnest  effort  to  do  anything. 
And  yet  through  this  blazing  day  men  sat  crouched  in  the  trenches 
from  morning  till  night,  or  lay  in  their  shallow  rifle  pits,  watching 
the  enemy,  parched,  broiled,  burned,  not  daring  to  raise  their  heads 
or  lift  their  hands.  To  do  so  was  death. 

The  hospital  tents,  though  pitched  in  the  woods,  were  like  ovens, 
absorbing  and  holding  the  heat  poured  from  a  cloudless  sky.  Then, 
upon  the  ground  lay  the  sick  and  wounded,  fevered  and  sore,  with 
life  at  ebb  tide,  with  energies  exhausted,  perspiration  oozing  from  the 
faces,  nerves  quivering  and  trembling  with  fever,  pulses  faint  and 
feeble.  Their  beds  were  boughs  of  pine.  They  lay  as  they  came 


1  In  a  letter  to  the  Congregationalist,  July  29th,  18C4. 


AT    THE    FROXT.  3l)9 

from  the  battle-field,  wearing  their  soiled,  torn  and  bloody  garments 
of  army  blue.  Millions  of  flies  buzzed  around. 

The  Surgeons  in  charge  were  kind-hearted  and  attentive.  They 
used  all  means  in  their  power  to  make  the  patients  comfortable. 
This  was  the  place  where  the  sick  were  to  regain  health,  or  from 
which  they  were  to  be  removed  to  the  General  Hospital.  They  were 
far  from  home  and  friends.  There  was  nothing  to  cheer  them — 
nothing  to  stimulate.  Hope  was  dying  out,  and  despondency  setting 
in,  with  memory  summoning  the  dear  old  times,  and  revealing  by 
contrast  a  dark  and  gloomy  future. 

It  was  the  Sabbath  day,  and  there  were  many  among  the  suffering 
hundreds  who  had  reverenced  the  day  at  home.  It  was  a  day  of  rest 
— of  cessation  from  toil  and  care.  Its  return  recalled  their  former 
Sabbaths — the  still  hours,  the  pealing  of  church  bells,  the  grand  and 
solemn  music  of  the  organ,  or  the  hum  of  children's  voices  in  the 
Sabbath-school.  Is  it  a  wonder  that  they  had  longings  for  home, 
or  that  the  future  was  gloomy  ? 

The  day  was  wearing  away.  There  was  no  cloud  curtain  in  the 
sky  to  shut  out  the  sun,  but  the  brazen  dome  glowed  with  steady 
heat.  The  Christian  Commission  tent  had  been  besieged  all  day  by 
parched  and  fevered  soldiers,  who  wanted  onions,  pickles,  lemons, 
oranges — anything  sour — anything  to  tempt  the  taste.  There  was  a 
box  of  oranges  which  had  been  brought  from  City  Point  the  night 
before.  It  was  suggested  that  they  be  distributed  at  once  to  the 
sick  and  wounded.  "  Certainly,  by  all  means,"  was  the  unanimous 
voice  of  the  Commission.  I  volunteered  to  be  the  distributor. 

Go  with  me  through  the  tents  where  the  sufferers  are.  Some  are 
lying  down,  with  closed  eyes,  with  pale  faces  and  sunken  cheeks. 
The  paleness  underlies  the  bronze  which  the  sun  has  cast  upon  them. 
They  breathe  languidly.  Some  are  half  reclined,  leaning  on  their 
elbows,  bolstered  by  their  knapsacks,  looking  into  vacancy — seeing, 
perhaps,  the  old  home,  and  wondering  if  they  will  ever  again  cross 
its  threshold.  Some  are  reading  the  papers  which  the  Delegates  of 
the  Commission  have  distributed.  There  are  some  who  have  but 
one  leg.  There  is  the  stump  of  a  thigh,  or  an  arm,  with  the  lightest 
possible  dressing  to  keep  down  the  fever.  Yesterday  those  men  stood 
in  the  trenches  confronting  the  enemy,  in  the  full  tide  of  life.  Now 


310  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

they  are  wrecks,  flouting  out  into  the  unknown  future,  with  wife  and 
children,  or  parents  dependent  on  them. 

As  we  enter  the  tent  they  catch  a  sight  of  the  golden  fruit.  There 
is  a  coin  motion.  Those  half  asleep  rub  their  eyes.  Those  half  re 
clining  sit  up  straight.  Those  lying  with  their  backs  towards  us  turn 
over  to  see  what  is  going  on.  Those  so  feeble  that 
they  cannot  turn  ask  what  is  the  matter.  They  gaze 
at  the  apples  of  Paradise.  How  their  eyes  gleam  !  Not  one  of  them 
asks  for  an  orange !  They  wait.  Through  military  discipline, 
through  unparalleled  suffering,  they  have  learned  to  be  patient — to 
wait — to  endure — to  remain  in  suspense — to  stand  still  and  be  torn 
to  pieces  !  They  are  heroes  ! 

"  Would  you  like  an  orange,  sir?" 

"  Thank  you." 

It  is  all  he  can  say.  He  is  lying  upon  his  back.  A  miuie  bullet 
has  passed  through  his  body,  and  he  cannot  be  moved.  He  has  a 
noble  brow — a  manly  countenance.  Tears  moisten  his  eyes  and  roll 
down  his  sunken  cheeks,  as  he  takes  the  orange  from  my  hand: 

"  It  is  a  gift  of  the  Christian  Commission,  and  I  accept  your  thanks 
for  those  who  made  the  contribution." 

'•  Bully  for  the  Christian  Commission  !"  shouted  a  wide-awake,  jolly 
soldier  near  by,  with  an  ugly  wound  in  his  left  arm. 

"Thank  you,"  "  God  bless  the  Commission,"  "  I  say,  Bill,  arn't 
they  bully?"  are  the  expressions  which  I  hear  behind  me. 

In  one  of  the  wards  I  came  upon  a  soldier  who  had  lost  his  leg: 
the  day  before.  He  was  lying  upon  his  side.  He  was  robust,  healthy, 
strong  and  brave.  The  hours  dragged  heavily.  He  did  not  see  me 
till  I  stood  before  him — and  not  even  then.  He  was  stabbing  his 
knife  into  a  chip  with  a  nervous  energy,  as  if  he  was  in  imagination 
bayoneting  a  Rebel — trying  to  forget  the  pain — trying  to  bridge  over 
the  lonely  hours  and  shut  the  gloom  out  of  the  future.  I  touched  his 
elbow.  He  looked  up: 

"  Would  you  like  an  orange?" 

"By  jingo!  that  is  worth  a  hundred  dollars!" 

He  grasped  it  as  a  drowning  man  clutches  a  chip,  as  if  to  lose  a 
thousandth  part  of  a  second  he  would  miss  the  prize. 

"  Where  did  this  come  from  ?" 

"The  Christian  Commission  had  a  box  arrive  last  night." 


'  THAT'S   WORTH   A   HUNDRED   DOLLARS." 


310. 


AT    THE    FRONT.  311 

"  The  Christian  Commission  ?  My  wife  belongs  to  that.  She 
wrote  to  me  about  it  last  week,  that  they  met  to  make  shirts  for  it." 

"  Then  you  have  a  wife  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  three  children." 

His  voice  faltered.  Ah  !  the  soldier  never  forgets  his  home.  He 
dashed  away  a  tear,  took  in  a  long  breath,  and  was  strong  again. 

"Where  do  you  hail  from,  soldier?" 

"  From  old  Massachusetts.  I  had  a  snug  little  home  upon  the 
banks  of  the  Connecticut,  but  I  told  my  wife  that  I  didn't  feel  just 
right  to  stay  there  when  I  was  needed  out  here,  and  so  I  came,  and 
here  I  am.  I  shall  write  home  and  tell  Mary  about  the  Christian 
Commission.  I  have  been  wishing  all  day  that  I  had  an  orange  ;  I 
knew  it  was  no  use  to  wish.  I  didn't  suppose  there  was  one  in  camp; 
besides,  here  I  am,  not  able  to  move  a  peg.  I  thank  you,  sir,  for 
bringing  it.  I  shall  tell  my  wife  all  about  it." 

It  was  worth  a  hundred  dollars  to  see  him  suck  the  juice  —  every 
drop,  as  if  it  was  as  precious  as  life  itself.  But  enough.  It  was  one 
of  the  happiest  hours  of  my  life  —  that  passed  in  the  distribution  of 
those  oranges  —  not  that  I  was  the  almoner,  but  because  of  the  exhi 
bition  of  spontaneous,  unmixed,  heartfelt  gratitude,  not  towards  me, 
but  to  the  friends  far  away. 

Another  narrative,  from  the  pen  of  Delegate  C.  H. 
Richards,1  continues  the  story  of  the  same  work: 

We  pass  by  regiments  and  batteries,  by  sentinels  who  look  curi 
ously  at  us,  by  the  headquarters  of  officers  of  all  grades  and  ranks, 
through  field  and  grove,  till  we  come  to  the  covered  wagon-road  lead 

ing  to  the  outer  lines.     Through  this  passage-wav, 

.  .  Getting  to  the 

which  was  channeled  out  that  ammunition  and  sup-       ^ 

plies  might  be  safely  taken  to  the  batteries  in  front, 
we  may  pass  without  risk  of  life  or  limb.  Following  the  devious 
windings,  we  find  ourselves  suddenly  in  a  fort  or  earthwork,  made  of 
gabions  and  fascines,  strengthened  and  cemented  by  an  abundance 
of  the  "  sacred  soil,"  while  numerous  sand-bags  crown  the  parapet. 
If  you  will  look  out  through  this  embrasure  you  will  see  that  we  have 


1  Of  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  Mass.     The  narrative  is  from  letters  pub 
lished  in  the  Sunday  School  Times. 


312  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

no  further  to  go.  For  just  beyond  are  our  abattis,  and  then  a  thin 
picket  line,  and  then  the  disputed  territory  into  which  a  man  may 
not  advance  a  rod  without  paying  dearly  for  it.  But  somebody  is 
plucking  you  by  the  sleeve.  Looking  round,  you  find  that  several 
soldiers  have  gathered  about  you  : 

"  Can  you  spare  me  one  of  those  papers  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  can,  my  good  fellow ;  I  brought  them  down  on  pur 
pose  for  you." 

.  "  And  I  should  like  one  too,"  says  another.    "And 

Reading.  "'  L"      "Alld  I>"  echo  a11  the  rest- 

By  this  time  they  have  discovered  to  the  right  and 
left  of  you  along  the  lines  that  something  is  going  on  up  in  the  fort. 
They  look,  and  wonder  what  it  can  be. 

"I  guess  it's  the  Christian  Commission  man/'  says  one,  and 
straightway  they  begin  to  troop  towards  us.  They  cluster  about  us 
like  bees  about  a  honey  pot.  Their  faces  are  eager,  and  their  hands 
are  stretched  out  towards  you  like  a  unanimous  vote  of  welcome : 

"  Something  good  to  read?  Well,  that's  just  what  we  want !  I'll 
take  a  paper  if  you  can  spare  it." 

"  There's  the  dear  old  Messenger  !    That  looks  like  home.    I'd  like 
one  of  those." 
."A  Flag  paper  for  me."  says  another. 

"  Can  you  give  me  a  Baptist  paper  ?  I  used  to  be  a  Baptist  when 
I  was  at  home,"  says  a  gray-headed  man,  looking  at  the  Examiner 
through  his  iron-bound  spectacles. 

"  I'll  take  one  of  those  Methodists"  says  another. 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  what  kind  you  give  me,  provided  I  can  only 
get  something  good  to  read,"  responded  still  another.  And  so  they 
clamor  pleasantly  about  you,  and  stretch  out  their  hands  so  eagerly 
for  your  papers  and  little  books,  that  you  are  almost  bewildered  in 
your  endeavors  to  satisfy  them  all.  The  men  are  hungry,  positively 
hungry,  for  reading.  We  make  our  way  gradually  to  the  edge  of 
the  group,  sending  out  a  word  of  cheer  and  encouragement  here 
and  there,  thinking  to  pass  further  down  the  lines,  towards  the 
Ninth  Corps.  But  before  we  are  fairly  out  of  the  circle,  a  soldier 
says — 

"You  haven't  got  a  Testament  to  give  away,  have  you  ?  I  lost 
mine  in  the  fight  at  Cold  Harbor,  and  I  haven't  had  one  since.  I 


IJST    THE    TttENCHES.  313 

can't  stand  it  much  longer  without  one,  for  a  soldier  ain't  more  than 
half  equipped  without  a  Testament." 

"  Of  course  you  shall  have  one,  my  dear  sir,  and  may  God  help 
you  to  live  by  its  teachings." 

"I  should  like  one,  too;  mine  was  lost  at  Spottsylvania,"  says 
another. 

"  One  for  me,  too,"  echoes  a  third,  till  half  of  them  are  crowding 
about  again,  all  wanting  Testaments.  Perhaps  my  experience  is  un 
usual,  but  it  is  noteworthy  that  I  have  hardly  ever  met  a  private 
soldier  in  the  army,  whatever  his  character  might  be,  who,  if  he  had 
no  Testament,  did  not  want  one.  It  is  a  striking  evidence  of  the 
strength  of  religious  conviction,  even  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  are 
apparently  thoughtless  and  careless  about  their  most  important 
interests,  and  is  another  proof  that  the  deepest  instincts  of  man's 
nature  crave  comfort  and  strength  from  above. 

Once  more  we  make  an  attempt  to  pass  down  the  lines,  when  we 
are  again  arrested  by  a  voice : 

"  Chaplain,  have  you  any  letter  paper  and  envelopes  ?  I  haven't 
been  able  to  write  home  for  a  long  time,  because  I  haven't  had  any 
thing  to  write  with.  If  you  could  only  give  me  a  little,  they  will 
bless  you  for  it  up  there." 

"  Here  it  is,  and  now  write  a  good,  sweet  letter  to 
the  wife  and  little  ones." 

"  That's  what  I'll  do,"  he  says,  and  his  eyes  grow  misty  as  he  takes 
it  gratefully.  Again  the  crowd  gathers  around  us,  and  every  one 
must  have  a  sheet  of  paper  and  an  envelope.  We  are  linking  the 
chain  that  binds  the  soldier  to  his  home. 

Again  we  start,  and  this  time  we  are  fairly  off.  We  must  stoop 
low  and  walk  cautiously  now,  or  we  shall  get  a  headache  from  over 
the  way.  There  are  not  so  many  men  to  be  seen  as  in  the  fort  yon 
der,  and  those  that  we  see  are  snugly  ensconced  in  little  pits,  which 
they  have  scooped  out  for  themselves,  and  from  which  it  would  not 
be  safe  to  venture  far.  A  head  or  a  hand  exposed  above  the  ram 
parts  here  is  a  mark  for  a  dozen  sharpshooters  in  the  works  opposite. 
They  cannot  well  flock  to  us,  but  we  will  creep  carefully  to  them. 
Here  is  a  good-natured-looking  boy  beckoning  for  a  paper.  Of  course 
he  gets  it.  "Zip"  goes  a  minie  ball  over  our  heads,  and  buries  itself 
with  a  "  thug"  in  a  bank  near  by. 


314  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Chaplain,"  says  the  soldier,  "  did  you  ever  play  a  game  of  base 
ball  when  you  were  a  boy  ?" 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure  ;  but  what  of  that  ?" 

"  Well,  you  know  when  you  catch  the  ball,  then 
Playing  Base  ,       .      *  ^          ,  ,  „    ,          „,, 

*  you  re  in.    But  when  you  catch  one  01  these  fellows, 

you're  out"  and  he  smiled  at  his  own  grim  joke.  But 
such  a  joke  serves  a  good  purpose  as  a  text  to  preach  from.  He 
readily  tells  us  of  the  deaths  that  occur  here  day  after  day,  of  the 
friends  and  messmates  he  has  lost  while  he  has  escaped  their  fate,  of 
the  peril  he  daily  passes  through.  He  tells  you  frankly,  of  the 
solemn  thoughts  of  death  and  eternity  that  fill  his  mind  in  these 
scenes,  of  the  need  he  feels  of  having  some  firm,  sure  hope  on  which 
to  rely,  of  the  longing  he  has  felt  to  be  a  Christian.  And  then  how 
precious  is  the  privilege,  and  how  easy  and  delightful  the  task  to 
direct  him  to  the  Saviour,  who  is  reaching  out  His  arms  of  welcome 
to  him. 

It  is  hard  to  select  the  few  incidents  which  must  serve 
as  representatives  of  the  soldier's  courage  and  sacrifice 
during  the  period  covered  by  the  chapter.  Rev.  Geo. 
Duffield,  Jr.,1  a  Delegate  during  June  and  July,  1864, 
tells  the  following : 

W.  F.  Clark,  a  private  in  Kautz's  Cavalry  Brigade,  was  taken 
prisoner,  with  two  others,  on  July  2d.  While  the  Rebels  were 
scouring  the  woods  for  other  prisoners,  the  guards  who  had  Clark  and 

his  companions  in  charge,  without  a  word  of  previ- 
"  Not  much  in  the  ,  .  . 

Rebels'  Debt "         ous  exP^anatlonJ  ordered  them  to  march  in  trout  or 

them.  They  blew  out  the  brains  of  the  first  one; 
then  of  the  second  ;  and  then  poured  a  volley  into  Clark,  leaving 
him  as  good  as  dead,  with  one  bullet  and  nine  buckshot  in  him.  He 
remained  where  he  fell  until  about  four  o'clock  the  next  morning, 
when,  coming  to  himself,  his  first  thought  was  of  a  stream  of  water 
he  had  passed  on  the  other  side  of  the  field.  Crawling  as  best  he 
could  to  the  stream,  he  rolled  into  it  to  conceal  himself,  covering  every 


1  See   p.  180.      The  two  incidents  were  originally  published  in  the  Detroit 
Advertiser  and  Tribune. 


TWO    HEROES.  315 

part  of  him  but  his  nostrils  when  he  heard  any  one  approaching. 
That  night  a  poor  old  worn-out  horse  came  down  to  the  stream  to  get 
a  drink.  By  this  time  having  rallied  a  little  strength*he  got  up  and 
caught  the  horse,  made  a  bridle  for  him  out  of  a  pair  of  suspenders, 
and  in  that  condition  rode  eight  miles  before  daylight  into  our  lines. 
There  they  put  him  into  an  ambulance  and  brought  him  to  the  Post 
Hospital  at  Bermuda  Hundred,  where  Dr.  Spees,  of  Dayton,  Ohio, 
and  I,  saw  him  and  heard  his  story  from  his  own  lips.  When  I  last 
saw  him,  seven  of  the  shot  had  been  extracted;  the  three  others  he 
did  not  think  would  give  him  much  trouble.  He  had  no  idea,  he 
said,  of  dying  after  being  shot  in  such  a  mean  way.  He  wasn't  much 
in  the  Rebels'  debt,  anyhow,  and  once  he  was  able  to  get  on  his  horse 
again,  he  would  soon  wipe  out  old  scores. 

On  the  steamboat  from  Detroit  to  Cleveland,  I  noticed  an  officer 
whose  straps  indicated  him  to  be  a  Colonel.1  Evidently  he  was  suf 
fering  from  a  severe  wound,  but  of  its  nature  I  had  little  conception 

until  I  met  him  a  second  time,  on  the  steamer  going 

-,  ,1-0  -!,!•  .    i         •  ^          />  The  Shortened 

down  the  rotomac,  and  at  his  request,  by  virtue  01     T 

Leave  of  Absence. 
my  Christian  Commission  badge,  dressed  it  for  him. 

It  was  received  in  one  of  the  battles  of  the  Wilderness.  The  ball 
striking  hifh  sideways,  had  entered  and  passed  through  the  neck  and 
shoulder,  carrying  away  some  very  decided  splinters  from  the  verte 
bral  column.  At  first  the  shock  was  so  great  that  he  was  completely 
paralyzed — and  when  he  received  his  leave,  it  was  with  very  little 
hope  of  ever  again  being  able  to  return  to  the  field.  But  the  ner 
vous  shock  proved  only  temporary  ;  his  vigorous  constitution  speedily 
began  to  rally,  and  his  heart  to  fret  at  the  thought  of  his  men  not 
having  any  officer  higher  than  Second  Lieutenant  (if  I  remember 
rightly)  to  look  after  them,  and  care  for  their  wants.  He  thought  he 
could  more  easily  bear  the  pain  and  distress  of  the  wound  on  the 
field  than  the  worry  at  home  about  his  men,  and  so  off  he  started  to 
the  front,  where  the  weather  was  the  hottest,  with  a  leave  of  absence 
of  thirty  days  in  his  pocket,  and  a  wound  that  was  good  on  presenta 
tion  to  a  Surgeon  for  thirty  days  more. 

Rev.  E.  F.  Williams  tells  an  incident  of  the  attack 
upon  the  Weldon  road  in  October : 


1  Col.  Pulford,  commanding  the  5th  Michigan  Kegiinent. 


316  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

All  the  officers  of  a  company  engaged  in  the  fighting  hud  been 
either  killed  or  wounded.  The  Sergeant,  upon  whom  devolved  the 
command,  was'irightened,  and  the  line  began  to  waver.  A  Corporal 

instantly  snatched  the  colors,  stepped  to  the   front 
Promoted    to  .  T,   .       .. 

£.  and   led  the  men  to  victory.     A  Brigadier  near  by 

noticed  the  occurrence  and  sent  for  the  Corporal 
after  the  fight,  to  learn  his  name, — much  to  the  brave  man's  dis 
composure,  for  he  was  afraid  he  had  somehow  subjected  himself  to 
military  discipline.  The  officer  took  him  to  the  Major-Gen  era!  com 
manding  the  Corps,  and  related  the  circumstances,  the  poor  Corporal 
meanwhile  wishing  himself  well  out  of  the  scrape.  After  a  little 
private  conference,  the  two  Generals  came  forward  and  pinned  a 
Captain's  straps  upon  the  Corporal's  shoulders,  sending  him  back  to 
command  the  company.  Before  night  there  was  another  charge 
upon  the  enemy's  position  :  the  newly-made  Captain,  while  gallantly 
leading  his  men,  was  shot  through  the  heart. 

Rev.  J.  II.  Knowles1  was  just  leaving  the  army  before 
Petersburg  in  June,  1864,  at  the  close  of  his  term  of 
service,  when  this  incident  occurred : 

A  soldier  had  been  brought  in  on  a  stretcher  and  placed  under  the 
shade  of  a  green  tree.  He  was  shot  through  the  mouth  ;  his  tongue 
was  cut  and  he  could  not  speak ;  the  Surgeon  said  he  must  die.  On 

a  card  he  wrote  his  desire  to  see  a  Delegate  of  the 
"  Ratty  Round       /-,,..       ~ 

the  Flag  Roys "      ^nristian  Commission ;  they  summoned  me.    As  I  ap 
proached  him,  he  again  made  signs  for  pencil  and 
paper  and  wrote — 

"  I  am  a  Christian,  prepared  to  die  ;"  then  after  looking  about  him 
upon  the  soldiers  near,  he  added  another  line: 

"  Rally  round  the  flag,  boys,  rally  round  the  flag." 
I  took  the  paper,  and  with  such  composure  as  I  could  command, 
read  it  aloud  to  his  comrades.  As  I  read,  the  dying  man,  speaking 
only  with  his  animated  face,  raised  his  bloody  hand  over  his  head 
and  waved  it,  as  Marmion  shook  his  sword,  with  all  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  charge ;  and  then  quietly,  while  every  eye  brimmed  with 


1  Member  of  Genesee  Conference,  Meth.  Epis.  Church 


CITY    POINT.  317 

quickly-gathered  tears,  went  away  out  of  the  midst  of  the  company 
into  the  City  of  Peace. 

Rev.  F.  P.  Monfort  writes  from  City  Point  Hospital 
in  June : 

Daniel  McKenua,  an  Indian  chief  of  the  Atawa  tribe,  from  Bear 
Creek,  Mich.,  a  sharpshooter  of  the  1st  Mich.  Kegiment,  lay  in  one 
of  our  wards  mortally  wounded.     While  life  was  ebbing  away,   I 
questioned    him  through  an    interpreter,  but   could 
get  no  reply  till  I  inquired  if  he  had  ever  seen  a  The    j)ying 

missionary.      At    this    he    opened     his    eyes,   and      Indian  Chief. 
smilingly  nodded  assent,  saying  in  his  broken  way — 

"  Mishnare — mishnare — umph — good." 

He  seldom  spoke  or  noticed  anything,  but  now  he  seemed  to  be 
pleased,  and  roused  up : 

"Ask  him,"  said  I,  "if  he  likes  the  missionaries?" 

The  interpreter  did  so,  and  communicated  the  reply : 

"  He  says,  '  Yes,  he  likes  them  first-rate;  they  are  very  good  men  ; 
they  teach  schools  and  preach.  I  am  the  chief,  and  I  am  the  man 
that  sees  to  the  house,  and  makes  the  appointments  for  them.' " 

"  Does  he  know  Jesus  Christ  is  a  Saviour  ?" 

"  He  says  '  Yes  ;  Jesus  Christ  is  his  Saviour.'" 

"  Does  he  love  Christ?" 

"  He  says  '  Yes,  he  loves  Him  with  all  his  heart.' " 

"  Does  he  ever  pray  ?" 

"  Yes,  he  has  been  praying  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ  ever  since 
he  was  wounded." 

"Ask  him  if  he  is  prepared  to  die?" 

"  He  says  'Yes,  if  God  calls  him  to  heaven  he  will  go  with  Him 
over  there.' " 

"  Carleton"1  tells  the  story  of  the  last  hours  of  Ed 
ward  M.  Schneider,2  of  the  57th  Mass. : 

He  was  slightly  wounded  on  the  North  Anna,  and  was  sent  to 


1  In  a  letter  to  the  Boston  Journal,  in  June. 

*  Son  of  Kev.  Dr.  Benjamin  Schneider,  Missionary  of  the  American  Board  at 
Aintab,  Central  Turkey. 


318  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Port  Royal  for  transportation  to  Washington,  but,  of  his  own  accord, 
returned  to  his  regiment,  joining  it  at  Cold   Harbor.     While  prepar 
ing  for  the  charge  upon  the  enemy's  works  on  the 
"Stand  by  the      ^-^    beyond  the  j)uun  House,  he  said  to  the  Chap- 
Flag     and     the 
QrQ8S  „  lam,  "  1  intend  to   be  the  first  one  to  enter   their 

works." 

The  charge  was  made.  How  grandly  they  moved  through  the  woods! 
How  quickly  they  swept  up  to  the  Rebel  line  of  defensive  works,  like 
an  ocean  billow  upon  a  breakwater,  rolling  over  it,  engulfing  all  be 
yond  !  The  brave  young  soldier  tried  to  make  good  his  words. 
With  eager  feet  he  led  the  advance,  breaking  out  from  the  line  and 
keeping  a  rod  or  two  in  front. 

He  was  almost  there — not  quite — almost  near  enough  to  feel  the 
hot  flash  of  the  Rebel  musketry  in  his  face — near  enough  to  be  cov 
ered  with  the  sulphurous  cloud  from  the  cannon — when  he  fell,  shot 
through  the  body. 

He  was  carried  to  the  hospital,  with  six  hundred  and  fifty  of  his 
division  comrades.  He  lay  all  night  with  his  wounds  undressed, 
waiting  his  turn.  There  was  not  a  murmur  from  his  lips.  The 
Chaplain  looked  at  his  wround  : 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

Seeing  that  it  was  mortal,  he  could  not  articulate  a  reply ;  neither 
could  he  restrain  his  tears.  He  remembered  the  last  injunction  of 
the  young  soldier's  older  sister — "  I  commit  him  to  your  care."  The 
young  hero  interpreted  the  meaning  of  the  tear — that  his  wound  was 
mortal. 

"  Do  not  weep,"  he  said ;  "  it  is  God's  will.  I  wish  you  to  write  to 
my  father  and  tell  him  that  I  have  tried  to  do  my  duty  to  my  country 
and  to  God." 

He  disposed  of  his  effects,  giving  810  to  the  Christian  Commission, 
$20  to  the  American  Board,  and  trifles  to  his  friends.  Then,  in  the 
simplicity  of  his  heart,  he  said — 

"  I  have  a  good  many  friends,  schoolmates  and  companions.  They 
will  want  to  know  where  I  am — how  I  am  getting  on.  You  can  let 
them  know  I  am  gone,  and  that  I  die  content.  And,  Chaplain,  the 
boys  in  the  regiment — I  want  you  to  tell  them  to  stand  by  the  dear  old 
flag  !  And  there  is  my  brother  in  the  navy — write  to  him  and  tell 
him  to  stand  by  the  flag  and  ding  to  the  cross  of  Christ!" 


CITY    POINT.  319 

The  Surgeon  came  and  examined  the  wound. 

"  It  is  my  duty  to  tell  you  that  you  will  soon  go  home,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  Doctor,  I  am  going  home.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die.  I  don't 
know  how  the  valley  will  be  when  I  get  to  it,  but  it  is  all  bright 
now."  Then  gathering  up  his  waning  strength,  he  repeated  the  verse 
often  sung  by  the  soldiers,  who,  amid  all  the  whirl  and  excitement 
of  the  camp  and  battle-field,  never  forget  those  whom  they  have  left 
behind  them  —  mother,  sister,  father,  brother.  Calmly,  clearly,  dis 
tinctly,  he  repeated  the  lines,  —  the  chorus  of  the  song  — 

"  Soon  with  angels  I'll  be  marching, 
With  bright  laurels  on  my  brow  ; 
I  have  for  my  country  fallen  : 
Who  will  care  for  sister  now  ?" 

The  night  wore  away.  Death  came  on  apace.  He  suffered  intense 
pain,  but  not  a  murmur  escaped  his  lips.  Sabbath  morning  came, 
and  with  the  coming  of  the  light  he  passed  away. 

From  a  public  address  by  Eev.  Kobt.  J.  Parvin  we 
take  an  incident  illustrating  the  Christian  loyalty  and 
sacrifice  which  could  fill  a  mother's  heart  when  she 
heard  of  the  death  of  her  only  son  : 

In  June,  while  the  stores  were  being  opened  at  our  base  of  sup 
plies,  City  Point,  a  small  square  box  was  found  to  contain  such  a 
variety  of  very  nice  delicacies  that  I  inferred  they  were  not  intended 

for  general  distribution.    My  suspicion  was  confirmed 

A      Mothers 
when  we  reached  the  bottom  and  found  that  the  box 


had  been  opened  at  the  wrong  end.     Pinned  on  the 
top  of  a  large  cake  was  a  note  — 

"  If  any  one  opens  this  box,  except  the  person  it  is  intended  for, 
will  they  please  regard  the  wish  and  anxiety  of  a  mother,  who  greatly 
desires  to  comfort  and  help  her  dear  child,  and  close  it  again,  and 
send  it  to  him  if  possible  ?  She  has  done  a  great  deal  for  others 
during  the  war  ;  she  wants  also  to  relieve  her  own  son.  His  address 
is  Maj.  C.  E.  P  --  ,  118th  N.  Y.  Regt.,  2d  Brig.,  1st  Div.,  Eighteenth 
Corps." 

Grieved  at  our  mistake,  I  undertook  to  remedy  it  as  well  as  I 


320  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

could.  Carefully  returning  the  articles  to  the  box,  I  wrote  to  Major 

P ,  telling  him  where  to  send  for  it.  In  the  course  of  an  hour, 

the  messenger  returned  with  the  Chaplain  of  the  118th,  who,  on 
entering  the  tent,  said — 

"  Major  P—  -  was  shot  dead  at  the  head  of  his  regiment  a  few 
days  ago." 

The  date  of  his  death  was  that  of  his  mother's  letter.  The  con 
tents  of  the  box  were  handed  to  the  Chaplain.  I  wrote  to  Mrs. 

P ,  stating  the  sad  intelligence,  telling  about  the  box,  and  asking 

permission  to  retain  the  letter  written  to  her  son.  Here  are  some  of 
the  words  of  it : 

"  I.  have  always,  as  you  know,  my  dear  son,  felt  that  you  were  in 
the  right  place,  and  been  thankful  that  you  felt  it  your  duty  to  serve 
your  country ;  but,  I  confess,  my  patriotism  is  sometimes  scarcely 
equal  to  this  long — long  trial.  Your  danger  is  now  quite  as  great 
from  another  source  as  from  the  war.  O  Charley  dear,  seek  God's 
counsel,  and  if  He  makes  you  feel  it  duty  to  remain,  then  He  will 
take  care  of  you,  or  prepare  you  for  His  will." 

Within  a  few  days  came  the  mother's  answer  to  my  letter,  grant 
ing  my  wish  to  keep  the  communication  found  in  the  box,  and 
breathing  throughout  a  spirit  of  noblest  Christian  herois 


ism : 


"A ,  July  8th,  1864. 

"  REV.  EGBERT  J.  PARVIN  :  DEAR  SIR  :— Your  kind  letter  is  re 
ceived,  and  opens  anew  the  floodgates  of  a  sorrow  so  deep  that  only 
He  who  permitted  it  to  fall  can  give  me  strength  and  composure  to 
reply.  *  *  I  had  come,  almost  insensibly  to  myself,  to  feel  a 

sort  of  security  that  God  would  not  take  my  precious  child  from  me, 
but  would  permit  him  to  return  and  be  my  staff  and  comfort  in  the 
later  days  of  my  weary  pilgrimage.  But  Infinite  Wisdom  saw  that 
this  was  not  best,  either  for  him  or  his  mother.  God  had  prepared 
some  better  thing  for  him  than  the  comforts  and  luxuries  and  affec 
tions  of  our  earthly  home.  '  Even  so,  Father,  for  thus  it  seemeth 
good  in  Thy  sight.'  *  *  *  *  * 

"  I  had  sent  a  box  previously,  which,  owing  to  purely  providential 
circumstances,  was  lost  in  the  multitude.  Then  I  thought,  God  will 
use  that  to  comfort  some  other  poor  sufferer,  and  has  intended  it  as  a 
test  of  my  trust  in  Him.  So  I  prepared  and  sent  a  second,  to  prove 


CITY    POINT.  321 

to  my  own  heart  that  I  would  trust,  though  God  did  see  fit  to  disap 
point  me.  That  second  box  was  sent  the  day  after  my  darling  child 
passed  away  into  eternity.  *  *  And,  now,  what  can  I  say  to 
this  ?  Is  God  untrue,  and  is  my  faith  vain,  and  shall  I  cease  to  trust 
Him  ?  Oh,  blessed  be  His  name.  He  does  not  permit  my  mind  to 
indulge  such  thoughts !  No,  though  the  clouds  that  gather  around 
Him  be  as  dark  as  midnight, — though  not  one  ray  of  light  can  be 
seen,  I  will  cling  to  Him  still,  I  will  trust  Him  yet.  He  is  His  own 
interpreter,  and  in  His  own  time  and  way  will  make  it  all  plain. 
While  He  gives  me  the  confidence  that  my  child  is  safe  in  glory, 
where  he  shall  hunger  no  more,  nor  thirst  any  more,  where  the  sun 
shall  not  light  on  him  nor  any  heat, — I  am  satisfied.  I  will  be  patient; 
and  I  will  now  give  all  that  earnest  desire  I  had  for  the  temporal 
and  spiritual  good  of  my  own  dear  child,  to  all  the  poor  sufferers, 
many  of  whom  have  no  mother  to  bleed  and  labor  for  them.  I  will 
see  a  son  or  a  brother  in  every  noble  defender  of  my  home  and  of  my 
country's  honor.  *****  MARY  P ." 

And  most  thoroughly  was  the  resolve  carried  out. 

Rev.  W.  G.  Taylor,1  writing  in  July,  tells  a  story  of 
Christ's  nearness  to  His  children  : 

I  went  into  a  tent  at  the  General  Hospital,  and  there  lay  a  beau 
tiful  drummer-boy,  sixteen  years  old,  burning  up  with  fever.  I  asked 
him  where  his  home  was : 

"  In  Massachusetts,  sir."  "Jesus       u 

"  Are  you  not  lonely  here,  far  from  father  and      Here." 
mother  and  friends,  and  so  sick?" 

"Oh,  no,"  was  his  answer;  "how  could  I  be  lonely,  when  Jesus 
is  here  ?" 

The  smile  that  lit  his  deep  blue  eye,  and  played  for  a  moment  over 
his  fevered  lips,  as  he  uttered  the  words,  will  never  cease  to  be  the 
sweetest  and  freshest  picture  in  my  memory.  My  companion  asked 
him — 

"  How  long  is  it  since  you  loved  Jesus  ?" 

"  So  long  that  I  cannot  remember  when  I  did  not  love  Him." 


1  Pastor  of  Mount  Carmel  (O.  S.)  Presbyterian  Church,  Penna. 
21 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES. 

FROM  THE   INVESTMENT  OF   PETERSBURG  UNTIL  THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  WAR. 

(Continued.) 

« 

June  1864— April  1865. 

IT  was  the  soldier's  deep  trust  in  God  which  best  pre 
pared  him  for  sacrifice.  Rev.  Abel  Wood1  writes  of 
an  interview  between  Henry  C.  Smith,  8th  Mich.  Regi 
ment,  and  his  Chaplain : 

The  soldier  had  had  his  left  arm  amputated,  but  his  life  could  not 
be  saved.  Towards  evening  of  July  30th  he  sent  for  his  Chaplain 
and  asked  him  to  pray  once  more  with  him.  The  Chaplain  inquired 

as  to  his  trust  in  Jesus.     The  man  answered  clearly 
Dying  that  the       and  eamestl 
Land  might    be 
Riqhteous  "  Have  you  no   home  messages  ?     the   Chaplain 

asked. 

"  No,  that's  all  done." 

"  You  have  been  a  brave  soldier  and  done  your  duty ;  now  if  you 
can  trust  the  Great  Captain  of  your  salvation,  all  is  well." 

"  All  is  well,  Chaplain,"  the  soldier  answered.  Prayer  was  offered, 
after  which  the  two  bade  each  other  farewell. 

A  little  after  midnight,  as  the  Sabbath  began,  the  man  commenced 
praying  in  a  clear,  strong  voice ;  first  fervently  committing  his  own 
soul  to  Christ,  then  offering  a  petition  for  the  President  and  the 
country,  and  finally  asking  that  his  own  death  might  contribute  some 
thing  to  the  establishment  of  a  righteous  peace.  With  this  prayer, 
scarce  escaped  from  his  lips,  he  expired. 


1  Professor  in  Kimball  Union  Academy,  Meriden,  N.  H. 
822 


THE    CHRISTIAN    LIFE.  323 

In  August  Mr.  C.  H.  Richards  relates  an  incident 
which  shows  the  power  for  good  of  a  consistent,  manly 
life  before  God : 

An  interesting  boy  from  one  of  the  Middle  States  joined  the  army 
in  Virginia.  He  soon  fell  in  with  the  most  wicked  man  of  the  regi 
ment,  who  seemed  to  make  it  his  chief  delight  to  lead  the  youth  into 

lower  and  lower  depths  of  vice.     Fascinated  by  his 

Living  it  into 
companion,  the  young  soldier  went  to  such  extremes      ™, 

of  wickedness  as  would  have  shocked  him  beyond 
measure  before  leaving  home.  At  last  his  attention  was  drawn  to  a 
pious  German  in  the  regiment.  He  had  never  spoken  with  him 
about  religion,  but  he  saw  him  constantly  reading  his  Bible  with 
apparent  pleasure ;  he  heard  his  voice  often  in  prayer ;  there  was  a 
cheerfulness  in  his  face,  the  index  of  an  abiding  joy  in  his  heart ;  his 
faithfulness  in  every  duty  was  manifest,  and  his  courage  was  calm 
and  deep  in  the  face  of  danger.  Somehow  he  could  not  keep  from 
watching  the  old  man,  and  believing  that  there  was  a  reality  about 
this  religion,  which  made  the  Christian  the  happiest  man  in  the  regi 
ment.  Each  day  the  new  fascination  grew.  At  length,  after  a  cam 
paign  of  more  than  ordinary  peril,  he  went  to  the  old  German  and 
asked  him  how  it  was  that  he  was  always  so  happy.  He  was  told 
that  trust  in  Christ  was  the  secret,  and  assured  that  if  he  would  but 
give  himself  away  to  Him,  the  same  joy  would  fill  his  soul.  At  once 
deserting  his  profligate  companion,  he  determined  to  follow  the  ad 
vice  of  his  new  friend.  God  gave  him  His  promised  faith  and  joy, 
and  he  too  began  to  live  his  religion  in  his  life ;  so  there  were  two 
lights  in  that  one  regiment,  shining  before  men  ;  others  were  attracted 
as  the  youth  had  been  ;  and  so  the  influence  went  out  and  on,  until 
God  only  can  tell  the  blessed  result.  It  was  not  the  "  tongues  of  men 
or  of  angels"  that  preached  Christ  here,  but  the  devoted  and  sur 
rendered  lives  of  humble  followers  of  Him  who  came  to  do,  not  His 
own  will,  but  the  will  of  the  Father  that  sent  Him. 

On  the  night  of  August  17th  there  had  been  some 
fighting  with  the  Rebel  cavalry  on  the  left.  Some  of 
our  men  were  surrounded  and  had  to  cut  their  way  back 


324  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

with  severe  loss.  Among  tlie  wounded  was  Sergeant 
W.  H.  Boston,  of  St.  Altmis,  Vt.  Rev.  Chas.  L.  Nich 
ols,1  who  ministered  to  him,  writes : 

I  went  through  the  little  flying  hospital,  and  found  one  man  deeply 
anxious  about  a  comrade  whom  he  had  seen  fall  from  his  horse.     I 
went  as  soon  as  I  could  to  the  scene  of  action  to  search  for  the  miss 
ing  soldier,  whose  name  was   Boston.     I  found  that 
Removed  Above.        ,       ,      ,  ,    ,  ,. 

he  had  crawled  a  short  distance  irom  where  he  fell. 

He  was  shot  through  the  lungs,  and  death  was  approaching.  "  Water," 
was  his  first  word.  I  gave  him  a  taste  of  punch,  but  he  wanted 
water  ;  finding  a  cup  lost  by  a  soldier  in  the  fray,  I  gave  him  a  drink. 
When  I  had  washed  his  face  and  wounds  he  desired  me  to  turn  him. 
I  did  so.  He  smiled  and  asked  me  to  sit  down : 

"  Sha'n't  I  go  first  and  get  some  help  to  remove  you  ?" 

He  smiled  again,  and  answered — 

"  Before  you  could  come  back  I  should  be  removed  up  there," 
pointing  upwards  with  his  finger.  He  dictated  a  most  loving  letter 
to  his  wife,  and  another  to  his  mother.  We  talked  a  few  minutes, 
when  he  asked  me  to  raise  him  up.  I  did  so.  Without  a  groan  or 
struggle  he  almost  immediately  passed  away. 

Contrasting  sadly  with  this  triumphant  death-record, 
is  an  incident  related  by  Rev.  Chas.  Cutler:2 

While  I  was  working  at  Cavalry  Hospital,  City  Point,  in  Septem 
ber,  a  young  man  was  brought  in,  who  was  shot  in  the  neck  and  com 
pletely  paralyzed.  I  spoke  to  him  of  preparation  for  death. 

"  I  might  as  well  own  up,"  said  he ;  "  I'm  not  pre- 
Honor    that 
Dishonors  pared  ;  1  ve  lived  a  bad  life  and  been  a  great  trouble 

to  my  mother.  I've  got  no  religion,  and  I  don't  want 
any.  I  won't  burn  out  my  candle  now,  and  throw  the  snuff  in  God 
Almighty's  face.  I'll  die  as  I've  lived.  It's  honester." 

I  argued  with  him,  plead  the  promises,  entreated  him,— but  all  to 
no  purpose  : 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Princeton,  Me. 

2  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Francestown,  N.  H. 


CITY    POINT    HOSPITALS.  325 

"  I  deserve  no  mercy  ;  I  sha'n't  ask  for  any.  I've  never  prayed  ; 
I'm  not  going  to  do  so  now," 

Shortly  he  began  to  recover  the  use  of  his  limbs,  and  it  seemed 
likely  that  he  would  get  better.  But  he  always  turned  away  when  I 
approached,  and  was  unwilling  to  converse.  I  was  obliged  to  leave 
the  army  without  seeing  any  impression  made  upon  him. 

Rev.  Frank  F.  Jewell1  writes  in  October: 

In  one  ward  of  the  General  Hospital  at  City  Point  there  were 
three  conversions.     One  of  these  was  that  of  a  member  of  the  lllth 
N.  Y.,  who,  before  his  entrance  into  the  army,  had  been  a  great  wan 
derer.    Disabled  in  the  Wilderness,  he  was  permitted 
to  go  home  on  a  furlough  of  a  few  weeks.     When          "Who'll  be  my 
about  to  return,  his  little  boy  of  seven  years  caught      Pa?" 
him  by  the  knee,  and  said — 

"  Pa,  when  will  you  come  back?'' 

The  father  replied,  "  I  don't  know,  my  son,  whether  I  shall  ever 
come  back." 

"  Well,"  said  the  child,  "  who  will  be  my  pa  if  you  don't  come 
back?" 

The  question  rooted  itself  in  that  father's  mind  ;  amid  the  excite 
ment  of  battle-scenes  he  had  not  forgotten  the  parting  words  of  his 
little  boy.  And  when  I  came  to  sit  down  by  his  side,  and  urge  him 
to  attend  to  his  salvation,  the  work  seemed  to  be  already  begun.  He 
at  once  made  up  his  mind  to  seek  Christ.  The  next  time  I  met  him, 
he  was  writing  a  letter  to  his  wife,  in  which  he  said  to  her — 

"  I  know  now  how  to  answer  little  Henry's  question.  Tell  him  the 
Saviour  will  be  his  pa,  if  I  don't  come  back." 

Here  is  a  sad  little  picture  of  disappointment,  from 
the  pen  of  Rev.  D.  Hoyt  Blake  :2 

"  George"  was  a  fine- appearing  soldier  from  Jersey  City.  Before 
I  left,  I  was  called  to  accompany  him  to  the  last  resting  place ;  and 
then  into  my  hands  were  put  his  letters  and  two  well-worn  pictures 


'  Pastor  Meth.  Epis.  Church,  Adams,  N.  Y.  2  Of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


326  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

of  his  wife  and  mother.    Looking  over  his  wife's  last 
Georges  Far-      ^        to  ^  ^  address  to  which  to  forward  the 
lough. 

relics,  I  came  upon  these  words — 

"  Willie  and  I,  Mary  and  the  baby,  will  be  standing  at  the  corner 
Of  _  _  street,  looking  for  you,  when  the  cars  come  in.  Do  come 
soon,  George ;  it  does  seem  as  if  I  could  not  wait." 

Poor,  loving,  anxious  one!  What  if  my  letter  with  the  death 
news  should  find  her  waiting  with  Willie  and  Mary  and  baby  at  the 
corner ! 

Mr.  John  Patterson  recalls  an  incident  of  his  expe 
rience  during  several  visits  to  the  hospital  at  Point  of 
Rocks : 

"  Point  of  Kocks"  is  a  very  appropriate  name  for  a  place  on  the 

Appomattox,  a  little  above  Bermuda  Hundred.     For  miles  around 

there  are  no  "  rocks"  worthy  of  the  name ;  but  here  two  or  three 

enormous  boulders  stick  in  the  face  of  a  precipice, 

which  rises  two  or  three  hundred   feet  above  the 

James  Anderson. 

river.  Near  by,  on  the  table  above  the  rocks,  is  a 
famous  oak,  said  to  be  the  very  tree  under  which  Pocahontas  saved 
the  life  of  Captain  Smith.  Far  to  the  south-west  are  the  spires  of 
Petersburg ;  to  the  south-east  is  City  Point ;  to  the  north,  Richmond. 
Three  hundred  yards  from  the  tree  is  the  Military  Hospital,  and  not 
far  off,  the  cheerless  cemetery.  Below,  across  the  sluggish  stream, 
stretches  the  pontoon  bridge,  crowded  at  both  ends  with  soldiers  pass 
ing  from  right  to  left  of  the  grand  army.  There  was  enough  within 
sight  to  meditate  upon ;  more  than  enough  to  make  one  sad,  and  blot 
the  view  on  every  hand  with  gathering  tears. 

It  was  here  I  met  my  soldier-friend,  James  Anderson,  a  youth  of 
twenty  years.  His  eyes  still  retained  more  than  a  memory  of  their 
once  cheerful  glance ;  but  the  fallen  cheeks  and  the  hectic  flush 
marked  a  sure  decline.  There  was  so  much  that  was  manly  and 
beautiful  about  him  that  his  condition  excited  my  deepest  sympathy. 
I  found  him,  one  October  evening,  resting  on  the  grass  by  the  old 
oak,  enjoying  the  cool,  grateful  air  after  the  heat  of  the  day.  The 
sun  was  sinking  into  the  west,  bequeathing  a  glory  as  it  departed  to 
every  exposed  leaf  of  the  sleepy  trees,  to  the  sails  and  masts  and 


POINT    OF    ROCKS.  327 

cordage  of  the  transports  that  lay  upon  the  James,  and  cast  their 
shadowy  arms  far  away  into  the  distance,  where  there  was  no  day. 
The  steamboat  bells  and  the  softened  noise  of  the  whistles  came  to  us 
over  the  long  water-reach  between,  to  mingle  with  the  nearer  music 
of  the  regimental  bands.  It  would  have  been  pleasant  to  have  given 
oneself  up  to  the  scene,  but  the  spell  was  ever  broken  by  the  far-off 
booming  of  the  Union  guns,  untiringly  pouring  their  shot  into  the 
Confederate  defences  of  Petersburg,  and  one  shuddered  as  the  dim 
outline  of  the  cemetery  and  hospital  could  be  still  discerned.  I 
turned  to  the  soldier,  and  asked  him  if  he  was  sick  or  wounded : 

"  I  am  both  sick  and  wounded,  sir." 

"  Hard  enough,"  said  I,  taking  my  seat  beside  him. 

"A  ball  passed  through  my  body  near  my  left  lung.  My  Doctor 
thinks  I  will  recover." 

"  That's  encouraging ;  it's  a  great  mercy  you  escaped  so." 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  musingly.  "  The  mercy  of  the  Lord  is  new  every 
morning,  and  fresh  every  evening." 

His  manner  was  very  retiring,  and  he  seemed  a  little  unwilling  to 
talk.  But  he  was  a  Scotchman,  and  I  must  know  something  more 
of  him : 

"  You  know  something,  then,  of  this  Mercy  of  God  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  'As  a  father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth 
them  that  fear  Him.'  " 

Every  word  he  uttered  thrilled  me  with  pleasure,  his  manner  was 
so  chaste  and  elegant ;  and  he  seemed  so  to  know  whereof  he  was 
speaking. 

"  You  are  Scotch  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  and  told  me  his  name.  When  he  heard  mine,  he 
added — 

"  O  sir,  I  suppose  you  are  pretty  nearly  a  Scotchman  yourself?" 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  but  not  altogether." 

We  belonged  to  the  same  visible  Church,  and  the  ancestors  of  each 
name  had  witnessed  for  the  truth  on  the  same  fields  in  the  mother 
land. 

"  I  would  rather  be  born,"  he  smilingly  said,  "  of  such  parents, 
than  be  the  child  of  kings  and  princes." 

I  promised,  as  I  was  leaving,  to  bring  him  some  reading  matter ; 
but  his  Bible  and  Catechism  were  enough,  he  said. 


328  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Through  the  night  and  during  the  next  day,  I  thought  much  of 
my  new  friend,  waiting  impatiently  for  the  evening,  when  I  should 
see  him  again.  He  told  me  then  something  of  his  history.  He  was 
born  near  Bothwell  Bridge,  in  Scotland.  Near  by  was  a  little  valley 
between  two  hills,  and  the  tear  came  down  his  cheek  as  he  told  of 
it.  It  was  beautiful  to  see  how  he  turned  at  once  his  earthly  grief 
into  blessed  consolation : 

"  But  there  is  a  land  where  '  the  Lamb  shall  feed  them  and  shall 
lead  them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters ;  and  God  shall  wipe  away 
all  tears  from  their  eyes.'  " 

Tenderly  and  lovingly  he  went  into  all  the  particulars  about  his 
old  home,  even  to  the  honeysuckle  and  sweet-brier  around  the  walls 
and  the  hum  of  the  morning  bees.  And  then  again,  as  his  sweet 
half  talk,  half  reverie  journeyed  on,  he  went  up  from  the  earthly  to 
the  heavenly,  and  told  how  in  the  "  auld  house"  he  had  learned  of 
what  was  "  sweeter  also  than  honey  and  the  honeycomb."  And  then 
he  told  of  the  mountain  near,  and  of  the  brook  that  clambered  down 
its  sides  and  ran  near  the  home  door,  of  the  trees  in  their  winter 
diamonds  and  summer  green,  and  of  the  pasture-valley  where  he 
watched  his  father's  flock. 

What  a  precious  story  too  was  his  account  of  the  training  he  had 
received !  Six  farmers'  families,  near  together,  used  to  gather  their 
sheep  on  Saturday  evening  to  the  most  convenient  pasture,  so  as  to 
have  little  trouble  on  the  morrow.  It  seemed  to  him  the  sheep  knew 
when  Sabbath  came ;  they  were  so  much  quieter.  Three  miles  off 
was  the  new  Free  Church ;  and  thither  all  went  on  the  Lord's  Day ; 
only  one  being  left  behind  to  care  for  the  flock, — a  duty  which  the 
knowing  dog  took  most  charge  of,  for  he  knew  how  to  gather  the 
sheep  together  on  that  day  without  even  a  bark.  The  quaint,  beau 
tiful  words  of  the  old  Scotch  version  of  the  Psalms  told  how  he 
thought  of  the  "  House  of  Prayer  :" 

"  I  joyed  when,  to  the  House  of  God 

Go  up,  they  said  to  me ; 
Jerusalem,  within  thy  gates 
Our  feet  shall  standing  be." 

Thus  was  the  Sabbath  indeed  a  day  of  blessed  rest,  free  from  all 
vain  talk  and  worldly  enjoyment,  "  a  delight — the  holy  of  the  Lord 


POINT    OF    EOCKS.  329 

honorable,"  not  a  weariness,  but  a  deep  foretaste  of  the  Eternal  Sab 
bath  of  joy.  At  the  close  of  the  service  all  gathered  together;  re 
marks  were  made  upon  the  sermon ;  the  elder  "  bairns"  catechised  ; 
and  then  some  extract  read  from  Boston,  Willison  or  Baxter,  before 
all  returned  to  their  homes.  His  intention  to  study  theology  had 
been  frustrated  by  his  father's  death,  after  his  graduation  at  a  Scotch 
university.  Removing  to  this  country,  he  had  found  the  war-fever 
so  high  that  he  enlisted. 

His  story  made  a  deep  impression  upon  me, — so  deep  that  I  deter 
mined  to  visit  him  upon  my  return  to  the  army,  which  was  not  until 
the  following  March. 

I  found  him  amid  the  old  surroundings,  trustful  and  quiet  and 
beautiful  in  his  talk  as  ever,  and  very  glad  to  see  me ;  all  the  re 
straint  which  at  first  marked  his  manner  had  disappeared;  but  it  was 
sadly  evident,  as  I  looked  at  him,  that  he  was  nearing  his  end.  I 
made  him  lean  on  my  shoulder  as  we  walked  together  along  the 
river's  bank.  Said  he — 

"  I  imagine  my  case  is  like  that  of  one  of  my  own  countrymen, — 
poor  Michael  Bruce.  But  he  did  some  good  to  the  world  ;  his  poems 
will  never  be  forgotten.  He  intended  to  study  for  the  ministry,  but 
was  early  called  to  the  Church  above." 

He  went  on  to  repeat  some  stanzas  from  "  Lochleven,"  one  of 
Michael  Bruce's  poems : 

"Thus  sung  the  youth,  amid  unfertile  wilds 

And  nameless  deserts'  unpoetic  ground : 
Far  from  his  friends  he  strayed,  recording  thus 

The  dear  remembrance  of  his  native  fields, — 
To  cheer  the  tedious  night,  while  slow  disease 

Prey'd  on  his  pining  vitals,  and  the  blasts 
Of  dark  December  shook  his  humble  cot." 

"  I  feel  like  him  in  many  ways ;  far  from  the  friends  I  love,  I  need 
remembrance  to  cheer  away  the  gloom." 

Once  again,  and  for  the  last  time,  I  met  him.  His  old  cheerful 
ness  remained,  but  the  nearness  of  the  end  made  the  interview  more 
solemn.  Again  he  recurred  to  his  favorite  poet,  and  quoted  from 
that  pathetic  "Elegy,"  which  seemed  to  have  been  written  for  Anderson 
himself: 


330  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"Now  Spring  returns;  but  not  to  me  returns 

The  vernal  joy  my  better  years  have  known: 
Dim  in  my  breast  life's  dying  taper  burns, 

And  all  the  joys  of  life  with  health  are  flown. 

"Starting  and  shivering  in  the  inconstant  wind, 
Meagre  and  pale,  the  ghost  of  what  I  was, 
Beneath  some  blasted  tree  I  lie  reclined, 

And  count  the  silent  moments  as  they  pass; — 

"  The  winged  moments,  whose  unstaying  speed 

No  art  can  stop  or  in  their  course  arrest, 
Whose  flight  shall  shortly  count  me  with  the  dead, 
And  lay  me  down  in  peace  with  them  that  rest. 

"Oft  morning  dreams  presage  approaching  fate, 

And  morning  dreams,  as  poets  tell,  are  true; — 
Led  by  pale  ghosts  I  enter  Death's  dark  gate, 
And  bid  the  realms  of  light  and  life  adieu. 

"  I  hear  the  helpless  wail,  the  shriek  of  woe, 
I  see  the  muddy  wave,  the  dreary  shore, 
The  sluggish  streams  that  slowly  creep  below, 
Which  mortals  visit  and  return  no  more. 

"Farewell,  ye  blooming  fields,  ye  cheerful  plains; 
Enough  for  me  the  churchyard's  lonely  mound 
Where  Melancholy,  with  still  Silence  reigns, 
And  th'  rank  grass  waves  o'er  cheerless  ground. 

"  There  let  me  wander  at  the  close  of  eve, 

When  sleep  sits  dewy  on  the  laborer's  eyes; 
The  world  and  all  its  busy  follies  leave, 

And  talk  with  wisdom  where  my  Daphnis  lies. 

"There  let  me  sleep,  forgotten  in  the  clay, 

When  death  shall  shut  these  weary,  aching  eyes, — 
Rest  in  the  hope  of  an  Eternal  Day, 

Till  the  long  night  is  gone  and  the  last  morn  arise." 

Surely  here  was  the  very  scene  before  us :  the  Spring  returning, — 
but  not  for  him ;  the  old  oak  under  which  he  stood  ;  the  winged  mo 
ments  soon  to  lay  him  with  the  dead  ;  the  pale  ghosts  on  every  bed 
of  that  hospital  of  sorrow  near ;  the  muddy,  dreary,  sluggish  Appo- 
mattox,  and  the  waiting  crowd  visiting  it  now,  perhaps  to  return  no 


CITY    POINT.  331 

more;  the  remembered  story  of  his  home;  the  graves  near  by;  and  the 
Hope  that  turned  the  whole  to  gladness, — and  would  yet  make  the 
long  night  flee  away. 

But  a  few  days  more  of  life  were  left  him.  About  the  25th  of 
March  the  weary,  aching  eyes  were  shut,  and  he  rested  in  hope. 

Mr.  J.  H.  Morley  relates  an  incident  of  the  result  of 
courage  in  facing  the  consequences  of  doing  duty : 

A  young  man,  trying  to  lead  a  Christian  life,  was  persecuted  by 
his  tent-mates.     When  he  knelt  down  to  pray  at  night  they  hurled 
boots  and  sticks  of  wood  at  him.     In  great  trouble  he  went  to  ask 
advice  of  his  Chaplain,  who  for  some  reason  coun 
selled   him  to  say   his    prayers   secretly,    and    thus       ,    j,     , 
escape  persecution.     The  young  man  tried  to  do  so 
for  a  short  time,  but  at  last  returned  to  the  old  way.     His  Chaplain 
met  him  soon  afterwards  and  inquired  how  he  was  getting  along. 

"  Nicely,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Did  you  follow  my  advice?"  continued  the  Chaplain. 

"  I  did  for  a  little  while,"  said  the  soldier,  "  but  have  changed  back 
to  the  old  way  now." 

"And  what  is  the  result?" 

"  All  my  companions,"  (ten  or  a  dozen  in  number)  "  kneel  down 
every  night  with  me.  Isn't  it  better,  Chaplain,  to  keep  the  colors 
flying?" 

Mr.  H.  L.  Porter1  shows  how -a  blessed  work  of  God's 
grace  may  come  from  an  act  of  kindly  relief: 

One  evening  in  August  I  was  returning  to  my  quarters  at  City 
Point  Hospital,  when  I  saw  a  soldier  ahead  leaning  against  a  tree. 
I  went  and  spoke  to   him  ;    found  him  very  weak.     It  took  us  to 
gether  a  long  time  to  reach  the  hospital.     I  visited 
him  afterwards  occasionally.     He  attended  our  meet-      dier  could  1)0° 
ings  and  became  a  disciple  of  Christ.     The  evening 
before  leaving  for  the  front  he  asked  our  prayers.     There  was  not  a 
Christian  man  known  to  him  in  his  regiment,  and  some  officers  did 


Of  Haverhill,  Mass. 


332  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

not  like  to  hear  anything  about  religion.  He  returned  to  work,  how 
ever.  A  prayer  meeting  was  started  in  the  woods  ;  he  told  his  story ; 
several  were  converted.  In  November  he  wrote  me  a  letter,  con 
taining  an  account  of  progress : 

"  We  have  now  twenty-five  members,  and,  by  God's  assistance,  we 
shall  have  a  still  larger  increase.  Now  we  have  a  tent  to  ourselves, 
which  we  were  permitted  to  use  by  our  Colonel.  Last  night,  being 
Sabbath  evening,  it  was  full.  It  is  a  hospital  tent  and  pretty  large : 
but  I  don't  think  it  will  be  large  enough  for  us  in  a  short  time.  We 
have  prayer  meetings  on  Wednesday  evening  and  Sabbath  morning 
and  evening ;  on  Friday  evening  there  is  a  class-meeting,  and  on  Sab 
bath  afternoon  a  Bible-class.  So  we  are  not  altogether  idle.  We 
have  organized  a  society,  adopted  a  constitution,  and  taken  a  name  ; 
'Young  Men's  Christian  Association  of  the  9th  N.  J.  Regiment.' 
God  has  been  with  us  everywhere  we  have  been."  He  goes  on  to 
recall  the  prayer  meetings  at  the  hospital,  and  to  thank  the  Com 
mission,  and  then  concludes  :  "  The  more  I  pray  the  better  I  love  the 
cause  of  Christ.  I  am  just  beginning  to  realize  His  religion,  for  I 
am  a  young  beginner,  but  trust  that  I  may  be  always  faithful  in  well 
doing. 

"  JOHN  GERRIGAN." 

Eev.  E.  F.  Williams,  telling  the  history  of  New 
Market  Station  in  the  Army  of  the  James,  in  Decem 
ber,  relates  the  following  incident : 

When  the  rebellion  broke  out,  J—  -  was  a  citizen  of  Virginia,  be 
longing    to    a    company   of    volunteer    militia.     He    voted    against 
secession,  but  when  this  was  forced  upon  his  State   and  his  regiment 
was  to  be  called  soon  into  the  field,  he  left  Virginia 

and,  with   his  family,  secretly  moved  to   Maryland. 
Name  among  the 
People  of  God.        Here  during  Lee's    invasion  he  was  recognized  by 

an  old  neighbor,  and  arrested  as  a  deserter.  He 
was  hurried  to  Carlisle,  Pa.,  as  a  prisoner,  thence  to  Gettysburg, 
where  under  guard  he  witnessed  the  terrific  battle.  In  the  confusion 
of  retreat  he  escaped  to  the  Union  camp.  Here,  mistaken  for  a 
Kebel  prisoner,  he  was  sent  to  Fort  Delaware,  whence,  after  vexatious 
delays,  he  was  at  last  released.  Getting  his  family  together  again, 


NEW    MARKET    STATION.  333 

he  removed   to   Pennsylvania.     In   July,  1864,  he  enlisted  in  the 
Union  army,  with  the  stipulation   that  he  should  only   be  called  to 
do  duty  where  he  would  not  be   exposed  to  capture  by  the  Con 
federates, — an  arrangement  which  was    overlooked  by  his   officers. 
He  was  present  at  the  dedication  of  our  chapel  on  the  New  Market 
Road.     God  met  him  and  convinced  him  of  sin,  giving  him  faith 
and  repentance  unto  life.     When  those  who  desired  to  enroll  them 
selves  on  the  Lord's  side  came  forward  to  give  in  their  names,  he  said, 
as  he  handed  in  his,  that  he  had  enlisted  under  a  fictitious   name, 
fearing  to  fall  into  Rebel  hands;  but  he  added  most  earnestly — 
"  I  want  my  right  name  taken  among  the  people  of  God." 
During  the  Winter  he  was  full  of  hope.     It  was  a  treat  to  hear 
his  testimony  to  God's  grace,  spoken  with  his  strong  German  accent: 
"  I  used  to  laugh  at  dese  tings,  unt  find  fault  mit  de  breacher ; 

some  vas  too  long  unt  some  too  short,  some  vas  too 

"Old    Things 
pig  unt  some  too  little, — but  now  dey  shoost  suits  me.      become  jyew  » 

I  lofe  dem  all ;  I  lofe  dis  house ;  I  lofe  de  wort  of 
G-ott,  unt  I  mean  to  serfe  Him  all  my  life.  My  bredren,  be  firm,  be 
faitful ;  stant  up  for  Jesus,  unt  notings  vill  harm  you.  I  vas  afraid 
at  first,  myself,  but  I  to  my  duty.  I  read  my  Bible,  unt  though  my 
wicked  frients  shake  head  and  laugh,  I  know  ven  dey  see  me  in  earn 
est,  dey  vill  soon  quit  dis  foolishness." 

He  was  afterwards  transferred  to  the  North-west,  to  serve  against 
the  Indians. 

Rev.  Edward  P.  Smith,  called  from  Nashville  to  the 
Central  office,  visited  the  Potomac  Army  in  December. 
He  writes  from  City  Point : 

After  a  preaching  service  in  the  crowded  chapel  tent,  those  desir 
ing  instruction  upon  the  subject  of  religion  were  asked  to  remain. 
Among  some  thirty  who  accepted  this  invitation,  I  noticed  a  young 
lad,  apparently  fifteen  years  of  age,  who  remained  by 

himself  in  a  corner  of  the  tent.      I  went  to  him  at         ^P^ted  for 

Duty  and  under 
once  and  asked  why  he  had  stayed :  Orders. 

"  Because  you  told  me  to." 

"  Then  you  want  to  be  a  Christian  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  do  that." 


334  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?" 
"  Tom  Brown,  sir." 
"  You  are  a  New  York  soldier  ?" 
"  Yes." 

"  Did  you  ever  go  to  Sabbath-school  ?" 
"  Yes,  always." 
"  Have  you  a  mother  ?" 

"  She  was  a  Christian ;  she  has  gone  to  heaven  a  long  time  ago." 
"  Well,  why  are  you  not  a  Christian,  Tom?" 

"  That's  what's  the  matter ;  that's  just  what  I  stopped  for, — to  find 
out  how  to  become  one." 

"  Well,  don't  you  know  how  ?  What  did  Paul  say  to  the  jailer, 
when  he  wanted  to  know  what  to  do  to  be  saved  ?" 

"  I  have  heard  that  a  great  many  times,  but  somehow  I  don't  do  it, 
and  I  don't  know  how  to  do  it." 

I  explained  to  him  then  as  well  as  I  could  the  nature  of  faith,— 
what  it  is  to  give  oneself  to  Christ  and  leave  all  with  Him,  and 
accept  of  Him  as  the  Saviour.  But  Tom  seemed  to  get  no  relief.  I 
then  tried  a  new  form  of  illustration  : 

"  Who  is  your  commanding  officer,  Tom  ?" 

"  Lieutenant ." 

"  Suppose  the  Lieutenant  should  send  to-night  for  you  to  report  to 
him  ;  what  would  you  do  ?" 
"  I'd  report,  sir." 
"  Right  off?" 

"  Certainly,  sir ;  I  obey  orders." 

"  When  you  came  to  his  quarters,  what  would  you  say?" 
"  I'd  give  him  the  salute,  and  say,  'Lieutenant,  what's  the  orders?' " 
"And  when  you  got  the  orders — ?" 
"  Then  I  would  do  'em,  sir." 

"  Well,  now,  Tom,  the  Lord  Jesus  has  sent  me  to  you  to-night,  and 
orders  you  to  report  to  Him  at  once." 

"  I'll  do  it ;  I'll  do  it,  sir,"  and  the  little  fellow  looked  round  for 
his  hat  as  if  he  were  going. 

"  Wait,"  said  I,  "  Tom,  till  I  have  told  you  all.  The  Lord  Jesus 
is  here,  listening  to  you  and  me;  knows  your  words  and  your 
thoughts  and  all  you  mean  to  do.  Now  if  you  get  His  orders,  will 
you  do  them  ?" 


CITY    POINT.  335 

"  Yes,  sir,  right  away.'t 

I  asked  him  of  his  companions.  He  told  me  of  an  irreligious 
bunk-mate : 

"  Tom,  if  you  are  going  to  be  a  Christian,  don't  you  think  Jesus 
will  want  you  to  talk  and  pray  with  that  bunk-mate  to-night  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  a  fellow's  going  to  serve  Jesus,  he  must  take  hold  of  it." 

"  Well,  exactly  what  Jesus  wants  you  to  do, — that's  the  order.  And 
don't  you  think,  too,  that  He  wants  you  to  write  your  sister  in  the 
morning,  and  tell  her  how  you  feel  and  what  you  are  going  to  do  ?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  Well,  that's  the  order,  Tom ;  and  so  you'll  find  it  all  along  in 
life;  just  what  Jesus  wants  you  to  do, — that's  the  order.  Now,  are 
you  ready  for  duty  ?" 

"  Yes,  all  ready." 

'  To  take  all  the  orders  He'll  give  you  as  long  as  you  live  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  Tom,  let  us  kneel  down  here  and  '  report'  to  Jesus." 

We  knelt;  I  prayed  for  him  and  he  prayed  for  himself,  keeping  up 
the  figure  with  which  he  had  been  led  to  the  Saviour : 

"  Here  I  am,  Jesus  ;  I  report  for  duty.  All  You  order  me  to-night 
and  to-morrow  and  as  long  as  I  live  I  am  going  to  do — "and  with 
this  prayer  he  went  away.  As  he  was  passing  out  at  the  chapel  door, 
Brother  Blake,  not  knowing  what  had  transpired,  stopped  him  and 
asked  if  he  was  not  going  to  be  a  Christian. 

"  Yes,"  said  Tom,  "  I'm  under  orders." 

The  next  morning  he  came  to  our  quarters,  his  face  lit  up  with  the 
joy  of  newly-found  peace  and  hope.  During  the  few  days  in  which 
he  remained  at  the  hospital,  his  testimony  for  Christ  was  beautifully 
clear. 

A  story  related  by  Mr.  H.  V.  Noyes,1  in  a  letter  from 
Point  of  Rocks,  dated  January  23d,  shows  the  soldier's 
yearning  for  love : 

As  I  passed,  one  forenoon,  along  my  accustomed  rounds,  a  dying 
boy,  far  as  he  could  reach,  stretched  out  his  wasted  hand,  asking  me 


Of  Western  Theological  Seminary  (O.  S.  Presbyterian),  Allegheny,  Pa. 


336  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

to  come  that  way.     I  went  to  his  side.     He  put  his  cold  arm  round 

my  neck,  and  drew  my  face  down  to  his. 

"Let  me  Call 

you  Father"  OLI  ma^e  me  think  of  father,"  said  he.     "Let 

me  call  you  father ;  you  won't  laugh  at  me,  will  you, 
if  I  call  you  father  ?" 

"  No,  my  dear  boy,  call  me  father,  if  it  will  be  any  comfort  to 
you." 

"  Last  night,"  he  continued,  with  broken  utterance,  "  last  night, — 
when — you — prayed, — I — wanted — you — to — come — nearer  ;  I  was 
— so — sick.  I  couldn't — hear." 

I  asked  him  of  his  dying  hopes : 

"  I  can't— read— much— now  ;  but,— thank— God— "  It  was  too 
much,  he  could  say  no  more;  and  the  sentence  remains  for  ever  unfin 
ished.  I  suppose  he  was  thinking  of  reading  in  his  Testament. 

Again,  he  spoke:  "  You'll— let— me—  kiss— you— now,— won't— 
you  ?"  And  then  he  pressed  his  lips  to  my  cheek  and  gave  his  fare 
well  sign.  I  put  my  mouth  to  his  ear,  and  offered  a  fervent  petition, 
that  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  would  receive  him  to  Himself.  The  cold 
sweat  was  already  gathering,  and  the  darkness  of  death  was  about 
him  : 

"  You'll— stay— with— me— all— night,— won't  you?" 

I  told  him  I  would  come  back,  after  I  had  gone  on  a  little  further 
up  the  row  of  cots.  Gently,— oh,  how  gently,  I  removed  his  arm 
from  my  neck,  and  bade  him  good-bye. 

A  few  minutes  later,  I  heard  them  saying,  "  Thompson  is  dead." 
I  hastened  back  ;  the  cot  was  already  empty.  It  only  remained  for 
me  to  find  him  again,  and  cut  two  locks  of  hair, — one  for  the  mother 
in  Vermont,  the  other  to  be  kept  in  sacred  remembrance  of  the  sol 
dier  who,  in  his  dying  breath,  desired  to  call  me  "Father." 

Rev.  N.  M.  Bailey1  writes  from  New  Market  Roads 
in  January  : 

One  noble  old  soldier  from  Michigan,  named  Peter  Whitmore, 
said  to  me — 

"  I  had  a  pleasant  home ;  a  dear  family  of  children  and  grandchil- 


1  Minister  of  Meth.  Episc.  Church,  Henniker,  N.  H. 


CITY    POINT.  337 

dreii ;  a  good  farm  ar  d  all  that, — but  I  wanted  to 

do  something  to  help  put  down  this  rebellion,  and       rjoura  e 

destroy  slavery.     I  believe  the  Lord  is  on  our  side, 

and  will  soon  give  us  the  victory.    I  didn't  suppose  I  could  go  through 

so  much  as  I  have, — but  the  Lord  has  helped  me.     I  have  prayed 

to  Him  every  day,  and  I  trust  He  will  take  me  back  home  again, 

safe ;  but  if  not,  it  is  His  will, — and  it's  all  right." 

To  faith  such  as  this,  God's  sending  was  ever  the 
best.  Rev.  A.  L.  Pratt1  writes : 

I  found  a  Maine  soldier,  about  twenty-four  years  of  age,  in  one  of 
the  hospitals  at  City  Point.    His  good  right  arm  would  not  again  bear 
a  weapon  against  his  country's  enemies.    It  was  amputated  just  below 
the  shoulder-joint.    He  was  an  earnest  Christian,  and 
grateful  for  our  slightest  favor.     One  day  he  looked      jj™     •     / 
up  into  my  face  with  a  cheerful  smile,  and  said — 

"  It  seems  to  me  I  can't  be  grateful  enough  for  losing  my  arm.  It 
made  me  thoughtful,  and  opened  the  way  for  your  Delegates  to  visit 
me,  and  ended  in  my  finding  Christ.  '  It  is  better,'  I  think,  '  to  enter 
into  Life  halt  or  maimed,  rather  than  having  two  hands  or  two  feet 
to  be  cast  into  everlasting  fire.' " 

The  following  narrative  is  from  the  pen  of  Rev.  J.  K. 
McLean.2  It  is  such  a  vivid  picture  of  a  fair  and  open 
conflict  with  the  Adversary,  and  illustrates  so  many 
points  of  the  Delegate's  work,  that  it  is  given  entire : 

With  Brother  George  W.  Bigelow,  a  member  of  my  own  church, 
I  was  deputed  to  establish  a  Commission  station  at  the  Cavalry  De 
pot  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  then — from  January  to  March, 

1865 — located  two  miles  below  City  Point,  on  the 

.  ,         n,   ,,        T  >    ,.  Cavalry  Depot. 

same  side  of  the  James.     It  was  a  camp  of  dis 
mounted  cavalry,  numbering  at  different  times  from  350  to  2000 
men,  and  composed  of  those  who  had  lost  their  horses  in  action  and 
were  waiting  here  to  be  remounted ;  of  wounded  men  and  convales- 


1  Minister  of  Meth.  Episc.  Church,  Bradford,  Vt. 

2  Pastor  of  the  Hollis  Congregational  Church,  Framingham,  Mass. 
22 


338  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

cents  on  their  way  back  from  hospital ;  a  corral  of  horses ;  an  armory, 
smith  shops,  saddle  shops,  depot  of  clothing,  equipments,  &c. 

Previous  to  our  coming,  little  Commission  work  had  been  done  for 
the  camp.  An  occasional  Sunday  service  and  an  irregular  distribu 
tion  of  papers  was  all.  On  Monday,  January  16th,  Brother  Bigelow 
and  myself,  both  entirely  new  to  the  service,  filled  our  haversacks 
with  Commission  ammunition,  and  started  on  foot  through  the  inter 
vening  two  miles  of  mud  and  camp  offal,  for  our  scene  of  operations. 

Our  first  duty  was  reconnoitring.    We  discovered  the  case  to  stand 
about  as  follows  :  Here  were  some  500  men,  and  more  daily  arriving, 
with  nothing  to  do,  under  lax  discipline  and  few  restrictions,  stop 
ping  here  for  a  few  days  on  their  way  to  the  front  to 

A.  Reconnois-  .    .       .-,       0  />    ,1 

.    ^  take  part  in  the  feprmo;  movements  or   the  army, 

sance  in  Force.  to  >  Jt 

which  for  the  cavalry  would  be  especially  hazardous. 
Many  of  them  were  sure  to  be  shortly  either  maimed  or  killed. 
What  was  to  be  done  must  be  done  quickly. 

The  material  of  the  camp  was  peculiar.  The  old  men,  those  who 
had  been  dismounted  or  wounded,  had  nearly  all  been  engaged  in 
the  constant  raiding  of  the  last  campaigns ;  stopping  nowhere  beyond 
a  few  hours,  with  few  or  no  Chaplains,  they  had  attended  no  Divine 
service  for  months ;  some  of  them  had  not  for  two  years.  "  Camp 
Stoneman,"  during  the  Winter  of  1863,  on  the  Rappahannock,  was 
the  last  place  in  which  many  of  them  had  heard  anything  of  "relig 
ion."  There  were  large  squads  of  raw  recruits  also  constantly  com 
ing  in ;  many  of  whom  were  at  this  time  about  the  worst  class  of  men 
probably  ever  sent  into  any  army, — professional  "  bounty -jumpers," 
thieves — given  their  choice  between  entering  the  army  or  the  peni 
tentiary,  and  other  refuse  matter  from  the  large  cities. 

The  very  atmosphere  of  that  fine  January  morning  was  reeking 
with  profanity  and  fetid  with  vulgarity  and  obscenity.  Some  of  the 
men,  when  they  came  to  know  who  we  were,  restrained  themselves  a 
little  in  our  presence ;  but  as  yet  we  were  unknown,  and  the  foul 
thoughts  came  out  in  foulest  words.  It  was  a  discouraging  prospect 
to  human  view, — two  men  drawn  up  before  this  stronghold  of  Satan, 
with,  so  far  as  we  knew,  not  a  single  Christian  in  it;  sin  rampant; 
blasphemy  stalking  unrebuked  ;  our  only  arms  the  little  tracts  and 
books  we  held, — light  artillery  indeed  against  such  walls  of  sin — yet 
we  were  there  to  carry  that  camp  for  Jesus.  We  seemed  to  ourselves 


CAVALRY    DEPOT  ;    CITY    POINT.  339 

like  two  men  who  should  march  with  pickaxe  and  barrow  against  a 
huge  mountain  to  remove  and  cast  it  into  the  sea.  But  remembering 
that  faith  can  remove  mountains,  we  began  our  work,  and,  with 
God's  blessing,  at  least  made  some  impression. 

We  visited  every  tent ;  told  who  we  were,  what  we  had  come  for ; 
gave  out  needles,  thread,  paper,  envelopes,  newspapers  and  books  ; 
invited  every  man  to  come  to  our  chapel  meetings,  when  we  should 
get  the  chapel  up.  We  were  in  every  instance 

kindly  received —even  cordially.     We  found  some      r  Profanity,  at 

Home  and  in  the 
Christians ;  and  almost  all  of  the  better  sort  said —        A 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course  we'll  come  to  meeting — always 
used  to  go  at  home !" 

"  But,  boys,  did  you  swear  so  at  home  ?" 

"  No,  we  didn't ;  that's  a  fact." 

"  Do  you  expect  to  keep  it  up  after  your  return  ?" 

"No." 

"  Won't  it  be  rather  hard  to  break  off  all  at  once  ?" 

"  That's  so  ;  just  the  reason  we  swear  so  now ;  got  used  to  it  with 
the  horses,  and  now  don't  think." 

The  horses,  according  to  a  cavalryman,  are  responsible  for  a  great 
deal  of  swearing.  Many  acknowledged  the  foolishness  of  the  habit, 
and  more  than  one  was  pledged  that  first  day  to  give  it  up.  Such 
efforts,  with  a  public  talk  on  the  subject  on  Sunday,  went  far  to 
cleanse  the  air  of  the  vice.  Doubtless  it  still  existed,  but  was  far 
less  obtrusive ;  oaths  were  probably  discharged  in  private,  but  they 
rattled  less  furiously  about  our  ears. 

Our  main  business  was  to  get  a  chapel  built,  and  in  it  to  hold  re 
ligious  services.    In  this  we  encountered  most  vexatious  delays.    We 
had  promise  from  the  officer  commanding  the  post,  of  men,  and 
lumber  from  adjoining  Secesh  estates,  for  a  stockade 
chapel  roofed  with  boards,  the  Commission  at  this      in     ape 
time  having  no  canvas  cover  to  give  us.     Every  day 
for  a  week,  this  promise  was  renewed.    A  few  logs  were  cut,  but  that 
was  all.     One  freezing  morning,  after  waiting  eight  days,  we  took  off 
our  coats,  borrowed  some  pickaxes,  and  set  at  work  to  dig  a  trench 
for  our  stockade.     This  brought  out  both  the  Captain  of  the  Dis 
mounted  Camp,  and  the  officer  commanding  the  post.     The  picks 
were  at  once  taken  out  of  our  hands ;  a  strong  detail  of  men  put  on ; 


340  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

and  we  rejoiced  at  the  near  prospect  of  having  a  sanctuary.  From 
stormy  weather  however,  from  failure  in  getting  boards, — the  hope 
of  which  we  finally  abandoned  and  roofed  our  building  with  canvas 
taken  from  a  chapel  elsewhere — and  from  other  causes,  it  was  not 
until  February  12th  that  our  tabernacle  could  be  dedicated. 

Meantime,  we  had  been  holding  meetings  at  the  Convalescent 
Camp,  a  half  mile  distant,  in  a  tent  or  hut  whence  rations  were  dealt 
out.  Into  this  we  gathered  one  night  four  or  five  men  who  could 

sing,  and  struck  up  some  of  the  stirring  soldiers' 

The  Work  Be-      ,  TTT^I  •         i    1^1  ^ 

hymns.     Within  a  half  hour  over  forty  had  come  in. 

gins.  J  J 

We  held  a  brief  service,  then  asked  any  who  were 
Christians,  and  not  afraid  to  own  it,  to  rise.  Four  stood  up  instantly. 
This  was  our  nucleus.  The  next  night,  five  asked  for  prayers,  and, 
from  that  time  until  the  meetings  were  transferred  to  the  large 
chapel,  hardly  a  night  passed  without  some  new  cases  presenting 
themselves.  Thus  by  the  time  our  chapel  was  finished  we  had 
gathered  a  goodly  number  ready  to  take  hold  and  help  on  the 
meetings. 

It  really  seemed  as  if  the  powers  of  evil  had  combined  against  our 
chapel.  We  had  to  build  by  the  help  of  bounty-jumpers,  who  would 
work  only  as  one  of  us  stood  by  and  watched.  The  building  was 
fairly  plastered  and  shingled  with  oaths ;  for  never 
did  a  wickeder  set  of  men  build  a  House  for  the 
Lord.  Then,  during  the  dedication,  a  gale  of  wind  blew,  which  first 
so  flapped  our  canvas  roof  about  the  long  stove-pipe  that  it  was 
pulled  apart  and  almost  shed  its  lengths  down  upon  us;  that  secured, 
the  roof  itself,  all  along  one  side,  loosened  with  a  crack,  and  would 
have  gone,  had  not  one  of  the  men,  just  in  time,  caught  the  flying 
canvas,  and,  though  repeatedly  lifted  from  his  feet,  held  on  until  help 
came  and  it  was  secured.  That  same  evening  a  large  squad  of  re 
cruits  came.  It  was  very  cold  ;  there  were  no  quarters  for  them, — 
not  even  shelter-tents ;  we  cheerfully  opened  our  chapel  to  them  for 
the  night.  The  next  morning  a  heavy  rain  came  on,  and  continued 
throughout  a  week.  No  quarters  could  be  built;  more  men  were  daily 
arriving ;  so  that  soon  two  hundred  were  quartered  in  our  chapel. 
And  such  a  place  as  it  became !  The  mud  was  almost  as  deep  within 
as  without ;  water  continually  poured  through  the  roof;  refuse  pork, 
coffee  grounds,  tobacco  quids  and  all  manner  of  filth  were  trodden 


CAVALRY  DEPOT;  CITY  POINT.  341 

into  the  miry  floor;  the  air  reeked  with  tobacco  smoke  and  was  fetid 
with  foul  breath ;  some  of  the  men  grew  sick,  many  of  them  became 
troublesome  and  quarrelsome  ;  it  was  only  by  frequent  interference 
on  our  part  and  threats  of  turning  all  out  into  the  storm,  that  we 
could  keep  them  in  control.  The  Prince  of  Darkness  had  apparently 
gained  a  final  triumph.  It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  we 
could  hold  our  meetings  in  the  rank  and  noisome  place.  But  we  did 
hold  one  every  evening  in  spite  of  the  surroundings,  and  with  most 
blessed  results. 

Every  evening,  I  think  without  exception,  some  rose  for  prayers 
or  spoke  of  a  newly-found  hope  in  Jesus.  Our  meetings  were 
crowded ;  sometimes  as  many  as  fifty  or  sixty  would  rise,  and  as 
many  as  twenty  speak.  It  was  no  carnal  battle-ground.  The  Holy 
Spirit  and  Satan  there  contended  mightily.  During  the  day  card- 
playing,  profanity  and  ribald  songs  were  the  order.  At  evening 
these  gave  place  to  prayer,  preaching  and  praise.  One  night,  after 
one  of  our  best  meetings,  the  chapel  had  become  quiet.  The  lights 
were  out  and,  save  an  occasional  snore,  all  was  silent, — when  we  were 
startled  by  the  cry  of  "  Murder — murder."  The  guard  rushed  to  the 
spot ;  we  came  with  our  lantern ;  and  such  a  scene  as  we  saw  would 
be  hard  to  describe.  It  afterwards  appeared  that  some  evil-minded 
persons,  whether  of  those  belonging  within  or  without  the  building 
we  never  discovered,  had  set  about  picking  pockets.  The  alarm 
given,  at  once  in  the  darkness  there  ensued  a  promiscuous  knock 
down  fight,  which  was  ended  only  by  the  arrival  of  the  guard  and 
lanterns.  After  that  we  kept  a  lantern  burning  in  the  chapel,  and 
a  guard  detailed  for  the  door.  Through  such  scenes  the  perennial 
strife  between  good  and  evil  went  on. 

It  was  a  full  week  ere  the  chapel  was  cleared.     Then  it  took  a 
detail  of  men  a  whole  day  to  clean  it.     By  scraping  the  seats,  newly 
sanding  the  floor  and  trimming  the  rough  walls  with  cedar  boughs,  it 
was   made   a  very  pleasant    and   really   attractive 
place.     With  this  our  troubles  ended ;  and  during  Brought    to 

the  rest  of  our  stay  we  had  clear  sailing.     A  Bible-        storm 
class  and  inquiry  meeting  were  held  every  afternoon, 
and  a  fully-attended  service  every  evening.     There  were  daily  con 
versions.     Among  the  converts  was  a  man  who  had  enlisted  in  a 
Pennsylvania  village  which  contained  seven  churches,  but  for  fifteen 


342  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

years  lie  had  never  been  in  one  of  them,  and  had  never  intended  to 
go  again.  Coming  in  with  the  recruits  who  were  quartered  in  our 
chapel,  the  first  night  or  two  he  went  out  into  the  storm  and  waited 
until  the  meetings  closed.  He  took  cold  and  resolved  to  stay  in,  the 
next  night.  He  did  so,  became  interested,  and  finally  determined  to 
live  a  Christian  life. 

Another  soldier,  named  McF ,  an  iron-roller,  from  Pittsburg,  a 

fine-looking,  stalwart  man  of  thirty-five,  came  to  the  tent-door  one 
morning  to  ask  if  we  could  not  put  a  stop  to  the  gambling  going  on 

in  the  chapel.     He  thought  it  out  of  place  and  sure 
7/i  Church  in  ,        T  ,     .          .  ,      .  . 

S  ite  of  Himself .  provoke   a   quarrel.     I    went   in  with   him,  and, 

after  stopping  the  card-playing,  had  a  talk  with  him. 
He  told  me  this  story :  He  had  been  accustomed  to  make  good  wages 
in  the  iron-mills.  With  the  other  men  he  would  quit  work  Saturday 
noon,  dress  up,  and  in  the  evening  go  to  the  theatre  or  "  spree  it." 
He  would  come  home  at  midnight  or  later  and  go  to  bed  drunk. 
His  patient  wife,  a  Christian, — a  member  of  the  Episcopal  Church, — 
would  sit  up  for  him,  help  him  to  bed,  take  his  muddy  boots,  dry, 
clean  and  polish  them,  and  in  the  morning  beg  him  to  go  with  her 
to  church.  He  would  refuse  and  she  would  cry.  This  had  hap 
pened,  for  a  year  or  two,  forty  Sabbaths  out  of  the  fifty-two.  He 
felt  his  degradation  and  the  wrong  he  was  doing  his  family,  but  had 
not  the  moral  strength  to  break  away  from  his  associations  and  do 
better,  until  at  last  in  a  kind  of  desperation  he  enlisted,  as  much  as 
anything  else  to  be  free  from  his  wife's  importunities  towards  a  better 
life.  He  arrived  at  City  Point  the  day  our  chapel  was  dedicated, 
and  was  one  of  the  squad  quartered  in  it.  What  was  his  dismay  at 
finding  himself  in  the  midst  of  preparation  for  a  religious  service ! 
He  had  left  home  to  get  rid  of  these ;  here  he  was  suddenly  among 
them  again.  He  rolled  himself  in  his  blanket,  and  lying  down  in 
an  obscure  corner,  tried  to  sleep,  but  could  not.  He  heard  little  that 
was  said,  but  could  not  shake  off  the  feelings  which  his  church- 
quarters  had  awakened.  He  slept  little  that  night,  thinking  of  his 
patient,  uncomplaining  wife,  his  children  and  his  own  past  conduct. 
At  last,  for  the  first  time  in  years,  he  was  driven  to  pray.  A  few 
nights  later  he  rose  for  prayers.  I  felt  very  hopeful  about  him. 
But  old  propensities  proved  very  strong.  One  day  he  was  greatly 
provoked,  got  into  a  fight,  and  came  near  being  put  under  arrest. 


CAVALRY    DEPOT  ;    CITY    POINT.  343 

After  this  he  avoided  us  and  left  the  meetings  entirely,  until  I  met 
him  one  morning  in  the  swampy  woods  back  of  our  camp,  and 
accosted  him.  He  tried  at  first  to  get  away,  but  finally  sat  down. 
I  told  him  I  was  sorry  about  the  fight  and  could  hardly  blame  him, 
his  provocation  had  been  so  great.  I  still  had  confidence  in  him,  and 
expected  he  would  do  well.  It  seemed  to  do  him  a  world  of  good. 
That  night  he  was  again  at  meeting,  and  every  following  night  while 
we  remained.  I  know  not  whether  he  became  a  Christian.  "  The 
Commission,"  he  used  to  say,  "  has  done  more  for  me  than  all  Pitts- 
burg  could." 

It  was  surprising  to  see  how  soon  the  men  came  to  put  confidence 
in  us.  They  would  come  and  tell  us  about  their  wives,  children  and 
sweethearts,  and  show  us  their  pictures.  One  poor  fellow  received  a 
letter  containing  news  of  his  aged  mother's  death.  He  came  with  it, 
though  a  perfect  stranger  to  us,  and  saying  no  word,  with  falling 
tears  handed  it  to  us  to  read.  He  wanted  sympathy,  and  instinct 
ively  felt  that  representatives  of  Christ  could  best  afford  it.  Boys 
brought  us  their  wallets  to  keep.  One  offered  us  five  dollars  for 
having  kept  his  over  night.  Men  put  into  our  hands  money  to  ex 
press  home,  and  watches  to  carry  when  we  returned  North.  With 
no  knowledge  of  our  personal  character,  with  only  the  endorsement 
which  the  Commission  gave,  the  men  reposed  unlimited  confidence 
in  us. 

It  was,  I  think,  the  second  day  our  flag  had  been  displayed,  that 
Brother  Bigelow,  returning  from  a  tour  through  the  camp,  found  a 
man  waiting  at  the  door  to  see  us.  He  was  a  member  of  the  mounted 

Fquad  at  headquarters  ;  came  from  Jersev  City  :  was 

c     .    •  .     '    '  The  Spirits 

the  son  01  pious  parents ;  had  at  home  a  pious  wife,      o        -,y  \ 

but  had  himself  resisted  all  religious  impressions. 
He  had  been  a  member  of  a  convivial  club  in  Jersey  City,  where  he 
had  been  hurrying  to  ruin.  He  enlisted,  came  to  City  Point,  and 
there,  apart  from  any  external  religious  influences  whatever,  be 
came  thoughtful,  penitent,  and  finally  a  child  of  Christ.  During  the 
two  months  since  his  conversion,  he  had  seen  but  one  person  with 
whom  he  could  converse  on  the  subject  of  religion.  Passing  our  sta 
tion  the  day  before,  he  saw  the  sign  "  Christian  Commission,"  and, 
though  knowing  nothing  of  us,  the  name  "  Christian"  attracted  him. 
In  his  own  words,  "  I  thought  that  there  I  should  find  some  one  with 


344  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

whom  I  could  talk."  As  soon  as  he  was  off  duty  he  came  over  to  our 
tent,  and  finding  no  one  in,  patiently  waited  our  return.  Thus 
Brother  Bigelow  found  him.  With  moistened  eye  and  quivering  lip 
he  related  his  story.  We  saw  him  often  during  our  stay,  and  were 
convinced  that  he  was  indeed  a  changed  man. 

Our  last  service  at  the  camp  was  deeply  affecting.  The  chapel 
was  crowded.  Rev.  S.  L.  Bowler1  preached  that  evening,  and  after 
some  remarks  we  bade  the  men  good-bye.  Even  in  the  short  time 
we  had  been  with  them  we  had  come  to  love  them,  for  we  had  found 
noble,  manly  hearts  among  them.  As  we  left  the  pulpit  after  the 
benediction,  they  stood  in  double  line  all  the  way  down  to  the  door. 
As  from  one  after  another  we  received  a  hearty  grasp  of  the  hand 
and  heard  their  "  God  bless  you,  Chaplain  !"  we  thanked  the  Lord 
that  He  had  placed  before  us  such  an  open  door. 

I  have  narrated  these  things  thus  fully,  for  the  reason  that  the 
experience  at  this  station  was  measurably  unique.  It  was  a  definite 
effort,  made  in  circumstances  favorable  to  show  the  working  power 

How  Great  the      °f  tlie  Commission.     We  found  a  camp  wholly  given 
Victory  was.  UP  to  g°dlessness,  the  good  which  was  in  it  buried 

out  of  sight — almost  smothered  in  superabounding 
evil.  By  a  moderate  effort,  through  God's  blessing,  and  that  in  a 
short  time,  this  state  of  things  was  almost  wholly  reversed,  so  that 
the  good  was  uppermost  and  the  evil  forced  to  skulk.  Large  num 
bers  of  men,  just  on  the  eve  of  the  sanguinary  battles  which  termi 
nated  the  war,  were  brought  under  Christian  influences,  whereto 
many  of  them  yielded,  and  rode  on  to  death  prepared  to  meet  it. 

After  we  left,  the  meetings  were  continued  under  the  efficient  charge 
of  Mr.  D.  C.  H.  Whitney,  of  Fitchburg,  Mass.  The  station  was  one 
of  the  last  broken  up  ;  our  stockade  chapel  had  to  be  abandoned,  as 
the  weather  grew  warm,  for  a  larger ;  and  night  after  night  many 
souls,  almost  a  "multitude,"  heard  and  "received  with  meekness 
the  engrafted  word"  to  their  salvation. 

The  work  in  connection  with  the  numerous  chapels 
erected  over  the  entire  army  was  one  of  exceeding  in 
terest.  In  many  of  them  revivals  were  begun.  In  all 

1  Of  Orono,  Me.     Long  the  Agent  of  the  Commission  at  the  Washington  Office. 


THE   ARMY    CHAPELS.  345 

there  were  deeply  fervent  and  prayerful  meetings.  Rev. 
E.  F.  Williams  writes  of  Henry  Station  Chapel  in  the 
Third  Division  of  the  Twenty-fourth  Corps:1 

One  evening  a  man  belonging  to  a  battery,  three-fourths  of  a  mile 
from  our  chapel,  strayed  over  to  the  meeting.     He  became  greatly 
interested  in  the  service.     When  about  half-way  home  he  kneeled 
by  a   stump  and  prayed.     The  next  night,  with  a 
companion,  he  sought  the  meeting  again.    The  stump      p 
saw  two  praying  souls   that  night,  and  upon  their 
return  to  camp  they  began  to  work  for  Christ,  and  in  a  few  weeks 
forty  men  out  of  that  battery  alone  found  peace  in  believing. 

Eev.  Wm.  A.  Mandell2  relates  two  soldiers'  experi 
ences,  told  in  the  chapel  at  City  Point  Hospital  : 

Amos  L.  Ham,  of  Co.  B,  18th  N.  H.,  told  us  how  he  was  arrested 
by  a  message  from  his  little  daughter.  He  labored  under  deep  emo 
tion  as  he  spoke.  His  wife  had  written  him  a  letter.  Before  sealing 
it  she  turned  to  her  little  daughter  and  asked  — 

"  What  shall  I  write  father  for  you  ?"  c/ 

*  Home  Safe. 

"Tell  him,"  said  little  Nellie,  "to  look  to  God  and 
trust  Him,  and  then  he  will  come  home  safe." 

The  message  went  to  the  father's  heart,  humbling  him  at  the  foot 
of  the  cross,  as  a  "  little  child." 

Corporal  Matthias  had  become  a  Christian.  Before  the  Hatcher's 
Run  battle  he  said  to  a  comrade  — 

"  You  are  detailed  to  go  front,  while  I  am  to  remain  with  the  bag 

gage.     Let  us  change  places.     I'll  go  front  ;  you  re- 

„  Going     into 

mam  m  camp. 


"What  for?"  asked  his  bunk-mate. 

"  Because  I'm  prepared  to  die,  I  think  ;  but  you  are  not." 

The  exchange  was  made.     The  Christian  soldier  was  hit  three 

times  by  spent  balls,  and  very  little  hurt.   The  Corporal's  friend  rose 

in  our  meeting,  and  related  the  circumstance. 


1  Annals,  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  p.  449. 

2  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Lunenburg,  Mass. 


346  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"I  want  to  tell  you,  brother  soldiers,"  he  added,  "that  this  brought 
me  to  Jesus,  and  He  has  made  me  a  very  different  man.  Some  of 
you  claim  to  be  as  happy  in  your  pleasures  as  Christians  are.  If  so, 
why  do  you  strew  the  way  with  cards  when  you  are  going  into  bat 
tle  ?  Why  are  you  afraid  to  die  on  the  field  with  these  in  your  pock 
ets  ?  Why  do  you  reprove  each  other  for  profane  words  while  you 
are  getting  into  line  of  battle  ?" 

The  narrative  and  the  argument  made  a  deep  impression  upon  all 
present. 

Rev.  H.  J.  Patrick  continues  the  reminiscences  of  the 
same  chapel : 

A  messenger,  just  in  from  the  front,  came  into  the  meeting,  and 
told  how  he  had  resolved,  the  last  time  he  was  there,  to  stand  up  the 
next  night.  Before  that  night  came,  he  was  ordered  to  the  front : 

"  I  was  very  much  troubled.     I  thought  my  '  day 
How    to    Be-  ,  .  , 

pi.-  f-          of  grace  was  passed.     I  was  put  out  on  picket,  and 

got  more  and  more  depressed.  At  last  I  determined 
I  would  be  a  Christian.  I  didn't  know  howT  to  do  it.  I  thought  I 
must  do  something  or  other.  The  only  thing  I  could  think  of  was 
to  work  with  my  companions,  and  get  them  to  do  as  I  did.  I  went 
to  one  and  asked  him  if  he  loved  Jesus.  He  said  he  didn't.  I  talked 
and  prayed  with  him, — spent  most  of  a  night  praying.  He  became 
a  Christian.  And  now  I  have  come  back  to  tell  you  how  precious 
the  service  of  Christ  is." 

In  the  just-completed  chapel  at  the  Cumming's  House 
Station,  during  the  first  meeting,  two  soldiers  spoke, 
whose  stories  Rev.  Mr.  Patrick  relates : 

About  two  hundred  came  in  at  our  first  meeting.     We  had  no 

benches  for  them ;  as  they  sat  d  la  Turk,  Rev.  Asa  Bullard,  of  the 

Massachusetts  Sabbath-school  Society,  gave  them  a  talk,  and  found 

out  that  nineteen-twentieths  of  those  present  had 

been  connected  with  Sabbath-schools.     A  soldier  of 

the  1st  Maryland  Regt.  told  how,  six  months  before,  he  had  scarcely 

known  what  the  Bible  wras.    Once  he  had  deserted.    His  punishment 

when  captured,  and  a  letter  from  his  wife,  urging  him  to  better 


BIBLE    AND    TESTAMENT.  34? 

things,  had  made  him  think.  So  one  day,  as  he  was  returning  from 
carrying  rations  out  to  the  pickets,  he  came  upon  a  soldier's  grave. 
Humbled  and  penitent,  he  there  determined  to  consecrate  himself  to 
Jesus.  He  told  us,  with  faltering,  earnest  words,  how  he  was  trying 
to  keep  near  to  Christ. 

At  the  same  meeting,  Lieutenant  Loomis,  of  the  146th  N.  Y.  Regt., 
told  us  that  on  the  19th  of  August,  the  day  of  the  Weldon  railroad 
fight,  as  his  men  were  advancing  to  the  charge,  he  saw  a  Bible  on 
the  ground  at  the  side  of  a  dead  Confederate  soldier. 

Picking:  it  up,  stained  with  blood,  he  found  afterwards 

federates  Bible. 

the  dead  soldier's  name  printed  on  the  cover.1 

"  Now,"  said  the  Lieutenant,  "  I  am  using  that  Bible  myself,  and 
—what  I  never  did  before — I  am  praying.  I  shall  keep  the  Bible 
for  the  owner's  friends,  if  they  can  be  found." 

An  incident,  somewhat  like  the  last,  is  related  by 
Rev.  Lyman  Bartlett  :2 

In  visiting  a  small  battery  directly  in  front  of  Fort  Morton,  I  be 
came  acquainted  with  the  Captain  of  a  heavy  battery  of  the  8th  N. 
Y.  Artillery.  Until  within  a  few  weeks  he  had  been  a  thoughtless, 
wild  young  man.  His  wife  was  a  Christian ;  and 
she,  with  a  pious  brother,  had  often  written,  urging  ^  ' 
him  to  come  to  Christ.  One  day  he  found  on  the 
ground  near  his  quarters  a  soiled  Testament,  which  he  picked  up 
and  began  to  read.  He  became  interested  as  he  had  never  been  be 
fore,  and  in  a  few  days  read  it  through.  Going  through  it  over  and 
over  again,  he  found  new  meaning  at  each  perusal,  though  there  was 
much  he  could  not  understand.  He  began  to  pray  for  light.  Soon 
the  Spirit  opened  his  eyes  and  led  him  to  the  cross,  where  he  found 
pardon  and  direction  and  peace.  All  this  time  he  had  not  conversed 
with  a  single  Christian  friend.  Afterwards  his  wife  sent  him  a  small 
pocket  Bible.  The  reading  of  it  was  a  new  revelation  to  him  each 
succeeding  day.  His  gratitude  to  God  for  having  opened  his  eyes  to 
behold  such  wondrous  things  out  of  His  Law,  was  beautiful  and 
child-like. 


1  B.  F.  Porter,  Co.  B,  llth  Miss. 

2  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Morristown,  Vt. 


348  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Rev.  Perkins  K.  Clark1  writes  in  February  from 
Point  of  Rocks : 

Before  I  left  home,  a  little  girl  came  to  me,  wishing  to  send  some 
thing  to  the  soldiers.  Her  mother  said  she  had  been  saving  all  her 
pennies  a  long  time,  and  had  been  very  unwilling  to  part  with  them. 

But  wrhen  she  heard  I  was  going  to  the  army,  she 
Little  Clara's  .  ^    ,  ,    . 

„.„  wanted  her  mother  to  come  with  her  to  bring  some 

of  them  to  me : 

"  Well,  how  many  will  you  take,  Clara  ?" 

"  Twenty-five," — this  was  one-fourth  of  the  whole  store.  The 
twenty-five  pennies  were  brought  to  me,  and  a  valuable,  though 
modest  little  roll  I  thought  it  to  be.  I  decided  to  add  to  it  some  of 
the  other  funds  entrusted  to  me,  and  procure  a  Bible,  to  be  given  in 
Clara's  name. 

As  I  was  visiting  my  patients  at  Point  of  Rocks  Hospital,  a  young 
man  of  the  1st  N.  Y.  Mounted  Rifles,  who  had  a  Testament,  asked 
me  for  a  Bible.  He  was  searching  for  the  truth,  and  under  deep 
conviction  of  sin.  I  said  to  myself,  Here  is  the  man  for  little  Clara's 
book.  So  I  told  him  all  about  the  twenty-five  cents,  and  wrote  on 
the  fly-leaf  of  the  book,  "  Albert  Smay,  Co.  C,  1st  N.  Y.  Mounted 
Rifles.  Bought  with  pennies  given  by  little  Clara  Hastings,  of  South 
Deerfield,  Mass.  Presented  by  Rev.  P.  K.  Clark,  U.  S.  C.  C.,  Point 
of  Rocks.  Feb.  14th,  1865.  'Search  the  Scriptures.' "  As  I  gave 
him  the  book,  I  spoke  to  him  earnestly  about  the  duty  he  owed  to 
God.  He  was  overcome  with  emotion,  and  hiding  his  face  under 
the  blanket  sobbed  like  a  child.  The  next  day  I  carried  him  some 
blackberry  syrup.  Again  I  presented  Christ  to  him  : 

"  I  haven't  found  Him,"  he  said,  "  and  it  seems  to  me  I've  been 
trying  as  hard  as  I  can." 

"  Well,  now,  suppose  you  stop  trying,  and  let  Him  try.  He  in 
vites  you  ;  believe  this  and  trust  Him.  His  promise  is,  '  Him  that 
cometh  unto  Me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out." 

Sabbath  morning,  I  saw  him  again. 

"  Yesterday,"  said  he,  "  I  found  Him ;  I  saw  that  I  could  do 
nothing  but  just  believe." 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  South  Deerfield,  Mass. 


POINT    OF    EOCKS  :    CITY    POINT.  349 

His  face  and  all  his  bearing  indicated  the  deep  peace  of  God.  I 
was  to  leave  next  morning,  and  came  to  bid  him  good-bye. 

"  Jesus  is  my  Saviour,"  he  said,  with  tears  rolling  down  his  cheeks; 
" I  can  leave  all  with  Him.  I'll  write  to  you  when  I  can  sit  up.  Tell 
little  Clara  how  I  thank  her  for  the  dear  book." 

When  my  term  of  service  in  another  part  of  the  army  had  ex 
pired,  I  hastened  again  to  the  Point  of  Rocks  Hospital.  Albert  had 
taken  a  new  sickness  and  was  dying.  He  was  too  weak  for  much 
conversation : 

"Is  Jesus  precious  to  you,  Albert?" 

"  He  is  all  that  is  precious  to  me,  now" 

He  whispered  his  wish  that  the  Bible  should  be  sent  to  his  mother. 
A  faint  smile  came  into  his  face  as  I  spoke  of  the  Better  Land.  It 
rested  there.  On  the  morning  of  February  28th  he  died,  happy  in 
Jesus. 

Rev.  W.  A.  Mandell  tells  this  story  of  the  last  hour  : 

At  City  Point  Hospital,  a  young  drummer-boy,  who  had  been 
wounded,  was  dying.  He  asked  a  Delegate  to  read  and  pray  with 
him.  A  number  of  passages  were  read ;  the  sufferer  kept  saying, 

"  Read  some  more."     At  last  the  Delegate  came  to 
.  _    .  .^'JT^^  ^e  Comfort  in 

the  fourth  verse  of  the  twenty-third  Psalm.  theDwk  Valley 

"Stop,"  said  the  boy,  "  that's  it;  read  it  again."   It 
was  done. 

"  Read  it  again,  please."     It  was  read  the  third  time. 

"  Will  you  put  my  hand  on  it,  please  ?" 

He  could  not  see ;  so  his  hand  was  guided  to  the  page  and  verse : 

"  Lay  it  open  on  my  breast,  Chaplain." 

It  was  done,  and  the  dying  child  folded  his  dear  arms  over  the 
sacred  words,  "  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil ;  for  Thou  art  with  me ;  Thy  rod  and  Thy 
staff  they  comfort  me."  Still  pressing  it  to  his  breast,  the  boy  passed 
from  the  scene  of  earthly  conflict  to  the  Country  of  Rest. 

A  conundrum  propounded  by  a  soldier  to  Rev.  E.  P. 
Smith,  in  February,  gathers  up  into  small  compass  so 
much  of  the  real  difficulty  of  army  life  that  it  may 
well  close  our  chapter : 


350  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

I  was  riding  on  top  of  a  train  of  cars,  running  over  what  the  sol 
diers  called  "  Gen.  Grant's  railroad," — the  line  that  stretches  from 
City  Point  up  to  the  left  of  the  army.     While  we  were  passing 
through  a  forest  cleared  by  soldiers'  axes,  a  private, 

"Can't  Stand  gfttin~  by  my  side,  called  attention  to  the  large  pine 
without  the  Lit-  3  .  ' 

tie  Ones"  trees  which  had   been  torn  up  by  the  roots  in   the 

wind-storm  of  the  night  preceding.  They  had  been 
left  standing  for  Quartermasters'  purposes  after  the  smaller  ones  had 
been  cut  away  for  fuel. 

"  Chaplain,"  said  the  soldier,  "  do  you  know  why  those  trees  that 
have  tumbled  over,  are  like  a  great  many  men  in  the  army  ?" 

I  gave  it  up,  and  he  answered — 

"  Because  they  can't  stand  without '  the  little  ones'  to  help  them." 


CHAPTEK    XIII. 

THE  EASTERN  ARMIES. 

FROM    THE    INVESTMENT   OF   PETERSBURG,    UNTIL    THE    CLOSE   OF    THE   WAR. 

(Concluded.) 

June  1864—  April  1865. 

A  LITTLE  story  told  by  Rev.  Geo.  N.  Harden  illus 
trates  the  same  general  truth  with  the  incident  which 
closed  the  preceding  chapter  : 

At  one  of  the  City  Point  hospitals  was  a  soldier  who  told  me  he 
had  been  near  the  gates  of  death. 

"  How  did  you  feel  in  view  of  meeting  God?"  I  asked. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  thought  it  all  over,  and  felt 

"My  Mother's 
calm  and  ready.     I  never  made  any  profession,  but  „ 


I'm  convinced  of  the  truth  of  religion.  When 
young,  I  used  to  read  Tom  Paine  and  Voltaire,  and  I  liked  to  argue, 
for  the  sake  of  argument,  with  any  one  who  seemed  sectarian  or  fond 
of  discussion.  Yet  I  did  not  believe  a  word  of  what  I  read.  I 
always  believed  in  my  mother's  religion.  No  man  on  the  face  of  God's 
globe  can  lodge  an  argument  between  me  and  my  mother's  religion." 

Rev.  Dr.  Robert  Patterson,  writing  from  Hatcher's 
Run,  in  March,  1865,  gives  an  account  of  the  opening 
of  a  fresh  box  of  Testaments  for  the  men  who  were  to 
march  within  a  day  or  two  : 

"  Boys,  I  want  eight  men  to  help  in  with  this  box  of  Testaments." 
"  Here  you  go,  Chaplain,"  said  a  child  of  fourteen  or  fifteen,  as  he 
caught  hold  with  the  others. 

351 


352  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"That's   a  queer  little  fellow,"  says  one  of  the 

Pleading  for  a  ., ,      .     „          TT  ,  ,         ,, 

„,  men  ;      he  is  from  Hagerstown,  where,  when  the  in 

habitants  fled,  his  father  bushwhacked  Stuart's  Cav 
alry  and  got  killed,  and  he  enlisted." 

He  gets  a  Testament  and  a  hymn  book  : 

"  If  you  give  me  another,  I'll  distribute  it." 

"  To  whom  will  you  distribute  it,  my  son  ?" 

"  To  my  Color  Sergeant,  sir." 

He  is  bringing  in  his  blanket  and  great-coat  for  the  Commission  to 
send  home  for  him. 

"  I  wish  you  would  give  me  one  of  those  Testaments.  I  had  one 
covered  with  leather,  mother  gave  me,  and  I  carried  it  all  through 
the  campaign,  til)  I  lost  my  knapsack.  I  wouldn't  have  taken  fifty 
dollars  for  it," 

"  Please,  Chaplain,  let  me  have  one.  I  have  a  Bible  my  mother 
gave  me,  but  the  covers  are  worn  off  it,  and  I  have  to  tie  it  with  a 
string ;  and  I  think  I'll  send  it  home." 

Here  is  a  young  convert  who  found  Christ  last  week,  and  he 
must  have  one.  There  is  a  boy  who  wants  to  send  home  his  Fifth 
Corps  badge,  a  Maltese  silver  cross,  inscribed  with  Antietam  and  a 
dozen  other  battles.  We  cannot  refuse  him  one. 

The  box  of  Testaments  will  scarcely  last  till  night.  Here  is  a 
Chaplain  with  an  oat  sack  for  papers  and  Testaments ;  he  will  shoul 
der  it  two  miles.  Here  comes  a  brother  with  whom  I  have  crossed 
the  prairie,  and  mingled  in  the  great  revival  of  1858 ;  and  he  says 
the  spirit  among  the  men  is  the  same  as  in  that.  His  Colonel,  Mc 
Coy,  conducts  the  meeting  when  he  is  absent,  and  the  chapel  tent  is 
filled  every  night. 

I  attended  a  Bible-class  on  Sabbath  afternoon,  in  the  Third  Bri 
gade,  Second  Division,  Fifth  Corps.  Almost  all  the  boys  had  Testa 
ments  ;  but  one  of  the  leaders,  buttoned  up  to  the  throat,  went 
around,  and  opening  his  breast  poured  forth  the  Word  of  God  from 
his  overflowing  bosom,  to  those  who  needed.  Then  they  all  began 
the  study  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  At  night  in  that  chapel  over 
a  dozen  were  under  conviction  and  seeking  prayer,  after  the  sermon. 
They  will  not  willingly  leave  the  meeting  till  the  drum  calls  them 
away. 


CITY    POINT.  353 

Rev.  W.  H.  Gilbert,1  canvassing  the  army  to  find  its 
need  of  the  Word  of  God,  comes  upon  these  incidents  : 

In  one  tent,  where  there  were  four  men,  two  of  them  went  to  the 
meetings,  and  became  hopefully  converted.    Without  opposition  from 
the  other  two,  they  began  reading  the  Bible  and  praying  in  their 
tent.     One  of  them,  a  short,  stout  man,  whom  they 
called  "  Chubby,"  was  accustomed  to  read  for  them.  „ 


At  length  Chubby  was  sent  to  the  front.     When  the 
hour  of  worship  next  came,  his  companion,  not  willing  to  give  up  the 
exercise,  or  to  conduct  it  entirely  alone,  asked  his  comrades  who 
should  read  the  Bible  for  them  : 

"Will  you,  William?" 

"  No,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  I  can't  read  the  Bible,  I  never  did." 

The  other  tent-mate,  who  was  a  very  profane  and  wicked  man,  re 
sponded  — 

"  I  will  ;  I  ought  to.  My  mother  taught  me  to  read  it  ;  and  it 
would  have  been  better  for  me  if  I  had  always  obeyed  her."  And 
the  tears  flowed,  as  he  took  the  book  and  read  a  chapter.  When  he 
had  done,  his  pious  companion  knelt  to  pray,  and  he  knelt  too  ;  and 
when  the  other  had  prayed,  he  followed,  and  then  and  there  gave 
himself  to  Christ,  and  began  a  Christian  life. 

In  one  of  the  meetings  at  City  Point,  a  soldier  said  that  he  had 
been  trying  to  serve  Christ  for  about  six  months.     He  had  been  try 
ing  to  induce  all  his  company  to  come  to  the  meeting 
and  seek  Jesus;  and  had  persuaded  eleven  to  come,  ™ 


He  drew  his  Bible  from  his  pocket,  and  said  he 

had   read  it  through  three  times  since  he  began  to  serve  Christ, 

and  he  would  not  exchange  it  for  all  other  books  that  could  be  col 

lected. 

Rev.  John  B.  Perry2  writes  in  March  from  the  chapel 
at  Warren  Station,  of  the  influence  exerted  through 
these  "  tabernacles  in  the  wilderness  :" 


1  Joint  Agent  of  the  American  Bible  Society,  and  of  the  Commission. 

2  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Swanton,  Vt. 

23 


354  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

There  were  two  boys  from  a  regiment   not  noted  for  piety,  who 

began  to  attend  the  services  at  Warren  Station  chapel.     Becoming 

interested  in  the  meetings,  they  persevered  and  soon  gave  evidence 

that  they  were  born  of  God.     Going  back  to  their 

own  camp,  they  started  social  worship  in  their  tents. 
fluence.  m  r 

The  little  gatherings  were  nightly  continued  ;  the 
number  in  attendance  increased;  soon  thirty  from  that  regiment 
indulged  hope  in  Christ. 

In  another  regiment  there  had  been  found,  a  few  months  before, 
but  a  single  professing  Christian.  He  had  been  alone  for  a  year. 
He  was  an  unassuming,  quiet,  conscientious  boy,  about  nineteen 
years  old.  His  life  was  so  spotless  and  his  efforts  so  faithful  that 
interest  among  his  comrades  was  at  last  awakened.  On  the  1st  of 
April  there  were  eighteen  of  the  regiment  who  cherished  a  substan 
tial  trust  in  Christ  as  the  Divine  Saviour. 

The  fruit  on  the  battle-field  of  these  awakenings  was  what  might 
have  been  expected,  —  soldiers  "  strong  in  the  Lord."  On  the  evening 
of  March  22d,  a  soldier  who  had  recently  found  peace  was  baptized 

and  received  into  the  Army  Christian  Association. 
At  Home  with      T  _  /»•»«-       in^-ii 

I11  the  severe  lighting  ot  March  zoth  he  was  mortally 


wounded.  When  brought  off  the  field,  though  suf 
fering  intensely,  he  was  happy  in  mind.  He  sent  messages  to  his 
friends  at  home,  and  to  his  companions  in  arms,  urging  them  to  seek 
Christ.  As  the  breath  ebbed  away  amidst  the  outward  signs  of  ex 
treme  bodily  anguish,  we  asked  him  whither  he  was  going  : 
"  I  am  going  home  ;  yes,  I  am  going  home  to  be  with  Jesus." 

Rev.  W.  Howell  Buchanan1  writes  of  the  way  in 
which  the  soldiers  became  attached  to  the  chapels  : 

I  attended  one  meeting  in  the  chapel  at  Meade  Station,  whose  like 
for  deep,  quiet,  religious  earnestness  I  had  never  seen.  It  was  liter 
ally  baptized  in  tears,  and  it  was  certainly  baptized  by  the  Holy 

Ghost.     One  young  man,  whose  emotions  continually 
The   Gate  of         ,     ,     ,  ,  . 
jfeaven  choked  his  utterance,  told  me  — 

"  I  helped  to  build  this  chapel,  and  I  shall  never 
forget  the  place.     I  didn't  know  when  I  was  at  work  here  what  good 

1  Of  Elverston  111. 


QUINNIPIAC   CHAPEL.  355 

it  would  do  me,  but  I  have  been  converted  here.  I've  been  home 
since,  and  united  with  the  old  church,  Dr.  Plummer's,  in  Allegheny 
City,  but  I  can  never — never  forget  this  chapel.  It's  been  the  gate 
of  heaven  to  me." 

Just  before  the  order  came  for  an  advance  along  the 
whole  line,  the  chapel  meetings  were  at  the  climax  of 
their  interest  and  power.  Two  narratives  will  illustrate 
this.  The  first  is  from  the  pen  of  Rev.  Dr.  Patterson, 
written  at  "  Quinnipiac  Chapel,"  near  Hatcher's  Run,  on 
March  20th : 

Yesterday  afternoon  and  evening  there  were  two  crowded  meetings 
at  General  Gwyn's  headquarters,  in  the  chapel  tent  where  the  men 
have  kept  up  meetings  every  evening  for  weeks,  without  any  Chaplain. 
When  I  went  in,  a  soldier  with  a  Sergeant's  chevrons 
was  preaching  Christ, — "His  name  shall  be  called 
Wonderful."     It  was  a  noble  gospel  sermon.     I  thought  of  Crom 
well's  preaching  and  praying  "  Ironsides,"  and  took  courage  for  our 
future. 

At  night  I  preached  to  a  crowded  house ;  the  officers  and  men  sit 
ting  on  round  poles,  with  pins  stuck  in  for  legs,  instead  of  benches. 
What  our  velvet-cushioned  pew-holders  would  say  to  meetings  lasting 
for  three  hours  on  such  a  "  roost"  I  can't  say, — but  General  Gwyn, 
with  his  Colonels  and  officers,  seemed  satisfied  to  obtain  room  amidst 
the  crowd.  After  sermon  there  was  a  prayer  meeting.  The  faces 
and  utterances  of  the  men  denoted  the  deepest  feelings.  I  had  not 
been  accustomed  to  so  much  excitement  in  my  meetings  at  home,  and 
so  expressed  myself  to  an  officer  present. 

"  You  should  have  heard  them  express  their  feelings,"  said  he, 
"  when  with  the  skirmish  line  they  took  the  enemy's  works  at  Dab- 
ney's  Mills."  It  did  seem  as  if  they  were  wrestling  in  mortal  conflict 
with  sin.  The  Colonel  said  of  some  of  the  men  who  were  praying — 

"  They  are  the  best  men  in  my  regiment.  In  the  fight,  there's  no 
hold  back  aboufc  them.  That  little  drummer-boy  yonder  was  a 
terrible  fellow  once ;  but  we  have  no  trouble  with  him  now." 

The  second   narrative  concerns  the  meetings  in  the 


n 
for  the  front. 


356  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Sixth  Corps,  conducted  by  the  Corps  Agent,  Eev.  Geo. 
A.  Hall,1  in  the  station  chapel  : 

The  nightly  crowded  meetings  in  the  chapel  witnessed  such  scenes 
as  have  never  been  known  outside  of  army  lines.  The  night  before 
a  fight  on  the  left,  the  question  was  put  to  a  most  solemn  assembly  — 
"  How  many  of  you  that  are  seeking  Christ  are 

ready  to  surrender  to  Him  now  ?  " 

J 
In  answer  some  twelve  or  fifteen  came  forward  and 

knelt  by  the  front  seat  ;  —  among  them  was  an  interesting  youth.  An 
old  man  seeing  him,  darted  from  his  seat  and  pressing  through  the 
crowded  aisle,  threw  his  arms  about  the  young  soldier,  sobbing  — 

"  My  son,  my  son.     He  was  lost  and  is  found." 

Just  then  an  Adjutant  from  Division  headquarters,  apologizing  for 
his  intrusion,  called  out  — 

"  All  men  belonging  to  -  Division,  fall  in." 

They  were  to  march  in  the  darkness  of  night,  to  secure  a  position 
for  the  attack  at  daylight.  The  men  at  the  front  seat  arose,  fell  on 
each  other's  necks  and  wept.  Some  of  them  were  to  go.  The  father 
was  not  in  the  division  ordered  out.  His  boy  was.  The  parting  was 
tender  and  cheerful.  He  kissed  him  and  said  — 

"  Go  now,  my  boy,  since  the  Lord  is  going  with  you." 

There  were  hurried  pledges  to  be  faithful,  and  then  they  all  took 
hold  of  hands  around  the  altar  and  sang  — 

"  Say,  brothers,  will  you  meet  us 
On  Canaan's  happy  shore  ?" 

and  hurried  to  their  quarters  to  make  ready  to  fall  in.  Some  did 
not  return  from  that  fight.  Two  were  brought  into  City  Point  Hos 
pital  badly  wounded.  They  told  us  of  the  meeting,  of  their  conse 
cration,  of  their  fearlessness  in  the  fight,  and  their  readiness  to  meet 
death,  if  it  was  God's  will.  Others  came  back  and  participated  in  a 
few  more  meetings  in  the  chapel,  and  joined  with  us  in  our  closing 
Communion  service  —  the  last  meeting  in  the  chapel,  and  the  last 
meeting  in  the  Corps  before  the  final  movement  on  Richmond. 

It  was  a  wonderful  service,  the  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper 


1  Member  of  Troy  Conference,  Meth.  Epis.  Church. 


THE   COLOEED    SOLDIEKS.  357 

under  marching  orders.     Officers,  soldiers  and  Delegates — all  united 

hearts  and  said  parting  words.    Some  of  them,  with- 

The    bora  s 
out  doubt,  would  next  drink  of  the  fruit  of  the  vine       Supper    under 

new  in  the  Father's  Kingdom.     None  expected  to       Marching    Or- 
commune  together  again  in  this  world ;  but  in  this       ders- 
they  were  happily  disappointed. 

When  the  Sixth  Corps  had  finished  its  noble  record  of  marching 
and  fighting,  and  came  to  rendezvous  back  of  Alexandria,  Mr.  Hall, 
with  his  station  in  working  order  and  his  chapel-flag  flying,  called 
in  his  boys  once  more.  The  blessed  meetings  were  resumed  and  on 
the  last  Sabbath  before  mustering  out,  one  more  Communion  service 
was  held  in  memorial  of  Christ's  love.  It  was  a  fit  place  and  time 
for  testimony  to  that  love,  by  men  who  had  come  into  the  service  as 
His  disciples,  had  been  kept  true  and  were  returning  veterans  in  that 
service ;  by  men  who  had  fallen  under  army  temptations  and  had 
been  rescued ;  and  by  many  who  were  going  home  after  a  three 
years'  service  to  testify  for  the  first  time  to  their  families  and  neigh 
bors  of  the  power  of  the  Christian  life. 

Before  closing  the  story  of  the  armies  operating 
against  Richmond,  reference  must  be  made  to  the  special 
work  undertaken  by  the  Commission  in  behalf  of  the 
colored  troops,  who  made  up  the  Twenty-fifth  Corps  in 
the  Army  of  the  James.  A  conference  of  Chaplains 
met  early  in  the  Winter  at  Butler  Station,  and  was  im 
mediately  followed  by  an  appeal  from  the  Executive 
Committee  at  Philadelphia  for  fifty  teachers  for  colored 
soldiers.  Gen.  Butler  gave  carte  blanche  for  all  the  needed 
lumber.  Primers,  Spelling-books  and  Bible-readers 
were  forwarded  in  very  large  numbers.  Soon  thirty 
neat  edifices  attested  the  eagerness  of  the  men  to  learn 
to  read  and  write,  and  schools  were  in  progress  in  nearly 
every  regiment  of  the  Corps.  Two  large  Commission 
stations — "Birney"  and  "Wild" — one  mile  apart,  were 
established  to  facilitate  the  general  work.  Long  before 


358  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

this,  however,  the  attention  of  the  Commission  had  been 
called  to  the  necessity  of  doing  something  towards  the 
instruction  of  this  part  of  the  army.  Eev.  J.  W.  Har 
ding,1  writing  from  Bermuda  Hundred  in  September, 
1864,  says : 

These  colored  soldiers  have  strong  arms  and  warm  hearts.  They 
salute  us  respectfully,  their  bearing  is  soldierly,  and  the  highest 
favor  we  can  give  them  is  a  Primer  or  a  First  or  Second  Reader,  or  a 

Testament.     They  are  bent  on  learning  to  read.     It 
The   Colored  .     ,-.  .,        _? 

would  please  you  to  see  me  in  the  capacity  ot  a  pri 
mary  school  teacher  to  some  brawny  cavalry  six- footer. 
He  stands  by  my  side,  cap  in  hand,  booted  and  spurred,  his  bright 
sabre  clanking  at  his  heels,  and  eagerly  spelling  out  the  words  which 
shall  unseal  for  him  the  fountains  of  knowledge.  I  could  devote  my 
whole  time  in  giving  them  spelling  and  reading  lessons.  And  then 
you  should  see  them  on  their  well-groomed  horses,  marching  in  a 
squad  of  Rebel  prisoners.  They  say  nothing,  but  they  look  every 
thing,  and  so  do  their  more  than  crest-fallen  captives.  We  found 
some  of  these  in  the  guard-house  yesterday,  who  were  actually  in 
mortal  dread  of  their  colored  guard,  lest,  remembering  Fort  Pillow, 
they  might  lay  violent  hands  on  them.  There  is  no  doubt  that  a 
salutary  fear  of  our  colored  soldiers  is  pervading  the  Rebel  camps. 
And  then  you  should  see  these  black  troopers  escorting  in  their  wives 
and  little  ones  and  sweethearts,  each  loaded  on  the  head  and  in  both 
hands  with  the  spoils  of  the  Egyptians ;  and  the  laughing  pickanin 
nies,  who  cannot  march,  nestling  in  the  left  arms  of  their  protectors. 

It  is  impossible  within  reasonable  limits  to  give  any 
thing  like  an  adequate  idea  of  the  characteristics  of  the 
colored  soldier.  Yet  an  incident  or  two  may  help  to 
form  a  partial  picture.  Rev.  E.  F.  Williams  gives  a 
story  occurring  at  the  City  Point  General  Hospital : 

On  one  of  the  hottest  days  in  August,  Lieut.-Gen.  Grant  rode  up 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Longmeadow,  Mass. 


CITY    POINT. 


359 


to  the  Commission  headquarters,  and  asked  for  a  drink  of  water.     A 
cup  of  lemonade,  sweetened  with   black-brown  sugar,  was  handed 

him,  with  the  apology  that  we  had  no  water  and  the 
,  .  , ,  .      , ,  Gen.  Grant  and 

lemonade  was  mst  such  as  we  gave  the  men  in  the      .,    ^    .    ,      7 

the  Contraband. 

hospitals.  The  General  drank  it  with  great  apparent 
relish,  thanked  us  for  it,  declared  it  could  not  be  better,  arid  shook 
hands  with  the  Delegates  who  crowded  around  him.  Asking  for  the 
accustomed  "  light,"  he  was  just  about  mounting  his  horse,  when  one 
of  our  negro  employes,  without  hat,  coat  or  vest,  elbowed  his  way 
through  the  crowd,  and  reaching  out  an  enormous  hand,  said — 


QUESTIONING    GENERAL     GRANT. 


"  How  de  do,  Gin'ral  Grant  ?" 

The  words  were  spoken  with  gentlemanly  deference,  and  the  man's 
whole  appearance  indicated  that  he  had  been  attracted  not  by  mere 


360  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

curiosity.  The  General  shook  the  proffered  hand  warmly.  The  man 
then  disclosed  the  purpose  of  his  approach : 

"  How  am  tings  goin',  Gin'ral  ?" 

To  appreciate  the  question  it  must  be  remembered  that  it  was  at  a 
time  of  great  depression  among  the  colored  people, — not  long  after 
the  fatal  mine  explosion  in  front  of  Petersburg.  The  simple  answer 
of  the  General  at  once  quieted  the  man's  fears : 

"  Everything  is  going  right,  sir." 

Politely  bowing  his  thanks,  his  eyes  meantime  beaming  gratitude, 
he  backed  out  of  the  circle  and  returned  to  his  work.  On  his  way 
back  I  met  him  and  asked  where  he  had  been : 

"  Been  to  see  Gin'ral  Grant,  sah." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  you  ?" 

"  Said  eberyting  was  goin'  right,  sah." 

Before  a  great  while  the  General's  Sybilline  sentence  was  known  by 
all  the  colored  people  near  City  Point ;  and  it  was  astonishing  to  ob 
serve  the  effect  which  the  simple  words  had  in  reviving  the  spirits  of 
those  who,  a  few  hours  before,  had  been  so  depressed  and  disheartened. 

Eev.  Geo.  N.  Marden  gives  a  colored  soldier's  idea  of 
the  cause  of  the  war : 

Joseph  Upcheer,  of  a  colored  regiment,  was  sick  at  City  Point  Post 
Hospital.  He  was  full  of  Christian  and  patriot  faith  : 

"  Some  say  dar's  no  God  in  dis  war.     But  I  puts  my  trust  in  de 

Lord,  an'  balls  don't  scare  me.     De  han'  ob  de  Lord 

Why  the  War      .    .      , 

Came.  IS  m  de  War' 

"  What  do  you  think  is  the  cause  of  it,  Joseph  ?" 
"  He  revolved  the  question  a  moment  and  then  said,  earnestly — 
"  So  much  unfair  work  am  de   cause  ob  de  war.     My  ole  uncle, 
who  died  twenty  year  ago,  put  his  han'  on  my  head  once,  and  says 
he,  '  Young  dog,  make  has'  and  grow.     Bimeby  you'll  have  a  gun 
and  fight.'     Wese  ben  'spectin'  dis  war,  sah ;  dere's  been  so  much 
unfair  work." 

Mr.  Edwin  Ferris,  of  New  York  City,  gives  his  ex 
perience  of  the  eagerness  of  the  men  to  learn : 


CITY   POINT.  361 

There  was  no  reserve,  no  cold  formality ;  the  greetings  I  received 
made  me  feel  at  home  at  once.  Young  and  old  were  alike  anxious 
for  instruction,  and  applied  themselves  so  assiduously  that  their  pro 
gress  was  very  rapid.1  One  day,  while  teaching  one 
of  them  his  letters,  he  found  it  difficult  keeping  them 
apart  before  his  unused  eyes.  I  shall  never  forget 
the  way  in  which  he  lifted  his  sleeve  and  drew  it  across  his  face 
dripping  with  perspiration — 

"  Massa,  dis  do  make  me  sweat." 

One  noble  old  Christian  soldier  said  to  me,  "  I  bless  de  good  Lord 
for  what  He's  helped  me  to  larn.  I'se  gwine  to  keep  on  right  smart. 
I'se  got  to  work  sharper'n  dese  young  uns,  case  I  hasn't  so  much  time 
lef '  to  study  in." 

One  more  incident  of  eagerness  to  learn  is  related  by 
Rev.  Mr.  Marden : 

February  14th  I  discovered,  within  two  stones'  throw  of  our  chapel 
at  City  Point,  a  nest  of  contrabands'  huts  on  the  edge  of  a  little 
ravine.     The  men  were  laborers  in  the  railroad  department.     The 
huts  were  of  the  cheapest  construction.     Two  or  three 
boxes,  the  same  number  of  old  barrels,  a  few  nails,  an      jYfmers^ 
old  boot-leg,  a  few  sticks  and  stones,  with  the  aid  of 
the  all-pervading  Virginia  mud,  constitute  the  dwellings.     An  old 
boot-leg  cut  up  makes  hinges,  on  which  swing,  for  window  and  door, 
some  painfully  dovetailed  bits  of  board. 

My  advent  was  the  signal  for  a  resurrection.  As  from  the  cap 
sules  of  certain  flowers  the  little  black  seeds  roll  out  when  the  cell 
is  broken,  so  from  the  patch-work  huts  the  dwellers  now  poured 
forth.  Each  one  wanted  a  book.  One  boy  of  eleven  years  read  so 
well  that  I  gave  him  a  Testament,  which  made  his  face  all  at  once 
like  the  "  countless  laughter"  of  JEschylus'  sea.  Mothers  came  beg 
ging  a  primer  for  their  children.  All  were  eager,  curious,  delighted. 


1  Mr.  Herbert  C.  Clapp,  of  Cambridge,  Mass.,  writing  from  Wild's  Station  in 
February,  gives  a  remarkable  instance  of  application  :  "  One  night  I  taught  a 
man  the  alphabet  and  a  few  elementary  principles.  The  next  evening  he  came 
to  me,  prepared  to  recite  one  half  the  spelling-book  I  had  given  him.  He  had 
studied  the  whole  day,  with  occasional  assistance  from  a  mate." 


362  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

One  grown  negro,  on  receiving  a  book,  gave  vent  to  a  guffaw,  the 
like  to  which  I  had  never  dreamed  the  human  throat  capable  of. 
The  women,  unselfish  as  ever,  seemed  more  anxious  to  get  the 
primers  for  their  children  than  for  themselves. 

Mr.  C.  E.  Bolton,1  a  Delegate  to  the  army  in  July 
and  August,  1864,  tells  a  striking  story  of  the  attach 
ment  of  the  colored  soldier  to  the  Bible  : 

"William  and  Thomas  Freeman  were  brothers,  living  in  Connecti 
cut  at  the  outbreak  of  the  war.  They  enlisted  in  the  30th  Regiment 
U.  S.  C.  T.,  and  were  afterwards  transferred  to  the  31st.  At  the 

close  of  the  first  day's  battle  in  the  Wilderness,  thev 
The  Brothers1 

together  entered  a  large  house,  once  the  property  of 


an  extensive  slaveholder.  Several  slave  women  in 
the  dwelling  were  nearly  famished  with  hunger.  The  soldiers  kindly 
relieved  their  wants  by  emptying  their  haversacks  of  all  their  rations. 
The  only  return  which  the  women  could  make  was  the  presentation 
to  William  Freeman  of  a  large,  finely-bound  and  beautifully  clasped 
quarto  Bible,  weighing  about  nine  pounds.  Thomas  and  William 
were  both  Christians,  and  valued  the  gift  very  highly.  It  took  the 
place  of  blankets  in  William's  knapsack.  He  carried  it  through 
all  the  marches  to  the  entrenchments  of  Petersburg.  There  he  went 
into  the  fatal  charge  of  July  30th,  after  the  mine  explosion,  and  was 
wounded  in  the  breast.  The  great  Bible  went  with  him  into  the  bat 
tle  in  his  knapsack.  He  would  never  allow  it  to  be  beyond  his  reach. 
His  brother  Thomas,  who  was  a  Color  Sergeant,  was  wounded  in  the 
same  engagement.  He  was  among  the  few  who  struggled  beyond  the 
chasm  made  by  the  mine,  and  was  carried  back  to  find  his  brother 
dead.  As  the  men  were  bearing  him  further  on  towards  the  rear,  he 
begged  that  his  brother's  knapsack  might  be  placed  upon  the  stretcher 
under  his  head.  Thus  the  precious  book  reached  the  hospital  of  the 
4th  Division  of  the  Ninth  Corps,  where  I  was  working  in  the  Com 
mission  service. 

William  was  buried  between  the  picket  lines  under  a  flag  of  truce. 


1  A  Student  of  Amherst  College,  Mass.     He  was  accompanied  to  the  army  by 
Profs.  Seelve  and  Hitchcock. 


CITY    POINT.  363 

Poor  Thomas'  wounds  soon  were  discovered  to  be  mortal  also.  Weak 
and  worn  out,  he  was  taken  after  a  few  days  to  the  General  Hospital 
at  City  Point.  Sergeant  Edward  P.  Gilbert,  of  Bath,  K  Y.,  was  a 
wardmaster  of  our  hospital.  To  him,  as  Thomas  left  for  City  Point, 
he  sold  the  cherished  volume. 

A  few  days  later  this  book,  representing  so  much  faith  and  hero 
ism,  became  mine  by  purchase,  and  was  afterwards  given  to  Amherst 
College.  President  Stearns,  in  receiving  it  on  behalf  of  the  Trus 
tees,  remarked — 

"  I  consider  it  one  of  the  most  valuable  reminiscences  of  the  war, 
presented  to  the  College."  The  book  has  now  a  prominent  place  in 
the  show-case  of  the  "Appleton  Cabinet"  at  Amherst. 

Another  leaf  from  Rev.  Mr.  Marden's  experience 
shows  us  how  in  the  last  hour  the  colored  soldier  could 
exercise  the  same  trust  with  his  white  brother : 

I  met  Thomas  Jackson  Yager  in  one  of  the  City  Point  wards.  He 
looked  up  at  me  with  a  smile  when  he  saw  my  badge,  and  gave  me 
his  hand,  thin  and  hard  worn  with  years  of  unre- 

quitedtoil:  "Gi™<>  ,  «P 

1  when    the    Lord 

"  Do  you  love  the  Lord,  Thomas  ?"  does." 

"  I  does  love  Him ;  He's  all  to  me.     I'se  happy 
lyin'  here, — full  ob  joy  an'  praise.      I  pray  de  Lord,  bless  you  in 
your  work." 

"  Where  are  you  from,  Thomas  ?" 

"  I'se  from  Lagrange,  in  old  Kentuck.  I  come  into  de  army  to 
fight  for  freedom.  Lef  my  wife  and  de  chile  behin'  me,  an'  I  dunno 
how  dey  treat  her.  But  de  Lord's  been  good  to  me,  and  I  doesn't 
feel  like  nuffin'  but  tanks." 

A  fortnight  later  I  meet  him  again.  His  cheeks  are  sunken,  and 
his  eye  dimmer  than  before.  I  take  his  hand  again,  and  he  begins 
to  talk : 

"  My  time  won't  be  long  heah.  All  my  trust  is  in  de  Lord.  I 
beliebe  the  Lord  is  waitin'  for  me.  I'se  weak,  but  I'se  ready  to  go. 
Wish  I  could  git  a  letter  from  my  wife ;  I'se  like  to  know  how  she's 
gittin'  'long.  She  wa'n't  a  Christian  when  I  lef,  but  it  looked 


364  CHKISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

mighty  like  es  if  she  wanted  to  be  one.  I'll  never  be  of  much  more 
'count  heah ;  but  I  hate  to  gib  up  'fore  de  Lord  gibs  up ;  when  He  says 
I  kin  live  no  more,  den  Tse  ready  to  gib  up." 

A  little  later,  the  Christian  soldier  had  gone  away  to  his  everlast 
ing  rest. 

The  story  of  a  conversation  between  a  colored  Ser 
geant,  and  Rev.  E.  P.  Smith,  the  General  Field  Agent 
of  the  Western  Army,  while  on  a  visit  to  the  East,  may 
give  a  little  insight  into  the  depth  of  the  motives  which 
animated  the  negro  soldiers : 

On  the  steamer  from  City  Point  to  Fortress  Monroe,  I  came  on  a 
group  of  negro  soldiers  in  friendly  conversation  and  banter  with  sev 
eral  white  artillerymen.     They  were  all  on  a  furlough,  and  conse 
quently  good-natured.     The  colored  men  were  going 

A  Colored Ser-  __     „  ..        .        _      ,  . 

geant's  Opinions.     to  -Norfolk  5  tne7  had  been  selected  for  merit  as  enti 
tled  to  a  furlough.     One  was  a  Sergeant  in  the  36th 
U.  S.  C.  Infantry, — a  fine,  open-faced,  well-formed  man  of  twenty- 
seven  or  eight  years,  wearing  his  belt  and  sword. 

He  heard  the  conversation  on  fighting  men,  high  bounties,  etc.,  in 
silence,  until  a  batteryman  turning  to  him  asked —  , 

"  What  bounty  did  you  get  ?" 

"  No  bounty.  I  wouldn't  'list  for  bounty.  I  have  twenty-three 
more  months  to  put  in.  I  don't  say  I  will  go  in  again  when  that's 
out ;  can't  say  till  the  time  comes  ;  but,  if  I  do,  it  won't  be  for  bounty. 
I  wouldn't  fight  for  money ;  my  wages  is  enough." 

"  How  much  pay  do  you  get  ?" 

"  Seven  dollars  a  month,  till  they  riz  to  sixteen.  That  keeps  me 
along  right  smart.  Them  big-bounty  men  don't  make  good  soldiers." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  them  ?" 

"Dey  comes  in  for  money;  dar's  no  Country  'bout  it,  an'  cley  hasn't 
no  stomach  for  fightin'  an'  diggin'  an'  knockin'  roun',  like  soldiers 
has  to." 

"  What's  money  got  to  do  with  that  ?  Why  can't  a  man  fight  just 
as  well  if  he  leaves  a  thousand  dollars  in  bank,  to  have  when  he 
comes  back, — 'maybe  sick  or  wounded  ?" 


ON   THE   JAMES.  365 

"  Well,  he  mout ;  but  y'  see  it's  the  greenbacks  wot  fetches  him 
in,  an'  he  keeps  studyin'  how  he  .can  jump  for  anoder  bounty;  an' 
dem  sort  of  sojers  ain't  no  count  for  fightin'." 

"  Sergeant,  didn't  you  enlist  'cause  you  had  run  away  from  master, 
and  had  no  place  ?" 

"  No,  sir," — with  spirit ;  "  I  had  a  place  an'  good  wages, — heap 
more'n  a  sojer  gits, — drivin'  team  for  Quartermaster ;  an'  when  I 
told  'm  I  was  goin'  in,  an'  wanted  my  back  pay,  he  cussed  me,  an' 
said  I  shouldn't  'list.  I  told  him  I  had  a  right,  an'  I  would,  an'  all 
I  asked  of  him  was  to  pay  wot  was  comin'  to  me — more'n  two  hun 
dred  dollars.  He  swar  an'  took  on  'bout  'restin'  me,  an'  nex'  day 
when  I  had  'listed,  he  saw  me  on  the  street,  an'  called  a  guard,  an' 
put  me  in  irons  ten  hours.  Dat's  my  bounty,  two  hundred  dollars — 
wages — gin  up,  an'  ten  hours  in  irons  by  a  Copperhead  Quarter 
master." 

The  soldiers  had  gathered  around,  highly  interested  in  the  Ser 
geant's  straightforward,  earnest  story. 

"  I'd  a  split  his  copper  head  open  with  the  irons,"  said  one  of 
them. 

"Dat's  not  me,"  said  the  Sergeant;  "I  don't  take  vengeance — dat's 
God's  business,  an'  He'll  work  it  to  suit  Hisself." 

The  men  drew  back  a  little,  and  were  silent  all  round  the  ring.  I 
stepped  forward,  and  said  to  him — 

"  Sergeant,  how  long  have  you  been  a  Christian  ?" 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  full,  quick  eye,  as  if  he  had  found  a 
brother : 

"  Ten  years,  sir." 

"  How  old  are  you  ?" 

"  Twenty-eight,  sir." 

"  Then  you  were  converted  when  you  were  eighteen  years  old. 
Where  did  you  live?" 

"  Near  Richmond." 

"  Have  you  a  wife  ?" 

"  Yes ;  I  lef '  my  wife  an'  son  when  McClellan  come  close  up  to 
Richmond,  an'  everybody  reckoned  he  was  goin'  to  walk  in." 

"  How  old  is  your  son  ?" 

"  Not  quite  a  year  when  I  got  away." 

"  Do  you  hear  from  them  ?" 


366  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Yes ;  I  seen  a  lady  from  thar  in  Norfolk,  an'  she  said,  mas'er 
done  an'  sol'  Nancy  an'  the  boy." 

"  You  will  hardly  see  them  again,  will  you  ?" 

"  When  dey  git  done  fightin',  I  reckon  I  kin  find  her." 

"  But  you  won't  know  where  to  look." 

"  Den  I'll  keep  lookin',  an'  I  reckon  I'll  find  'em.  Anyhow,  I 
trust  in  Providence  'bout  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

"  I  mean  de  Lord  God  A'rnighty ;  He  knows  all  'bout  it,  an'  He 
will  do  what's  right." 

"  Yes,  Sergeant,  the  Lord  may  do  what's  right,  but  the  man  who 
has  bought  Nancy  and  your  baby  and  carried  them  off,  may  not  do 
what's  right  about  it.  What  then  ?" 

"  Why,  den,  I  reckon  dat's  for  Him  to  settle  'bout.  I'se  nuffin'  to 
do  wid  dat." 

"  You  are  pretty  near  your  master ;  he  might  be  looking  for  you 
one  of  these  days." 

"  Yes,  he  mout ;  an'  den,  y'  see,  I  mout  be  lookin'  for  him.  Chance 
the  same  on  bof  sides  now.  They  say  my  master  was  'scripted  an' 
had  to  go  in." 

"  Perhaps,  you  will  have  a  chance  yet  to  pay  him  back,"  said  the 
batteryman. 

"I  never  pays  back.  De  Lord  A'mighty  takes  the  vengeance. 
Dat's  Hissen,  an'  I  don't  have  nuffin'  to  do  wid  it." 

"  There's  his  doctrine  again.  Don't  he  stick  to  his  text  ?"  says  a 
Pittsburg  soldier.  "  He's  right,  too,  all  the  time,"  says  another. 

"  Don't  know  about  the  right,"  called  a  voice  across  the  ring,  "but 
he's  bully  on  consistence." 

"  Well  Sergeant,  have  you  really  made  much  by  running  away?" 

"  Made  much  ?  I  made  two  hundred  dollars  in  Norfolk,  but  didn't 
git  it." 

"  I  mean  you  are  not  much  better  off  soldiering,  lying  out  in  the 
wet,  digging  in  the  trenches,  and  going  in  where  the  minie  balls  hum. 
That's  not  much  better  than  to  be  at  home  on  the  old  plantation  with 
wife  and  baby." 

"  Sojerin'  is  hard  work,  but  dere's  a  heap  of  difference." 

"  What's  the  difference?" 

"  Freedom,  sir,  Freedom !     I  say  '  Liberty'  in   '  Dutch  Gap/     I 


ON    THE   JAMES.  367 

wakes  up  in  the  night  and  says  '  Liberty.'  Yes,  there's  a  heap  of 
difference.  I  kin  say  Liberty  all  the  time." 

"  You  said  you  enlisted  for  your  Country.  What  has  your  Coun 
try  done  for  you  except  to  give  you  a  chance  to  make  tobacco  and 
cotton  for  your  master,  and  have  your  wife  and  baby  sold  down  in 
Georgia?" 

"  God  has  done  a  heap  for  me.  He  has  given  me  my  life.  I  never 
had  no  sickness,  an'  now  He's  done  an'  made  me  free,  an'  I'm 
willin'  to  fight  for  the  rest  of  'em." 

"  Sergeant,'  said  a  white  soldier,  "  do  you  know  that  you  are  just 
like  Jeff  Davis  on  the  war  question  ?" 

"  Not  much,  I  reckon." 

"  Exactly  alike ; — you  are  both  fighting  for  the  '  nigger.'  " 

"  Dat  may  be,  but  it  makes  a  heap  of  odds  to  which  whips." 

"  Do  you  think  Jeff  will  put  the  colored  men  in  ?"  he  asked. 

"  He  is  doing  it  now.  It  will  not  be  long  before  a  corps  of  those 
black  fellows  will  be  down  on  the  '  right,'  to  drive  you  Twenty-fifth 
Corps  men  into  the  river.  What  will  you  do  then  ?" 

"  If  I  should  see  my  father  in  the  Rebel  army,  I  should  shoot  him. 
He  got  no  business  dar.  Dar's  some  cullud  people  got  no  sense. 
Rebels  has  talked  foolishness  to  'em  so  much,  you  can't  beat  sense 
into  'em.  I'se  no  use  for  dat  sort  cullud  folks.  I  fight  for  the  '  nig 
ger'  when  he's  right." 

"  Bully  for  him !"  came  from  a  dozen  lips  of  soldiers  gathered 
round.  My  thankful  heart  said,  "  God  be  praised  for  such  piety  and 
patriotism !" 

At  Fortress  Monroe,  on  parting  from  the  Sergeant  who  was  going 
to  the  Norfolk  boat,  I  offered  a  prayer  for  the  mother  and  baby  far 
away,  and  that  a  Country,  saved  by  such  devotion,  may  learn  at 
last  to  deal  justly  by  all  her  children. 

Rev.  C.  D.  Herbert,1  writing  in  September  from  the 
Base  Hospital  of  the  Eighteenth  Army  Corps,  preserves 
this  memorial  of  a  colored  soldier's  sacrifice : 

In  the  knapsack  of  a  dead  colored  soldier,  I  found  a  letter  written 


Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  W.  Newbury,  Mass. 


368  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

some  days  before,  with  a  postscript  added  on  the  day  of  his  death. 
It  seems  that  when  first  brought  into  hospital,  before  he  knew  of  the 

nature  of  his  wounds   and  while  expecting  to  re- 
Volunteered  to  , 

cover,  he  wrote — 
Die. 

"  When  this  cruel  war  is  over  I  hope  to  meet  with 

the  dear  friends  I  so  much  love.  Fond  memory  brings  back  days 
gone  by,  and  I  hope  to  return  to  a  blessed  joyfulness  in  my  once 
happy  home.  I  feel  anxious  to  serve  you,  O  my  dear  country,  but  I 
am  weak  with  infirmities.  May  God  heal  me,  is  my  prayer  in  this 
army,  and  make  me  a  soldier  of  the  cross,  and  clean  my  heart  of  all 
its  sins  in  the  world ;  for  Christ's  sake.  Amen. 

"JoHNC.  WHITEN." 

When  he  learned  how  badly  he  was  wounded,  and  that  he  must 
die,  he  took  the  letter  from  beneath  his  pillow,  and  added  this  touch 
ing  postscript : 

"  Most  sincerely  yours — departed  ;  John  C.  W.  —  Volunteered  to 
die." 

My  letter,  breaking  the  sad  intelligence  as  gently  as  I  knew  how, 
enclosed  also  the  patriot's  last  letter  to  wife  and  children,  with  its 
postscript. 

Rev.  A.  Fuller1  records  two  incidents  of  the  memo 
rable  Sunday  on  which  our  army  broke  through  the 
Confederate  lines  around  Petersburg.  They  are  a  type 
of  the  triumph  of  the  cause  : 

The  fighting  just  in  front  of  us,  around  three  or  four  forts,  had 

been  desperate,  and  both  parties  had  suffered  severely.     Among  our 

own  and  the  Confederate  wounded  we  had  all  that  we  could  do  until 

late  at  night.    Near  evening  the  boom  of  the  cannon, 

which  since  the  previous  midnight  had  been  almost 

constantly  rending  the  air,  had  ceased,  and  even  the  scattering  shots 

of  scouts  and  skirmishers  had  gradually  died  away.     The  troops  had 

stacked  their  arms,  and  were  eagerly  talking  over  their  coffee  of  the 

events  of  the  day,  or  planning  campaigns  for  the  future.     The  bands, 

gathered  about  the  flags  of  their  respective  regiments  or  brigades, 

1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Hallowell,  Me. 


PETERSBURG.  369 

were  filling  the  air  with  music.  The  warm  April  sun,  breaking 
through  the  clouds  which  lay  heavily  along  the  west,  was  adding  the 
glory  of  its  beams  to  crown  the  glory  of  the  day. 

The  effect  was  marvellous.  The  quiet,  solemn  stillness  of  the  hour, 
which  the  melody  of  the  bands  seemed  only  to  render  rythmical  and 
deeper,  was  in  such  strange  contrast  with  the  strife  and  carnage  of 
the  day,  that  it  would  be  hard  to  describe  the  attendant  emotions. 
It  was  a  time  neither  of  war  nor  yet  of  peace ;  it  was  the  hour  of  pre 
cious,  hallowed,  but  costly  victory,  and  many  a  weary  head  was 
turned  feebly  but  eagerly  on  its  bloody  pillow  of  turf,  to  look  upon 
the  scene  and  listen  to  the  softened  notes  of  triumph, — until  earthly 
sights  and  sounds  were  lost  in  the  beauty  and  melody  of  the  Other 
Land. 

As  I  was  resting  a  moment  in  my  work,  a  band  at  army  headquar 
ters  near  us  suddenly  struck  up  one  of  our  most  spirited  national 
airs.  There  was  a  Union  soldier  lying  near  me,  whom  I  had  supposed 
past  all  earthly  waking.  At  the  first  note  of  the  music  he  started 
arid  gazed  wildly  about  him,  as  if  trying  to  understand  where  he  was. 
With  a  great  effort  raising  himself  on  his  elbow,  he  looked  eagerly 
at  me,  and  half  fiercely,  half  pleadingly,  asked — 

"  Is  that  a  Kebel  band,  sir?" 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  that's  Union  all  through.  Don't  you  hear  the  air? 
The  Kebels  are  a  long  way  from  here.  We  have  carried  their  whole 
line  of  works." 

He  looked  somewhat  incredulously  at  me,  as  if  it  was  almost  too 
much  to  believe ;  and  then,  as  he  saw  and  heard  more  distinctly  for 
himself,  and  drank  in  gradually  all  of  the  truth,  his  whole  countenance 
kindled  up  with  enthusiasm.  Looking  reverently  towards  heaven,  he 
said  with  a  voice  of  the  deepest  solemnity  and  fervor — 

"  Glory  to  God  !  It's  all  I  ask.  You  may  do  what  you  like  with 
me  now,"  and  without  another  earthly  word,  he  sank  back  and  died. 

Long  after  dark  by  the  aid  of  lanterns,  we  were  groping  about  to 
seek  for  any  who  might  be  still  left  without  proper  care,  when  I 
almost  stumbled  over  a   man  lying  by  himself  in 
great  agony.     His  leg  had  been  shattered  by  a  piece       ~  ^ 
of  shell,  which  had  struck  him  midway  between  the 
knee  and  hip  joints.     I  had  him  carried  to  a  Surgeon's  table,  where 
his  leg  was  amputated. 

24 


370  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Ill  the  morning  when  he  had  somewhat  recovered  from  the  severe 
operation  he  had  undergone,  I  carried  him  some  food  and  drink.  He 
was  very  grateful  for  the  little  attention.  He  had  been  the  slave  of 
a  gentleman  near  Norfolk,  where  his  wife,  mother  and  children  were 
still  living.  Escaping  from  his  master  to  the  Union  lines,  he  was  one 
of  the  first  to  enlist  in  our  army.  He  was  a  Christian,  and  had  be 
come  a  soldier  from  a  deep  sense  of  duty  to  his  race.  Wounded  the 
day  before  the  general  engagement,  he  had  lain  on  the  field,  uncared 
for,  with  wounds  undressed,  and  in  great  bodily  agony. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  you  did  not  expect  this  when  you  enlisted,  did 
you  ?  If  you  were  at  home  and  well,  would  you  come  back  again  ?" 

He  seemed  moved  at  the  thought  of  home,  but  with  deep  emphasis 
he  quickly  replied — 

"  Yes,  sah ;  yes,  I  wTould.  I  specs  all  dis  when  I  'listed.  I  specs  to 
suffer.  I  specs  now  I'll  die ;  but,  bress  de  Lord,  I'se  free,  an'  Susy 
an'  de  chillens  free,  an'  I'se  ready  to  die,  ef  de  Lord  will." 

I  offered  a  brief  prayer  and  left  him,  never  to  see  him  again,  and 
yet  ever  to  remember  the  sable  hero,  so  worthy  to  be  an  American 
citizen. 

The  Commission  made  full  preparations  for  the  emer 
gencies  which  might  arise  during  the  pursuit  of  Gen. 
Lee.  Happily  there  was  not  all  of  the  anticipated  need. 
The  Christian  Banner,  of  August,  1865,  relates  a  story 
told  by  Gen.  Edwards,  of  the  battle  of  Sailor's  Creek, 
fought  on  April  7th  : 

In   the  very  thickest  of  the  fight,  C.  F.   Drake,  of  Co.  B,  37th 
Massachusetts  Regiment,  ordered  a  Rebel  Colonel  to  surrender.     He 
replied  that  he  would  never  surrender.    Drake  then  shot  him,  inflict 
ing  a  mortal  wound.     The  Colonel  fell,  exclaiming 
Fnemies "  ^na^  ^1C  was  killed.     Drake  said  to  him,  "  I  am  a 

Christian,  and  will  pray  for  you."  The  Colonel 
thanked  him,  and  Drake  kneeled  by  his  side  and  prayed  with  him, 
while  the  conflict  raged  almost  hand  to  hand  around  them.  The 
Colonel  pressed  his  hand,  called  him  brother,  told  him  that  he  too 
was  a  Christian,  and  thanked  him.  Then  Drake  resumed  his  gun 
and  went  on  fighting. 


CITY    POItfT.  371 

The  main  body  of  the  Army,  after  the  surrender, 
took  up  its  line  of  march  for  Washington.  Commission 
stations  were  retained,  and  work  kept  up  among  the 
troops  remaining  in  the  vicinity  of  the  recent  events. 
With  a  narrative  illustrating  this,  by  Rev.  J.  H.  Moore, 
we  close  the  memorial  incidents  of  the  active  operations 
of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 

It  might  be  supposed  that  these  great  events,  so  exciting  in  their 
nature,  would  destroy  the  religious  interest  which  was  so  remarkably 
manifest  in  the  army  previous  to  the  advance.    But  such  was  not  the 
i'act.      True,  for  a  few  days,  nearly  all  the  troops 
around  City  Point  were  away  in  the  battles,  and       ™      ^  Alone 
our  chapel  services,  for  the  time  being,  were  almost 
deserted  by  the  soldiers ;   but  when   Richmond  fell,  the  regiments 
which  had  been  encamped  here  came  back,  and  soon  filled  up  the 
chapel  again. 

A  soldier,  whom  I  had  often  seen  before  at  our  services,  came  for 
ward  one  evening,  and  told  me  that  his  most  intimate  companion, 
who  used  always  to  attend  the  meetings  with  him,  had  fallen  in  the 
fighting  before  Petersburg. 

"  He  was  my  dearest  friend  in  the  army,"  the  soldier  said ;  "  he 
was  the  instrument  in  my  conversion.  I  remember  how  mad  I  used 
to  get  when  he  knelt  down  and  prayed  in  our  tent,  before  going  to 
bed.  I  used  to  turn  over  and  try  to  go  to  sleep  and  forget  all  about 
him.  I  held  out  a  good  while,  but  had  to  give  in  at  last.  So  I  be 
gan  to  pray  too.  We  prayed  together  afterwards,  and  came  here 
together.  The  last  thing  he  did  before  going  to  the  front  was  to 
kneel  down  and  commit  himself  to  God  in  our  old  tent.  He  fell 
dead  at  my  side  on  the  field ;  and  now  I  have  to  come  to  chapel 
alone." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

THE    EASTERN   ARMIES. 

OPERATING  NEAR  WASHINGTON  AND  HARPER'S  FERRY. 
June  1864— June  1865. 

THE  advance  of  Gen.  Grant's  army  gave  an  immense 
increase  to  the  Delegates'  work  in  the  Washington  hos 
pitals.  Thither,  when  Fredericksburg  was  abandoned, 
were  brought  the  wounded  of  the  earlier  battles  of  the 
great  campaign.  Camp  Distribution,  the  point  of  de 
parture  for  the  convalescents  of  the  hospitals,  was  well 
filled,  and  here  was  continued  the  blessed  work  of  grace, 
begun  so  long  before,  until  the  return  of  the  victorious 
armies  and  the  close  of  the  Commission's  operations. 

llev.  J.  W.  Hough1  writes  from  the  camp  in  June, 
1864: 

One  of  our  candidates  for  baptism  had  been,  to  use  his  own  words, 
"  a  very  hard  boy."  Some  months  before,  he  had  been  confined  in 
the  guard-house  for  a  misdemeanor,  and  on  coming  out  he  was 

ashamed   to   mingle  with    his   comrades,   lest   they 
"WJmt  Right 
Have  If  should  taunt  him  with  his  disgrace.     He  determined 

to  find  something  to  read.  Entering  the  barracks, 
he  picked  up  a  volume  put  there  by  the  Commission, — Baxter's  "Call 
to  the  Unconverted." 

"  I  was  mad,"  said  he,  "  when  I  found  it  to  be  a  religious  book, 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Williston,  Vt. 
372 


CAMP    DISTHIBUTIO^.  373 

and  threw  it  from  me.  But  afterwards,  when  I  could  find  nothing 
else,  I  picked  it  up  again,  and  lay  down  to  read.  It  interested  and 
impressed  me  at  once.  The  question  came  to  me,  '  What  right  have 
I  to  treat  God  as  I  do?  He  has  never  injured  me.'  I  was  very 
much  troubled,  and  so  continued  a  long  time,  till  I  began  to  think 
less  of  myself  and  more  of  Jesus ;  and  then  His  love  came  into  my 
heart." 

On  the  clay  of  his  discharge  from  the  camp,  he  entered  publicly 
into  covenant  with  Christ. 

Rev.  Milton  L.  Severance1  has  preserved  a  soldier's 
straightforward  form  for  expressing  his  thought : 

The  apostle  says,  "  By  this  shall  ye  know  that  ye  have  passed  from 
death  unto  life,  because  ye  love  the  brethren,"  and  I  have  never  seen 
a  livelier  test  of  this  than  a  colored  soldier  gave  at  the  close  of  one 
of  our  evening  meetings.     There  was  a  simplicity 
in  his  expression  and  manner  which  touched  all  our 
hearts : 

"  I  love  my  Saviour,  I  love  the  Church. of  Christ,  I  love  the  world, 
I  love  everybody,  I  love  them  that  don't  love  me." 

I  felt  that  the  poor  son  of  Africa  had  reached  the  climax  of  Chris- 
1  ian  experience.  Like  the  martyred  Stephen,  and  his  Saviour  before 
him,  he  could  pray  for  those  who  had  despitefully  used  him. 

Rev.  Dr.  C.  W.  Wallace,2  in  December,  writes  • 

One  Sabbath  morning  at  the  camp,  I  met  a  boy  at  my  door,  -wait 
ing  to  see  a  Delegate.     Poor  little  fellow,  what  a  life  he  had  had ! 
His  parents  died  when  he  was  quite  young,  in  New  York  city.     He 
fell  to  the  care  of  a  brother,  a  most  abandoned  man. 
There  was  no  one  really  to  care  for  his  welfare  ;  the          ,.      QU? 
only  faint  bond  between  him  and  anything  higher 
was  the  dim  remembrance  he  retained  of  a  good  mother.     For  years 
he  was  a  street  "Arab,"  sleeping  at  night  in  boxes  and  doorways, — 
anywhere  to  escape  Summer  heat  and  Winter  cold.     His  food  was 

1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Boscawen,  N.  H. 

2  Pastor  of  First  Congregational  Church,  Manchester,  N.  H. 


374  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

picked  up  in  various  indefinite  ways.  In  his  fifteenth  year  he  entered 
the  army.  I  found  him  to  be  a  sincere  inquirer  for  the  truth. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  he  said.  "Since  I  was  a  boy  I've  done 
nothino-  but  swear  and  steal  and  everything  else  that's  bad,  and  now 
to  try  to  be  good, — it's  very  hard." 

The  poor  fellow  in  his  ignorance  would  weep,  and  put  his  hands 
out  gropingly  for  the  better  way,  but  it  was  hard  to  direct  him  to 
Christ  in  a  manner  which  he  could  understand.  The  few  times  I  saw 
him  he  would  come  to  the  place  of  prayer,  and  bow  himself  very 
humbly  among  the  others ;  but  he  was  soon  ordered  to  the  front,  and 
I  met  him  no  more.  His  strange,  pitiful  face  and  earnest  cry  for  the 
truth  deeply  impressed  me.  They  must  surely  have  found  an 
answer. 

The  permanent  Agent  in  charge  of  the  Commission's 
work  of  the  camp  was  Rev.  Jas.  P.  Fisher.1     From  the 
t   final  report  prepared  by  his  wife  after  his  death,  we 
select  the  following  incidents  : 

A  soldier  rose  one  evening  and  told  his  story : 

"  My  friends,  I  left  home  an  infidel,  but  I  left  a  praying  wife.  A 
week  ago  I  received  a  letter  from  her,  in  which  she  expressed  anxiety 
for  the  welfare  of  my  soul,  and  desired  to  know  if  I  still  held  to  my 

old  views.     I  wrote  an  answer,  and  in  bitter  words 

The  Re-written  .  .  AT  i,  i 

,.  defended  my  old  position.     As  I  was  about  to  seal 

the  letter,  it  seemed  to  me  I  could  not  send  it.  I 
wrote  another,  softened  down  considerably  from  the  first;  but  when 
that  was  done,  I  could  not  send  it.  I  began  another,  but  such  was 
the  power  of  the  Spirit  upon  my  heart,  that  I  fell  upon  my  knees, 
and  begged  for  forgiveness  before  God.  I  could  not  finish  the  letter 
until  I  could  say  to  my  dear  wife  that  Christ  had  forgiven  my  sins. 
I  have  been  permitted  to  write  to  her  that  I  am  to-night  rejoicing  in 
her  Saviour.  I  feel  that  I  am  now  prepared  for  the  battle-field,  and, 
if  I  am  ever  permitted  to  return  home,  I  trust  I  shall  go  back  pre 
pared  for  that  also — a  better  man  than  when  I  came  into  the  army." 
Another  comes  to  tell  of  the  preserving  care: 


1  Of  Westfield,  X.  Y. 


CAMP    DISTRIBUTION.  375 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  tink  it  not  right,  when  I  ray  God  not  tank.  He  cares 
for  me ;  the  bullets  go  through  my  clothes,  and  hurt  me  no.  I  must 
mend  my  sleeve  and  my  blouse  in  the  side  and  in  the  front.  Oh,  yes; 
I  must  love  my  God,  and  keep  fast  to  the  Christian. 

And  my  heart  pull  me  so  heavy  sometimes,  when  de 

J  could  not  be  told. 

priest  say  we  shall  get  up  in  der  meeting  and  say 
someting,  and  I  no  can  speak  goot  English." 

"  You  can  say  you  love  Jesus." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  have  say  dat,  and  keep  say  dat  all  der  time." 

From  Mrs.  Fisher's  own  experience, — a  peculiarly 
rich  one, — we  take  a  story  of  the  hospital  connected  with 
the  camp : 

On  one  of  my  visits,  after  staying  over  my  time  to  speak  to  nearly 
all  in  the  ward,  I  was  hastening  out ;  but  the  sad,  despairing  look 
from  a  cot  I  was  passing  so  impressed  me  that  I  returned.  To  my 

inquiry  after  the  soldier's  health,  he  answered — 

,  -~T        T,        .  T     i        T    i      >  The  Forgotten 

Yes  ;  1m  sick,  but  1  don  t  care.  „    .       r»     7,  „, 

Saviour  .Recalled. 

"Do  you  love  Jesus ?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  do."  9 

"  Have  you  a  wife  ?" 

"  No,  she  died  on  the  way  to ." 

"Children?" 

"  They  died,  the  only  two  I  had." 

"Parents?" 

"  No,  they  died  in ;  and  as  for  me,  I  don't  care  what  becomes 

of  me." 

"  Poor  soldier,"  said  I,  "  how  sorry  I  am  for  you  !  No  friends  on 
earth ;  no  Friend  in  heaven !  You  are  indeed  to  be  pitied.  But 
hear  what  the  Saviour  says  to  you ;  *  Ye  believe  in  God ;  believe  also 
in  Me.  In  My  Father's  house  are  many  mansions.' "  I  repeated 
through  the  sixth  verse.  Gradually  the  look  of  despair  gave  way, 
and  he  said  slowly,  in  low  tones — 

"  That  is  beautiful ;  that  is  very  beautiful.     Where  is  it?" 

I  told  him  the  chapter.  He  reached  under  his  pillow  for  his  Tes 
tament,  found  the  place  and  asked  me  to  mark  it.  We  read  it  over 


376  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

together,  he  following  every  word  in  his  Testament  with  a  wonderful 
eagerness  and  interest : 

"  Xow,  my  boy,  does  not  that  Saviour  love  and  care  for  you?" 

"  Yes.     I  had  forgotten  Him  in  my  trouble," 

"  Don't  you  want  to  come  to  Him  and  trust  Him  now  ?" 

"  I'll  try." 

Iii  June,  1865,  worn  out  with  incessant  toil,  Mr. 
Fisher  left  his  work  at  the  camp.  He  reached  the  home 
of  his  brother-in-law  in  Newburg,  N.  Y.,  and  unable  to 
go  further,  sank  and  died. 

Some  of  the   scenes    of  his  last   days   were   touch  in gly  beautiful. 
Like  so  many  others  of  the  Commission  who  have  died  in  the  ser 
vice,  when  his  mind  wandered,  all  his  thoughts  were  on  his  work  for 
the  soldiers.     He  was  preaching,  praying   and  ex 
horting.     In  his  lucid  intervals  his  mind  turned  at 
an  Offered  Life. 

once  to  Jesus  and  heaven,  a  beautiful  alternation 
and  combining  of  the  Christian's  work  and  faith.  The  change  from 
delirium  was  marked  by  a  desire  to  get  upon  his  knees  and  offer 
prayer.  He  loved  to  be  on  his  knees.  His  supplications  had  little 
reference  to  himself,  except  ffcr  purification  from  sin. 

"  Last  night,"  said  he,  in  troubled  sleep,  "  wras  the  great  night  of 
the  feast.  Jesus  stood  and  cried,  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come 
unto  Me." 

In  a  conscious  state,  he  said  to  his  son — "  My  son,  there  is  one 
passage  of  Scripture  I  wish  to  impress  on  your  mind.  I  adopted  it 
many  years  ago  to  die  upon  :  '  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  His  Son, 
cleanseth  from  all  sin.'" 

On  the  last  day  of  his  sickness  he  called  in  his  sleep,  "  Frank, 
ring  the  bell;  it  is  time  for  meeting;  I  am  to  preach  to-night.  Is 
everything  ready, — ready  for  the  celebration  of  His  dying  love  ?" 

And  so  he  passed  on,  not  to  the  preaching  in  a  rude  chapel  at 
Camp  Distribution,  but  to  the  praise  where  God  is  the  temple. 
Everything  was  ready,  and  our  dear  brother  celebrates  the  dying 
love. 

The  Confederate  Gen.  Early  in  July,  1864,  made  a 


AFTER    FORT   STEVENS.  377 

raid  into  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania  from  the  Shenan- 
doah  Valley.  He  succeeded  in  thoroughly  alarming 
Washington  and  Baltimore,  and  but  little  more.  Mr. 
II.  M.  Whitney1  tells  an  incident  occurring  shortly 
after : 

Before  leaving  home,  a  little  girl  had  given  me  ten  cents,  the  first 
money  she  had  ever  earned,  and  wanted  me  to  use  it  for  the  soldiers. 
I  bought  a  Testament  and  determined  to  give  it  to  the  manliest  and 
most  deserving  soldier  I  met.     For  a  long  while  it 
lay  in  my  valise,  for  I  felt  that  I  had  not  yet  found 
an  owner  for  it.     At  last,  after  Early  had  been  beaten  back  from 
Fort  Stevens  by  the  Sixth  Corps,  I  found  a  new  and  bright  face  in 
one  of  my  hospital  tents. 

"  How  are  you,  my  friend?"  I  began. 

"  First  rate." 

"Lightly  wounded,  then,  I  suppose?" 

He  drew  back  the  sheet  and  showed  me  that  his  right  arm  was 
gone,  cut  off  close  to  the  shoulder. 

"Is  that  first  rate?"  I  asked. 

"  Why,  it  might  have  been  ever  so  much  worse,  you  know." 

Day  after  day  I  found  him  as  cheery  and  uncomplaining.  At 
first  he  was  overflowing  with  fun  all  the  time,  but  at  last  the  terrible 
heat  and  the  strain  upon  his  system  so  much  reduced  his  strength 
that  there  was  only  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye  when  I  came  in,  and 
a  word  of  cordial  greeting.  Little  by  little  I  learned  his  history.  The 
action  in  which  he  had  received  his  first  wound  was  his  thirteenth 
battle.  When  he  dropped  his  musket  and  reached  round  to  take  his 
useless  arm  tenderly  in  his  left  hand  and  walk  off  the  field  under  a 
shower  of  balls,  it  was  his  first  time  off  duty  since  he  entered  the 
service.  He  was  only  nineteen  years  old,  but  his  patriotism  was  so 
ardent  and  his  courage  so  magnificent,  that  I  felt  he  had  become  my 
teacher.  As  soon  as  he  could  sit  up,  he  was  busy  with  pencil  and 
paper,  training  the  muscles  of  his  left  hand  to  replace  those  of  the 
right.  His  face  had  grown  pale  and  thin,  his  eye  dull,  his  manner 


1  Of  Northampton,  Mass. 


378  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

languid,  and  his  voice  broken,  but  his  heart  was  still  strong  and  man 
ful  as  ever.  Low  spirits  or  complaint  seemed  impossible  to  him. 

I  thought  I  should  have  to  look  long  and  far  to  find  a  soldier 
worthier  of  the  little  Testament.  He  was  eager  to  get  one,  having 
lost  everything  in  that  last  charge  upon  the  enemy.  So  I  wrote  his 
name,  company  and  regiment  on  the  fly-leaf  of  the  little  book,  and 
added  how  it  had  come  from  a  little  girl  in  the  Connecticut  Valley, 
who  had  given  her  first  money  to  comfort  the  soldier.  As  I  read  it 
the  tears  started  into  his  eyes. 

"  I  wish,"  said  he,  "  I  had  that  arm,  so  that  I  could  thank  her 
myself." 

He  told  me  afterwards  that  he  had  been  thinking  much  since  he 
had  been  lying  there,  and  was  going  to  try  and  lead  a  better  life.  I 
tried  to  show  him  where  the  best  and  highest  Life  was  to  be  found, 
but  I  know  not  whether  he  found  it. 

Mr.  Whitney  gives  another  incident  of  nearly  the 
same  date : 

I  discovered  in  one  of  the  wards  of  Mount  Pleasant  Hospital, 
Washington,  a  young  Swede,  who  had  taken  the  first  degree  in  the 
University  at  Lund.  He  could  converse  readily  in  five  different 

languages,  and  was  familiar  with  Greek  and  Latin. 

A  Savant    in       ^  .  .  .  „ 

the  Ranks  was  a  Pnva^e  m  a  Maine  regiment,  a  member  01 

the  Lutheran  Church  at  home,  and  a  sincere  Chris 
tian.  He  wanted  a  Testament.  I  asked  him  in  what  language.  He 
did  not  care,  but  on  being  pressed  chose  an  English  one,  as  he  was 
not  so  familiar  with  our  language. 

"  How  came  you,"  I  asked, "  with  your  fine  education,  comfortable 
circumstances  and  excellent  prospects,  to  come  to  this  country  and 
enlist?" 

"  Why  I  heard  there  was  a  war  over  here,  and  I  came." 
The  simplicity  and  candor  of  this  blue-eyed,  flaxen-haired  son  of 
the  North,  and  his  entire  freedom  from  bloodthirstiness,  puzzled  me 
profoundly: 

"  Did  you  find  the  realities  of  the  war  at  all  what  you  expected?" 
"  Yes,  but  better.     I  have  looked  into  these  things  a  great  deal  at 


WASHINGTON.  379 

home  and  in  Germany,  and  I  think  no  government  and  no  people 
ever  took  such  care  of  their  soldiers." 

The  patient  contentment  wherewith  he  bore  his  severe  wound,  his 
coarse  fare,  his  absence  from  home  and  friends,  and  all  the  little 
things  which  would  have  worn  upon  most  men  of  his  education,  was 
an  unceasing  marvel  to  me. 

Iii  September  "  Carleton,"  visiting  a  Sunday  evening 
Delegates'  experience  meeting  in  Washington,  wrote  an 
account  of  it  for  the  Congregationalist : 

The  Carver  Hospital  Delegate  reported  that  he  found  fully  one- 
tliird  of  the  men  in  his  wards  professing  Christians.     They  were  glad 
to  see  him, — very  glad  to  get  religious  reading.     A  few  days  before, 
he  gave  an  old  man  a  little  book,  entitled,  "  The  Blood 
of  Jesus ;"  he  had  seen  him  again  to-day.     The  old      Christ 
man  greeted  him  with  a  smile: 

"  I  have  found  Jesus,  and  oh,  He  is  so  precious !" 

Another  from  the  same  hospital,  said — 

I  found  among  the  patients  a  minister  who  enlisted  as  a  private. 
He  has  been  in  the  hospital  sixteen  months,  and  has  maintained  his 
Christian  character  through  all  the  trials  of  camp 

and  hospital  life.     I  found  some  convalescents  plav-  "  G(m'i   keep 

Track    of   Sun- 
ing  cards  :  day,, 

"  My  boys,  you  don't  play  cards  on  Sunday,  do 
you  ?" 

"  It  isn't  Sunday,  is  it  ?  Why  hang  it  all,  Chaplain,  we  can't  keep 
track  of  the  days  in  the  army." 

I  talked  to  them  of  home  and  of  their  mothers.  The  tears  rolled 
down  their  cheeks.  They  put  up  their  cards  and  read  the  papers  I 
gave  them. 

The  Emory  Hospital  Delegate  said — 

"  I  never  saw  men  so  ready  to  receive  religious  instruction,  or  who 
were  so  easily  impressed  with  the  truth.  I  am  satisfied  that  this  is  a 

rrolden  opportunity  for  the  Christian  Church.  I  found 

"Tell  me  just 
a  young  man  to-day,  who  said- 

" '  I  want  you,  Chaplain,  to  tell  me  just  what  I  have 


380 


CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 


to  do  to  be  a  Christian.  I  will  do  just  what  you  say.  I  want  to  be 
a  Christian.' 

"  It  was  a  sincere  desire.  I  find  that  the  Catholics  are  just  as  eager 
to  have  religious  instruction  as  others." 

Another  from  this  hospital,  said — 

"I  found  Sergeant ,  of  Massachusetts,  very  low,  but  he  met 

me  with  a  smile  : 

"  '  It  is  all  right.     I  am  happy,  and  I  die  content. 

J±U,  Aiig/it.  mil  n  • 

I  ell  my  friends  so.   ' 

Another  Delegate  said,  "  I  have  been  over  the  river  to  see  some 
detached  regiments,  men  who  are  not  in  hospital.  I  asked  one  noble- 
looking  soldier  if  he  loved  Jesus  : 

"  '  No,  I  don't.' 
Everybody 

Feels  so."  ' '  Are  7011  married  ?' 

"  No  ;  but  I  have  a  sister.  She  isn't  a  Christian, 
but  she  wrote  to  me  that  she  wanted  me  to  become  one,  and  I  wrote 
to  her  that  I  wanted  her  to  be  one;  and  I  guess,  Chaplain,  that 
everybody  who  believes  the  Bible  feels  just  so.  If  they  ain't  good 
themselves,  they  want  their  friends  to  be.' 

"  I  found  another  soldier  writing  a  letter  on  a  little  bit  of  paper.  I 
gave  him  a  full  sheet  and  an  envelope  : 

"Are  you  a  Christian  Commission  man  ?' 

"'Yes.' 

"  Not  Quite  so 

Hard.''  ' You  are  a  d— d  good  set  of  fellows.' 

"'Hold  on,  soldier,  not  quite  so  hard.' 

: '  I  beg  your  pardon,  Chaplain,  I  didn't  mean  to  swear ;  but  darn  it 
all,  I  have  got  into  the  habit  out  here  in  the  army,  and  it  comes 
right  out  before  I  think.' 

" '  Won't  you  try  to  leave  it  off?' 

"'Yes,  Chaplain,  I  will."' 

Another  Delegate  told  us — 

"  As  I  went  among  the  men  they  gathered  about  me  with  great 
eagerness.  They  were  a  little  disappointed  however,  when  they  saw 

Setter  than  Gold.    ^   *  WaS   *  DcleSate  of  the  Commission.     They 

took  me  to  be  the  paymaster : 
"But  I  have  something  that  is  better  than  gold.' 
"Give  me  some  of  it,'  said  one,  the  son  of  a  Baptist  minister,  a 

tender-hearted  Christian." 


WASHINGTON.  381 

Rev.  E.  F.  "Williams  gives  some  reminiscences  of 
work  in  that  peculiar  field  of  labor,  the  Soldiers'  Rest 
at  Washington : 

It  was  but  a  rough  kind  of  "  Rest "  in  the  opinion  of  recruits  fresh 
from  home;  but  to  the  "veteran,"  its  tight  roofs,  hard  floors  and 
neatly-spread  tables  w.ere  vastly  preferable  to  canvas  tents,  mud 

floors,  hard-tack  and  salt  pork.     The  principal  bar- 

,         ,      ,  ,.     ,  1  .,  A  Short  Sermon. 

rack  was  about  three  hundred  feet  long ;  near  it  were 

several  smaller  ones.  Our  visits,  made  in  March,  1865,  were  usually 
begun  by  distributing  papers,  books  and  stationery,  giving  notice  of 
a  meeting  as  we  passed  along.  Sometimes  we  were  obliged  to  modify 
our  course  however,  as  in  the  following  instance: 

The  barracks  were  nearly  vacant  throughout  the  day ;  our  work 
therefore  must  be  done  just  after  breakfast  or  supper.  Coming  round 
rather  late  one  morning,  I  found  a  regiment  drawn  up  in  marching 
order.  Approaching  the  officer  in  command,  I  inquired — 

"  How  long  since  these  men  have  had  the  gospel  preached  to 
them  ?" 

"  Some  three  months,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Can  I  preach  to  them  now  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  can  do  it  in  five  minutes." 

Instantly  I  stated  the  case  to  the  men,  taking  my  text  from  Prov. 
ix.  12, — "  If  thou  be  wise,  thou  shalt  be  wise  for  thyself;  but  if  thou 
scornest,  thou  alone  shalt  bear  it."  My  subject  was  "  Individual 
Responsibility."  It  would  have  done  any  Christian  good  to  see 
how  the  men  drank  in  the  only  sermon  they  had  heard  for  three 
months.  But  the  five  minutes  were  quickly  gone ;  a  hasty  benedic 
tion  pronounced,  my  audience  moved  down  the  street  to  the  music  of 
fife  and  drum. 

On  another  occasion  the  whole  barracks  resounded  with  the  noise 
made  by  a  body  of  men  whom  an  Orderly  Sergeant  was  drilling.  With 
some  hesitation  I  asked  leave  to  distribute  my  papers  to  the  men  as 

they  passed.     It  was  readily  given.     This  work  ac- 

J    '  "  Drilling  for 

comphshed,  I  was  turning  to  go,  when  the  Orderly      jesus» 

politely  asked  if  I  didn't  wish  to  preach. 

"  Certainly,"  said  I,  "  that  was  what  I  came  for,  but  as  your  men 
are  busy  drilling,  we  shall  have  to  let  it  go,  I  suppose." 


382  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  By  no  means,"  he  replied ;  "  a  little  drilling  for  Jesus  is  needful 
now  and  then  to  make  us  good  soldiers  of  the  cross." 

The  music  ceased,  the  men  stacked  arms  and  sat  down  in  lines  on 
the  floor,  and  then  we  had  a  most  precious  meeting,  in  which  the 
pious  officer  took  a  most  cordial  part.  As  I  left  the  barrack,  the 
tramp  and  ring  of  the  military  evolutions  were  resumed. 

Another  evening  we  found  nearly  all  the  men  gathered  round  a 
wag,  who  was  making  a  speech  for  their  amusement.  The  moment 
seemed  inopportune  for  a  meeting,  so  we  went  on  to  another  barrack. 

Coming  back  in  an  hour,  we  found  the  same  men 
Choosing    a 

Prayer  Meeting.      sPectators  °*  some  grotesque  negro  dances.     Father 
Noble  and  I  held  a  brief  council  of  war,  the  result 
of  which  was  that  he  stepped  into  the  ring  by  the  side  of  the  dancers, 
and  called  out  in  his  stentorian  voice — 

"I  want  to  know  if  you  are  new  recruits  or  veterans." 

"  Four  years  in  service,"  was  the  general  answer. 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  he.  "  Now,  we  Christian  Commission  Dele 
gates  don't  want  to  interfere  with  your  wishes,  only  to  consult  them. 
You  have  had  fun  here  now  for  over  an  hour.  Those  who,  by  way 
of  change,  want  a  prayer  meeting,  show  your  hands." 

Nearly  every  right  hand  went  up.  Two  or  three  only  seemed 
offended,  and  muttered  as  they  stalked  off.  The  rest  seated  them 
selves  in  an  orderly  manner,  and  enjoyed  the  meeting  greatly. 

As  we  were  leaving,  a  fine-looking  young  man  grasped  my  hand 
and  said — 

"  We  are  ordered  front  to-morrow,  and  can't  tell  what  awaits  us. 
Will  you  pray  that  I  may  be  a  faithful  Christian  ?" 

After  I  had  reached  the  door,  one  who  had  followed  me  called  me 
back,  and  with  broken  sobs  told  that  he  was  a  guilty  sinner  in  deep 
est  need  of  Christ. 

Gen.  Philip  H.  Sheridan  vras  placed  in  command  in 
the  Shenandoah  in  August.  At  Opequan  and  Fisher's 
Hill,  in  September,  he  so  thoroughly  defeated  Early, 
the  Confederate  commander,  that  he  was  driven  from 
the  Valley  into  the  mountains.  Returning  after  the 
chase,  our  army  rested  at  Cedar  Creek.  Here,  during 


OPEQUAN.  383 

Sheridan's  absence,  on  October  19th,  the  camp  was  sur 
prised  by  Early,  and  our  forces  driven.  "  Sheridan's 
ride"  from  Winchester,  however,  ere  nightfall  redeemed 
the  day.  After  this  there  was  scarcely  any  more  fight 
ing  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley. 

Mr.  J.  R.  Miller,  formerly  Field  Agent  of  the  Eigh 
teenth  Corps  in  the  armies  operating  against  Richmond, 
became  the  General  Field  Agent  in  the  Shenandoah 
about  the  time  of  the  battle  of  Opequan.  He  writes  of 
the  scene  after  the  battle : 

Winchester  was  literally  one  vast  hospital.  The  churches  and 
public  buildings  were  filled,  while  nearly  every  private  house  had 
its  quota.  There  was  great  need  of  external  relief;  nothing  was  left 

in  the  country  ;  Government  supplies  were  all  back ; 

t  TT  ,     T,  ^  •   ,  Hoiu  Sheridan's 

the  nearest  base,  Harper  s  Ferry,  was  over  thirty     Men  were  Fed 

miles  away,  and  the  intervening  country  was  overrun 
by  guerrillas. 

As  soon  as  the  railroad  was  restored,  Martinsburg  became  a  place 
of  great  importance  to  our  work.  Almost  every  wagon-train  from 
the  front  brought  in  two,  three  or  five  hundred  men,  who  had  come, 
jolted  and  wounded,  in  hard  army-wagons  over  rough  roads,  twenty- 
two  miles,  from  Winchester,  with  no  beds,  with  no  straw  even  under 
them,  with  no  rest,  and  with  nothing  to  eat.  We  were  always  ap 
prised  of  their  coming  an  hour  or  more  before  they  began  to  arrive, 
and  soon  had  all  our  preparations  made.  With  tea,  crackers,  jellies, 
bread,  meats,  cheese  and  fruits,  the  Delegates  hurried  about  until  all 
were  fed.  Then  came  the  bathing,  washing  and  dressing,  and  it  was 
usually  well-nigh  morning  before  all  was  done.  When  the  morning 
dawned  the  same  routine  was  renewed,  and  at  noon  the  brave  fellows 
were  as  comfortable  as  they  could  be  made  for  their  tedious  railroad 
ride  to  Harper's  Ferry. 

Rev.  P.  B.  Thayer l  writes  in  October  of  his  ministra- 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Garland,  Me. 


384  CHRISTIAN"    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

tions    to    Confederate  wounded,  who   were   brought  to 
Martinsburg  in  the  same  wagons  with  our  own  men : 


"Hoys,  I  give 
in." 


As  we  have  ministered  to  their  wants  and  addressed  words  of  kind 
ness  to  them,  tears  have  started  from  eyes  unaccustomed  to  weeping. 
They  fairly  overwhelm  us  with  their  thankful  expressions.  "This 
is  what  I  call  living  Christianity,"  one  would  say. 
"  This  is  the  religion  for  me,"  another  would  add. 

"  I  can't  stand  this,"  said  a  rough,  hard-looking 
fellow,  badly  wounded  in  the  foot,  but  able  to  hobble  along  on 
crutches, — "  I  can't  stand  this,  boys ;  it  overcomes  me.  I  give  in," 
and  as  he  came  towards  us  his  whole  frame  shook  with  emotion,  and 
the  big  tears  fell  from  his  sunburnt  face, — tears  which  he  awkwardly 
and  vainly  tried  to  hide  from  his  comrades  and  us. 

"You  know,"  he  continued,  "I  am  no  coward;  I  can  face  the 
enemy  and  not  wink  ;  but  this  kindness  kills  me  ;  it  breaks  me  all  to 
pieces.  I  tell  you,  boys,  this  is  no  humbug.  It's  a  big  thing.  It's 
the  Gospel  for  body  and  soul, — just  what  we  all  need." 

And  so  he  went  on  in  the  truest  eloquence  for  some  minutes,  clos 
ing  with  the  ever-recurring  soldier's  benediction,  "  God  bless  you !" 

In  the  Winter  a  deep  and  pervading  religious  work 
began  in  this  department.  The  larger  part  of  the  army 
lay  near  Winchester,  and  most  of  the  chapels  were 
erected  in  that  vicinity.  There  were  thirty  in  all ;  four 
of  them  being  large  marquee  tents,  the  others  stockades 
roofed  with  canvas.  A  few  incidents  from  Delegates' 
reports  will  illustrate  the  general  character  of  the  work. 

Rev.  Sewall  Brown1  writes  in  March,  1865,  of  service 
at  Maryland  Heights  and  Gamp  Remount : 

John  Sangden,  a  Swede,  was  a  noble  specimen  of  a  Christian.  One 
day  he  came  in,  wanting  something  in  Swedish  to  read.  I  had 
nothing  at  the  time,  but  hunted  up  Baxter's  /Saint's  Rest,  in  Danish, 
which  he  could  read.  His  gratitude  was  very  deep.  Not  knowing 

1  Pastor  of  Baptist  Church,  E.  Winthrop,  Me. 


MARYLAND    HEIGHTS.  385 

how  to  express  himself  in   English,  he  could  only          The  Unknown 

grasp  our  hands  and  shake  them  again  and  again,       Tongue    Inter- 

.,,  ,  .  preted. 

without  speaking. 

At  an  evening  meeting  a  short  time  afterwards,  a  Delegate  noticed 
a  tear  in  Sangden's  eye  and  a  glow  in  his  face.  He  was  invited  to 
rise  and  speak : 

"  Yag  kan  ecke  saga" — " I  cannot  speak  it," — he  said,  and  then 
added  in  English :  "  You  say,  '  My  Lord  Jesus,'  and  it  feels  my 
heart." 

He  then  offered  prayer  in  Swedish ;  the  only  words  we  could  un 
derstand  were,  "  Fader,"  "  Jesus,"  and  the  "  Christian  Commission ;" 
but  the  prayer  was  so  intensely  fervent  that  there  was  scarcely  a 
dry  eye  in  the  congregation.  He  seemed  to  be  praying  earth  up  to 
heaven. 

Geo.  N ,  a  New  York  soldier,  had  come  out  of  the  lowest  soci 
ety  of  that  city.  His  temper  was  remarkably  violent,  and  had  been 
so  much  indulged  that,  when  provoked,  he  lost  all  command  of  him* 
self,  and  became  even  unconscious  of  what  he  was 
doing.  Liquor  always  made  him  "  mad."  Once,  I 
remember  seeing  three  men  struggling  with  him 
while  he  was  in  the  midst  of  one  of  these  tempestuous  passions, 
brought  on  by  whisky.  He  foamed  at  the  mouth,  and  was  indeed  a 
fearful  sight.  For  this  offence  he  was  sentenced  to  thirty  days'  hard 
labor.  It  was  a  mournful  spectacle  to  see  the  poor  fellow  going 
through  with  his  enforced  tasks.  At  the  close  of  the  fifth  day,  his 
sentence  was  commuted.  I  went  to  him  to  try  and  show  him  what 
kindness  I  could ;  he  remembered  some  encouraging  words  of  mine, 
dropped  while  he  was  under  sentence,  and  his  heart  was  touched.  In 
a  day  or  two  he  came  to  the  chapel  and  asked  for  a  Bible.  He  re 
ceived  it,  with  a  hymn  book  and  other  good  books,  and  set  himself 
diligently  to  study  them.  He  never  missed  a  meeting  afterwards ; 
and  when  I  came  away  was  an  humble,  sincere  inquirer  after  the 
truth. 

Mr.  J.  H.  Earle,1  the  Agent  at  Stephenson's  Station, 
writes : 


1  Of  S.  Abington,  Mass. 
25 


386  CHKISTIAN   COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

One  evening,  after  our  usual  meeting  at  the  chapel,  a  Lieutenant 
asked  us  to  go  with  him  to  the  hospital,  to  see  a  soldier  of  his  com 
pany  supposed  to  be  dying.  Passing  through  the  dimly-lighted  ward, 
with  its  sleeping  patients  and  yawning  nurses,  we 
„.  ^  e(  came  to  the  cot  of  a  fine-looking  boy,  in  great  dis 

tress  about  his  soul's  salvation.  After  a  close  talk 
with  him,  a  Delegate  prayed,  he  joining  audibly  in  the  petition.  In 
humble  submission  he  exclaimed  again  and  again,  "  Here,  Lord,  I 
give  myself  to  Thee."  We  felt  that  such  a  yielding  up  would  be 
blest  of  God.  And  so  indeed  it  was. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  happy !  I'm  happy  all  over,"  he  exclaimed  in  a  mo 
ment. 

The  Surgeon  who  was  standing  by  watching  the  scene,  said  it  was 
just  the  needed  medicine  for  his  body  also.  And  so  it  proved,  for 
from  that  hour  he  began  to  recover 

With  two  incidents  related  by  Rev.  W.  H.  Kelton,1  a 
Delegate  at  Winchester  in  May,  we  close  the  record  of 
work  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley : 

I  found  a  Frenchman  in  the  hospital,  sick  with  rheumatism.     He 

was  intelligent  and  apparently  pretty  well  educated,  but  quite  derided 

the  idea  of  reading  the  Testament.      He  eagerly  accepted  my  offer 

to  bring  him  a  French  book  however ;  so  in  a  day  or 

Influence  of  a  two  j  handed  him  Monod's  ''Lucille,"— from  our  Loan 
Loan  Library  T  .  .  ,  ,  .  ,  , 

POOJ.  Library.     When  I  visited  him  next  he  greeted  me 

very  cordially,  and  drawing  the  little  book  from  un 
der  his  pillow,  said — 

"  It  is  good ;  I  like  it ;  I  read  it  through  ;  I  want  a  Bible  for  my 
self." 

He  opened  the  book,  and  showed  me  where  he  had  written  on  the 
fly  leaf— 

"  I  like  this  book ;  I  will  read  the  Bible.  Give  me  one.  Jules 
Bernard,  Bugler,  Co.  F,  5th  N.  Y.  Cav." 


1  Pastor  of  Baptist  Church,  W.  Waterville,  Maine.     Since,  rendered  incapable 
of  doing  ministerial  work  by  disease  contracted  in  the  Commission's  service. 


WINCHESTER  *    387 

I  was  sure  from  his  joy  at  receiving  the  Bible,  that  he  would  pe 
ruse  it  with  profit. 

A  soldier  of  Co.  A,  1st  U.  S.  V.  V.,  of  Hancock's  Corps,  had  been 
early  cast  upon  the  world  to  earn  a  livelihood.  He  became  skeptical, 
profane  and  very  intemperate.  One  day,  while  he  was  giving  ex 
pression  to  his  religious  and  irreligious  notions,  he 

used  language  like  this — 

Jjimne  .Law. 

"  There  is  no  law  but  what  men  make ;  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  inspiration,  only  in  that  sense  in  which  any  man  is  in 
spired  when  he  can  impress  and  move  men.  The  man  Christ  was 
the  greatest  who  ever  lived,  simply  because  to  this  late  day  His  words 
exert  such  a  powerful  influence  on  the  world, — but  He  was  human  ! 
His  teachings  have  no  Divine  authority." 

He  told  me  afterwards  that,  while  he  was  uttering  the  words,  a 
comrade,  much  more  wicked  outwardly  than  himself,  was  looking  at 
him  very  strangely.  The  look  troubled  him  somehow.  There  was 
silence  for  a  moment :  suddenly  his  comrade  broke  out — 

"  If  I  believed  all  that,  Captain  Kidd  would  be  nowhere  to  me." 

The  remark  struck  him  like  a  thunderbolt. 

"  If  indeed  there  be  no  Divine  Law,  and  no  power  to  execute  it," 
I  thought,  "  what  is  there  to  restrain  my  passions  ?  What  man  can 
make,  I,  or  any  man,  can  break.  At  last  I  resolved  to  read  the  Bi 
ble  candidly.  I  was  utterly  amazed  at  its  revelations ;  each  perusal 
gave  me  something  new  to  think  of.  Somehow  it  was  different  from 
every  other  book.  Gradually  I  became  fully  persuaded  of  its  Divine 
authority." 

While  he  was  in  this  state  of  mind,  the  regiment  came  to  Win 
chester  and  encamped  close  to  the  village  cemetery.  The  seclusion 
and  shadow  of  the  "  city  of  the  dead"  were  in  harmony  with  the 
man's  troubled  spirit.  Thither  he  frequently  yetired  to  wander  and 
meditate.  One  day  he  sat  down  by  a  small  grave  with  a  plain  marble 
headstone,  inscribed  simply,  "  Her  name  was  Mary."  Above  the 
words  was  carved  a  hand  pointing  upwards  with  extended  finger. 
The  whole  arrested  his  attention  at  once.  To  use  his  own  expression, 
"  This  was  my  sermon-book ;  to  it  I  came  often  ;  it  always  had  a  les 
son  for  me."  Finally,  he  was  led  to  the  Commission  prayer  meetings ; 
here  the  truth  came  home  to  him  with  power.  One  Sabbath  evening, 


388  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

rising  in  the  presence  of  a  crowded  audience,  he  said  in  a  clear,  de 
cided  voice — 

"  Fellow-soldiers,  I  am  not  a  Christian,  but  I  want  to  be  one." 
And  God  heard  and  answered  the  earnest  prayer. 

In  May  the  victorious  armies  of  Grant  and  Sherman 
began  to  gather  near  Washington  for  the  "  grand 
review."  Here  was  the  last  opportunity  for  the  Com 
mission,  and  its  forces  were  mustered  accordingly. 
General  Field  Agents,  Field  Agents  and  Delegates,  to 
the  number  of  sixty,  combined  all  their  strength  and 
zeal  for  this  last  work.  Chapel  tents  and  Commission 
stations  were  opened  throughout  all  the  camps  of  the 
veterans  surrounding  Washington.  The  narrative  of 
Eev.  E.  P.  Goodwin,  covering  service  in  May  and  June, 
will  illustrate  the  character  of  the  extensive  operations 
at  this  time : 

My  first  work  was  in  the  heart  of  Provisional  Camp,  some  two 
and  a  half  miles  from  Alexandria,  where  a  Christian   Commission 
station  was  opening.     Tents  were  barely  up ;  the  chapel  was  unpul- 
pited  and  unbenched  ;  domestic  arrangements  all  in 
£,  chaos,  and  boxes  unopened.    Evidently  a  hard  after 

noon's  campaign  was  before  our  party  of  Delegates. 
Crowds  of  soldiers  thronged  us  on  every  side,  eager  to  find  out  "  what 
them  fellers  had  got  in  their  new  shebang,"  as  they  phrased  it ;  and 
covetously  eyeing  and  hanging  about  every  box  of  our  treasures,  as 
if  they  caught,  by  the  instinct  of  their  need,  the  odor  of  new  shirts, 
drawers  and  socks. 

Lunch  despatched,  work  began  in  earnest.   Six  of  us  joined  hands 
in  opening  boxes  and  distributing  gifts.     So  great  was  the  pressure 
upon  us  that  we  were  unable  to  meet  it,  and,  after  toiling  incessantly 
until  dark,  had  to  dismiss  the  scores  of  longing  ap 
plicants  with  the  pledge — better  than  nothing  to  be 
sure,  but  not  especially  comforting  to  shirtless  men — 
that  we  would  resume  the  distribution  early  in  the  morning.    I  never 


PROVISIONAL   CAMP.  389 

saw  such  an  intensely  eager  set  of  men.  There  was  not  an  article  we 
had,  from  a  shirt  to  a  newspaper,  which  was  not  in  constant  demand, 
often  by  a  dozen  voices  at  once.  And  there  was  good  reason  for  the 
eagerness.  There  were  in  the  camp  probably  not  far  from  ten 
thousand  men,  most  of  whom  were  from  Sherman's  Army.  Not  a 
man  among  them,  as  far  as  I  could  learn,  had  a  dime  of  money,  while 
all  had  been  without  pay  for  many  months.  Their  condition  verified 
their  stories.  I  had  certainly  never  thought  it  possible  for  our  sol 
diers  to  become  so  ragged  and  beggar-like.  Scores,  if  not  hundreds 
of  them,  came  to  us  and  made  request  for  shirts,  often  with  beautiful 
and  touching  modesty,  their  blouses  meanwhile  close  buttoned  about 
the  neck,  hot  as  the  day  was,  to  hide  their  condition.  Shirts  and 
pants  hung  in  shreds ;  some  wore  drawers  only,  the  pantaloons  being 
past  all  presentableness  or  service ;  the  shoeless  and  stockingless  were 
numberless.  Our  hearts  certainly  lacked  no  stimulus  in  the  blessed 
work  of  relief. 

Yet  all  this  time  my  heart  was  growing  heavy  over  the  prospects 
of  the  work  on  its  spiritual  side.  I  doubt  if  our  camp  was  often 
paralleled  for  vileness.  Its  make-up  will  furnish  a  significant  reason 
for  this.  Ostensibly  it  was  a  camp  of  men  disabled 

by  long  marches,  and  convalescents  still  unfit  for 

ences. 

active  service,  sent  here  chiefly  by  boat  from  New- 
bern,  in  advance  of  their  comrades,  who  were  to  come  by  land.  But 
in  addition  to  these,  there  were  a  large  number  of  stragglers  and 
"  shirks,"  who  had  contrived  to  pass  themselves  off  as  invalids,  and 
had  so  dodged  a  fatiguing  march,  with  quite  a  numerous  sprinkling 
of  "  bounty-jumpers"  and  conscripts.  As  an  inevitable  sequence,  the 
morals  of  the  camp  were  of  the  worst ;  and  so  incessantly  on  that 
first  afternoon  were  our  ears  assailed  with  profanity  and  vulgarity, 
that  the  bare  thought  of  trying  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  men  so  cor 
rupt  almost  filled  me  with  dismay. 

One  circumstance  occurred  however  to  check  my  despondency  and 
inspire  hope.     Just  as  we  were  ready  for  our  lunch  of  crackers  and 
bacon,  a  pleasant-looking  soldier  came  to  me,  and  with  an  earnest 
look  drew  me  aside  to  ask  if  there  was  to  be  preach 
ing  in  our  chapel  that  evening.     Upon  my  replying  ^e     $1*™* 
that  there  was  to  be,  his  eyes  filled  forthwith  with         .^ 
tears,  and  an  expression  of  devout  thanks  broke  from 


* 
390  CHKISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

his  lips.  His  personal  experience  was  a  very  remarkable  one.  A 
sailor  for  nine  years,  he  had  been  a  very  wicked  man.  Nothing  had 
arrested  him  in  his  course,  until  a  few  evenings  previous,  passing  a 
tent,  he  heard  some  Christian  soldier  singing.  He  was  struck  by  the 
melody,  so  much  so  that  the  music  kept  ringing  in  his  ears  con 
stantly.  He  unbosomed  himself  to  his  comrade ;  they  went  together 
to  find  the  tent,  but  could  not.  Their  consciences  were  now,  however, 
thoroughly  awake,  and  they  agreed  among  themselves  that  they 
ought  to  be  better  men.  Finally,  Wright — this  was  the  soldier's  name, 
Chas.  Wright,  of  the  32d  Mass., — told  his  comrade  that  talking 
would  not  make  them  any  better.  The  other  suggested  prayer. 
They  did  not  know  anything  about  praying,  however.  And  it  was 
not  until  after  considerable  hesitation  that  they  got  down  on  their 
knees.  They  confessed  their  common  sins  as  well  as  they  could, 
asked  forgiveness,  and  found  that  prayer  helped  them  very  much. 
So  they  continued  a  day  or  two,  working  without  encouragement  from 
any  about  them,  until  it  suddenly  occurred  to  them  that  they  were 
selfish  about  the  matter,  so  they  agreed  to  try  and  get  in  some  of 
their  comrades.  They  were  successful,  and  after  that  had  an  evening 
prayer  meeting  at  their  tent,  consisting  of  about  ten  men.  Wright 
was  a  member  of  the  Fifth  Corps,  which  was  hourly  expected  to  ar 
rive.  He  was  in  great  anxiety,  because  he  feared  that  when  his  Corps 
came,  he  would  have  to  join  it  immediately,  before  our  meetings  be 
gan.  He  went  away  with  a  happy  face  when  he  found  that  we  were 
to  have  a  meeting  that  evening. 

I  had  no  idea  there  would  be  any  considerable  number  of  the  men 
out.  To  our  surprise  the  tent  was  crowded  full,  and  probably  one 
hundred  and  fifty  men  lay  down  on  the  grass  outside,  within  hearing 
distance,  when  we  rolled  up  the  sides  of  the  chapel.  Close  up  to  the 
desk  sat  Charles  Wright.  A  squad  of  soldiers  sitting  near  him  had 
evidently  formed  the  nucleus  of  his  remarkable  prayer  meeting.  Our 
doubts  of  the  day  were  still  hanging  about  us,  and  though  we  had 
grand  singing,  and  the  fullest  attention  was  paid  to  everything  said, 
yet  it  was  only  after  a  hesitating  conference  among  ourselves  that  we 
proposed,  not  very  courageously,  a  supplementary  meeting  of  Chris 
tian  soldiers  for  conference  and  prayer.  To  our  embarrassment  not 
a  man  stirred  to  leave.  Supposing  they  had  not  understood,  I  re 
peated  the  notice  that  those  who  wanted  to  talk  over  their  Christian 


PKOVISIONAL   CAMP.  391 

experience  might  remain.  But  nobody  moved  yet—  so  we  had  a 
whole  tent  full.  The  soldiers  were  invited  to  speak.  Wright  rose 
promptly  and  told  the  story  which  he  had  related  to  me  in  the  after 
noon  ;  and  after  that  we  had  no  lack  of  them.  The  Lord  seemed  to 
be  indeed  present  with  us. 

With  that  service  began  a  revival.  A  fact  remarkable  to  us  was 
developed  in  these  meetings,  and  this  was  that  there  had  been  a  suc 
cession  of  revivals  in  the  army  all  the  way  round  from  Chattanooga. 
Various  places  were  spoken  of  which  had  been  the 

scenes  of  deep  interest—  Dalton,  Goldsboro',  Ealeigh,      .  Pm^  Meet- 

ings  on  the  Great 
among  others.     Some  of  the  men  had  agreed  to  hold 


meetings  every  night  of  the  long  and  perilous  march.1 
These  were  often  held  under  peculiar  difficulties  ;  many  a  time  the 
soldiers  gathered  in  the  dark,  where  they  did  not  dare  to  have  fires. 
I  never  heard  men  speak  more  ably  or  with  deeper  earnestness  than 
did  these.  In  those  solemn,  quiet  meetings  of  the  "great  march," 
held  under  such  dangers,  they  seemed  to  have  entered  into  the  mean 
ing  of  the  Psalmist's  song  :  "  Whoso  dwelleth  under  the  defence  of 
the  Most  High,  shall  abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty.  He 
shall  defend  thee  under  His  wings,  and  thou  shalt  be  safe  under  His 
feathers.  His  faithfulness  and  truth  shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler." 
And  so,  when  they  came  into  the  country  of  safety,  their  song  was  : 
"  Oh,  what  great  troubles  and  adversities  hast  Thou  showed  me  !  and 
yet  didst  Thou  turn  and  refresh  me  ;  yea,  and  broughtest  me  from 
the  deep  of  the  earth  again.  My  praise  shall  be  always  of  Thee." 

Every  night  from  three  to  fifteen  men  came  forward  for  prayers. 
Our  chapel  tent  was  filled  at  every  meeting  until  the  camp  broke  up. 
One  night  I  remember  we  had  a  tremendous  thunder-storm.  My  im 

pression  was  that  it  would  be  useless  to  hold  a  ser- 

T  j  1*  „     ,  A  Wet  Meet- 

vice.      1  wrapped   myselt    up  to  keep  out  ot    the 

drenching  rain  and  stepped  over  to  the  chapel.  It 
was  two-thirds  full.  The  rain  was  dripping  through  the  canvas.  The 
water  chased  itself  across  the  ground  like  a  mill-race  ;  and  the  men 
had  to  keep  their  feet  out  of  it  as  best  they  could.  The  candles 
spluttered  and  died  out  as  fast  as  they  were  lit  ;  and  excepting  one  or 
two  which  we  managed  to  keep  burning  at  the  desk,  we  were  in  utter 


l  For  instance,  in  the  3d  Brig.,  2d  Div.,  of  the  Twentieth  Corps,  such  prayer 
meetings  were  held  every  night,  from  Tennessee  to  Washington. 


392  CHKISTIAN   COMMISSION   INCIDENTS. 

darkness.  Yet  we  not  only  had  the  regular  service,  but  a  prayer 
meeting  afterwards  also,  and  two  new  recruits  for  Christ  came  forward 
to  ask  our  special  petitions. 

The  men  told  many  precious  incidents  of  the  Christian  intercourse 

they  had  had  during  the  long  march.     Once  after  a  skirmish,  a  sol 

dier  told  me,  they  held  one  of  their  usual  night  prayer  meetings. 

The  wounded  were  being  brought  in  and  cared  for 

ymg  C  ;e  to  ^  ^  soldiers  were  singing  a  hymn.  A  poor  young 
•  lad,  fatally  wounded,  was  among  the  number.  As 

they  came  up,  they  said  to  him  — 

"  You  are  pretty  badly  wounded,  ai'n't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he  ;  "  almost  gone  ;  but  didn't  I  hear  some  singing  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  we  had  a  little  prayer  meeting." 

"  'Tain't  any  use  carrying  me  to  the  hospital  ;  if  you'll  just  carry 
me  up  to  the  tent,  near  the  prayer  meeting,  that'll  do.  I  would  like 
to  die  up  there." 

The  soldiers  carried  him  tenderly  to  the  place  ;  he  lay  there  listen 
ing  to  the  singing  and  the  prayers  until  he  died. 

Across  the  river  from  Provisional  Camp  was  encamped  the  Four 

teenth    Corps.      After   the  grand   review   we  established  ourselves 

among  them.     We  had  many  cases  of  interest.     I  remember  one 

rather  remarkable  incident  of  a  soldier  named  John 

in  t'1'11       H'  Slia"'  ^°'  F    104th  Illmois  ReL     He  nacl  savecl 


up  five  hundred  dollars  from  his  army  pay,  which  he 
proposed  using  to  have  himself  educated  for  a  missionary  after  his 
discharge.  His  story  awakened  a  deep  interest  in  our  meeting  one 
evening,  as  he  told  it  —  omitting  reference  to  the  money  he  had  saved 
—  in  a  peculiarly  simple  and  artless  way.  He  spoke  so  gently  of  his 
having  no  earthly  home  ;  and  then,  with  faith  and  trust  shining  out 
of  his  eyes,  he  said  he  had  One  Friend  who,  he  knew,  would  never 
forsake  him  or  go  away  from  him.  His  parents  had  been  Roman 
Catholics. 

Emanuel  A  --  ,  Co.  F,  31st  Ohio,  had  the  reputation  of  being 
the  most  accomplished  gambler  in  his  regiment.  He  was  a  fearfully 
intemperate  man  also,  and  as  profane  as  intemperate.  He  rose  for 

prayers  one  evening,  to  our  general  astonishment. 
Curious,  Angry,      .  .  . 

Convicted  Afterwards  he  told  me  something  of  his  experience. 

He  had  heard  about  the  meetings,  and  so  came  one 


WASHINGTON.  393 

night  out  of  curiosity  to  hear  the  singing.  He  sat  down  on  the  grass 
outside  of  the  tent  to  listen.  By-and-bye  something  was  said  which 
he  felt  inclined  to  regard  as  a  personal  affront.  He  got  very  angry 
and  rose  to  stalk  away.  A  comrade  followed  him  out  and  told  him 
that  was  not  the  way  to  leave,  "  like  a  coward."  So  he  was  prevailed 
on  to  go  back.  Again  something  sharp  in  the  address  came  across 
him,  and  again  he  started  off  in  anger.  His  comrade,  himself  not  a 
Christian,  stuck  to  him,  and  shamed  him  back  again.  This  time 
something  riveted  his  deepest  attention.  He  began  to  feel  there  was 
some  trouble  within.  He  went  away  at  the  close  of  the  meeting  feel 
ing  all  crushed  down ;  carried  his  load  for  a  day  or  two,  and  felt  as 
if  he  must  return  to  the  meetings  to  confess  his  sins.  He  soon  found 
out  the  way  of  peace,  and  coming  into  the  meeting,  asked  prayers 
most  earnestly  in  behalf  of  the  "  partner"  who  had  urged  him  back 
to  the  chapel  when  he  was  going  away  cross. 

The  success  of  our  revival  work  was  due  more  than  anything  else 
to  the  religious  element  among  the  men,  to  the  Christian  spirit  of 
those  who  had  held  to  their  prayer  meetings  during  the  march  from 
Atlanta. 

With  two  incidents,  occurring  near  the  close  of  the 
work  in  Washington  hospitals,  we  bid  adieu  to  the  men 
who  conquered  with  Sherman  and  Grant. 

The  first  is  related  by  Rev.  Mr.  Goodwin : 

In  Ward  75  of  Carver  Hospital,  Washington,  I  found  John  Gil- 
lespie,  a  Pennsylvania  soldier,  who  had  lost  a  leg  in  one  of  the  recent 
engagements  before  Richmond.  His  father  was  present  and  sat  at 
his  side,  holding  his  hand.  The  soldier  was  in  a  deep 

stupor ;  various  efforts  had  been  made  to  rouse  him  orwar  , 

.  .  Double- Quick, 

up ;  when  the  Chaplain  and  I  came  in,  we  continued         March!" 

them,  but  he  seemed  too  far  gone  to  heed  us.  A 
little  circle  of  comrades  in  the  mean  time  had  gathered  round  the 
cot.  I  offered  a  short  prayer,  and  then  we  all  stood  a  while  watching 
for  any  change  which  might  occur,  momently  expecting  the  sufferer 
to  expire.  Suddenly  one  of  his  comrades  said  eagerly  that  he 
thought  he  was  going  to  speak.  There  was  evidently  a  kindling  up 
of  the  little  life  which  was  left  in  him.  After  trying  to  clear  his 


394  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

throat  and  mouth  a  little,  at  first  only  faintly  articulating,  "For 
ward,"  he  at  last  broke  out,  as  though  he  were  again  at  the  head  of 
his  company — 

"  Double-quick,"  and  then  "  March"  came  out  short  and  quick  and 
clear. 

The  effort  had  exhausted  his  last  remaining  strength.  A  dull 
weight  fell  back  upon  the  pillow.  He  was  dead. 

The  last  is  related  by  Rev.  Edward  P.  Smith : 

Lieutenant  Wood,  of  a  Maine  regiment  in  the  Army  of  the  Po 
tomac,  was  on  his  way  to  the  "  grand  review."  He  had  gone  through 
the  war  without  a  wound,  and  even  without  hospital  experience.  At 
the  last  camp-halt  his  division  made  before  reaching 
,  Y  Washington,  as  he  stood  in  his  tent  door,  he  was 

mortally  wounded  by  the  accidental  discharge  of  a 
gun.  He  was  brought  into  Campbell  Hospital.  When  I  found  him 
he  was  apparently  peaceful  in  the  immediate  prospect  of  death.  He 
had  enlisted  as  a  Christian,  but  while  he  had  kept  an  unsullied  rep 
utation  for  uprightness  and  integrity,  yet  he  had  not  been  distinctly 
known  in  the  regiment  as  a  Christian ;  and  this  was  now  his  bitter 
grief.  He  wanted  to  live  to  see  his  family  again, — but  more,  far 
more,  he  said,  to  recover  lost  opportunities.  He  sent  for  his  fellow- 
officers,  told  them  his  mistake  and  asked  their  forgiveness ;  while  he 
trusted  in  the  Saviour  for  his  own  forgiveness. 

"  I  die  as  a  Christian,"  he  said  to  me,  "  and  I  die  contented ;  but, 
oh,  if  I  could  have  died  as  a  Christian  worker !" 

"  I  am  peaceful  and  assured  in  view  of  death,"  he  said  again,  "  but 
I  am  not  joyful  and  glad ;  those  three  lost  years  keep  coming  back 
upon  me ;"  then  lying  a  moment  quiet  with  closed  eyes,  he  added, 
"  Chaplain,  do  you  suppose  we  shall  be  able  to  forget  anything  in 
heaven  ?  I  ivould  like  to  forget  those  three  years." 


CHAPTER    XY. 

THE  PRISONERS  IN  THE  SOUTH. 

WITH   NOTICES  OF  THOSE  WHO  RETURNED  TO  ANNAPOLIS. 

Our  purpose  throughout  this  volume  has  been  to  give 
a  representative,  and  not  an  exhaustive,  collection  of  in 
cidents.  We  do  not  propose  to  deviate  from  that  plan  in 
this  chapter ;  nor  to  enter  into  the  history  of  the  Southern 
prisons ;  but  to  group  a  few  narratives, — especially  of 
the  religious  life  of  the  men  who  suffered  in  them.  The 
best  method  of  presentation  is  the  general  one  of  our 
chapters, — the  chronological. 

Eev.  C.  C.  McCabe,1  Chaplain  of  121st  Ohio  Eegi- 
ment,  was  taken  prisoner  with  the  Regimental  Surgeon 
in  June,  1863,  after  Gen.  Milroy's  abandonment  of  Win 
chester.  The  news  of  Gettysburg  was  brought  to  Libby 
Prison,  where  the  Chaplain  was  confined.  He  tells  how 
the  prisoners  received  it : — 

I  had  a  relative  in  Richmond,  a  staunch  Rebel.  The  day  they 
received  the  first  tidings  from  Gettysburg  he  came  to  see  me,  his  face 
wreathed  in  smiles : 

"  Have  you  heard  the  news  ?" 

"What  news?"  How  we  heard 

.  oj  Gettysburg  in 

"  Forty  thousand  Yankee  prisoners  in  the  Valley 

on  their  way  to  Richmond  !" 


1  Member  of  Ohio  Conference,  Meth.  Epis.  Church.     Chaplain  McCabe  was 
afterwards  a  collecting  agent  for  the  Commission,  principally  in  the  West. 

395 


396 


CHRISTIAN   COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 


I  was  astounded.  In  dumb  amazement  I  listened  to  the  Rebel 
officers  speculating  where  the  new  prisoners  should  be  stowed  away 
and  how  they  were  to  be  fed.  I  went  up  stairs  and  told  the  news. 
Despondency  settled  down  into  every  heart.  That  night,  as  we  assem 
bled  for  "  family  prayers,"  and  sang,  as  was  always  our  wont,  the 
long-metre  Doxology,  it  trembled  out  from  quivering  lips  up  to  Him 
who  has  said,  "  Glorify  ye  Me  in  the  fires."  We  felt  we  were  so 
doing  that  night,  if  never  before. 


NEWS   IN    LIBBY     PRISON. 


I  slept  none  that  night,  listening  wearily  to  the  watch  calling  the 
hours  and  singing  out  as  he  did  so,  "  All's  well."  When  the  day 
broke  I  waited  for  the  footsteps  of  "  Old  Ben,"  a  character  well  known 
to  every  inmate  of  Libby.  He  was  an  old  slave 
Union  black  man,  who  was  the  prison  news-agent  and 


One  Cipher  too 
Many. 


sold  papers  at  twenty-five  cents  a-piece.     At  last  his 


LIBBY    PEISON.  397 

\ 

footfall  came.     He  pushed  the  door  ajar,  looked  round  for  a  moment 
upon  the  sleepers,  and  then  raising  up  his  arms,  shouted — 

"  Great  news  in  de  papers  !" 

Did  you  ever  see  a  resurrection  ?  I  never  did  but  once.  Oh,  how 
those  men  sprang  to  their  feet;  and  what  was  the  news?  The  tele 
graph  operator  at  Martinsburg,  when  putting  those  ciphers  to  the 
four,  had  clicked  his  instrument  once  too  often.  There  was  a  mistake 
of  only  thirty-six  thousand !  More  yet !  Lee  was  driven  back ;  the 
Potomac  was  swollen  ;  the  pontoons  were  washed  away !  I  have  stood 
by  when  friends  long  parted  meet  again  with  raining  tears  and  fond 
embrace,  but  never  did  I  witness  such  joy  as  swept  into  these  strong 
men's  faces,  where  the  deepest  sorrow  sat  but  a  moment  before. 

Well,  what  did  we  do  ?     Why,  we  sang ;  sang  as  saved  men  do ; 
sang  till  Captains  Flynn  and  Sawyer,  immured  in  the  lowest  dungeon 
below  and  doomed  to  die  within  ten  days,  heard  us  and  wondered  ; 
sang  till  the  very  walls  of  Libby  quivered  in  the 
melody  as  five  hundred  of  us  joined  in  the  chorus      o 
of  Mrs.  Julia  Ward  Howe's  "  Battle  Hymn  of  the 
Kepublic" : 

"Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  Glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord ; 
He  is  trampling  out  the  vintage  where  the  grapes  of  wrath  are  stored  ; 
He  hath  loosed  the  fateful  lightning  of  His  terrible,  swift  sword : 
His  Truth  is  marching  on. 

"  I  have  seen  Him  in  the  watch-fires  of  a  hundred  circling  camps ; 
They  have  builded  Him  an  altar  in  the  evening  dews  and  damps ; 
I  have  read  His  righteous  sentence  by  the  dim  and  flaring  lamps  : 
His  day  is  marching  on. 

"  I  have  read  a  fiery  Gospel  writ  in  burnished  rows  of  steel, 
'As  ye  deal  with  My  contemners,  so  with  you  My  Grace  shall  deal :' 
Let  the  Hero,  born  of  woman,  crush  the  serpent  with  His  heel, 
Since  God  is  marching  on. 

"  He  has  sounded  forth  the  trumpet  that  shall  never  call  retreat ; 
He  is  sifting  out  the  hearts  of  men  before  His  judgment-seat : 
O !  be  swift,  my  soul,  to  answer  Him !  be  jubilant,  my  feet ! 
Our  God  is  marching  on. 


398  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS 

"  In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies,  Christ  was  born  across  the  sea, 
With  a  glory  in  His  bosom  that  transfigures  you  and  me ; 
As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men  free, 
While  God  is  marching  on. 

"  CHORUS— Glory,  Glory,  Hallelujah  !" 

It  was  early ;  I  am  not  sure  but  we  woke  up  the  President  of  the 
Confederacy  himself  with  that  song. 

It  was  the  Fourth  of  July,  and  we  determined  to  have  a  celebration. 

Our  programme  was  already  arranged, — speeches,  toasts  and  songs. 

But  where  should  we  get  a  flag  ?     There  were  several  in  the  prison  ; 

but   they  were  below  in  the  office,  turned   inglori- 

ouslv  upside-down  before  the  Confederate   banner. 

in  Lobby.  J 

We  might  make  a  flag ;  but  whence  the  material  ?  A 
happy  thought  occurred  to  us.  A  man  was  found  who  wore  a  red 
shirt ;  another  had  a  blue  one ;  white  (?)  shirts  were  plenty.  From 
a  combination  of  these  at  last  emerged  the  emblem  of  liberty  with 
all  the  thirty-four  stars.  One  of  Grant's  men  was  chosen  to  hang 
the  flag  from  the  rafters, — no  easy  task,  but  successfully  and  safely 
accomplished.  I  never  saw  men  gaze  so  long  and  earnestly  at  a  flag 
before  or  since.  What  memories  it  called  up ! 

Col.  Streight,  the  President  of  the  Day,  made  an  opening  speech, 
in  which  he  enjoined  upon  us  not  to  make  too  much  noise,  else  the 
Rebels  would  interrupt.  Just  as  he  closed,  a  Confederate  officer 
made  his  appearance  and  addressed  the  Colonel — 

"  Col.  Streight,  by  order  of  the  Captain  commanding,  this  fuss  must 
stop." 

" '  Fuss/  "  said  the  Colonel,  "  do  you  call  this  a  '  fuss '  ?  Do  I  un 
derstand  you  to  mean  that  we  can't  celebrate  the  Fourth  of  July 
here?" 

"Yes,  sir,  you  can,  but — "and  just  then  looking  up,  he  spied  the 
flag.  It  evidently  astonished  him.  He  looked  at  it  intently  and 
long.  Finally  the  power  of  speech  returned  : 

"  Somebody  take  that  flag  down." 

A  man  back  in  the  rear  rose,  and  said  in  a  trembling  voice — 

"  Let  any  Union  boy  here  touch  that  flag  that  dares !" 

None  of  us  moved.  The  officer's  command  was  repeated.  No 
one  stirred.  He  must  execute  his  own  order,  so  he  began  the  peril 
ous  ascent.  He  was  not  quite  so  light-limbed  as  the  man  who  had 


ANDERSONVILLE.  399 

put  it  up,  and  it  looked  once  or  twice  as  if  he  would  pretty  surely 
come  down  with  a  crash  and  without  his  prize,  but  he  finally  succeeded. 
Such  was  our  humiliation.  Little  did  we  think  of  the  compensa 
tion.  Little  did  we  know  of  the  full  import  of  the  Gettysburg  vic 
tory  ;  much  less  of  that  other  flag  coming  down  that  very  day  at 
Vicksburg,  —  \f  the  Gibraltar  of  the  Rebellion!" 

where  the  witnesses  were  not  a  few  half-starved  and  ompen 

sation. 
half-clad   captives,   but   a  vanquished   Confederate 

army. 

So  God  " commanded  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness!" 

In  the  midst  of  the  long  weariness  of  captivity,  there 
was  no  inner  help  and  consolation  equal  to  that  afforded 
by  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  Rev.  Benj.  Parsons,  a  Dele 
gate  in  August,  1863,  to  the  right  of  Rosecrans'  army, 
recalls  this  incident : 

Sergeant  Thos.  A.  Cord,  of  the  19th  U.  S.  Infantry,  was  a  mem 
ber  of  an  association  of*  Christians  in  the  division  to  which  his  regi 
ment  belonged.    Owing  to  the  pressure  of  military  duty  and  the  cold 
indifference  of  superior  officers,  he  and  his  compan 
ions,  only  four  or  five  in  number,  were  obliged  to      T  .,       . 
obtain    by  stealth   the  privilege  of   social   prayer. 
When  off  duty  they  betook  themselves  to  a  secluded  spot  in  a  wood, 
and  there  poured  out  their  hearts  together  in  prayer  and  praise.     At 
Chickamauga  the  Sergeant  was  taken  prisoner.     Through  some  of 
his  escaped  comrades  we  hear  that  he  has  been  appointed  by  his  fel 
low-prisoners  to  conduct  a  prayer  meeting  at  night  in  a  subterranean 
apartment  within  the  stockade  at  Andersonville.     Faithful  to  his 
country,  to  his  comrades  and  to  Christ  in  the  quiet  camp,  he  was 
found  foremost  among  the  faithful  in  the  land  of  captivity. 

The  Christian  Commission  held  meetings  at  Chatta 
nooga,  in  January  and  February,  1864,  which  were 
attended  by  Mr.  Thos.  J.  Sheppard,1  a  soldier  of  an 

1  Afterwards,  in  Summer  of  1865,  a  Delegate  of  the  Commission  to  aid  in  fin 
ishing  Western  work. 

f 


400  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Ohio  regiment,  afterwards  a  prisoner  at  Andersonville. 
He  writes : 

A  young  man  rose  one  evening  at  the  Chattanooga  meetings,  and 
told  us  he  was  a  sutler ;  he  desired  to  make  confession  of  his  wrong 
doing,  and  under  a  sense  of  his  sinfulness  asked  the  prayers  of  God's 

people  that  he  might  become  a  Christian.     He  said 
The  Converted       ,1,1  ,  •  ^  i  i 

„  that  he  was  on  his  way  home  to  be  a  better  man, 

and  then  added — 

"  If  ever  I  come  into  the  army  again,  it  will  be  with  a  gun  on  my 
shoulder." 

His  confession  made  the  profoundest  impression  upon  the  soldiers. 
Their  marvel  was  at  the  radical  nature  of  the  change  which  the 
Grace  of  God  had  effected. 

"  There's  no  use  doubting  God's  power  in  converting  men,"  said 
they,  "  when  He  makes  a  soldier  out  of  a  sutler." 

And  nobly  did  the  renewed  man  fulfill  his  vows. 

Months  afterwards  at  Andersonville,  a  soldier  who  had  volunta 
rily  remained  to  care  for  the  sick  when  it  was1  supposed  he  was  going 
to  the  lines  for  exchange, — one  who  was  known  throughout  all  that 
prison  as  an  earnest  disciple  of  Christ,  said  to  me — 

"  Do  you  remember  how  a  sutler  asked  the  prayers  of  Christians 
in  a  meeting  at  Chattanooga,  and  promised,  if  he  carne  out  again,  to 
come  as  a  Christian  and  a  soldier  ?" 

"  Certainly,  I  do." 

"  I  am  that  sutler,"  was  his  reply. 

Amid  rags  and  filth  and  sickness,  faithful  and  patient,  there  was 
no  Christian  Commission  Delegate  who  ever  more  beautifully  illus 
trated  the  Gospel  of  temporal  and  spiritual  relief,  than  did  Sergeant 
Frank  W.  S ,  of  the  124th  Ohio. 

Rev.  J.  W.  Hough,  a  Delegate  to  Camp  Distribution, 
near  Washington,  in  June,  1864,  furnishes  the  follow 
ing  narrative : 

In  the  Autumn  of  1861,  a  volunteer  cavalry  company  of  home 
guards  was  formed  in  Williston,  Vt., — half  in  sport,  half  for  the 
sake  of  drill.  A  member  of  Williams  College,  who  was  passing  his 


ANDERSONVILLE.  401 

vacation  in  the  village,  was  chosen  Chaplain  of  the 

„          XT        ^r     ,  The  Memorial 

company.    A  gentleman  from  JNew  York,  connected       ™ 

with  the  Bible  Society,  sent  a  bundle  of  Testaments 
to  distribute  among  the  members.     One  Sabbath   afternoon  these 
were  presented,  with  an  address  by  the  Chaplain  upon  the  "  Chris 
tian  soldier." 

One  of  these  Testaments  has  come  back  to  Williston,  and  lies  be 
fore  me  as  I  write.  On  the  fly-leaf  there  is  an  inscription  in  the 
Chaplain's  hand-writing — 

"  Williston  Cavalry  Company,  September,  1861 ;"  and  beneath  it 
is  pencilled  his  name, — "  Charles  B.  Chapiu." 

He  enlisted  in  the  Summer  of  1862,  in  the  1st  Vermont  Cav.,  and 
the  little  Testament  was  carried  to  the  war.  It  traversed  Virginia 
from  Harper's  Ferry  to  Petersburg,  and  rode  with  its  owner,  under 
Kilpatrick's  lead,  within  the  defences  of  Richmond.  On  May  5th, 
the  day  of  the  first  fighting  in  the  Wilderness,  Chapin  became  a 
prisoner,  and  it  went  with  him.  Its  owner  had  been  previously 
learning  the  value  of  the  little  book.  During  the  busy  campaigns 
in  which  he  had  proved  himself  a  cool,  courageous  soldier,  there  had 
sprung  up  in  his  heart  a  new  life.  He  could  never  trace  its  history, 
or  fix  its  dates. 

"  I  could  not  go  into  action  without  committing  myself  to  God  in 
silent  prayer,"  he  wrote ;  "  and  presently  I  came  to  feel  that  my 
prayers  were  answered." 

He  had  learned  the  secret  of  faith  in  God ;  and  so  the  little  Testa 
ment  became  a  priceless  treasure  during  the  long  days  at  Anderson- 
ville. 

When  captured,  his  watch  was  taken  from  him,  his  money  and 
even  his  pocket-knife  also ;  but  a  memorandum-book  and  the  Testa 
ment  he  was  permitted  to  retain.  Together  these  volumes  tell  the 
tale  of  his  prison-life ;  giving  hints  and  brief  suggestions  of  suffer 
ings  which  could  never  be  told,  and  of  joys  which  even  that  life  of 
horror  could  not  wholly  darken.  The  diary  paints  the  dark  side  of 
the  picture ;  a  sentence  here  and  there  bringing  out  vividly  the  inde 
scribable  filth  and  wretchedness  of  the  prison,  the  intolerable  heat, 
the  ever-increasing  insufficiency  of  rations,  the  progress  of  disease, 
the  sinking  of  the  heart,  as  hope  almost  gave  way  before  despair, 
which  wrung  out  the  groan — 

26 


402  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  0  God  !  will  there  never  be  an  exchange  ?" 

But  the  well-worn  Testament  goes  into  the  inner  life,  and  tells  a 
heart-history  in  its  marked  passages.  A  large  class  of  these  was  evi 
dently  made  forcible  by  the  surroundings  of  prison-life ;  as,  for  ex 
ample,  Christ's  discourse  upon  the  "Living  Bread,"  in  St.  John's 
sixth  chapter ;  many  of  St.  Paul's  allusions  to  his  imprisonment ; 
and  St.  Stephen's  martyrdom.  Others  struck  a  deeper  chord ;  as 
Christ's  prayer  for  His  disciples,  after  the  assurance,  "  In  this  world 
ye  shall  have  tribulation  ;"  the  close  of  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  Ro 
mans,  beginning,  "  Who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ? 
Shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or  persecution,  or  famine,  or  nakedness, 
or  peril,  or  sword?"  St.  Peter's  injunction,  "I  think  it  not  strange, 
.concerning  the  fiery  trial  which  is  to  try  you;"  and  St.  Paul's  tri 
umphant  message  to  Timothy,  from  out  the  old  Roman  Mamertine 
dungeon,  "  I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and  the  time  of  my  depart 
ure  is  at  hand.  I  have  fought  a  good  fight ;  I  have  finished  my 
course ;  I  have  kept  the  faith  ;  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a 
crown  of  righteousness."  With  what  deep  interest  do  we  find  the 
soldier's  mark  about  these  words  (Phil.  i.  12,  21):  "But  I  would 
that  ye  should  understand,  brethren,  that  the  things  which  happened 
unto  me,  have  fallen  out  rather  unto  the  furtherance  of  the  Gospel. 
i:  For  I  know  that  this  shall  turn  to  my  salvation,  through  your 
prayers." 

After  reading  such  entries  in  his  journal  as  these — "  Cannot  get 
half  enough  to  eat ;"  "  Very,  very  hot ;"  "  Do  not  hardly  draw  half 
rations ;"  "  Had  no  blanket,  so  lay  in  the  dirt ;"  "  Water  poor ;" 
"  Washed  a  pair  of  drawers,  for  the  first  time  in  two  months  ;" — there 
is  something  inexpressibly  touching  in  finding  his  mark  upon  such 
passages  as  these — "  These  are  they  which  came  out  of  great  tribula 
tion,  and  have  washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb.  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more ; 
neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any  heat.  For  the  Lamb 
which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead 
them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters:  and  God  shall  wipe  away  all 
tears  from  their  eyes." 

Not  only  was  the  Testament  read  and  re-read  during  the  seven 
months  of  imprisonment,  but  lent  to  others  also.  The  day  of  ex 
change,  so  earnestly  prayed  for,  came  at  last,  and  when  the  wasted 


ANDERSONVILLE.  403 

form  dragged  itself  out  of  the  stockade,  the  little  volume  could  not 
be  found ;  it  was  in  the  hands  of  some  fellow-prisoner,  and  gladly 
left  that  it  might  continue  to  comfort  him.  Chapin  reached  Annap 
olis,  and  sent  a  cheerful  letter  home ;  his  father  went  down  to  bring 
him  back,  as  he  hoped,  to  the  old  fireside.  It  was  not  so  to  be. 
Starvation  and  cruelty  had  done  their  work  ;  he  had  "  fought  a  good 
fight,  the  time  of  his  departure  was  at  hand." 

Under  the  hardships  of  prison  life,  into  which  was  crowded  the 
discipline  of  a  score  of  common  years,  he  had  ripened  for  heaven. 

"  Father,  sit  down  by  me ;  I  want  to  tell  you  how  I  feel, — I  don't 
know  as  it's  just  right.  I  feel  so  perfectly  satisfied  with  all  God  has 
done.  I  wouldn't  have  one  thing  changed.  I  would  be  glad  to  go 
home  and  see  mother  again ;  but  if  God  arranges  otherwise,  it's  all 
right.  I  would  have  it  just  as  He  pleases.  Tell  Eddie  and  Allie  and 
Millie  to  meet  me  in  heaven  ;  and  tell  Mr.  Hough  to  say  to  all  my 
young  friends  in  Williston  to  meet  me  there  too." 

The  last  entry  in  his  journal  reads,  "  Mustered  for  pay  ;"  he  was 
being  "  mustered  for  pay"  indeed ;  the  Captain  of  his  salvation  was 
even  then  saying,  "  Behold  I  come  quickly,  and  My  reward  is  with 
Me."  Peacefully,  even  gladly,  he  entered  into  rest.  Let  those  who 
can,  imagine  the  contrast  between  Andersonville  and  heaven. 

During  the  weeks  in  which  he  lingered,  business  once  called  his 
father  to  Washington.  In  the  depot  there  was  a  group  of  soldiers. 
Accosting  them,  he  found  that  one  was  a  released  Andersonville 
prisoner. 

"  Did  you  know  Charley  Chapin  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Charley  Chapin  ?     Guess  I  did,"  was  the  quick  rejoinder. 

Explanations  followed,  and  the  soldier  expressed  his  surprise  that 
he  was  yet  alive.  Opening  his  knapsack  suddenly,  he  added — 

"  Here,  I've  got  a  Testament  that  belongs  to  him.  He  lent  it  to 
me  and  I  couldn't  find  him  to  return  it.  I've  read  it  through  four 
times.  I  wish  you  would  give  it  to  him." 

So  the  precious  little  book  came  back  to  him  who  had  fed  upon  it 
when  starving,  and  to  his  friends  in  whose  eyes  it  was  a  priceless 
treasure.  It  lies  on  my  table  this  afternoon,  where  the  "Chaplain" 
wrote  in  it  four  years  and  more  ago.  It  bears  on  it  the  scars  of  ser 
vice.  Itg  sides  and  edges  are  worn.  Its  back,  having  failed,  has  been 
replaced  by  a  piece  of  rough  leather,  once  apparently  part  of  a  boot- 


404  CHKISTIAX    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

leg,  carefully  stitched  on.  Its  pages  are  wonderfully  clean,  testifying 
to  the  care  with  which  it  was  used,  and  reminding  us  of  one  of  old, 
who  in  the  depths  of  an  experience,  not  wholly  dissimilar,  exclaimed — • 
"  I  have  esteemed  the  words  of  His  mouth  more  than  my  necessary 
food." 

During  October  and  November,  1864,  Rev.  J.  M. 
Clark1  labored  among  the  returned  prisoners  at  Anna 
polis.  From  liis  report  we  make  these  extracts : 

One  of  the  men  who  wished  to  be  prayed  for,  awakened  uncommon 
interest  in  our  evening  meetings.  After  a  season  of  prayer  a  con 
verted  soldier  rose  and  said — 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  that  brother  soldier  here  for 

prayers;  we  were  in  Richmond  prison  together,  and 

to     God    as    he 

used  to?"  *  nave  °^ten  Prayed  for  him." 

Soon  after,  the  penitent  rose  to  add  a  few  words 
himself: 

"  I  have  been  a  backslider  from  God.  Before  I  entered  the  army 
I  enjoyed  Christ ;  but  since,  I  have  not  lived  as  I  ought.  I've  been 
home  on  furlough,  and  if  any  one  had  heard  the  prattle  of  my  little 
boy,  he  would  have  been  struck  with  it ;  but  how  do  you  think  it  made 
me — Ids  father — feel,  when  he  said  to  his  mother, '  When  papa  comes 
to  dinner,  will  he  talk  to  God  as  he  used  to?'  Oh,  I  tell  you  it  cut 
me  to  the  heart.  I  am  determined,  if  God  please,  to  live  a  Christian 
life." 

Two  other  men  were  forward  for  prayers  at  the  same  time.  Both 
had  been  wounded  and  in  captivity,  and  now  both  came  limping 
along  together  and  bent  their  crippled  limbs  in  earnest  humility  and 
petition  before  God. 

One  of  the  saddest  sights  we  had  to  witness  were  the  paroled  men 
leaving  camp  for  home  on  furlough.  Twelve  ambulances  came  from 
the  city  to  convey  those  unable  to  walk.  About  fifty  others  hobbled 

along  on  crutches,  a  pitiable  sight!     God  help  and 
A  Crutch  Bat-       ,, 

bless  them  !     roor,  brave  fellows,  they  are  cripples 

for  life,  many  of  them  for  but  a  short  life.     It  was 


1  Pastor  of  Meth.  Episc.  Church,  Ashburnham,  Mass. 


ANNAPOLIS.  405 

mournful  to  watch  them — a  full  hundred — as  they  turned  their  faces 
homeward  ;  and  to  think  of  the  aching  eyes  that  would  fill  with 
tears  again  when  the  maimed  heroes  got  back  to  the  old  home  town. 

Eev.  Wm.  DeLoss  Love1  was  a  Delegate  at  Annapolis 
in  December,  1864.  We  add  a  few  sketches  from  his 
pen : 

When  the  steamers  bearing  the  Union  paroled  prisoners  reached 
t;he  wharf  at  Annapolis,  it  was  customary  for  the  Delegates  of  the 
Commission  and  others  to  go  down  and  greet  those  grateful,  earnest 
men,  as  they  stepped  again  on  the  shore  of  what  they 
often   termed  "  God's  country."     The  hospital  band 
also  met  them  there,  and  poured  forth  sweetest  strains      ^  Death 
of  music. 

I  was  delayed  one  day  on  the  arrival  of  a  steamer,  and  when  I 
reached  the  wharf  some  were  bearing  the  feeble,  freed  prisoners  on 
stretchers  to  the  Naval  Hospital ;  others  were  placing  some  of  their 
suffering  companions  on  a  platform  car,  which  was  to  be  rolled  along 
up  to  St.  John's  College  Hospital. 

As  I  came  near  the  steamer,  the  first  object  that  specially  attracted 
my  attention  was  an  emaciated,  feeble  man,  lying  on  one  corner  of 
the  car  platform,  the  sun  welcoming  him  with  its  gentle  and  soothing 
rays,  and  he  feebly,  but  touchingly,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  that  pretty 
band!"  My  associate  Delegate  of  the  Commission  had  taken  his 
name,  and  was  then  trying  to  learn  his  regiment  and  his  father's  name 
and  place  of  residence ;  for  it  was  evident  the  young  man  could  not 
long  survive,  and  that  unless  we  obtained  these  particulars  then,  the 
poor  soldier  would  have  that  sad  word,  "  Unknown"  placed  on  his 
little  head-board  in  the  cemetery,  and  no  relative  would  ever  know 
where  or  when  he  died  and  was  buried. 

The  soldier  was  not  yet  so  far  gone  as  to  forget  his  own  name,  but 
he  was  obliged  to  take  a  little  time  for  thought  to  recall  his  regiment. 
When  the  Delegate  asked  for  his  father's  name  and  place  of  residence, 


1  Pastor  of  Spring  St.  Congregational  Church,  Milwaukee,  Wi?.,  and  Editor  of 
the  Wisconsin  Puritan. 


406  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

he  could  not  at  first  tell,  but  in  his  hard  effort  at  recollection,  said, 
"  Wait  a  little  and  I'll  get  it."  Soon  he  did  get  it,  and  then  the  atten 
tion  of  most  of  the  bystanders  was  turned  to  others. 

But  I  felt  in  my  heart  a  longing  to  know  whether  this  soldier,  so 
near  his  end,  was  a  friend  of  the  Saviour.  I  came  close,  and  putting 
my  lips  near  his  ear,  said — 

"  Do  you  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?" 

He  started  with  an  animation  not  manifested  before,  turned  his 
feeble  and  glassy  eyes  straight  and  lovingly  upon  me,  put  an  unwonted 
energy  into  his  voice,  and  replied, — 

"  My  friend,  I  do  !" 

It  was  enough.  I  never  saw  the  soldier  again.  Doubtless  ere  the 
day  wore  away  he  was  carried  by  angels  into  Rest. 

There  had  come  to  Annapolis  some  months  before,  a  skeptic  to  see 
his  severely-wounded  and  feeble  son,  who  had  recently  arrived  from 
the  Richmond  prison.  The  father  tarried,  hoping  to  witness  his  son's 

improvement,  now  that  he  had  exchanged  quarters 
The    Skeptic       •     -r  M  i        />         i  T-T.          i          i 

,,.   P  in  Lib  by  for  those  at  Annapolis.     But  the  change 

he  had  looked  for  was  of  another  character.  Gan 
grene  had  reached  the  wound,  and  the  flesh  of  the  young  man's  limb 
was  gradually  rotting  away. 

The  Surgeons  abandoned  nearly  all  hope  of  his  recovery,  and  the 
benevolent  Chaplain  told  the  father  that  his  son  must  probably  soon 
die ;  that  he  had  better  so  inform  him,  and  advise  him  to  make  all 
needful  arrangements  before  leaving  the  world. 

The  father  replied  that  he  could  not  bear  the  task,  and  asked  the 
Chaplain  to  do  it  for  him. 

"  And,"  said  he,  "  speak  to  him  in  regard  to  all  his  interests  ;  those 
of  the  future  also."  Then  he  further  added,  in  much  seriousness,-  "  I 
have  been  an  unbeliever,  a  wicked  man;  but  my  son's  mother  is  a 
Christian,  and  he  had  better  follow  her." 

The  Chaplain  gladly  went  to  the  son  and  told  the  father's  message, 
and  asked  what  reply  he  should  return. 

"  Tell  my  father,"  said  he,  "  that  I  have  not  deferred  preparation 
for  the  future  to  this  late  time.  Long,  long  ago,  previous  to  going 
into  battle,  I  gave  myself  up  to  Jesus,  and  now  am  ready  to  go  and 
meet  Him  when  He  calls  me.  Tell  him  also  that  I  hope  he  will  pre 
pare  to  meet  Him  too." 


O-   THE 

UNIVS-RSI7Y 

or 


ANNAPOLIS.  407 


This  message,  tenderly  given  by  the  Chaplain,  made  a  deep  im 
pression  on  the  loving  but  skeptical  father. 

One  evening,  as  I  sat  writing  letters  for  soldiers  in  Chaplain  Hen 
ries'  office  at  the  Annapolis  Hospital,  Division  No.  1,  there  came  into 
the  room  a  very  aged  and  feeble  man  from  Cambridge,  111.,  who  with 
trembling  and  sadness,  inquired  if  we  could  tell  him 
anything  about  his  son,  N.  H.  Tilson.  We  replied  ^  e, 
that  we  did  not  recollect  to  have  seen  him.  He  said 
that  he  had  received  a  letter  from  some  one  in  that  hospital,  inform 
ing  him  that  his  son  had  reached  there,  a  paroled  Union  prisoner  from 
Savannah.  He  further  said  that  before  receiving  that  letter  he  had 
not  heard  from  him  for  about  a  year  ;  that  then  he  learned  he  was 
probably  slain  in  a  battle  near  Knoxville,  and  he  and  his  family 
had  given  him  up  as  dead.  But  when  they  received  the  news  of  his 
arrival  and  sickness  at  Annapolis,  they  all  sat  down  and  wept  in  their 
joy,  and  then  decided  that  he  and  his  daughter  —  both  of  them  feeble 
in  health  —  must  set  out  to  find  him.  They  had  travelled  a  thousand 
miles  or  more  ;  he  had  left  his  daughter  at  the  hotel,  telling  her  that 
she  must  be  prepared  for  the  worst. 

Chaplain  Henries  told  him  that  he  would  go  through  the  wards 
and  make  inquiry  for  his  son.  After  he  had  gone,  I  endeavored  to 
comfort  the  dear  old  man  —  a  warm-hearted  Christian  —  by  saying 
that  we  found  many  of  the  prisoners  from  Andersonville  who  had 
either  been  converted  there  or  soon  after  their  arrival  at  Annapolis. 
He  replied  in  tears  that  his  chief  prayer  for  his  son  all  along  had  been 
that,  if  still  living,  he  might  become  a  Christian. 

While  thus  conversing,  I  turned  over  the  leaves  of  my  Commission 
note-book,  then  nearly  full,  to  see  if  I  could  find  any  trace  of  the  son 
of  this  aged  man.  At  last  I  discovered  his  name,  but  did  not  at  first 
mention  my  discovery,  lest  I  should  find  there  also  a  record  of  his 
death.  Glancing  rapidly  along  the  lines,  I  found  this:  "1ST.  Holmes 
Tilson,  Cambridge,  Henry  Co.,  111.  Been  in  prison  a  year;  taken 
prisoner  at  Knoxville,  Tenn.,  Nov.  18th,  1863  ;  became  a  Christian 
last  of  June  or  first  of  July  at  Andersonville.  Not  heard  from  home 
for  about  eleven  months." 

I  read  my  sketch  to  the  father  ;  he  was  so  overcome  with  joy  that 
he  could  scarcely  speak.  Soon  the  Chaplain  returned  with  the  glad 
news  that  he  had  found  him.  He  said  that  as  he  went  into  the  room 


408 


CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 


where  the  boy  lay,  he  recognized  him  as  one  he  had  several  times 
visited  alone  and  with  myself;  but  in  the  multitude  his  name  had 
been  forgotten.  The  young  man  said— 

"  Chaplain,  you  have  not  been  to  see  me  in  a  great  while.  Have 
you  got  a  letter  from  my  father  ?" 

'  No,  I  have  no  letter  from  him.  What  would  you  give  to  see 
your  father  ?" 

"  I  will  give  twenty-five  dollars  this  minute !" 
"Wei],  I'll  go  and  bring  him." 

This  last  sentence  was  uttered  so  playfully  that  the  lad  hardly 
knew  what  he  meant,  and  presumed  it  could  not  be  that  his  father 
had  come. 

But  soon  the  Chaplain  escorted  the  old  man  to  the  room  where  the 
boy  lay.  The  father  hurried  over  to  the  low  cot  in  the  corner,  knelt 
down,  put  his  arms  about  his  son,  and  the  son  threw  his  arms  about 
his  father's  neck,  and  there  they  kissed  each  other  and  wept. 

The  lost  son  was  found,— in  more  senses  than  one,  the  father 
thought,  Not  only  had  the  Lord  found  him  at  Andersonville,  but 
in  a  few  days  it  was  evident  that  he  would  never  recover,  and  that 
the  earthly  loss  would  be  the  heavenly  finding. 

Perhaps  one  of  the  most  remarkable  episodes  of  the 
history  of  the  war,  if  it  could  be  fully  written,  would  be 
the  narrative  of  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  in  Ander 
sonville  stockade.  Little  however  remains  beyond  the 
mere  outline  shreds  of  an  account.  Eev.  J.  M.  Clark, 
who  after  his  first  Delegate's  experience,  became  the 
Commission's  permanent  agent  at  Annapolis,  preserves 
a  few  disconnected  relations  of  soldiers  concerning  this 
phase  of  the  story  of  the  prison  : 

Among  the  thousands  of  unfortunate  men  imprisoned,  there 
were  some  Christians  and  Christian  ministers,  who  were  willing  to 
preach  the  Word  in  season  and  out  of  season.  These  were  called 

TheGoxpdin  "ClmPlains;"  l  suppose  few  if  any  of  them  held 
Andersonville.  commissions. 

Within  the  bounds  of  the  camp  there  were  three 


ANDERSONVILLE ANNAPOLIS.  409 

spots  where  the  men  were  accustomed  to  hold  preaching  and  other 
services  in  the  evenings.  When  the  smaller  area  was  too  strait 
for  the  congregation,  notice  was  proclaimed  for  the  next  meeting  in  a 
larger  space.  The  spot  most  frequently  used  was  on  the  south  side 
of  the  stream,  in  the  place  used  for  the  execution  of  the  six  criminals, 
or  "  raiders"  as  they  were  called.  The  attendants  numbered  as  high 
as  four,  five  and  six  hundred  at  a  time.  Sad  to  say,  the  soldiers' 
te&timony  was  that  they  were  often  disturbed  by  wicked  fellow- 
prisoners  on  the  outskirts  of  the  congregation.  The  meetings  how 
ever  were  attended  and  sustained  by  sincere,  earnest  men,  whose 
labors  were  not  in  vain. 

Many  of  the  men  tell  me  that  it  was  in  the  time  of  their  captivity 
that  they  "  began  to  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord."  Some  of  them 
told  touching  stories  of  their  weakness  and  consequent  inability  to  get 
to  the  prison  prayer  meetings.  Said  one — 

"•'  I  was  too  weak  to  walk,  yet  I  wanted  to  go  to  the  meeting ;  so  I 
crawled  upon  my  hands  and  knees  half-way  and  got  where  I  could 
hear,  and  stopped  there  thinking  I  could  pray.  Afterwards  I  crept 
back  to  my  old  place." 

One  poor  fellow  who  had  been  very  wicked,  became  too  sick  to  leave 
his  place.  He  had  a  desire  to  go  to  the  meeting;  so  two  of  his  com 
rades  took  him  up  and  carried  him.  Lying  upon  the  ground  amid 
the  congregation,  he  listened  and  was  deeply  convicted  of  sin.  A 
number  of  devout  soldiers  gathered  about  and  prayed  for  him.  He 
was  converted  and  shortly  after  began  to  recover. 

In  one  of  our  wards  at  Annapolis  lay  a  brave  soldier,  who  had 
escaped  with  life  and  no  more.  He  was  continually  recurring  to 
thoughts  of  the  old  prison  meetings.  The  first  evening  I  met  him  he 

was  suffering  from  a  severe  cough,  which  continued 

.  ,  i  .    .          .     .         n  -.  Prayinq    for 

with  scarcely  any  intermission  for  more  than   two      Enemies 

hours.     His  agony  was  intense,  and  great  drops  of 

sweat  trickled  from  his  brow.     Meanwhile  his  heroic  wife  stood  at  his 

side,  grave  and  composed,  as  she  had  been  through  many  anxious 

days.     In  the  intervals  of  coughing  he  would  offer  short  prayers  like 

this— 

"  O  Lord,  bless  those  men  whose  cruel  treatment  has  caused  all 
this  suffering;  have  mercy  upon  them  and  show  them  the  right  way; 
give  them  life, — eternal  life." 


410  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

At  another  time,  as  we  stood  by  him,  he  said — 

"  The  blessed  Lord  has  been  very  good  to  me.  Oh,  yes,  He  has 
brought  me  out  of  that  horrible  prison ;  yes,  He  heard  my  prayer ; 
He  can  make  me  well.  They  did  use  me  badly,  wife  ;  the  Lord  have 
mercy  on  them  !  Oh,  I  think  of  the  poor  prisoners  left  behind.  They 
are  wicked — many  of  them.  I  have  heard  them  swear  and  curse 
and  mock  those  who  prayed ;  and  after  a  few  days  I  have  seen  them 
go  to  the  meetings  and  fall  down  upon  their  knees  to  pray  ;  and  some 
of  them  came  away  with  new  hopes.  Oh,  yes,  the  Lord  heard  prayer 
for  sinners  there  ;  He  hears  prayer  always..  How  good  He  has  been 
to  me !" 

In  the  same  room  lay  another  poor  boy  whose  severe  sufferings 
moved  all  to  pity.  He  had  been  a  prisoner  for  fifteen  months,  and 
had  endured  even  more  than  the  usual  privations.  Both  his  feet  were 
frozen,  discolored,  swollen  and  intensely  painful. 
p  ,.„  So  acute  were  his  sufferings  that  the  tears  forced 

themselves  from  his  eyes  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  re 
strain  them.  I  tried  to  soothe  him,  and  asked — 

"  Is  there  anything  more  I  can  do  for  you  ?" 

He  looked  earnestly  up  in  my  face  and  answered — 

"  Give  me  a  prayer,  if  you  please." 

So  kneeling  by  his  side,  I  besought  the  Lord  for  him.  During  the 
night,  the  nurse  told  me,  he  was  much  engaged  in  prayer.  Early 
the  next  morning  he  died. 

Rev.  Dr.  Patterson  puts  into  a  few  earnest  words  his 
experience  of  the  prayer  meetings  at  Annapolis,  attended 
by  the  returned  prisoners  in  March,  1865 : 

If  one  wants  to  know  what  prayer  and  thanksgiving  mean,  he 
must  hear  our  returned  prisoners  pour  out  their  hearts  before  God 
for  the  redemption  from  Southern  bondage,  and  supplicate  for  their 

brethren  still  in  the  prison-house.     Choirs,  organs, 
A    Prisoners'       rp     T^  T^        i  i        i    ^  •          1-1 

Prayer  Meeting.      le  Deums>  Doxologies  are  poor,  dumb  things  beside 

the  tears  streaming  down  the  smoke-dyed  cheeks  of 
these  veterans  ;  and  as  the  manly,  trumpet  voice  quivers  and  grows 
husky,  and  breaks  down  in  sobs  at  the  throne  of  grace,  one  begins  to 


ANNAPOLIS.  411 

know  what  is  meant  by  "intercession  with  groanings  which  cannot 
be  uttered." 

There  is  a  lad  of  nineteen  who  stands  up  and  says — 

"  I  promised  the  Lord  that  if  ever  I  got  out  of  prison  I  would 
stand  up  for  Him  the  very  first  chance;  and  now  I  want  to  serve 
Him,  and  I  ask  your  prayers." 

There  is  another  who  can  only  hang  his  head  and  weep,  and  stand 
up  also  when  the  invitation  is  given.  Just  behind  him  a  manly- 
looking  fellow  gets  up  and  says — 

"  Ain't  there  some  more  here  who  promised  God  if  He  wouid  get 
them  out  that  they  would  be  Christians? — Now,  soldiers,  don't  be 
afraid  of  men.  We  weren't  afraid  of  men  in  Salisbury.  We  can't 
put  down  God  with  a  lie,  no  how.  Just  speak  out  and  don't  be 
ashamed  of  Christ.  He  was  not  afraid  to  be  ridiculed.  He  was  put 
to  the  most  ridiculous  kind  of  usage  and  death  for  us.  Now,  stand 
up  for  Him."  Thus  the  meeting  goes  on. 

Mr.  Chas.  Harris,1  a  Delegate  at  Camp  Parole  in 
April,  1865,  recalls  a  few  interesting  incidents  of  the 
meetings  and  hospital  work : 

An  Irish  soldier,  who  had  been  formerly  in  the  navy,  was  led  to 
Christ  at  our  meetings.  He  was  a  tall,  noble-looking  man  ;  and  his 
change  seemed  to  be  thorough  and  deep.  He  thought  a  great  deal 

of  a  certain  corner  of  the  chapel  in  which  he  had  been 

..-.  .-,       ..  •,          .,       «      •  How  a  Sail  or 

wont  to  sit  about  the  time  when  the  Saviour  was      n          „,  .  . 

Lame  to  (Jfinst. 

seeking  him.  He  used  to  speak  of  it  as  his  "sweet 
little  corner,"  and  was  under  the  impression  that  the  Spirit  was  some 
how  there  especially  present.  When  any  one  from  that  quarter  rose 
to  ask  for  the  prayers  of  those  present,  the  Irishman's  heart  used  to 
go  out  towards  them  with  special  sympathy  and  a  strong  faith  in 
their  salvation.  When  we  asked  him  how  he  came  to  think  of 
coming  to  Christ  after  so  many  years  of  careless  trifling,  he  said — 

"The  Lord  got  His  grapnel-irons  a  hold  of  me ;  He  pulled  on  the 
starboard  side,  and  then  He  pulled  on  the  larboard  side,  till  I  could 
not  hold  out  any  longer,  and  so  I  surrendered  the  ship." 


1  City  Missionary  of  Peoria,  111. 


412  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Poor  fellows!  God  only  knows  how  utterly  disheartening  their 
trials  had  been.  One  of  the  soldiers  in  the  hospital  asked  the  nurse 
to  bear  a  message  for  him, — the  tragedy  and  hopelessness  of  which 

are  beyond  all  conception  : 
"  I  am  Dead."  ,,   .    -,       •,       ^,    .  ,.        ^  .     . 

"  Ask  the  Christian  Commission  man   to  write  a 

letter  to  my  sister,  and  to  tell  her  that  I  am  dead  and  to  come  for 
my  body." 

So  much  has  been  written  upon  the  subject,  and  so 
few  villages  throughout  the  North  lack  stories — always 
told  with  horror  and  tears — of  their  own  unreturning 
men  who  had  been  carried  away  into  the  hopeless  coun 
try,  that  we  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  enter  into 
the  harrowing  details  of  imprisonment  miseries.  With 
Rev.  Mr.  Clark's  account  of  the  arrival  at  Annapolis  of 
2739  paroled  men,  on  March  9th,  1865,  we  shall  close 
this  chapter  : 

It  has  always  been  my  custom  to  meet  the  transports  at  the  wharf 

and  to  render,  especially  to  the  sick  and  disabled,  all  the  assistance 

in  my  power.     Stimulants — cherry  cordial  and  brandy — given  under 

the  inspection  and  with  the  approval  of  the  Surgeons, 

were  most  valuable  in  reviving  the  men,  and  in  pro- 
oners  came  into 
Annapolis.  longing  or  saving  life. 

The  scene  on  one  of  the  boats  was  beyond  descrip 
tion.  After  the  comparatively  well  men  had  passed  to  the  wharf,  I 
went  below  to  the  lower  deck,  where  seventy-five  poor  fellows  lay  in 
that  dark,  close  part  of  the  vessel,  unable  to  help  themselves;  filthy, 
ragged,  infested  with  vermin.  These  sufferers  were  without  shirts, 
many  of  them  barefoot,  and  some  absolutely  naked;  others  with  their 
fleshless  limbs  exposed,  and  themselves  too  feeble  to  gather  what 
shreds  and  rags  there  were  about  them.  One  man  was  helped  along 
towards  the  hatchway,  a  naked  skeleton,  with  only  a  blanket  thrown 
over  his  shoulders.  Another  lay  utterly  nude,  and  so  demented  as 
not  to  notice  his  exposure.  I  covered  him  with  a  bit  of  matting  that 
lay  near,  and  gave  him  some  cordial.  Another  lay  stark  and  dead, 
on  his  right  side,  in  the  same  position  of  contortion  and  agony  in 


AT    AXX4POLIS    WHAEF.  413 

which  he  had  died.  By  the  dim  light  of  a  lantern,  I  went  to  every 
man  and  offered  him  a  cordial ;  many  were  too  weak  to  drink,  save 
with  the  greatest  difficulty.  Two  dead  bodies  lay  on  deck,  covered 
with  coarse  bagging.  I  lifted  the  cover  to  look  at  the  face  of  one ; 
it  was  a  countenance  of  complete  emaciation  and  agony.  A  thought 
less  prisoner  looking  on,  said  with  a  laugh — 

"  Give  him  a  drink." 

One  man  on  a  stretcher,  on  the  way  up  to  the  hospital  seemed  very 
weak  and  faint.  The  bearers  paused,  and  I  lifted  up  his  head  to  give 
him  the  cup  with  cordial.  His  thin,  trembling  hand  carried  it  to 

his  lips,  then  holding  it  out  from  him,  he  said — 

_ ,        T          Deliverance. 
"  Here  s  bad  luck   to  the  Confederacy.      May  I 

never  fall  into  their  hands  again." 

There  was  something  in  the  words  and  action  which  thrilled  the 
bystanders. 

A  man  tottered  down  the  plank  from  the  transport,  pale  and  hag 
gard,  but  with  a  smile  upon  his  face.  As  he  neared  the  wharf,  he 

raised  his  fragment  of  a  hat,  swung  it  in  the  air  and 

.  ,  Too   Weak  to 

tried  to  cheer,  but  his  voice  was  too  weak  to  make  a      ^eer 

sound.     All  took  the  will   for  the  deed,   and   the 
nurses  conducted  him  to  the  hospital. 

Another  prisoner  told  me  of  his  feelings  when  he  came  into  our 
lines  to  embark : 

"  I  thought  I  should  shout  lustily,  but  when  the  moment  came  I 
was  speechless ;  my  emotions  were  unutterable.     I 
felt  only  as  if  I  would  like  to  go  down  and  kiss  the 
deck  of  the  transport,  over  which  floated  the  dear  old  stripes  and 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE    WESTERN  ARMIES. 

FROM    THE    FALL    OF    ATLANTA    TO    THE    CLOSE    OF    COMMISSION    WORK;     WITH 
SOME    NOTICES    OF    HOSPITAL    AND    OTHER    WORK    BEFORE    ATLANTA    FELL. 

June  1864— September  1865. 

THE  great  hospitals  in  the  rear  were  soon  overflowing 
with  patients  from  the  front,  both  sick  and  wounded. 
In  June,  Mr.  A.  E.  Chamberlain  writes  from  Cincin 
nati  : 

A  friend  telegraphed  me  from  Northern  Michigan  to  go  and  see 
his  son,  Willian  Van  Tine,  a  soldier  in  Marine  Hospital.  I  did  so, 
and  afterwards  continued  to  attend  him  in  his  sickness.  He  had 

been  married  only  a  few  months  before  coming  into 
"I  Have  Gone 
Home»  the  army,  and  now,  the  burgeon  told   me,  he  must 

die.  He  was  very  cheerful  about  it,  and  continued 
so  during  all  his  sufferings.  When  very  near  his  end,  I  received  a 
despatch  from  his  father,  saying  that  he  would  be  at  the  hospital 
next  morning.  Van  Tine  looked  up  at  me  when  I  told  him,  with  a 
pleasant  smile  on  his  face : 

"  That  will  be  good,  but  he  won't  find  me  here.  I  shall  be  gone 
before  that." 

The  soldier's  words  were  evidently  true ;  I  asked  him  for  a  last 
message  for  his  father.  He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  the  smile  still 
clinging  about  his  lips  and  eyes,  and  then  said — 

"  Tell  him  I  have  gone  home." 

"  Have  you  any  message  for  your  wife?" 

"  Tell  her  I  have  gone  home." 

"  Is  there  nothing  more  you  want  to  say,  William,— no  other  mes 
sage  I  can  bear  for  you  ?" 

414 


NASHVILLE.  415 

"  No  ;  that  is  enough.  They  will  all  understand  it, — I  have  gone 
home." 

Could  we  have  sung  a  hymn  by  that  couch,  what  one  would  have 
been  more  appropriate  than  Dr.  Bonar's  ? — 

"  Beyond  the  parting  and  the  meeting, 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 

Beyond  the  farewell  and  the  greeting, 
Beyond  the  pulse's  fever  beating, 

I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  Best  and  Home ! 

Sweet  Home ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come." 

Within  half  an  hour  he  was  resting  at  home. 

Mrs.  E.  I.  Ford,  the  wife  of  Post-Surgeon  Ford,  of 
Nashville,  a  constant  friend  of  the  Christian  Commis 
sion,  relates  an  experience,  in  July,  of  work  in  the 
wards  of  a  new  hospital  opened  at  Nashville  for  the  men 
from  the  front : 

Most  of  the  boys,  even  those  whose  limbs  had  been  amputated, 
were  doing  well,  when  hot  weather  brought  that  scourge  of  the 
wounded,  gangrene,  which  in  spite  of  every  precaution  attacked  very 
many  of  the  patients.  With  most  of  them  it  was 

arrested ;  but  such  was  the  constant  alternation  and 

of  Hope. 

suspense  that  they  needed  more  than  usual  sympa 
thy,  and  nourishment  better  than  common.     The  Commission  Dele 
gates  were  always  gladly  welcomed. 

Soldiers  do  not  intrude  their  sorrows  upon  others ;  only  when  yon 
stoop  down  to  them,  and  ask  them  of  the  homes  they  have  left  and 
the  toils  they  have  encountered,  and  not  always  then,  may  you  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  sacrifices  they  make  for  their  country.  A  boy  of 
eighteen,  of  athletic  frame  and  cheerful  countenance,  had  suffered 
amputation  of  a  right  arm,  and  was  doing  well  when  he  was  attacked 
by  the  gangrene.  From  this  time  he  was  an  object  of  my  special 
interest  and  attention.  Many  a  little  luxury  was  procured,  but  soon 
they  were  seen  to  be  of  no  avail.  The  disease,  once  arrested,  reap- 


416  CHBISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

peared  with  renewed  violence ;  its  inroads  upon  his  constitution  could 
not  be  repaired.  A  friend  from  his  Western  home  came  to  cheer 
him  day  after  day  with  kindest  converse  and  sympathy.  One  day, 
before  an  operation,  he  said  to  me — 

"  I  feel  sometimes  like  giving  up,  but  when  I  think  of  home  and 
friends,  I  try  to  live  for  their  sakes." 

"  But,  my  boy,  you  were  brave  in  the  face  of  the  enemy  ;  can't  you 
meet  this  foe  with  the  same  courage?  You  may  have  an  Almighty 
Arm  to  lean  upon." 

"  Oh,  how  much  I  need  it !     How  I  long  to  find  it !" 

"  But  you  may  find  it  at  once ;  Jesus  says  so, — '  Come  unto  Me,  all 
ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.'" 

"Ah,  yes;  but  I've  been  such  a  sinner,  so  wicked,  such  a  hard  boy, 
— and  all  the  while  I  had  a  praying  mother  at  home." 

"  But  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  Only  re 
ceive  Him  now,  and  your  mother's  prayers  are  answered." 

He  was  soon  enabled  to  accept  the  Saviour.  He  drooped  gradually, 
and  cared  less  for  the  comforts  brought  him,  but  never  wearied  of 
listening  to  the  "  sweet  story  of  old."  He  looked  at  me  thoughtfully 
one  day,  and  said — 

"I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  I  can't  live,  and  I'm  ready  to  die; 
but,  oh,  if  I  could  only  die  at  home,  with  my  mother  and  little  sister 
beside  me,  I  should  be  satisfied !  That's  all  I  want  now."  With  an 
imploring  look,  he  added — 

"Will  you  ask  my  Doctor  if  I  may  be  carried  home?  It  is  my 
last  request,"  and  then  the  tears  came.  I  turned  away  heart-sick,  to 
entreat  for  what  I  knew  could  not  be  granted.  My  husband  assured 
me  it  would  be  impossible ;  so  I  carried  back  a  reluctant  response. 
He  was  calmer.  When  I  told  him,  he  said — 

"  I  could  hardly  have  expected  it." 

"Shall  we  send  for  your  mother?" 

"  No,"  said  he,  after  a  moment ;  "  she  is  feeble,  and  must  not  come 
here." 

No  more  earthly  complaints  were  uttered  ;  no  more  wishes  for  what 
might  not  be.  The  "Everlasting  Arms"  were  underneath  and 
around  him,  until  he  was  "  present  with  the  Lord." 

The  two  following  letters  from  a  Tennessee  cavalry- 


TULLAHOMA.  417 

man  are    remarkable    alike    for    their   earnestness   and 
their  frank,  blunt,  unmistakable  way  of  putting  things : 

TULLAHOMA,  N.  &  C.  K.  R,  TENN.,  July  18th,  1864. 
GEO.  H.  STUART — Dear  Sir  : 

Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  send  me  a  book,  the  title  of  which  is  A 
Pastor's  Sketches,  in  two  volumes  ?  In  looking  over  the  contents  I 
see  a  few  pieces,  the  headings  of  which  fit  my  case  so  well  that  / 
w'int  to  see  the  reasoning.  Paul  said  that  he  was  the 

"  chief  of  sinners,"  but  I  think  if  he  were  here  that 

an  Inner  btrije. 

I  could  drill  him  for  two  or  three  years  to  come  in 
that  well-known  science  of  the  devil — wickedness. 

I  have  taken  it  into  my  head  that  if  there  is  grace  for  the  devil's 
"  right  bower,"  I  will,  through  Christ,  try  and  obtain  it.  I  have  no 
faith  that  I  ever  shall  be  saved,  but  it  is  perhaps  worth  an  effort  in 
that  direction.  I  was  brought  to  that  conclusion  yesterday  by  read 
ing  The  Young  Irishman,1  from  A  Pastor's  Sketches.  His  case  and 
mine  are  not  parallel  by  any  means,  but  I  hope  some  of  the  other 
sketches  are.  If  I  thought  God  would  forgive  me  at  all,  I  would  go 
about  praying  with  a  light  heart,  even  though  the  blessing  was  deferred 
until  the  last  moment  of  my  existence.  But  I  have  been  so  wicked  that 
I  knoiv  He  ought  not  to  pardon,  and  I  fully  believe  He  will  not.  So 
I  do  not  feel  like  praying.  Another  thing, — I  Can't  Repent;  I  am 
Waiting  for  Conviction;  I  think  it  possible  that  I  may  have  com 
mitted  The  Unpardonable  Sin;  I  have  No  Escape ;  I  Can't  Pray ;  I 
Can't  Feel;  What  Can  I  Do?* 

I  have  not  the  amount  of  money  equal  to  the  price  of  the  two 
books,  or  I  would  cheerfully  send  it.  I,  like  the  prodigal  son,  have 
spent  my  money  in  "  riotous  living."  I  merely  ask  the  books  as  a 
favor — not  that  they  will  benefit  me ;  but  they  may  be  the  means  of 
Driving  the  Arrow  Deeper  into  my  Divided  Mind?  If  it  does  any 
good,  you  shall  hear  from  me. 

Yours  respectfully, 

A.  L.  G.,  Co.  F,  5th  Tenn.  Cav. 


1  Published  separately  in  tract  form. 

2  Those  acquainted  with  Dr.  Spencer's  invaluable  book  will  recognize  these 
phrases  as  the  titles  of  several  of  the  sections. 

27 


418  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  books  named,  with  one  or  two  others,  were  procured  and  sent 
to  him.  In  due  time  came  the  following  letter : 

TULLAHOMA,  Augwt  12th,  1864. 
DEAR  BROTHER: 

The  books  came  safely  to  hand  ;  and  they  have  more  than  met  my 
expectations  in  removing  the  obstacles  in  my  way.  I  trust,  under 
God,  through  the  merits  of  Christ,  that  every  prop  of  unbelief  and 
sin  will  be  knocked  from  under  me,  and  that  I  shall  be  compelled  by 
the  holy  influences  of  the  Divine  Spirit  to  flee  the  wrath  to  come  and 
embrace  the  truths  of  Christ  crucified. 

I  do  not  know  in  what  terms  to  express  my  gratitude  to  you  for 
your  kindness.  I  shall  study  the  precepts  of  the  books  in  as  prayer 
ful  a  manner  as  my  wricked  nature  will  permit ;  and  I  pray  God  that 
if  you  hear  from  me  again,  you  will  find  I  have  fully  embraced 
Christ. 

I  have  been  desperately  wicked,  but  I  believe  Christ  died  to  save  sin 
ners,  and  I  know  1  am  one  of  them ;  so  He  certainly  died  to  save  me. 
Brother,  will  you  pray  that  His  dying  be  not  in  vain  so  far  as  my 
individual  case  is  concerned?  I  know  you  will;  and  after  this  life 
shall  have  been  spent,  I  hope  to  make  your  acquaintance  in  that 
region  where  there  is  no  sin  to  corrupt,  no  doubts  to  blind  our  vision, 
but  where  we  shall  see  as  we  are  seen  and  be  for  ever  under  the  shadow 
of  that  love  which  fills  the  soul  with  eternal  bliss.  May  God  for  ever 
bless  you  and  yours  is  the  sincere  prayer  of  your  unworthy  brother, 

A.  L.  G.,  5th  Tenn.  Cav. 

We  have  only  one  other  trace  of  the  earnest  Tennesseean's  life. 
It  is  after  the  war,  in  a  town  of  Southern  Tennessee.  We  find  him 
laboring  to  gather  together  a  school  of  the  neglected  children  of 
the  neighborhood,  sending  for  books  for  them  as  once  he  had  done 
for  himself.  God  grant  him  full  entrance  into  the  privileges  of  the 
children  of  God! 

The  Pittsburg  Branch  of  the  Commission  had  sent  a 
large  invoice  of  crutches  to  the  office  at  Nashville.  In 
a  letter  under  date  August  10th,  1864,  to  Mr.  Wm.  P. 
Weyman,  the  Receiver  of  the  Pittsburg  Committee, 


CRUTCH   EXCHANGE. 


Page  419. 


NASHVILLE.  419 

Ilev.  Mr.  Smith  takes  this  method  of  thanking  and  of 
asking  for  more : 

I  have  sent  you  by  express  a  package  of  crutches, — a  slight  return 
for  the  fifteen  hundred  your  Commission  has  given  through  our  office 
to  the  maimed  who  come  hopping  and  hobbling  in  from  the  fights. 

And   yet  I  think  you  will   agree  with  me  that  my 

,          .  Trading  Crutches. 

package  01  a  dozen  represents  a  heavier  outlay  than 

your  boxes  of  a  thousand  and  a  half.  Each  one  of  the  sticks  I  send 
had  been  cut  and  shaped  by  a  man  who  has  lost  a  limb  or  its  use  in 
the  service.  They  are  the  representatives  of  battle-fields  all  along 
from  Lookout  Mountain  to  the  hills  looking  down  on  Atlanta.  We 
have  hailed  the  boys  trying  to  make  their  way  along  the  streets  with 
them,  and  brought  them  into  our  office  for  a  trade.  It  is  delightfully 
refreshing  to  hear  their  remarks  and  see  their  satisfaction  as  they  go 
hopping  off  trying  the  new  pair.  One  said  to  me — 

"That's  a  bad  trade  for  you." 

"No,  I  think  not," — said  I;  "if  you  can  give  that  much  of  your 
leg" — it  was  off  above  the  knee — "we  can  give  you  the  crutches  and 
have  the  best  of  the  contract." 

He  looked  down  thoughtfully  at  the  vacancy,  and  answered — 

"  I  never  saw  it  before,  but  that's  so." 

"  That  was  a  mistake  of  yours,"  I  said  to  another,  who  came  in  on 
the  oddest  pair  of  crutches  I  had  ever  seen, — one  fashioned  from  a 
panelled  board,  the  head  wound  with  cloth  and  a  bit  of  suspender, — 
the  other  an  oak  stick  pulled  up  by  the  roots,  one  of  the  roots  left 
branching  out  to  form  the  head  of  the  crutch. 

"  What's  a  mistake  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Why,  losing  that  leg." 

"  Don't  see  how  I  could  help  it." 

"  Easily  enough,"  I  replied  ;  "  suppose  you  had  stayed  at  home,  as 
others  did  ?" 

"  I  can't  see  it  in  that  light,"  he  said ;  and  then  with  flushed  face 
and  flashing  eye,  stamping  the  sticks  on  the  floor,  he  added — 

"  I  would  rather  be  here  on  crutches  than  at  home  a  Copperhead." 

He  thanked  me  for  the  new  ones, — they  all  do  that  most  touch- 
ingly, — and  when  I  said  it  was  he  tha^was  giving  and  not  I,  he  said 


420  CHKLSTIAX    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

it  was  not  much  that  he  could  give,  but  he  would  like  to  give  it  over 
again,  and  the  other  leg  too,  if  it  would  help  on  the  work. 

The  following  story  of  prison  work  at  Nashville  in 
August,  is  told  by  the  General  Field  Agent : 

Mr.  Walter  Tearne,  from  Covington,  Ky.,  was  our  visitor  to  the 
military  prisons.     Of  the  numbers  of  men  confined  in   these,  some 
are  not  only  innocent,  but  Christians.     Through  some  misapprehen 
sion  or  carelessness  they  have  found  their  way  there. 

A    Christian       .-„ 
j^.,0  Ol  course,   on  the  prisoners    own  statements  there 

would  be  very  few  guilty  ;  but  after  investigation  we 
not  unfrequently  find  men  who  ought  to  be  released,  and  sometimes 
are  able  to  help  them  out ;  at  least  we  can  comfort  them  in  their 
trouble  by  personal  attention  and  sympathy. 

Mr.  Tearne  found  one  young  man  very  eager  for  a  Bible.  He 
had  read  his  Testament  "  all  up,"  he  said,  and  when  he  received  a 
Bible  the  next  day,  he  could  not  conceal  the  glow  of  satisfaction 
which  lighted  his  face.  He  sat  down  to  it  at  once  as  a  student,  reading 
aloud  to  a  group  of  prisoners  in  the  yard,  some  of  them  coming  up  with 
the  "  ball  and  chain."  The  next  day  the  Delegate  found  his  Bible 
student  with  paper  and  pencil  collating  and  comparing  passages.  In 
other  words,  he  was  making  his  Bible,  with  its  ordinary  text,  into  a 
reference  Bible,  and  so  he  continues  now,  "  searching  the  Scriptures." 
When  he  finds  a  passage  which  matches  or  throws  light  upon  one  in 
question,  he  is  as  glad  as  the  woman  with  her  candle  and  piece  of 
silver,  and  comes  to  Mr.  T.  as  the  neighbor  to  rejoice  with  him. 

The  boy  has  a  history.  Brought  up  by  "  the  best  father  and  mother 
in  the  world,"  according  to  his  account,  trained  from  youth  in  the 
Christian  life,  he  was  converted  before  joining  the  army,  and  came 
away  three  years  ago,  with  a  mother's  blessing  upon  him  and  God's 
love  in  his  heart.  In  his  regiment  he  was  known  as  a  true  soldier 
and  faithful  Christian.  Last  Winter  he  was  in  a  division  sent,  after 
the  Chattanooga  battles,  to  relieve  Burnside  and  raise  the  siege  at 
Knoxville.  For  three  days  and  nights  his  regiment  had  been  on 
duty,  marching  and  fighting,  while  he  had  scarcely  an  hour's  sleep. 
Prisoners  were  captured,  and  he  wTas  set  to  guard  one  who,  it  seems, 
was  as  tired  and  worn  as  Himself.  He  told  the  Lieutenant  who 


NASHVILLE.  421 

ordered  him  on  guard  that  he  could  not  keep  awake, — that  he 
could  not  even  keep  his  eyelids  up  while  receiving  instructions.  But 
he  was  put  on,  and  remembered  nothing  afterwards  except  the  snoring 
of  the  prisoner  lying  at  his  feet,  till  he  was  himself  aroused  by  a 
guard  and  put  in  irons.  His  sentence  was  six  months'  imprisonment. 
We  would  interfere  in  his  behalf,  but  his  time  will  expire  before 
official  relief  could  be  obtained,  and  his  three  years'  service  will 
end  about  the  same  time. 

He  speaks  of  "  these  dreadful  six  months"  with  horror.  Only 
through  the  utmost  vigilance  by  day  and  by  night  had  he  kept  him 
self  clear  from  vermin.  The  single  cotton  shirt  he  wore  was  actually 
hanging  in  shreds,  while  his  pantaloons  and  blouse  were  patched  and 
tattered,  though  neatly  washed  and  most  elaborately  darned.  What 
vigilance  such  neatness  must  have  cost  no  one  can  know  who  has  not 
seen  military  prison-quarters  and  life  ;  and  then,  as  the  soldier  says, 
six.  months  in  contact  with  such  a  crowd  of  wretches,  so  thoroughly 
abandoned  and  impure,  has  horrors  ineffable.  In  it  all  the  true  boy 
has  been  cheerful,  and  without  a  word  of  murmuring  against  the 
Government.  He  says  it  is  an  awful  crime  for  a  guard  to  sleep  at 
his  post,  and  has  no  doubt  the  court-martial  was  sorry  to  sentence 
him,  but  could  not  help  it  for  the  sake  of  the  example. 

When  congratulated  upon  his  double  deliverance  by  the  expiration 
of  his  army  service  as  well  as  of  his  prison  term,  he  said — 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  am  coming  in  again.  I  shall  run  up  and  see  my 
mother  and  be  back  in  a  month  in  the  ranks.  I  couldn't  stay  out 
while  this  thing  is  going  on.  I  think  too  much  of  the  old  flag  to 
hang  round  home  while  others  are  fighting." 

When  it  was  suggested  that  with  his  three  years'  duty  and  the  last 
six  months'  treatment,  he  had  done  his  part,  he  repelled  the  idea, 
saying  that  nobody  had  done  his  part  till  he  had  done  all  he  could  do. 

The  boy  goes  home  to  his  mother  in  good  clothes  next  week,  and 
if  I  could  get  a  furlough  I  would  give  half  of  it  to  follow  him  to  his 
father's  cabin  on  the  Illinois  prairie  and  see  the  greeting. 

Rev.  Victor  Miller1  gives  two  items  of  work  in  Mur- 
freesboro'  and  Nashville  during  October : 


1  Pastor  of  Lutheran  Church,  New  Wilmington,  Penna. 


422  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

We  had  a  daily  prayer  meeting  at  our  rooms  in  Murfreesboro'.  A 
Scotchman  who  had  been  a  miner  in  the  "  old  country,"  told  me  his 
experience  of  them : 

"  They  did   me  a  wonderfu'  sicht  o'  guid.     I  was    a  wicked   mon 

when  I  cam  to  th'  army ;  I  car't  for  naething,  and  ance  I  was  to  be 

shot  for  sleepin'  at  my  post,  after  I'd  been  drinkin'.     I  had  a  bairn 

at  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  Asylum  in  Columbus,  Ohio. 

.  je  He  writ  me  when  I  was  in  prison,  and  tell't  me  of 

some  who  had  fouu'  a  freen'  in  Jesus.  I  couldna 
help  thinkin  o't ;  but  then,  there  was  the  hate  for  the  officers,  and  as 
lang  as  I  kept  hold  o'  that,  I  couldna  find  Him  ;  I  couldna  read  a 
chaipter,  nor  pray.  Syne  I  cam  to  th'  meetin's,  an'  then  I  let  the 
spite  all  go.  Whiles  I  had  to  stand  guard,  I  chang't  wi'  some  one 
else,  at  the  meetin'  times." 

As  the  humbled  man  talked,  the  warm  tears  rained  down  his 
bronzed  cheeks. 

As  I  went  down  the  steps  after  a  preaching  service  in  the  Zolli- 
coffer  Barracks  at  Nashville,  I  Avas  passing  out  between  the  two 
guards. 

"  Let  the  Christian  Commission  man  pass,"  said 
Finding  Home.  -,  .  •  i 

one,  and  there  was  a  tremor   in   his   voice  as    he 

added — 

"Wherever  you  find  that,  you  find  home" 

Mr.  A.  E.  Chamberlain,  writing  from  Cincinnati, 
gives  a  glimpse  into  the  meaning  of  faith,  in  Christian 
plans  and  work : 

Our  treasury  in  Cincinnati  ran  dry  in  October,  and  wTe  scarcely 
knew  where  to  look  for  more  money.  Just  then  word  came  from 
Nashville  that  our  men  wanted  onions  immediately.  I  looked  at  Mr. 

Marl  ay1  and  Mr.  Marlay  looked  at  me. 
Moneii  from  ..  Ar       ,  ,         ,   ,,       .       ,  „       .  ,  , 

You  haven  t  a  dollar  in  the  treasury,    said  he. 
the  Lord. 

"  That's  a  fact,"  was  all  I  could  say  in  reply. 
But  I  thought  I  would  start  out  and  see  what  I  could  do.     At 


1  Rev.  John  F.  Marlay,  Secretary  of  the  Cincinnati  Branch  of  the  Commission. 
A  member  of  Cincinnati  Conference,  Meth.  Kpisc.  Church. 


CINCINNATI.  423 

Seventh    and   Western   Kow,    I   found   fifty   barrels   of  very   nice 
onions  : 

"  How  much  are  you  asking  for  them,  Mr.  Buck?" 

"  Seven  dollars  a  barrel,  sir.     Cost  me  six." 

"  Send  them  down  to  the  boat  at  six  dollars,"  and  Mr.  Buck,  for 
the  soldier's'  sake,  obeyed.  When  I  got  back  to  the  office  I  told 
what  I  had  done  : 

'  But  where  on  earth's  the  money  to  come  from  ?" 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,  unless  the  Lord  sends  it." 

Of  course,  under  the  circumstances  of  the  purchase,  the  bill  must 
be  paid  on  presentation.  Soon  a  clerk  brought  it  in,  and  while  he 
was  laying  it  upon  the  desk,  a  little  boy  entered  the  room,  bringing 
two  checks  from  gentlemen  I  had  not  known  before  as  at  all  inter 
ested  in  our  work  ;  one  was  for  $200,  the  other  for  $100  ;  both  for  the 
Christian  Commission.  Did  not  the  money  come  from  the  Lord  ? 

A  month  or  two  afterwards  our  Field  Agent  sent  us  word  that  the 
men  were  dying  of  scurvy  —  that  he  must  have  a  supply  of  crout  and 
cabbage   for   immediate  distribution.      For   months   we   had    been 
spending  all  we  had  received  as  fast  as  it  came  into 
our  hands  ;  there  were  no  funds   to   meet  any  new  **ow  we 


r 

purchases.      The   remembrance   of   how   God   had 
helped  us  before,  returned  to  encourage  us,  —  and  yet 
we  did  not  know  just  what  to  do.     Musing  on  the  matter,  I  stepped 
to  the  window,  and  there  saw  the  drays,  used  in  my  own  business, 
unloading  casks  on   the  sidewalk.     I  called  to  the  driver  to  know 
what  they  were.     He  didn't  know,  but  had  left  a  letter  on  the  desk. 
I  opened  it.     It  was  an  invoice  from  the  town  of  Lebanon,  Ohio,  of 
thirty-four  barrels  of  crout  and  pickled  cabbage.     I  could  not  help 
crying  out  on  the  spot  — 

"  Thank  God  for  Lebanon  !  Thank  God  for  the  crout  and 
cabbage." 

That  very  day  it  was  sent  down  to  the  army  as  a  first  installment. 
A  grateful  Surgeon  sent  me  back  word  that  if  barrels  of  gold  dust 
had  been  sent  instead,  they  would  not  have  compared  in  value  with 
that  crout  and  cabbage. 

Lieut.  Gen.  J.  B.  Hood,  after  the  fall  of  Atlanta, 
made  several  abortive  movements  to  draw  Sherman  from 


424  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Georgia ;  but  that  commander,  after  vainly  attempting 
to  lay  his  hand  upon  the  nimble-footed  Confederate, 
committed  the  defence  of  Tennessee  to  Maj.  Gen. 
Thomas,  and  gathering  up  all  his  garrisons  and  cutting 
completely  adrift  from  all  communications,  on -Novem 
ber  llth  began  his  memorable  march  through  Georgia 
and  the  Carolinas  to  the  sea.  Two  Christian  Commis 
sion  Delegates,  Mr.  Wm.  A.  Lawrence  and  Mr.  Arthur 
Lawrence,  accompanied  the  army  to  Savannah,  and 
there  received  and  distributed  the  large  invoice  of  stores 
with  which  the  New  York  Committee  of  the  Commis 
sion  welcomed  their  arrival.  The  opportunities  for 
Commission  work  were  so  restricted  by  the  character  of 
the  march,  and  the  losses  to  the  army  of  life  and  limb 
were  so  small,  that  we  shall  not  need  to  delay  upon  the 
incidents  of  the  movement.1 

While  the  Federal  General  lingered  before  beginning 
his  hazardous  march,  Hood  hung  along  the  Tennessee 
about  Florence,  Alabama.  The  moment  the  tidings  of 
Sherman's  movement  reached  him,  he  put  his  army  in 
motion  towards  Nashville.  On  the  last  day  of  Novem 
ber  was  fought  the  sanguinary  battle  of  Franklin,  re 
sulting  in  Hood's  temporary  repulse  and  the  continued 
falling  back  of  the  Union  forces.  On  December  2d 
Hood  appeared  before  Nashville,  and  sat  down  to  his 
impotent  and  impudent  siege2  of  a  city  defended  by  a 


1  On  pp.  391,  392,  will  be  found  a  few  incidents  of  the  movement,  related  in 
the  prayer  meetings  about  the  time  of  the  "  grand  review"  at  Washington. 

2  While  all  in  the  city  were  held  in  no  slight  suspense  by  the  close  siege,  and 
apparent  inaction  of  General   Thomas,  the  night  before  his  movement  against 
Hood  was  made,  Mr.  Smith,  returning  from  a  reconnoissance  along  the  lines, 
overtook  a  gray-headed  negro  hobbling  into  town.     "Well,  uncle,  how  are  the 
times  ?"  he  asked.     "  I  was  jus'  study  in'  dat  ar,  Colonel."    "  What  about  General 


BATTLE    OF    NASHVILLE.  425 

force  twice  as  large  as  his  own.  On  the  15th,  Thomas 
moved  out  of  his  entrenchments  against  the  besiegers. 
The  evening  of  the  next  day  witnessed  the  complete 
defeat  and  disorderly  rout  of  the  Rebel  Army.  From 
this  time  it  well  nigh  ceased  to  be  an  army.  In  the 
Spring  following,  Forrest's  cavalry,  the  special  pride  of 
the  Western  Confederates,  could  oppose  but  a  poor 
resistance  to  Wilson's  raid  through  Alabama. 

Mr.  B.  F.  Jacobs  preserves  a  number  of  incidents  of 
the  battle  of  Nashville : 

Gen.  Steedman's  Corps  of  colored  troops  made  a  reconnoissance  in 
force,  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  of  Nashville.      Mr.  Dutcher1   and  I 
made  every  preparation  to  receive  the  wounded.     Soon  they  began 
to  come  in  on  stretchers.     Suddenly,  we  saw  a  bare 
headed  soldier  staggering  towards  us ;  his  hand  was 
to  his  forehead,  blood  was  pouring  down  his  face,  and  tears  were 
washing  this  away,  almost  as  fast  as  it  came.    I  supposed  he  must  be 
very  badly  wounded,  and  went  to  meet  him : 

"  My  boy,  are  you  hit  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  he,  in  a  dazed  way,  taking  the  hand  from  his  forehead, 
and  seeing  the  blood  on  it ;  "I  b'liebe  so." 

"  Don't  it  hurt  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  he,  "I  don't  mind  it  much." 

""Well,  what  are  you  crying  for?" 

Turning  round,  with  a  scared  look  he  pointed  to  the  woods  from 
which  four  men  had  just  emerged,  bearing  a  stretcher  with  an  offi 
cer's  body  on  it. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  poor  fellow,  "  look  dar !  My  Captain's  wounded  ! 
My  Captain's  wounded !" 


Hood  ?"    "  Dat's  it,  Colonel ;  I's  jus'  studyin'  on  'im."   "  Is  he  coming  into  Nash 
ville  ?"     "Dat's  it,  Colonel ;  dat's  it  'zackly  ;  I  was  studyin'  dat  ar  berry  partick- 
ler."     "Well,  is  he  coming  in?"     "No,  sah ;  General  Hood   won't  come  in." 
v  Why  not  ?"     "He  couldn't  do  jtis'is  to  hisself  in  heah,  sah." 
3  John  A.  Dutcher,  Esq.,  Milwaukee,  Wis. 


426  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

This  was  the  hero's  sorrow ;  and  all  the  time  we  were  caring  for 
him  it  seemed  to  be  the  uppermost  and  only  grief. 

During  the  cannonading  on  the  Sunday  before  the  raising  of  the 
siege,  I  was  in  front  of  the  headquarters  of  the  Fourth  Corps,  at 
Acklin  Place.  General  Wood  was  in  temporary  command.  Major 

Bridge's  Battery  held  the  summit  of  the  hill  just  be- 
A  Battery  Si-  i         4^         -,.       ., 

lenced    far     a       J  distributing  some  things  among   the 

Sunday  Service.  mcn>  I  suggested  to  the  Major  that  we  might  have  a 
meeting  in  spite  of  the  cannonading,  as  it  was  Sunday 
morning.  He  said  at  once  that  I  might  take  all  the  men  who  were 
not  absolutely  wanted  to  work  the  guns.  There  were  two  infantry 
regiments  supporting  the  battery,  so  after  several  hymns  were  sung, 
a  pretty  large  audience  was  gathered.  Officers  came  riding  up,  and 
all  were  on  the  qui  vive  of  expectation.  I  mounted  a  cracker-box  for  a 
pulpit,  read  a  chapter  and  then  talked  for  fifteen  minutes,  while  the 
battery  near  was  sending  its  constant  response  to  the  Confederate  shells. 
Generals  Wood  and  Schofield,  the  Chief  of  Artillery,  and  their  staffs 
were  by  this  time  a  part  of  the  audience.  I  reminded  all  present  of 
the  peril  of  the  hour,  and  asked  them  to  unite  with  me  in  prayer. 
The  Chief  of  Artillery  sung  out  to  his  Orderly  to  have  every  gun 
cease  firing ;  the  soldiers  knelt  upon  the  ground,  and  the  officers, 
taking  off  their  caps,  bowed  their  heads,  while,  during  the  silence  of 
the  guns,  we  invoked  the  Divine  blessing.  The  Chief  came  to  me 
when  it  was  over,  and  said  earnestly — 

"  In  the  name  of  these  soldiers,  I  want  to  thank  you  for  this." 
The  General  Field  Agent  gives  the  narrative  of  relief 
service  during  the  night  of  the  first  day's  battle : 

The  work  for  the  night  was  to  go  over  the  field,  searching  for  men 
who  had  been  missed  by  the  stretcher-bearers ;  to  gather  up  the  dead, 
identify  them  through  their  comrades,  if  possible,  and  mark  them  by 

a  card;  to  give  coffee  and  hot  soup  at  the  flying  hos- 
A     Brother's          -^   ^         ^  ^  to 

Rest    u-ith     his      P       '  a       be  llcxt  fnend  to  men  Dreadfully  wounded, 
Dead.  —many  of  them  dying. 

Coming  upon  a  straw  stack  in  our  search  for  the 
dead,  we  found  two  bodies  side  by  side,  as  if  laid  together  by  some 
friendly  hand.  As  we  were  lifting  them  on  the  stretcher  one  of  them 
sprang  out  of  our  hands,  and  pointing  to  his  comrade,  said— 


BATTLE    OF    NASHVILLE.  427 

"  It's  my  brother,  sir ;  it's  my  brother  that's  dead.  We  two  were 
all  ;  we  enlisted  together,  and  I  am  alone  now." 

Missing  him  in  the  fight,  he  had  hunted  over  the  field  and  found 
him  dead  by  the  stack ;  and  lying  down  to  watch  him  till  morning, 
had  fallen  into  "  the  image  of  death,"  from  which  we  had  awakened 
him.  When  we  took  up  the  body  to  lay  it  in  line  with  others,  the 
brother  followed  after,  bringing  straw  to  make  a  bed  for  himself  and 
hi.<  dead.  We  gave  him  room  in  that  long  row  of  silent  sleepers, 
and  nestling  close  to  the  corpse,  he  lay  down  for  his  last  night's  rest 
with  his  brother. 

The  scene  at  the  house  taken  for  the  flying  hospital  baffles  descrip 
tion.  While  Hood  was  falling  back,  the  citizens  who  still  believed 
in  the  Confederacy  had  taken  their  movable  property,  including  bed 
ding  and  best  furniture,  to  the  rear,  for  protection 

within  Kebel  lines.    This  house  had  been  made  a  re-      c 

scene. 

ceptacle  for  neighbors'  furniture,  and  we  were  hence 
able  to  put  a  first-class  mattress  under  every  wounded  man.  All  the 
rooms  below,  and  the  piazza  on  three  sides  of  the  house,  were  laid 
thick  with  officers  and  privates.  Some  were  sleeping  under  the  power 
of  opiates,  some  were  already  sleeping  in  death,  others  were  writhing 
in  mortal  agony.  Some  were  calling  for  the  Surgeon,  some  for  water, 
some  for  mercy ;  others  were  offering  a  prayer  of  trust  and  joyous 
hope  of  heaven  just  at  hand,  and  others  still  were  waiting  in  silent, 
anxious  suspense  for  the  Surgeon's  decision  as  to  the  nature  of  their 
wounds.1 

Mr.  Jacobs  writes  of  a  soldier  to  whom  lie  ministered 
at  this  hospital  : 

Our  improvised  hospital  was  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  our  boys  car 
ried  by  storm  on  the  first  day's  fight.  Shortly  after  it  was  established, 
I  met  four  men  bringing  in  a  soldier  of  an  Indiana  regiment,  named 
Jackson.  I  saw  that  he  was  shot  through  the  lungs, 

and  must  die— indeed,  I  thought  he  would  live  but         ™e Sweetness 

of  Prayer  amidst 
a  few  minutes.     1  stooped  down  to  him  as  the  men      pa{ns 

walked  along : 


1  Annals,  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  pp.  508,  509. 


CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  You  are  badly  wounded  ?" 

;'Yes." 

I  asked  his  name,  regiment  and  home.  He  told  me  about  his  fam 
ily.  I  inquired  if  he  was  a  Christian  : 

"  Yes ;  but  what  do  you  ask  that  question  for  ?" 

"  Why,  my  brother,  you  are  going  to  die." 

"  Oh  !  am  I  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Soon  ?" 

"  Yes,  very  soon." 

He  was  in  very  great  pain.  We  laid  him  down  on  the  piazza,  and 
arranged  as  soft  a  place  as  we  could.  His  groans  were  dreadful.  He 
told  me  what  to  write  to  his  wife,  and  gave  me  her  photograph  and 
his  watch  to  send  home.  After  taking  care  of  many  others,  about 
eleven  o'clock  at  night  I  went  back  to  him.  Kneeling  at  his  side,  I 
strove  to  comfort  him  in  his  pain.  I  told  him  he  would  not  suffer 
long,  and  asked  how  he  felt : 

"  It  would  be  so  sweet  if  I  could  hear  somebody  pray  once  more." 

While  I  offered  a  short  prayer  he  held  my  hand  in  both  of  his, 
and  sobbed  out  responsively  to  the  petitions,  adding  at  the  close— 

"  Oh !  I  do  so  love  to  hear  you  pray.  Ai'n't  you  going  to  stay 
with  me  ?"  said  he,  as  I  turned  away — "  ai'n't  you  going  to  stay  with 
me  until  I  die  ?" 

"  I  can't,  Jackson,  while  all  these  men  are  here." 
Amidst  the  paroxysms  of  pain   he  labored  until  his  last  breath. 
His  frequent  exclamation  was — 

"  Blessed  Jesus,  come  and  take  me  out  of  my  pain !" 

Mr.  Smith's  attention  was  attracted  to  this  soldier 
later  in  the  night.  He  writes  of  him  : 

At  one  o'clock,  after  personal  attention  to  every  man,  and  having 
arranged  for  a  watch  by  relief,  we  rolled  up  in  our  blankets  for  a 
little  rest.  But  there  was  one  voice  from  the  wounded,  rising  above 

all  the  others,  now  in  a  shriek  of  torture  and  now  in 
The  Invincible 

Love.  a  tender  appeal  to  the  Saviour.  It  was  from  an  In 

diana  soldier,  wounded  in  the  bowels.  One  of  the 

Delegates,  bending  over  him,  whispered — 


BATTLE    OF    NASHVILLE.  429 

"  Jackson,  do  you  love  Jesus  ?" 

"Don't  I  love  Him  !"  was  the  instant  reply. 

His  wound  was  mortal,  and  beyond  any  human  relief.  We  were 
obliged  to  leave  him  and  go  back  to  our  blankets.  Long  after  mid 
night  that  voice  from  the  piazza,  distinct  in  the  dreadful  chorus  of 
groans,  making  sleep  impossible,  stole  in  on  the  chilly  night  air  like 
the  voice  of  a  flute  in  the  clangor  of  trumpets : 

"  Dear  Jesus,  You  know  I  love  You.  Come,  Jesus,  dear  Jesus  ;  I 
am  all  ready  now.  Come,  Jesus.  You  love  me,  and  You  know  I 
love  You,  dear  Jesus." 

Fainter  and  less  frequent  came  that  sweet,  divine  appeal,  till  it 
ceased  and  we  slept.  In  the  morning  we  found  a  smile  in  the  eye 
and  on  the  lips  of  the  dead  patriot,  which  seemed  to  be  still 
repeating — 

"  Dear  Jesus,  You  love  me,  and  You  know  I  love  You."1 

Mr.  Jacobs  continues  the  account  of  the  second  day's 
conflict : 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  we  began  supplying  the  men 
with  whatever  we  had  to  comfort  them,  and  especially  attending  to 
the  removal  of  the  wounded  from  the  immediate  front.  This  work 
continued  throughout  the  day,  while  our  men  were 

Iving  down,  awaiting  the  orders  for  the  final  charge. 

just    Be/ore   the 
The  monotony  of  the  position,  with  the  accrued  wea-      charge. 

riness  of  the  previous  day's  fighting,  put  one  poor 
fellow  to  sleep.  A  shot  came,  as  he  lay  unconscious,  piercing  his 
head  and  killing  him  instantly.  He  was  a  magnificent-looking  sol 
dier  ;  his  whole  appearance  and  physique  were  of  the  finest.  There 
was  no  change  upon  his  face  as  his  comrades  bore  him  back ;  the 
smile  of  rest  even  was  undisturbed.  In  a  little  while  the  charge 
would  be  ordered.  Yet  I  was  anxious  to  give  him  a  Christian  burial. 
The  boys  said  "Aye,  aye,"  with  a  will, — and  with  such  things  as  we 
had,  pieces  of  boxes  and  boards,  we  dug  a  grave.  Before  he  was 
wrapped  up  in  his  blanket,  I  looked  to  find  some  little  token  to  send 


Annals,  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  p.  509. 


430  CHRISTIAN'    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

home  to  his  family.  Not  finding  anything  of  special  interest,  I  cut 
a  lock  of  hair,  warm  still  with  his  life's  blood,  and  put  it  in  my  mem 
orandum-book,  to  be  afterwards  forwarded  to  his  mother.  There  was 
no  dying  word  to  accompany  it.  We  buried  him  hastily,  but  de 
cently  ;  on  an  end  of  an  old  ammunition-box  I  inscribed  his  name, — 
his  only  head-stone.  When  the  grave  was  filled,  I  said — 

"  Let  us  have  a  moment  of  prayer,  boys." 

Just  as  we  had  all  bowed  round  the  grave,  the  hastening  hoofs  of 
the  aids'  horses  called  the  men  to  the  charge.  The  prayer  was  brief, 
but  ere  it  was  over  the  bullets  had  begun  to  sing,  the  men  were  back 
in  their  places,  and  the  line  was  sweeping  on  in  triumph  towards  the 
doomed  works  of  the  enemy. 

Just  before  this  scene,  while  I  was  moving  about  among  the  men, 
Gen.  A.  J.  Smith,  commanding  the  Sixteenth  Corps,  came  by  with  his 
staff.  He  jumped  off  his  horse  near  where  I  stood  and  looked  at 

me  curiously.     I  was  a  rather  strange-looking  figure, 
A  Cup  of  Coffee     T    .          .  IT          -,    -,        •  i 

for  Gen  Smith  imagine ;    two  great  haversacks,  distended    with 

crackers,  tea,  dried  toast,  whisky,  bandages,  brandy, 
sponges,  etc.,  were  over  my  shoulders ;  a  three-gallon  coffee-pot  was 
in  one  hand ;  a  big  twelve-quart  tin  pail  with  fresh  water  in  the 
other,  while  a  bundle  of  tin-cups  hung  on  my  arms  and  over  my 
back  and  shoulders.  I  suppose  I  looked  like  Robinson  Crusoe,  or 
somebody  laying  in  supplies  for  an  indefinite  siege  or  a  life  on  a 
desert  island.  The  General  demanded  who  I  was.  I  told  him  I 
was  a  Commission  Delegate  : 

"What  have  you  got  in  that  big  pot?" 

"Coffee,  General, — for  these  wounded  men;  it  is  very  good  for 
some  of  them,  you  know.  Won't  you  have  a  cup  ?" 

"  Thank  you  ;  I  don't  care  if  I  do.  I  haven't  had  a  mouthful  to 
day,  and  I've  been  in  the  saddle  since  four  this  morning." 

An  Orderly  rode  up  just  then,  and  seeing  the  General  drinking, 
said  to  me — 

"  I'll  take  some  if  you  please." 

"  Haven't  you  had  your  breakfast  ?"  asked  the  General,  sharply. 

The  Orderly  replied  in  the  affirmative: 

"  Don't  give  him  any ;  keep  it  for  the  men ;  I  don't  think  I  ought 
to  have  taken  any  myself." 

When   the   fight   was   over,  Gen.   Smith    in  a    tent   with   Gen. 


BATTLE   OF    NASHVILLE.  431 

McArthur  and  a  number  of  Delegates,  after  recounting  the  above 
incident,  said1 — 

"  I  must  say  that  since  Jesus  Christ  left  this  world,  there  has  never 
been  a  more  heavenly  institution  than  the  Christian  Commission.  I 
thought  when  I  passed  your  folks  going  out,  that  their  place  was 
about  six  miles  in  the  rear,  but  I  have  now  come  to  a  different  con 
clusion.  Many  a  man  owes  his  life  to  you." 

It  was  unequivocal  testimony  from  an  officer  who  made  no  preten 
sions  to  be  a  Christian. 

When  the  charge  was  ordered,  the  troops  to  whom  I  had  been 
ministering  carried  the  enemy's  works,  capturing  eighteen  hundred 
prisoners.  In  the  charge  they  lost  heavily ;  a  Minnesota  regiment 
had  one  hundred  killed  or  disabled.  I  pushed  on 

over  a  corn-field  after  the  troops,  and  came  to  a  large 

nzed  Flying  Hos- 
house  about  a  mile  beyond.     It  had  been  the  head-       -tal 

quarters  of  a  Confederate  General,  and  its  occupants 
had  all  run  away  during  the  battle.  No  one  was  on  hand  to  organize 
a  hospital,  so  I  undertook  it  myself,  directing  stragglers  and  all  other 
unemployed  persons  I  could  find  to  clear  the  rooms  and  bring  in  the 
wounded.  Going  out  then  to  the  point  where  the  fighting  had  ceased, 
I  turned  the  streams  of  wounded  towards  the  house.  It  was  supplied 
with  magnificent  furniture,  which  we  had  to  put  out  into  the  yard 
to  make  room  as  the  wounded  accumulated.  Every  floor  in  the 
house,  the  great  halls,  the  porches  in  front  and  rear,  were  soon  crowded 
full  with  suffering  soldiers.  About  this  time  a  Surgeon 2  arrived.  He 
asked  who  was  in  charge  of  the  hospital.  I  reported  myself  as  a 
Commission  Delegate,  who  had  taken  the  direction  of  affairs  until  the 
proper  parties  should  arrive,  and  was  very  glad  to  surrender  my 
trust  to  him. 

"By  no  means,"  was  his  reply ;  "retain  your  command  and  I'll 
serve  you  to  the  best  of  my  ability." 

Two  Assistant  Surgeons  soon  came  in,  and  we  all  went  to  work 
with  a  will.  With  the  concentrated  beef  in  my  haversack,  we 
soon  had  twenty  quarts  of  soup  ;  putting  into  it  what  crackers  and 


1  The  words  are  recorded  by  Mr.  Chas.  Harris,  of  Peoria,  who  was  present  at 
the  interview. 

2  Surgeon  Kennedy,  of  a  Minnesota  regiment. 


432  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

crusts  of  bread  we  had,  I  was  able  to  give  every  wounded  man  in  the 
house  a  light  supper.  Poor  fellows !  they  were  almost  starved,  few 
having  had  anything  since  their  early  morning  rations.  I  succeeded 
in  confiscating  a  horse,  and  sent  a  soldier  back  through  the  mud  at 
midnight  to  our  office  in  Nashville  with  an  order  for  supplies.  He 
returned  about  two  o'clock  with  stores  packed  in  two  grain-bags,  and 
otherwise  distributed  about  his  person.  At  three  we  had  coffee  and 
soup  made,  and  the  men  had  another  meal. 

About  seven  our  Christian  Commission  wagon  made  its  appearance, 
loaded  down  with  supplies.  With  that  wagon-load  the  men  were  fed 
morning,  noon  and  night  of  Saturday,  and  morning  and  noon  of 
Sunday.  Not  a  particle  of  Government  stores  reached  the  hospital 
in  answer  to  the  Surgeon's  requisition  until  late  Sunday  afternoon. 
When  they  did  come,  the  Surgeon,  with  manifest  feeling,  said  to  the 
Assistant  Medical  Director  who  accompanied  them — 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  the  Christian  Commission,  these  wounded 
men  would  have  starved  to  death  before  this." 

We  wanted  some  one  to  take  more  particular  charge  of  our  prop 
erty  ;  so  on  Sunday  I  found  an  able-bodied  Englishman  of  fine  per 
sonal  appearance,  whom  I  "  detailed"  as  Hospital  Steward.  He  did 
us  most  efficient  service.  In  our  general  clearing-out 

Our  Sunday      on   the  evening  of  the  battle,  there  had   been    only 
Morning  Prayer 
Meeting.  three  things  kept  m  the  house, — a  piano,  a  family 

portrait  and  a  large  mirror  with  a  six-pound  shot 
through  it.  After  the  men  had  been  cared  for  on  Sunday  morning, 
we  arranged  to  hold  service.  Thinking  it  would  be  pleasant  to  have 
singing,  I  made  the  remark  that  if  we  onlv  had  some  one  to  play 
the  piano  for  us,  it  would  be  everything  we  could  want.  The  Sur 
geons  were  still  at  work  in  the  amputating-room  ;  they  could  not 
help  us  even  if  any  of  them  had  been  able  to  use  the  instrument. 
To  my  surprise  my  English  Steward  stepped  forward,  and  said 
modestly — 

"  Colonel,  I  used  to  play  the  piano  a  little  in  England ;  'maybe  I 
could  draw  down  a  tune  for  you." 

He  had  on  a  red  flannel  shirt,  picturesque  but  unfashionable,  and 
his  sleeves  were  rolled  up  above  his  elbows,  more  unfashionable  still. 
Without  stopping  for  any  preparations,  he  took  his  seat  on  a  cracker- 
box  to  make  a  preliminary  trial.  The  practice  was  highly  satisfac- 


SONGS  FOR  SIGHING. 


Page  432. 


BATTLE   OF    NASHVILLE.  433 

tory,  and  so  he  accompanied  us  excellently,  while  we  sung  our  songs 
of  Zion,  and, 

"  My  country,  'tis  of  thee," 

to  the  melody  "  God  save  the  Queen,"  familiar  to  every  Englishman. 
And  never  did  boys  enjoy  music  as  did  our  wounded  in  that  morning 
meeting. 

Surgeon  Ford,  of  Nashville,  already  referred  to  as  a 
constant  and  valuable  friend  of  the  Commission,  fur 
nishes  the  narrative  of  Henry  Cutler,  a  young  Illinois 
soldier  wounded  in  the  Nashville  battles,  and  brought 
in  the  night  to  a  hospital : 

I  examined  his  wound — in  the  right  lung  and  liver, — and  gave 
the  nurses  directions  about  the  dressing.  As  I  was  about  leaving, 
he  asked  what  I  thought  of  his  case. 

"  You  have  a  very  serious  wound,"  I  replied.  A      Martyr 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  mortal  ?     You  need  not  be      Pairiot- 
afraid  to  tell  me  the  truth,  for  I  am  not  afraid  to  die." 

"  Such  wounds,"  said  I,  "  are  necessarily  fatal,  and  I  fear  you  have 
not  long  to  live." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  it's  all  right,  though  it  seems  hard  to  die  so 
young ;  I  had  high  hopes,  but  God  has  so  ordered  it,  and  I  am  willing 
to  go." 

"  Do  you  feel  that  you  are  a  Christian,  and  ready  to  die  ?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  know ;  I  have  tried  to  be  a  Christian,  but  the  army 
is  a  hard  place." 

"  True  ;  but  if  you  can  put  your  trust  in  Christ  now,  He  will  not 
forsake  you." 

He  spoke  of  his  mother,  and  asked  if  I  thought  she  would  have 
time  to  come  to  him  before  he  died.  I  had  to  tell  him  that  I  thought 
it  impossible,  but  would  telegraph  her  if  he  desired.  He  thought  a 
moment,  and  then  said  that  perhaps  it  would  be  best  not  to.  I  asked 
him  for  any  message  he  might  have  for  her: 

"  Tell  her  I  would  like  to  die  near  her,  but  that  I  die  happy.  I 
am  thankful  I  can  die  among  friends,  and  that  I  did  not  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  I  had  a  presentiment  when  I  left  home  that  I 

28 


434  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

should  never  see  mother  again,  and  when  I  leaped  the  breastworks  to 
make  the  charge,  I  was  sure  I  should  be  wounded  or  killed." 

"  Do  you  regret  now  having  enlisted  in  the  service  ?" 

Immediately  his  eye  brightened,  and  a  smile  of  profound  satis 
faction  overspread  his  face,  as  he  answered  with  the  greatest  em 
phasis  — 

"  Oh,  no,  by  no  means" 

It  was  painful  for  him  to  speak,  so  I  bade  him  good-bye.  He  lin 
gered  until  the  morning  in  great  agony,  yet  without  a  murmur,  when 
death  eased  him  of  his  pains.1 

Mr.  Chas.  Harris  writes  from  Nashville  in  December: 

A  Mission  Sunday-school  in  Peoria  had  sent  me  the  means  of  sup 
plying  many  little  needed  luxuries  for  the  soldiers.  Purchasing 
some  oranges  once,  I  handed  one  to  a  poor,  sick  boy  in  the  Post  Hos 

pital.     He  took  it  with  a  suppressed  exclamation  of 
The  Children's        •,  ,.    ,  ,    ,     ,  ,    .  -.    ., 

delight,  held  it  up,  turned  it  round  and  round,  and 


at  last  broke  forth  — 

"  My  little  daughter  wrote  me  two  days  ago,  '  Papa,  I  would  like 
to  send  you  some  oranges,  but  I  can't  do  it.'  And  now,  here  the  Lord 
has  sent  me  one  ;  my  little  girl  couldn't  send  any  to  me,  but  He  puts 
it  into  some  other  child's  heart  to  do  it,  who  could." 

After  the  benediction  in  our  prayer  meeting  the  other  day,  a  Sur 
geon  rose  and  said  — 

"  I  have  been  at  this  meeting  twice,  and  perhaps  some  of  you  think 

I  am  a  Christian,  but  I  am  not  ;  I  have  risen  to  ask 
A    Surgeon's  ,          ^    .     .       ., 

w  your  prayers.     I  want  to  be  a  Christian. 

We  had  a  few  moments  of  silent  prayer  on  his  be 
half;  and  earnest,  I  arn  sure,  were  the  petitions  offered.  The  next 
day  he  rose  again,  and  testified  of  the  power  of  Jesus  to  save.  Our 


1  Surgeon  Ford  adds :  "  I  regret  that  I  had  not  leisure  at  the  time  to  send 
Henry  Cutler's  message  to  his  mother, — and  now  I  have  lost  her  address.  Per 
haps  this  may  meet  her  eye,  and  bring  some  comfort  to  her  afflicted  heart."  It 
is  worthy  of  record  in  this  connection,  that  after  the  Nashville  battles,  during 
four  or  five  days,  an  average  of  35,000  sheets  of  letter  paper  and  envelopes  were 
distributed  daily  by  the  Commission  Delegates. 


PADUCAH.  435 

thanksgivings  were  now  as  fervent  as  had  been  our  prayers  before. 
He  was  the  second  Surgeon  converted  at  our  daily  meetings  while  I 
attended  them. 

Rev.  H.  McLeod,  laboring  in  the  hospitals  at  Padu- 
cah,  Ky.,  in  January,  1865,  tells  the  following  story  of 
his  experience : 

I  was  called  one  night  to  see  a  soldier  who  was  thought  to  be 
dying.  Two  days  before,  he  had  been  put  ashore  from  one  of  the 
transports  hastening  up  the  river.  He  was  unconscious,  and  no  one 
could  tell  me  anything  about  him,  save  that  he  be 
longed  to  a  Michigan  regiment.  Remembering  that  Though  he 
.  „  ,  _  _  were  Dead,  Yet 
the  mere  utterance  oi  the  name  of  Jesus  had  often  shall  he  Live" 

recalled  the  wandering  senses  of  the  dying  Christian, 

I  sat  down  by  him,  and  opening  the  little  Testament  on  the  stand, 

read — 

"  For  we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  were 
dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of  God,  an  house  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens." 

I  next  read  Jesus'  words  to  Martha : 

"  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life :  he  that  believeth  in  Me, 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live ;  and  whosoever  believeth  in 
Me  shall  never  die." 

The  dying  man  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  at  me : 

"  Does  it  pain  you  to  hear  me  read  ?" 

"  Oh,  no ;  when  well,  I  used  to  love  to  read  the  New  Testament. 
There's  one  in  my  knapsack." 

"  Are  you  afraid  to  die  ?" 

"  No,"  and  the  face  grew  bright;  "I  long  to  go  to  heaven." 

"  Is  Jesus  with  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  He  is  with  me." 

I  asked  for  his  father's  name  and  home ;  he  gave  me  the  particu 
lars,  but  added — 

"Write  to  mother;  she  is  a  Christian,  father  is  not,"  and  he  passed 
again  into  the  old  state  of  unconsciousness.  I  began  writing  a  letter 
to  his  mother.  After  a  little  while  he  opened  his  eyes  and  asked  for 
me.  The  nurse  pointed  me  out.  He  said — 


436  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  are  writing  to  mother;  tell  father  to  become  a 
Christian." 

Calmly  he  gave  directions  about  the  division  of  certain  property 
between  his  two  younger  brothers;  and  very  soon  he  was  resting  with 
Christ. 

Mr.  A.  E.  Chamberlain  writes  of  a  visit  paid  by  him 
self,  in  company  with  Judge  Bellamy  Storer  and  Rev. 
B.  W.  Chidlaw  of  Cincinnati,  to  a  Nashville  hospital : 

We  came  to  a  soldier  who  looked  very  desponding. 

"  My  good  fellow,  you  look  sad,"  I  said. 

"  I  feel  so,"  was  his  reply.   His  left  foot  was  off  at  the  ankle,  from 

a  wound  on  the  last  day  of  the  battle  of  Nashville. 

The  Arch  of        A     _    .  v    •  •      ™- 

p      r  A  father  and  mother  were  living  at  home  m  Mis 

souri.     His  wife  lived  on  Empire  Prairie,  in   the 
same  State : 

"  Have  you  written  to  your  wife  since  the  battle  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  he  ;  "  I  got  one  of  the  boys  to  write." 

"  But  you  told  all  about  your  wound  ?" 

"  Well,  I  told  him  to  write  that  I  was  slightly  wounded ;  I  didn't 
want  to  let  her  hear  all  the  worst  at  once." 

"  Did  you  tell  her  about  your  amputation  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  that  would  have  broken  her  heart." 

I  told  him  how  I  thought  he  was  doing  wrong  in  so  concealing  his 
condition  : 

"  Now  I  am  going  to  write  her  and  tell  her  all  about  how  you  are. 
Is  she  a  Christian  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Are  you  ?" 

"  No." 

"  You  need  your  wife's  prayers,  my  brave  fellow." 

"  Yes,  and  I  have  them." 

"  But  you  know  she  can't  pray  for  you  intelligently,  unless  she  un 
derstands  all  about  your  case." 

I  wrote  all  the  particulars,  so  far  as  I  could  get  them,  and  then 
told  the  soldier  that  I  wanted  him  to  add  one  more  paragraph  at  the 
bottom  of  the  letter : 


NASHVILLE.  437 

"  Your  wife  has  been  praying  alone  long  enough.  I  want  you  to 
add  that  from  this  very  evening  you  are  going  to  pray  for  yourself. 
And  then  hereafter,  if  you  never  meet  her  again,  your  prayers  will 
go  up  from  here,  while  hers  go  up  from  Empire  Prairie,  both  meeting 
at  the  throne.  It  will  be  an  arch  of  prayer,  with  God  at  the  key 
stone.  Will  you  leave  the  arch  incomplete?  Will  you  authorize  me 
to  tell  your  wife  that  you  will  so  pray?" 

The  poor  fellow  went  through  a  deep  struggle ;  his  whole  frame 
shook  with  emotion.  But  after  a  minute  he  threw  up  his  arm  and 
said — 

"  God  helping  me,  I'll  do  it.     Put  it  down." 

I  knelt  and  prayed  with  him.  Then  reading  over  the  letter,  with 
the  added  clause,  I  asked  if  that  was  all  right, — if  he  was  willing  to 
stand  by  it. 

"Yes,"  said  he;  "that's  all  right." 

The  next  morning  I  went  in  to  see  him  again.  One  of  the  pleas- 
antest  countenances  I  ever  met  was  that  of  the  poor  soldier.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  invisible  arch  of  prayer  had  been  already  established. 

Mr.  G.  W.  R.  Scott1  went  to  the  Army  of  the  Cum 
berland  as  a  Delegate,  in  March.  On  the  road  to  Nash 
ville  the  following  incident  occurred  : 

In  the  evening,  as  the  train  was  passing  through  the  woods,  about 
six  miles  south-west  of  Cave  City,  Ky.,  it  was  attacked  by  guerrillas, 
who  had  previously  torn  up  about  one  hundred  yards  of  the  track. 
They  fired  volley  after  volley  into  the  cars,  shouting 

all  the  while  like  demons.  The  train-guards  returned         A    Dele9ate's 

Shirts  for  Band- 
the  nre,  but  as  the  robbers  were  protected  by  the  s 

bank,  no  injury  was  done  them.  Soon  the  train  was 
surrendered  by  the  military  conductor,  and  the  bandits  began  a  gen 
eral  work  of  pillage.  Each  passenger  and  soldier  was  thoroughly 
searched ;  money,  watches,  and  even  finger-rings  were  taken.  The 
amount  of  property  which  thus  unceremoniously  changed  owners  was 
estimated  at  fifty  thousand  dollars. 

The  work  completed,  the  train  was  fired  and  seven  cars  consumed. 


*  Of  Pittsburg,  Penna.     A  student  of  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  Mass. 


438  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  guerrillas  remounting  their  horses,  rode  off  with  their  booty. 
The  wounded  were  now  to  be  looked  after.  There  was  no  Surgeon 
on  board ;  so  Mr.  Scott  found  it  necessary  to  begin  his  Commission 
work  before  he  had  expected  to  be  called  on.  He  began  to  dress 
wounds,  and,  in  utter  lack  of  bandages,  was  obliged  to  tear  up  his 
own  shirts.  Two  soldiers  volunteered  to  assist.  Five  balls  were  ex 
tracted,  dislocated  members  set,  and  the  wounds  of  sixteen  men 
dressed.  Mr.  Scott  remained  with  the  wounded  till  the  next  after 
noon,  when  Surgeons  came.  He  had  the  gratification  of  hearing  from 
them  that  the  disabled  men  had  all  been  properly  cared  for,  and  that 
their  wounds  were  doing  well. 

From  Mr.  Scott's  report  of  work  at  Tullahoina,  to 
which  post  he  was  assigned,  we  select  two  incidents : 

I  stopped  at  the  bedside  of  a  young  man,  the  classic  beauty  of 
whose  face  strangely  attracted  me.  I  asked  him  if  he  was  getting 
better : 

"  No.  sir;  I  am  going:  to  die." 
"  Mother's  Here."  ,  „,, 

Are  you  prepared  r 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  he,  with  a  glad  smile ;  "  I  gave  myself  to  Christ 
long  ago." 

"  Shall  I  write  home  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  do ;  it  would  please  mother  so  much.  Tell  mother, — 
tell — father," — his  voice  faltered,  and  soon  his  mind  began  to  wan 
der.  He  lay  unconscious  afterwards  for  a  little  while ;  then  waking 
from  his  stupor,  he  said,  in  a  manner  which  I  can  never  forget — 

"  Wait,  Chaplain,  you  needn't  mind ;  mother  s  here" 

He  lay  quiet  for  a  moment,  filled  perhaps  with  the  invisible  com 
munion,  and  then  "  fell  asleep." 

A  scene  in  one  of  the  wards  impressed  me  with  its  deep  solemnity 

Three  convalescent  soldiers  were  grouped  about  an  old,  gray-haired 

"  veteran."     They  had  just  finished  singing  a  familiar  and  beautiful 

hymn.     Evidently  the  old  man's  heart  was  deeply 

Earthh  H  touched  by  the  song  of  Zion.     His  face  was  lit  up 

with  something  of  the  brightness  which  must  have 

shone  from  St.  Stephen's  ;  he  scarcely  seemed  to  be  a  creature  of  earth. 


NASHVILLE.  439 

The  convalescents  began  another  hymn.  There  was  a  quivering  of 
the  old  man's  lips,  but  no  sound  came  from  them.  By  and  bye  thfc 
smile  and  the  brightness  became  fixed, — I  looked  closer, — he  was 
dead  !  The  soldiers  sang  on, — not  noticing  the  change.  The  hymn 
would  not  open  the  dull  ear  of  death,  but  who  can  say  that  the  freed 
spirit  did  not  drink  in  the  upward  floating  melody  ? 

Gen.  Clinton  B.  Fisk, — whom  we  have  already  met 
with  in  the  earlier  operations  of  the  Western  army — 
during  the  Summer  of  1865  was  acting  for  the  Freed- 
men's  Bureau  in  the  State  of  Tennessee,  with  his  head 
quarters  at  Nashville.  Rev.  Edward  P.  Smith1  relates 
an  incident  told  by  the  General  at  the  close  of  a  Sabbath 
service  in  Cumberland  Hospital,  Nashville,  during  July : 

One  of  my  noble  boys,  very  young  and  a  Christian,  was  brought 
into  the  hospital,  stricken  down  with  malarial  fever.     Weary  with 
the   tedium   of   camp-life  he   longed,  as   he   lay  on  his  weary  cot 
through  the  "  lazy,  leaden-stepping  hours,"  for  the 
active  fray.     His  ideal  of  a  soldier's  life  was  "  at  the      F     t" 
front."     Learning  of  his  sickness,  and  that  he  must* 
soon  die,  I  hastened  to  his  side.     After  talking  with  him  about  his 
soldier  life,  his  home  and  his  approaching  death,  I  said — 

"  Now,  my  boy,  when  I  get  back  to  St.  Louis,  I  shall  go  to  see 
your  mother,  and  the  first  question  she  will  ask  will  be, '  How  did 
Charley  die?'  Can't  you  tell  me  in  a  few  words  exactly  how  you  feel 
about  dying  ?" 

"  Yes,  General,"  said  he,  fastening  his  deep,  blue  eyes  upon  me ; 
"  I  think  I  can.  It  seems  just  as  if  I  was  going  to  the  front" 

And  so  indeed  he  was.  For  is  not  the  real  campaign  beyond,  for 
which  this  life  is  only  the  drill  camp  ? 

Our  record  of  incidents  of  work  in  this   army  may 


1  Eev.  Mr.  Smith  had  in  February  been  called  from  work  in  the  Western 
army  to  the  Potomac  field,  and  in  the  following  month  had  been  transferred  to 
the  post  of  Field  Secretary  at  the  Central  Office  in  Philadelphia. 


440  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

close  with  one  related  by  Rev.  Jeremiah  Porter,1  who 
was  laboring  in  August  among  the  troops  of  General 
Logan's  Corps,  in  and  about  Louisville,  Ky.  It  is 
characteristic  of  the  devoted  and  energetic  lady,  whose 
care  and  kindness  had  won  for  her  the  title  of  "  Mother 
of  Sherman's  Army" : 

Several  regiments  had  been  ordered  to  Texas ;  and  there  were  in 
dications  of  scurvy  within    their   ranks.     Energy  and   promptness 
could   provide  potatoes  for  them, — a  capital   anti-scorbutic.     Mrs. 
Bickerdyke  determined  that  they  should  have  them. 

How  Potatoes      jt  wag  gund        and  th    t  embarking ;  the 

were      sent      to 
Texas.  potatoes  must  be  drawn  from   the   Sanitary  rooms 

and  shipped  that  day,  or  the  men  would  suffer  from 
the  want  of  them.  An  ambulance  was  ordered  for  Mrs.  B.  and  my 
wife  ;  it  was  raining  in  torrents ;  they  went  to  the  Quartermaster's  for 
the  teams  which  had  been  promised  the  day  before,  and  which  the 
storm  had  delayed.  The  captain  of  one  of  the  steamers  had  pro 
mised  to  take  the  potatoes. 

The  ladies  waited  in  the  storm  until  the  army  wagons  were  loaded 
with  fifty  barrels  of  the  needed  vegetables ;  and  then,  hastening  in 
advance  to  the  river  bank,  were  astounded  to  find  that  the  boats  had 
already  left  the  levee.  The  spectators  volunteered  to  comfort  them 
by  remarking — 

"You're  too  late  ;    the  boats  have  gone." 

"  Gone !  they  shall  come  back,"  said  Mrs.  B.,  decisively. 

Assuming  an  attitude  of  command  worthy  of  Joan  of  Arc,  waving 
her  sun-bonnet  and  gesticulating  with  her  hands,  she  made  known 
her  orders.  The  steamer  obediently  returned  and  took  on  board 
the  supplies. 


1  At  the  outbreak  of  the  war  Pastor  of  the  Edwards  Congregational  Church 
[now  Seventh  Presbyterian),  Chicago. 


CHAPTEE    XVII. 

THE    WESTERN  ARMIES. 

WORK    ALONG    AND    NEAR    THE    MISSISSIPPI    RIVER. 
July  1863— Dec.  1865. 

OUR  last  notices  of  the  operations  on  the  Mississippi 
were,  of  the  fall  of  Vicksburg.  After  that  event  Gen. 
Grant  sent  Sherman  after  Johnston,  who  had  been 
hovering  upon  the  verge  of  the  Union  Army,  awaiting 
any  opportunity  that  might  offer  to  compel  the  raising 
of  the  siege.  Sherman  drove  his  adversary  out  of  Jack 
son,  after  a  painfully  fatiguing  march  from  Vicksburg. 
Mr.  A.  E.  Chamberlain  narrates  an  incident  connected 
with  this  movement : 

The  57th  Penna.  was  one  of  the  regiments  which  went  with  Sher 
man.     The  intense  heat  and  fatigue  of  the  rapid  journey  compelled 
the  men  to  throw  away  their  baggage.     A  soldier  named  Wilmarth 
had  with  him  a  Bible, — a  mother's  last  gift.     When 
he  had  thrown  away  his  knapsack,  he  carried  the  j       „ 

book  in  his  hand  for  a  long  distance,  until  the  ques 
tion  of  retaining  it  came  to  be  one  of  life  itself.  At  last,  to  keep  up 
with  the  rest,  he  was  obliged  to  leave  it  behind  him  on  the  road.  He 
put  it  where  he  could  see  it  for  a  long  time  as  he  marched  away. 
When  it  had  faded  from  view,  he  could  not  say  that  his  burden  was 
lighter  than  before. 

When  the  expedition  was  ended,  several  fractions  of  regiments 
which  had  suffered  greatly  passed  through  Cincinnati.  Among  these 
was  Wilmarth's.  I  went  over  on  their  arrival  to  see  the  Regimental 

441 


442  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Hospital.  For  six  weeks  the  men  had  had  no  changes,  and  were 
fearfully  dirty  and  neglected-looking.  Wilmarth  lay  on  the  first  cot. 
He  pulled  the  blanket  up  to  hide  his  squalor  and  wretchedness.  I 
had  brought  up  some  Scripture  portions  for  distribution ;  but  the  mo 
ment  I  entered,  I  saw  it  was  not  the  time  for  tracts  in  that  room. 
The  seventeen  men  needed  another  phase  of  Christ's  Gospel. 

"  Boys,  you  want  clean  clothes  first  of  all,"  I  said  ;  and  began  tak 
ing  an  account  of  missing  stock  to  be  supplied.  Coming  to  Wil 
marth,  I  asked  what  could  be  done  to  make  him  more  comfortable. 

"  I  was  never  a  beggar  in  my  life,"  he  replied. 

"  My  dear  boy,  this  isn't  begging;  all  I  want  to  do  is  to  pay  a  little 
installment  on  what  we  owe." 

The  Surgeon  sent  his  ambulance  to  the  Commission  rooms  for  the 
goods,  and  within  three  hours  I  called  again. 

The  three  hours  had  certainly  developed  a  revolution ;  one  would 
not  have  known  the  place  or  the  men's  faces.  Now  was  the  time  for 
Testaments.  Coming  to  Wilmarth,  I  asked  him  if  he  had  one.  His 
answer  was  the  incident  of  the  march  to  Jackson.  I  put  a  copy  of 
St.  John's  Gospel  at  his  side,  marked  a  few  passages,  and  spoke  of 
the  great  love  to  him.  So  with  them  all.  Then,  after  a  short  ser 
vice,  I  bade  them  good-bye,  never  expecting  to  see  them  again. 

Two  weeks  afterwards,  Rev.  Mr.  Chidlaw  and  I  held  Sunday  ser 
vice  at  Licking  Hospital.  I  noticed  a  soldier  leaning  against  a  post; 
going  to  him,  I  asked  if  he  was  a  Christian: 

"  I  don't  know,  sir ;  I'm  trying  to  be  one." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  trying  ?" 

"  Ever  since" — and  he  held  up  a  little  Scripture  portion  as  he 
spoke — "  ever  since  you  gave  me  that  book,  sir." 

I  remembered  him  at  once.  Taking  out  a  bright,  new  copy, — for 
his  was  already  worn  with  use, — I  asked — 

"  Suppose  you  give  me  that  one,  and  take  this." 

"  You  could  not  get  this  book,  sir,  for  the  whole  State  of  Kentucky ; 
it  brought  me  to  Jesus." 

Going  over  not  long  afterwards  with  reading  matter,  Wilmarth  met 
me  at  the  gate  and  said — 

"  Mr.  Chamberlain,  I  want  to  ask  a  favor  of  you;  would  you  mind 
giving  me  the  reading  you  send  over  here  to  the  hospital  ?  I  could 
talk  to  the  men  about  Christ,  if  I  had  it  to  distribute  " 


MEMPHIS.  443 

I  gladly  assented  to  the  arrangement,  and  until  he  was  sent  tf  his 
regiment,  several  weeks  later,  he  did  a  faithful  Chaplain's  duty  in 
that  hospital. 

The  work  along  the  Mississippi  was  mainly  in  the 
field  of  the  St.  Louis  Committee  of  the  Commission. 
Mr.  K.  A.  Burnell  and  Mr.  F.  G.  Ensign  were  its 
Agents,  with  their  headquarters  at  Memphis.  Some  of 
Mr.  Ensign's  reminiscences  follow  : 

In  the  Gayoso  Hospital  at  Memphis,  I  found  a  soldier  who  had 
lost  an  arm  and  leg  in  the  first  grand  assault  on  Vicksburg.  I  gave 
him  some  cordial,  and  made  him  as  comfortable  as  I  could.  He  asked 
in  a  surprised  tone  — 


"Who    are    you?    Where    did    you    get    these    Dom 
things?" 

I  told  him  how  they  came  from  Northern  homes. 

"  Who  sent  them  ?"  he  asked  again,  in  a  kind  of  bewilderment. 

"  The  people  at  home  who  love  you." 

Tears  came  into  his  eyes  as  he  lay  quiet  for  a  moment. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  I  haven't  done  anything  to  be  remembered  so." 

"  You  have  given  your  leg  and  arm." 

But  this  fact  did  not  strike  him  as  at  all  important  ;  he  only  reit 
erated,  —  "  I  haven't  done  anything."  I  told  him  I  had  a  nice  little 
Testament  for  him  : 

"My  eyes  are  weak,  sir;  I'm  afraid  the  print's  too  small,"  and  he 
looked  longingly  at  the  book. 

I  gave  him  one  of  the  beautifully-printed  Scripture  portions  of  the 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  when  he  found  that  his  eyes  rested  on  the  page 
without  pain,  "  this  is  the  best  of  all.  I  have  been  here  for  weeks, 
and  I  did  want  to  read  the  Bible  so.  This  is  just  what  I  want.  Who 
sent  it  ?" 

"  Those  at  home  and  across  the  sea  who  love  you  and  pray  for 
you." 

Again  the  unselfish  heart  found  utterance  : 

"  Why,  I  haven't  done  anything." 


444  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

I  spoke  to  him  of  Jesus,  and  visited  him  often  afterwards.  He 
gave  his  heart  to  the  Master. 

About  the  beginning  of  November,  a  soldier  of  the  7th  Indiana 
Cavalry  came  into  our  rooms,  with  soiled  clothes  and  a  worn  appear 
ance  generally.  Cut  off  from  his  comrades  while  on  a  scout,  he  had 

with  much  difficulty  straggled   back  to  Memphis. 
The  Two  Let-  J  F 

JT  His  nrst  request  was  lor  envelopes  and  paper  to  write 

home.     Bringing  his  letter  to  me,  he  said — 
"  Could  you  lend  me  a  stamp  ?     I  have  no  money." 
I  told  him  I  would  mail  the  letter  for  him. 
"  Well,  but,"  said  he,  argumentatively,  "  I  want  to  pay  for  it." 
"  We  don't  take  any  pay  here." 

"  But  how  do  you  get  these  things  to  run  the  concern  ?" 
I  told  him  friends  at  home  sent  them  : 
"  Whose  friends  ?     You  don't  mean  mine  ?" 
"  Yes,"  I  replied ;  "  friends  who  are  Christians  sent  them." 
"  Why,"  said  he,  musingly,  "  my  wife's  a  Christian." 
"  Very  probably  then,  she  helps  to  send  such  things." 
I  showed  him  an  envelope,  on  which  was  printed,  "  This  is  a  gift 

of  Christian  love  to  you,  soldier."     His  eyes  filled,  as  he  read  it : 
"  I  never  knew  religion  meant  this  before." 
In  the  afternoon,  we  began  our  daily  prayer  meeting  with  the 

hymn — 

"All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name." 

During  the  first  prayer,  I  heard  some  one  sobbing  aloud.  When  the 
meeting  was  over,  I  found  it  was  my  soldier  friend  of  the  morning. 
He  told  me,  that  while  passing  the  door,  something  urged  him  to 
enter ;  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  would  be  lost  if  he  passed  on,  and 
that  there  was  salvation  if  the  inward  voice  was  obeyed.  We  prayed 
for  him,  and  with  the  confidence  of  a  little  child,  the  man  there  gave 
himself  up  to  Jesus. 

He  came  in  the  next  morning.  There  was  another  letter  to  be 
written ;  it  was  to  tell  of  a  life  turned  at  last  into  its  right  course, 
and  it  was  to  gladden  the  heart  of  a  waiting,  praying  wife. 

A  soldier  of  the  89th  Indiana  came  in  one  morning  in  the  begin 
ning  of  1864,  sat  down  at  my  desk  and  opened  a  letter.  He  sobbed 
aloud  as  he  read  it.  I  asked  what  I  could  do  for  him.  He  gtvve 


MEMPHIS.  445 

me  the  letter  to  read ;  it  was  from  his  sister,  with 

.      ,      ,      .        mi  "SheWon'tPray 

the   sad   news  of  his    mother's   death.     The   poor,     jorme  anymore» 

bereaved  man  said — 

"  My  mother's  been  praying  for  me  all  my  life,  and  especially  since 
I  came  to  the  army.  I've  felt  her  following  me.  Those  prayers  have 
been  a  great  protection, — and  now  she  is  dead, — and  mother  won't 
pray  for  me  any  more.  What  shall  I  do  ?  I  don't  feel  safe  without 
mother's  prayers." 

"  Why,"  said  I,  "  Jesus  loves  you,  and  you  must  pray  for  yourself. 
Your  mother's  prayers  cannot  save." 

"  But,  can  I  pray  ?" 

"  Certainly  you  can." 

"  Won't  you  teach  me  how  to  pray  ?" 

"  I  will  try,"  I  answered.  "  Don't  you  want  to  give  your  heart  to 
Jesus,  and  love  Him  for  giving  you  such  a  mother.  Now,  I'll  pray 
first,  and  I* want  you  to  follow  me." 

I  prayed  with  the  burden  of  the  poor,  chastised  heart  on  mine, 
and  I  shall  never  forget  his  childlike  petition  which  followed — 

"  Dear  Jesus,  my  mother  is  gone  home  to  Thee ;  teach  me  to  pray 
as  You  taught  her," — this  was  his  deep  and  earnest  longing,  some 
thing  to  fill  the  void  which  had  been  made  in  his  life.  He  very  soon 
gave  himself  entirely  to  Jesus,  and  came  forth  a  bright  and  devoted 
Christian.  He  used  to  say  to  me — 

"  I  want  to  live  as  my  mother  prayed." 

As  long  as  I  knew  him  his  life  was  consistent  with  his  desire. 

The  St.  Louis  Committee  succeeded  in  enlisting  quite 
a  number  of  earnest,  self-denying  ladies  in  its  work. 
Some  of  these  labored  more  especially  in  the  barracks 
and  hospitals  in  and  near  the  city.  A  sample  of  their 
service  and  method  of  dealing  with  the  men  may  be 
gathered  from  the  following  extracts  from  the  journal 
of  Miss  Sue  McBeth : 

"No.  1,  Schofield  Barracks"  is  a  transportation  depot  for  going 
South,  or  returning  home  on  furlough.  One  day  it  is  crowded,  the 


446  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

next   almost  empty.     All  classes   of  men    are   for  a  time   brought 

together  here. 

"Hard  Ca     "  "  ^e  nave  a^out  the  hardest  men  in  our  hospital 

that  you  can  find  anywhere,"  said  the  commanding 
officer,  one  November  afternoon  when  Mrs.  M.  and  I  went  to  see  if 
he  would  not  appropriate  to  us  a  room  for  Commission  purposes, 
wherein  to  store  our  library,  stationery,  etc. 

"  We've  been  up  stairs  all  the  afternoon,  and  haven't  yet  found 
any  'hard  cases.'" 

"  Of  course,  they  wouldn't  behave  badly  before  you." 

He  was  very  kind,  promised  us  the  room,  and  allowed  the  men 
afterwards  to  go  across  the  street  to  prayer  meeting,  and  very  pre 
cious  hours  were  some  of  these. 

"  Can  you  raise  yourself  up,  so  as  to  look  out  ?"  I  said  to  a  sick 
boy  as  the  wind  one  day  bore  the  voice  of  singing  from  the  yard 
below ;  "  isn't  that  a  pleasant  sight  ?" 

"  Yes,  indeed  it  is,"  was  his  answer. 

The  setting  sun  was  glancing  on  a  hundred  or  more  new  uniforms, 
as  their  wearers  sat  ranged  in  rows  on  the  narrow  piazza,  or  stood 
facing  the  Delegate  who  spoke  to  them  the  words  of  life. 

Yesterday,  as  I  was  talking  to  this  same  soldier,  I  noticed  two 
strangers  coming  into  the  ward.  One  of  them  belonged  to  the  176th 
Illinois,  a  regiment  just  discharged  and  going  home,  but  this  man,  too 

sick  to  proceed,  had  got  a  comrade  to  stay  with  him. 

Getting  Ready 

to  Live  n  wantmg  so  much  to  see  you  again,    he 

said  when  I  spoke  to  him  : 

"  Why,  did  you  ever  see  me  before  ?" 

"  Yes,  in  Ward  1,  Benton  Barracks.  Don't  you  remember,  I  was 
the  one,  you  said,  who  was  taking  jaundice." 

I  could  not  remember  him  ;  but  he  went  on  : 

"  I've  been  thinking  so  much  of  what  you  said  then,  and  I  wanted 
to  see  you  again  to  tell  you.  You  remember  I  said  something  about 
'  getting  ready  to  die,'  and  you  said  you  didn't  believe  in  that, — it 
wasn't  the  right  thing  to  do  ;  I  ought  to  '  get  ready  to  live' ;  I  owed 
my  life  to  God,  and  it  was  not  right  to  keep  it  back  from  Him ;  I 
ought  to  present  my  body  a  living  sacrifice  to  God,  which  was  my 
reasonable  service,  instead  of  turning  to  Him  at  the  last  moment, 
so  as  to  get  into  heaven." 


BEXTON    BARRACKS.  447 

'•And  did  you  do  so?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  did,"  he  said,  earnestly. 

He  had  many  of  the  Christian  family  marks,  and  again  expressed 
his  strong  desire,  in  life  or  in  death,  to  be  only  the  Lord's. 

"  You  remember  you  wanted  me  to  promise  to  begin  praying 
that  night,"  he  said  after  a  little,  "  and  I  told  you  I  was  afraid  to 
make  the  promise,  for  fear  I  would  break  it." 

"  But  you  did  pray  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  that  night  and  many  times  since." 

His  comrade  came  up  then,  and  I  began  giving  him  some  of  my 
little  tracts. 

"You   gave   me  that  before,"  said   he,  handing   me  back"TAe 

/Substitute.7' 

..  TTT,          ,.,  T     .       ..  .  „„  The  Substitute. 

"  When  did  I  give  it  to  you?" 

"  In  the  hospital  in  Benton  Barracks,  where  I  was  sick.  Don't 
you  remember?  I  have  all  the  little  books  you  gave  me  in  my 
knapsack  here,  and  I'm  taking  them  home  to  the  children." 

"  You  have  a  '  Substitute,'  have  you,  brother  ?"  I  said  as  I  re 
turned  the  tract  to  my  satchel.  "  You  see  there  is  a  last  great  '  Draft ' 
coming,  for  which  every  man  on  earth  is  '  enrolled.'  I  was  in  Ohio 
a  few  weeks  ago,  and  some  who  didn't  go  to  war  tried  very  hard  to 
get  'exempt,'  and  if  they  could  not,  they  took  great  trouble  to  find  a 
'substitute,'  paying  large  sums  to  get  others  to  take  their  '  chance,'  as 
they  called  it,  of  death.  Now,  against  that  last  grand  '  Draft,'  there 
is  a  '  Substitute'  provided,  Who  has  already  taken  our  place  even 
unto  death,  and  He  is  offered  '  without  money  and  without  price.' 
Have  you  accepted  Him  as  your  '  Substitute'  ?" 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  he,  earnestly ;  "  I  have  never  made  a  profession 
of  religion,  but — 

"  You  think  you  possess  it,"  I  said,  as  he  hesitated  : 

"  Yes,  I  do  hope  so." 

We  had  a  little  talk  about  the  duties  of  a  new  life : 

"  My  wife  wrote  me  that  she  had  been  thinking  about  these  things 
too  ;  in  her  last  letter  she  said  she  was  going  to  join  the  church,  and 
wanted  me  to  do  the  same.  I  was  so  glad  to  hear  it,  but  I  told  her 
to  wait  until  I  came  home,  and  we  would  take  hold  of  hands  and  go 
together." 

The  "  supper-call"  sounded.     I  wrote  their  names  in  their  Testa- 


448  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

merits  ;  their  good-bye  was  "  God  bless  you,"  and  mine,  the  prayer, 
"Send  them  forth  into  Thy  Kingdom,  dear  Saviour." 

One  Sabbath,  towards  the  year's  close,  while  talking  to  a  little 
fourteen-year-old  drummer-boy  in  AVard  P,  Jefferson  Barracks,  I 
noticed  a  soldier  at  a  little  distance  with  his  back  towards  me,  busily 

writing.     Going  to  him  presently,  I  asked — 
The     Wife's  ,„  .  .       , 

prayers.  Writing  home,  are  you  ? 

He  looked  up,  and  I  saw  it  was  one  whose  wife 
had  been  lately  visiting  him  : 

"  No,  I  wasn't  writing  a  letter ;  I  was  only  copying  a  prayer  my 
wife  sent  me.  You  see,  when  she  was  here  I  told  her  how  I  felt,  and 
when  she  went  home  she  wrote  down  two  prayers,  and  I'm  copying 
them  in  this,"  showing  me  his  note-book.  "  I  might  lose  the  letter, 
and  I'm  learning  them  by  heart.  My  wife's  a  Christian,  but  I  never 
cared  anything  about  these  things  until  I  came  into  the  army.  I 
had  no  father  or  mother  or  anybody  to  teach  me  anything  good  when 
I  was  a  boy,  and  I  just  worked  my  own  way  the  best  I  could.  I  didn't 
know  how  to  pray  right,  and,  oh,  I've  been  so  wicked." 

"Then  you  feel  how  much  you  have  sinned  against  God?" 

"  Yes,  oh,  so  much." 

"  Did  you  tell  God  how  you  felt?" 

"  Yes,  but  you  see,  I'm  so  little  used  to  pray  that  I  hardly  knew 
how." 

I  told  him  that 

"  Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire, 
Unutter'd  or  expressed," 


and  urged  him  to  give  himself  to  the  Saviour  now. 

"  I  have  tried  to  do  that,"  he  said,  humbly. 

"  Do  you  think  He  has  pardoned  you?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  sometimes  I  think  He  has ;  then  again,  I'm  afraid 
to  believe  it,  for  you  don't  know  how  great  a  sinner  I've  been,"  and 
the  soldier's  lips  quivered. 

"  But,  this  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that 
Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners, — not  the  righteous. 
Don't  you  find  some  love  for  Him  in  your  heart?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  a  great  deal." 


VICKSBUEG.  449 

"  More  than  for  your  wife  even  ?  Could  you  give  up  her  and  the 
little  ones,  rather  than  Him  ?" 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  then  looking  up  with  tear-filled  eyes,  he 
said,  slowly — 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  could  give  up  everything  in  this  world  rather  than 
give  up  Him." 

I  spoke  a  few  words  of  cautious  encouragement,  for  evidently  the 
Spirit  was  teaching  him.  It  was  not  long  until  the  witness  of  this 
was  given.  While  he  remained,  his  life  was  quiet,  consistent,  up 
right  :  he  carried  to  the  field  the  sure  trust  that  Christ  would  be  with 
him  "  even  to  the  end." 

The  veterans  of  Gen.  A.  J.  Smith's  Corps,  after  co 
operating  in  the  ill-fated  Red  River  Expedition,  were 
brought  back  to  Vicksburg.  Rev.  R.  Brown,1  a  Dele 
gate  during  June  and  July,  1864,  thus  describes  work 
among  them : 

Worn  and  discouraged,  they  lay  on  the  sands  by  the  Mississippi 
near  Vicksburg.  The  tents  for  the  troops  did  not  average  more  than 
one  to  a  company,  so  that  they  spent  most  of  the  day  under  their 

blankets  stretched  out  on  sticks  to  shelter  them  from 
,  ,T  Evening  Meet* 

the  intense  heat  of  the  sun.     Meetings  among  them     ingsat  VicJcsburgt 

were  impossible  in  the  day-time ;  as  we  distributed 

papers  from  company  to  company,  the  question  was  asked  if  we  could 

not  have  a  night  meeting  ?     The  men  were  more  than  willing. 

Chaplains  Smith  and  Bardwell  co-operating,  the  band  was  pro 
cured  to  play,  and  the  soldiers  began  gathering  about  us  in  the  dark 
ness.  Night  served  the  double  purpose  of  sheltering  from  the  heat 
and  of  hiding  the  nakedness  of  many  who  lay  under  their  blankets 
during  the  day  for  want  of  clothes.  There  was  a  solemn  glory  in 
the  scene ;  the  sparkle  of  the  stars  far  over  our  heads,  the  dark, 
broad,  silent  river,  with  the  fleet  of  transports  on  its  breast,  the  un 
seen  presence  of  the  distant  city,  the  flickering  light  of  the  circling 
camp-fires — and  close  before  us  the  shadowy  forms  of  the  brave  men 
upon  whom  still  rested  the  dust  of  battle. 


1  Pastor  of  First  Congregational  Church,  Oswego,  111. 
29 


450  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

We  spoke  of  friends  and  loved  ones  at  home,  and  then  of  the 
"  Friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother."  Half-suppressed  sighs 
and  sobs  began  to  come  to  us  out  of  the  midst  of  the  great  company ; 
and  when  at  last  we  asked  who  would  pledge  themselves  to  become 
the  friends  of  Christ,  though  in  the  darkness  we  could  not  see  them, 
we  knew  that  many  were  standing  up  in  solemn  dedication ;  and  our 
hearts  went  out  in  earnest  prayer  that  the  consecration  might  be 
unto  life. 

During  our  two  weeks'  stay  with  these  noble  men,  the  night  meet 
ings  were  continued  with  great  success,  the  sun-down  gun  being  the 
signal  for  gathering.  They  had  a  great  effect  upon  our  daily  prayer 
meeting  in  the  city ;  the  best-dressed  men  coming  in 
large  numbers  from  the  camp.  The  testimony  borne 
by  some  of  them  was  remarkable.  One  young  soldier,  I  remember, 
rose  the  day  before  my  departure,  and  with  deep  emotion,  said — 

"  Early  this  morning,  before  sunrise,  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  hu 
man  voice  coming  up  from  a  sheltered  ravine.  I  followed  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  sound,  and  found  it  was  the  voice  of  an  old  colored 
woman  in  prayer.  She  was  thanking  God  for  His  mercies  to  her, 
praying  for  the  soldiers  who  were  fighting  for  her  liberties,  and  for 
the  masters  who  had  enslaved  herself,  her  children  and  her  race. 
She  committed  the  yet  undecided  contest,  with  all  her  personal  inter 
ests,  into  His  hands,  with  such  implicit,  childlike  trust  that  I  turned 
away  utterly  condemned.  Since  then  troops  of  broken  vows  and 
pledges  have  come  to  memory.  They  are  so  many,  and  have  filled 
me  with  such  confusion,  that  I  have  come  here  to  day  to  renew  them 
before  you  all,  and  to  pledge  again  my  whole  heart  and  life  to  the 
Saviour." 

The  soldier's  intensely  earnest  manner  thrilled  every  listener. 

In  the  Fall  of  the  year,  the  Chaplain  of  a  large  col 
ored  regiment  in  the  neighborhood  of  Vicksburg,  wrote 
to  Mr.  A.  E.  Chamberlain,  of  Cincinnati,  for  Primers. 
Mr.  Chamberlain  sent  them,  and  adds  a  subsequent 
history : 

Soon  after,  another  request  came  for  five  hundred  Testaments,  and 
again  another  for  five  hundred  more.  In  his  last  letter  the  Chaplain 


VICKSBURG.  451 

told  me  that  he  had  one  thousand  men  who  could  read  the  Tes 
tament.     Shortly  afterwards  I  had  a  visit  from  him. 

TT          i     j  •   11      r-  i  •    .    T*-I  i  " Uncle Readin' 

He  asked  me  especially  for  a  large-print  Bible  or       ..     rT.    „.. 

for  Hisself." 

Tt-stament,  to    be   used   by  an  old   soldier   named 
"  Uncle  Sam,"  whose  story  is  worth  preserving. 

"  The  day  before  I  came  away,"  said  the  Chaplain,  "  we  were  orga 
nising  regimental  writing  schools.  '  Uncle  Sam,'  though  an  indus 
trious  student  of  reading,  seemed  to  lack  enthusiasm  in  the  new 
enterprise. 

" '  Uncle,'  said  I,  at  last,  '  you  want  to  learn  to  write,  don't 
you  ?' 

" '  No,  massa,  no ;  uncle  care's  nun*in'  'bout  de  writinV 

"  '  What  made  you  so  anxious  to  learn  to  read,  then  ?' 

" '  Wanted  to  read  God's  own  word,  massa.' 

"  '  Can  you  read  it  yet,  uncle  ?' 

"  He  took  his  Bible,  and  opened  it  at  St.  John's  third  chapter : 
'  God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave  His  Only  Begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life.' 

"  He  began  spelling  the  words ;  when  he  was  half  through  the  sen 
tence  his  feelings  overcame  him  ;  looking  up,  he  asked — 

"  '  Is  dis  ra'al  ?     Is  dis  de  sure-'nuff  word  ob  de  Lord  ?' 

"  '  No  doubt  about  it,  uncle.' 

" '  An'  uncle  readin'  it  for  hisself !' 

"  He  took  the  book  and  spelled  through  the  rest  'of  the  sentence. 

" '  Now,'  said  he,  '  if  ole  uncle  dies,  he  kin  go  up  dar,  and  tell  de 
good  Lor'  Jesus  dat  he  read  in  His  Own  Book,  "  Whomsumever 
b'liebes  on  'm  shan't  perish,  but  hab  eberlastin'  life,"  an'  de  Lor' 
knows  dat  Uncle  Sam  b'liebes  on  'm, — an'  he  read  it  for  hisself  in 
His  Own  Book.' " 

Uncle  Sam's  indifference  to  his  opportunity  to  learn  to  write  was 
fully  explained ;  his  mind  was  occupied  with  the  direct  revelation 
from  God. 

An  interesting  letter,  written  in  October  of  this  year, 
by  an  officer  of  the  army  in  Louisiana,  to  Mr.  J.  H. 
Parsons,  the  Corresponding  Secretary  of  the  St.  Louis 


452  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Committee,  gives  an  observant  soldier's  opinion  upon 
the  comparative  mortality  among  Christians  and  others 
in  the  army  : 

H.  Q,  ProvisiosrAL  BRIGADE,  MORGAXZIA,  LA.,  Oct.  19th,  1864. 
4  We  have  lost  very  severely  in  men  and  officers  this 
Summer  and  Fall.     Some  regiments  have  buried  nearly  one-half  of 

their  men.     I  had  from  the  first  taken  special  pains 
Religion   and  -. .   . 

JT    •  to  have  religious  services  held  often  in  my  regiment, 

when  I  commanded  it.  Often  hearing  irreligious 
officers  say  that  this  was  one  of  the  causes  of  great  mortality,  as 
'  religion  tended  to  depress  the  spirits  of  the  men,'  and  that  if  these 
exercises  were  banished,  the  health  of  my  men  would  improve,  I  de 
termined  to  find  out  the  truth  of  this ;  and  upon  a  careful  examina 
tion,  I  was  disappointed,  I  must  acknowledge,  to  find  that,  while  tico- 
fifths  of  my  regiment  had  died  since  entering  the  service,  only  one  in 
every  eight  of  those  who  were  Christians  had  died,  showing  a  great 
disparity  in  favor  of  the  latter.  I  also,  by  the  same  examination, 
learned  that  those  who  were  most  zealous  in  learning  were  least  liable 
to  sickness,  and  when  sick  they  generally  recovered  soonest. 

"  These  facts  at  first  impressed  me  as  strange,  but  I  have  no  reason 
to  doubt  them,  as  they  were  obtained  by  careful  officers.  *  *  *  * 

"  A.  J.  EDGERTON, 

" Colonel  Commanding  Brigade" 

Near  the  close  of  1864,  by  an  arrangement  between  the 
Western  Branches,  the  care  of  the  important  station  of 
Cairo,  the  "  gate"  of  the  Western  army,  was  transferred 
to  the  special  superintendence  of  the  Peoria  Committee. 
From  reports  of  their  Agent,  Rev.  J.  D.  Wyckoff,1  we 
select  the  following  incidents  of  work : 

No  part  of  the  Delegate's  ministry  was  fuller  of  consolation  and 
blessing  than  the  duty  of  writing  home  letters  for  the  men.  I  re 
member  a  noble-looking,  reticent  Indian  of  the  16th  Wise.,  named 


1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Elmwood,  111. 


CAIRO.  453 

Peter  Powels,  who  had  not  heard  from  wife  or  mother 

,,        .  An   Indian's 

for  six  months,  and  who  was  too  shy  to  ask  any  one  „          ^    7 

J                       J  Reserve  Broken. 

to  write  for  him.     By  degrees  I  found  out  something 
about  his  friends,  and  was  able  to  write  a  letter  for  him,  which 
pleased  him  mightily.     I  shall  not  soon  forget  how  his  brown  face 
flushed  up,  when  he  found  that  in  his  delight  he  had  let  go  the 
sentence — 

"  Tell  her  I  would  be  glad  to  see  her,"  as  if  that  was  too  much  for 
an  Indian  to  confess. 

Passing  along  the  street,  I  once  greeted  a  stalwart  soldier,  who 
warmly  grasped  my  proffered  hand,  and  said,  without  further  intro 
duction — 

"  I  have  no  'abiding  city'  here." 

"May  I  ask  if  you  seek  one  to  come?" 

J  J  Burning. 

"  Yes,  thank  God,  I  do.     I  don't  have  any  time  to 
myself,  but  I  try  to  keep  the  lamp  burning." 

On  inquiring,  I  found  his  to  be  a  most  remarkable  case.  Away 
from  home  and  all  Christian  associations,  with  no  Sabbath,  with  in 
adequate  rest,  with  no  time  even  for  a  prayer  meeting,  pursuing  his 
laborious  duty  of  wagon-master  in  the  wicked  city  of  Cairo,  he  could 
yet  so  keep  the  inward  light  burning,  that  when  I  met  him  first,  it 
seemed  to  shine  out  from  his  eyes  into  mine. 

In  the  Keceiving  Ship  at  Cairo  were  six  or  seven  hundred  sailors. 
Among  them  all  I  could  learn  of  but  a  single  Christian.  Accident 
ally  another  was  discovered  by  his  coming  to  me  for  a  Bible : 

"  Haven't  you  got  one  ?" 

a  -\r         •       T          ±  -j.  e  J.T         i    »  John  Jones. 

Yes,  sir ;  I  want  it  for  a  mate,  though. 

I  gave  him  one  with  a  word  of  encouragement,  and  left  him,  to 
watch  for  the  tug  which  was  to  carry  me  to  Mound  City.  Presently 
he  returned  and  asked  me  for  a  New  York  Observer.  Some  further 
conversation  ensued.  I  found  that  he  had  no  father  or  mother,  that 
Jesus  was  his  only  friend,  and  again  bade  him  good-bye.  The  tug 
was  still  invisible,  and  the  sailor  came  up  again.  Extending  his 
right  hand,  partly  closed  and  inverted,  he  said — 

"  I  want  to  do  something  for  Christ ;  won't  you  take  this  for  the 
Commission  ?" 

He  had  handed  me  five  dollars  out  of  his  poverty,  and  would  not 
be  denied  the  privilege  of  giving  it.  I  asked  his  name ;  reluctantly 


454  CHKISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

he  gave  it  —  a  rare  one,  I  believe,  —  John  Jones.     I  shall  not  soon 
forget  his  quiet,  subdued,  half-tearful  manner. 

This  was  in  November  ;  two  months  later  I  started  from  Cairo  to 
visit  the  Mississippi  gun-boat  fleet.  After  boarding  several  vessels,  I 
was  transferred  to  the  St.  Clair,  Captain  J.  S.  French.  I  had  been 

so  disheartened  at  not  meeting  with  any  Christians 
John    Jones 
Aqain  ou  some  0*  tne  °ther  boats,  that  this  visit  charmed 

me  exceedingly.  Here  were  three  Christian  officers  ; 
the  commander  was  a  generous,  courteous  "  old  salt,"  who,  the  first 
evening  of  my  visit,  called  the  men  on  deck  and  introduced  me  to 
them  with  some  crisp,  telling  words.  He  showed  me  a  well-worn 
copy  of  the  little  book  called  Daily  Food,  to  which,  he  said,  it  was  just 
as  natural  for  him  to  go  in  the  morning  as  it  was  to  eat  his  breakfast. 

I  found  four  Christian  sailors  on  board.  After  a  meeting  on  Fri 
day  evening,  a  man  came  up  on  the  quarter-deck  and  said  he  would 
like  to  "  see  the  Keverend."  I  stepped  aside  to  see  him  ;  he  handed 
me  a  five-dollar  bill,  saying  — 

"  Put  that  where  it'll  do  good." 

I  looked  narrowly  at  him,  and  lo  !  there  was  my  old  friend,  John 
Jones  of  last  November.  It  was  as  good  as  a  run  home  to  meet  him 
again  and  find  him  still  holding  to  the  blessed  way. 

The  terrible  "  Eclipse  disaster"1  changed  all  my  plans  of  visita 

tion.     God  grant  I  may  never  have  such  work  to  do  again.     Such 

was  the  accumulation  of  severer  cases,  that  the  men  with  broken 

limbs  had  to  wait  a  whole  day  ere   they  could  be 

Crying  out  of       attended  to>      The  fri   htful  bu          with  the  excrucia- 


Pain  for  a  Sa- 

v-our  ting  resulting  pain,  made  the  scene  one  of  living  death. 

One  poor  fellow  recognized  my  voice.  He  had  been 
a  few  times  at  our  Cairo  meetings.  He  was  fearfully  scalded  all  over 
the  body,  and  could  scarcely  see.  He  moaned  out  that  he  wanted 
"  to  see  the  Christian  Commission  man."  I  came  to  him  : 

"  I  am  the  Christian  Commission  man,  my  dear  fellow  ;  what  can 
I  do  for  you  ?" 

"  I  was  in  your  meetings  there;  I  was  ashamed  to  ask  you  to  pray 


1  The  Mississippi  steamboat,  Eclipse,  was  blown  up  while  bringing  North  a 
large  number  of  men,  who  were  on  furlough,  or  whose  terms  of  enlistment  had 
expired. 


VICKSBUKG.  455 

for  me  then.  I've  been  a  great  sinner,  but  I'm  seeking  repentance 
and  forgiveness.  I'm  not  ashamed  to  ask  Christians  to  pray  for  me 
now.  I've  been  in  battle  since  I  saw  you  ;  but  oh,  that  was  nothing 
to  this!" 

I  told  him  about  the  Healer  of  pains,— the  ever-waiting  Saviour 
of  the  world. 

It  was  a  solemn,  oppressive,  dazing  day ;  one  which  made  me  wish 
for  the  end  of  the  misery  of  the  war,  for  the  coming  in  of  the  day 
of  Eternal  Peace. 

Poor  fellows!  they  had  taken  passage  on  their  way  home  from  the 
war ;  many  of  them  having  just  finished  their  terms  of  enlistment. 
They  had  had  bright  anticipations  of  the  pleasant  greetings  hidden 
by  the  hills  and  the  long  prairie  reaches  between  them  and  home, — 
greetings  which  to  so  many  never  came. 

Miss  Katharine  M.  Bissell 1  was  a  Delegate  in  the 
Commission  rooms  at  Vicksburg  towards  the  close  of 
1864  and  in  the  beginning  of  1865.  An  incident  told 
by  her  illustrates  the  value  of  the  work  which  could  be 
done  by  ladies  in  the  army : 

In  the  neighborhood  of  Vicksburg,  about  December,  was  quartered 
a  brigade  of  soldiers,  who  for  several  reasons  were  in  a  rather  de 
moralized  condition.  The  men  were  often  almost  ungovernable. 

Only  one  of  the  officers  seemed  to  have  any  special 

The  Sergeant's 
control  over  them,  and  he  never  left  them  for  a  mo-      Determination 

ment,  exerting  himself  earnestly  to  restore  reason 
and  authority. 

Sergeant  Fuller,  of  one  of  these  regiments,  came  into  our  rooms 
one  morning  and  leaned  against  the  reading  rack.  The  whole  ex 
pression  of  his  face  was  one  of  homesickness  and  indifference, — per 
haps  of  something  worse.  I  was  taxing  my  brain  to  find  some  way  of 
approaching  the  Sergeant  without  giving  offence,  when  I  thought  of 
a  beautiful  bouquet  of  flowers  which  I  had  received  that  morning. 
Holding  them  out  to  him,  I  said — 

"  Don't  you  think  they  are  pretty,  Sergeant  ?" 


Of  Hartford,  Wis. 


456  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

He  vouchsafed  them  a  peculiar,  masculine  glance,  bowed  and 
smiled  carelessly,  then  turned  to  his  reading.  I  was  a  little  non 
plussed  at  first,  but  soon  saw  that  he  wanted  to  talk  with  me, — 
whether  it  was  their  fragrance  which  reached  him,  or  possibly  some 
home  memories  which  the  flowers  had  quickened,  I  don't  know.  I 
watched  him  a  while  till  I  was  sure,  and  then  told  him  I  would  be  at 
leisure  in  a  moment.  We  began  a  general  conversation.  As  soon 
as  I  could  I  introduced  the  great  question — 

"Are  you  a  Christian,  Sergeant?" 

"  I  am  not  a  Christian  now  ;  I  hoped  once  that  I  was,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  so  little  about  it  which  I  could  claim  as  a  Christian 
experience,  that  I  came  to  doubt  it  altogether,  and  now  I'm  as  reck 
less  as  any  of  the  others." 

I  talked  with  him  seriously  and  earnestly.  He  seemed  deeply 
impressed,  but  would  make  no  promise  concerning  the  future.  After 
that  he  came  often  to  our  rooms,  and  always  renewed  the  conversa 
tion  about  the  Christian  life,  until  one  day,  after  an  unusually  long 
talk,  he  stated  his  determination  to  become  a  Christian.  From  that 
time  he  was  one  of  the  brightest  examples  I  ever  met.  His  com 
rades  noticed  the  change,  and  asked  what  made  him  "  so  still  ?" 
He  told  them  he  had  found  something  to  keep  him  quiet  all  the  rest 
of  the  days  of  his  life. 

Rev.  Ewing  O.  Tade,1  the  Local  Agent  at  Memphis, 
in  May,  1865,  sent  to  the  Chairman  of  the  Commission 
a  watch,  handed  him  by  a  noble-hearted  Christian  sol 
dier  of  the  113th  111.  Inf.  The  following  note  accom 
panying  the  gift,  explained  its  beautiful  meaning  and 
purpose : 

"A  soldier,  whose  earthly  light  went  out  when  his  little  boys,  Paul 
and  Frankie,  died  last  March,  thought,  though  poor,  that  decent 
gravestones  should  mark  the  spot  where  they  lie  listening  for  the 

word  which  shall  call  them  forth  to  immortality. 
The  Children's  tt  ^    .  ,       ...     , 

Memorial  thinks  he  now  sees  a  more  excellent  way, 

— to  leave  their  precious  dust  with  no  costly  rnemo- 
1  Pastor  of  Congregational  Church,  Washington,  Iowa. 


LITTLE    ROCK.  457 

rial,  seeing  that  He  who  redeemed  shall  watch  it  carefully.  Let  the 
price  of  the  marble  be  expended  in  sending  forth  the  Living  Word;  so 
they,  being  dead,  shall  yet  speak.  That  whatever  the  accompanying 
watch  may  bring  shall  be  devoted  to  the  American  Bible  Society,  as 
the  gift  of  two  little  lambs,  Paul  and  Frankie,  who  are  now  walking 
in  the  green  and  pleasant  pastures  by  the  side  of  the  river  of  Life, — 

is  the  wish  of  their  father, 

"  S.  L.  URMSTON." 

The  watch,  with  a  narrative  of  the  particulars,  was  sent  to  the 
American  Bible  Society.  The  reading  of  the  soldier's  letter,  at  a 
meeting  of  the  Board  of  Managers,  excited  deep  interest  and  sym 
pathy.  Urmston  was  made  a  Life  Member  of  the  Society,  and  pre 
sented  with  a  handsomely  bound  copy  of  the  Bible. 

The  work  among  the  troops  in  Arkansas  was  much 
the  same  as  elsewhere.  A  few  of  its  incidents,  from  the 
reports  of  Agents  and  Delegates,  may  be  given.  Mr. 
C.  C.  Thayer,1  who  was  for  a  long  time  a  Field  Agent 
in  Arkansas,  narrates  an  incident  occurring  at  Little 
Rock: 

A  very  devoted  Christian  soldier,  whose  love  for  his  country  and 
family  I  had  never  seen  surpassed,  lay  dying.  He  was  dreaming ; 
and  as  he  approached  the  River  of  Death,  a  vision  of  his  home  came 
back  to  him  vividly.  He  seemed  to  be  leaving  it 

once  more  for  the  war,  and  to  be  passing  along  the          *"*  Heavenly 

and  the  Earthly 
old  road  ;  a  bend  would  soon  hide  all  he  loved  from      Homes. 

view.     In  the  dream  he  turned  for  one  last  look  :  in 
his  agony,  he  cried  out — 

"  O  my  wife,  my  darling  wife !  who  made  my  home  so  happy,  must 
we  separate  ?  My  dear  only  son, — our  joy  and  pride,  must  I  leave 
you  ?" 

He  was  silent  a  moment.  Perhaps  in  the  mean  time,  a  new  and 
brighter  vision, — the  verity  from  which  the  earthly  one  had  ever 


1  Of  Chicago  (Congregational)  Theological  Seminary.     Now,  a  Missionary  of 
the  American  Board  in  Central  Turkey. 


458  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

drawn  its  brightness  and  beauty, — was  revealed.  There  was  another 
bend  in  the  road  ;  beyond  were  kinder  arms  than  behind  : 

"  Yes,  wife,  I  can  give  you  up,  and  darling  Henry  too, — country, 
friends,  all — all ;  but,  Jesus,  I  cannot  give  You  up." 

The  eyes  that  were  looking  upon  the  "Elder  Brother"  shone 
brightly.  Doubtless,  ere  this,  he  has  found  that  pure  human  ties 
never  break ;  that  they  could  only  be  weak  here  on  earth,  because 
Christ's  unseen  presence  was  weak  also ;  that  when  that  grows  into  a 
continual  knowledge,  they  will  become  infinitely  more  real  and 
beautiful. 

Another  sketch  by  Miss  Bissell,  of  work  at  Little 
Rock  in  June,  gives  the  result  of  an  effort  to  bring  a 
soldier  to  a  present  decision  for  Christ : 

Joseph  Adams  was  a  small,  slender  boy  belonging  to  the  25th  Ohio 
Battery, — a  wild  set  of  men,  as  far  as  any  religious  influences  were 
concerned,  and  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  rather  aristocratic. 

Delegates  used  to  say  they  were  the  hardest  men  to 
Decide  Now.  J .  m. 

preach  to  on  the  whole  station,  ihey  prided  them 
selves  on  their  fine  appearance,  were  always  well  dressed,  never  left 
their  camp  without  polishing  their  boots,  cleaning  their  teeth,  ar 
ranging  their  hair,  and  in  every  way  making  themselves  as  attractive 
as  possible.  Adams  was  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  had  already 
contracted  many  of  his  comrades'  bad  habits.  He  was  one  of  the 
best  gamblers  in  the  battery.  His  habit  was  to  save  his  wages,  and 
use  his  gambling  gains  for  other  expenses.  The  first  time  I  saw  him 
he  was  bringing  back  a  book  to  our  library  : 

"  I'm  tired  of  these  religious  books ;  I'll  take  a  history." 
I  got  the  desired  history  for  him,  and  began  a  conversation.  Pie 
was  very  communicative,  but  his  use  of  tobacco  was  so  excessive  as 
seriously  to  impede  conversation.  Several  times  he  begged  my  par 
don,  while  he  awkwardly  hurried  to  the  door  to  discharge  his  over 
flowing  mouth.  It  began  to  dawn  upon  him  then  that  chewing  in  a 
lady's  presence  was  hardly  in  good  taste,  and  so  mortified  was  he 
that  he  apologized  and  declared  that  he  would  never  chew  again. 
In  our  talk  he  expressed  his  utter  unbelief  in  Christianity,  and  spoke 
lightly  of  conversion.  When  he  wras  through,  I  asked  him — 


LITTLE    ROCK.  459 

"  Adams,  do  you  really  know  what  we  mean  by  conversion  ?" 

"  Well,  no,"  said  he  ;  "  I  don't  know  that  I  do— exactly." 

I  gave  him  the  best  idea  of  it  I  could, — how  it  was  our  duty  to  put 
ourselves  in  harmony  with  God,  and  consecrate  our  lives  to  Him. 
Not  regarding  his  sneers  against  Christianity,  I  urged  him  to  make 
this  consecration  at  once.  He  was  unwilling.  I  told  him  how  much 
less  willing  he  would  be  in  three  or  four  years  hence.  He  looked  up 
in  a  sharp  way : 

"  I  suppose  three  or  four  years  ago  you  would  have  said  the  same 
thing." 

"  Very  possibly,"  I  replied  ;  "  and  can  you  say  that  it  would  not 
have  been  true?" 

As  he  went  away  I  gave  him  God's  Way  of  Peace,  by  Bonar ;  he 
promised  to  read  and  return  it.  When  he  came  back,  I  found  that 
he  was  trying  to  compromise  the  matter,  but  I  held  him  to  the  point 
of  present  decision.  Finally  he  could  elude  the  issue  no  longer,  so 
he  told  me — 

"  I  won't  decide  the  matter  here.     I  want  to  think  it  over  more." 

He  looked  at  the  clock ;  it  was  just  a  quarter  to  eleven  : 

"  Can  you  decide  within  twenty-four  hours  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he ;  "  I  can,  and  will." 

The  next  day,  at  a  quarter  before  eleven,  a  note  came  from  him, 
stating  that  he  had  been  assigned  to  duty  the  preceding  evening,  and 
could  not  get  off;  that  he  had  been  thinking  the  matter  over  while 
walking  his  beat,  and  had  decided  to  be  a  Christian  ;  "  with  God's 
help,"  he  added,  "  I  mean  to  be  one  truly." 

He  kept  his  word  nobly,  and  for  the  months  in  which  he  remained 
at  the  post  he  gave  the  clearest  evidence  of  a  change  of  heart.  Of 
course  he  was  subjected  to  no  small  measure  of  ridicule,  but  he  en 
dured  it  bravely  for  the  sake  of  the  Master. 

The  Lieutenant  of  his  battery  was  an  exceedingly  upright  and 
moral  man,  and  on  this  account  nicknamed  among  the  boys  "Abe 
Lincoln."  He  was  not  a  Christian,  though  he  had  thought  seriously 

on  the  subiect.     One  dav  Adams  went  to  him  for 

.    .  .  "Abe  Lincoln." 

permission  to  come  to  the  prayer  meeting  at  our 

rooms.  The  Lieutenant  was  struck  with  the  request,  hesitated,  and 
looked  at  Adams  for  some  time  before  granting  it.  From  that  day 
a  change  came  over  him ;  nor  did  the  impression  made  by  this 


460  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION"    INCIDENTS. 

young  soldier's  request  lose  its  hold  upon  the  officer,  until  he  became 
an  humble,  sincere  Christian. 

Rev.  R.  Brown,  a  Delegate  among  the  troops  at  Fort 
Leaven  worth,  in  the  Fall  and  early  Winter  of  1865, 
describes  an  episode  in  his  work : 

About  one  hundred  men  of  the  17th  111.  Cav.  were  confined  in  the 

Military  Prison  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  on  the  charge  of  mutiny.    On 

investigation  I  became  satisfied  that,  while  they  had  done  wrong, 

there  were  many  palliating  circumstances.    They  cer- 

Work  on  be-       t  inl     needed     u  th    h  j  could   render.     Many 

half  of  Military 
Prisoners  °    "iem  were  without  shoes,  shirts  or  stockings ;  some 

were  very  sick,  and  all  sad  and  anxious.  I  interested 
myself  earnestly  for  their  release,  and  at  last,  through  Gov.  Oglesby 
of  Illinois,  an  order  was  procured  from  the  War  Department,  send 
ing  them  to  Springfield  before  their  discharge. 

Visiting  them  again,  just  as  they  were  preparing  to  obey  this  order, 
I  held  a  parting  meeting.  Never  did  praise  and  prayer  seem  so  de 
lightful  ;  never  was  temple  of  worship  more  truly  filled  with  the 
Divine  presence  than  was  that  forlorn  prison-house. 

A  lady  from  the  East,  of  fashion  and  culture,  reluctantly  accom 
panied  us  to  our  last  prison  meeting  with  them.  A  box — the  only 
movable  thing  that  would  answer  for  a  seat — was  placed  in  the 

centre  of  the  cell  for  her.     She  wept  as  she  saw  the 
Life  Becomes  .      ,       ,  „  .  . 

P    ,  gratitude  glowing  in  every  face,  and  evident  in  every 

pressure  of  the  hand  and  utterance  of  the  lips.  She 
was  a  church  member,  but  this  scene  of  praise  and  prayer  gave  her  an 
entirely  new  view  of  life.  She  was  silent  afterwards  about  the  meet 
ing  ;  before  her  return  to  the  East  I  asked  the  reason : 

"  When  I  think  of  my  reluctance  to  accompany  you,  and  then  of 
the  evident  presence  of  God  in  that  meeting,  I  begin  to  fear  my  own 
hope  is  false,  and  my  religion  an  empty  form." 

It  was  the  occasion  of  a  new  consecration,  and  a  determination  to 
do  some  of  Christ's  work  among  the  poor. 

Intercourse  between  the  citizens  of  Leavenworth  and  the  impris 
oned  soldiers  had  been  quite  frequent.  In  the  opinion  of  many,  the 
wonderful  revival  which  visited  the  city  soon  after,  and  which  re- 


ST.    LOUIS.  461 

suited  in  adding  one-third  of  their  present  strength 

The  Germ,  of 
to  the  Protestant  churches,  was  due  in  no  small      a 


measure  to  the  quickening  granted  to  many  during 

their  visits  to  the  Commission  meetings  in  the  prison  and  elsewhere. 

Two  sketches  of  St.  Louis  hospital  work  may  close 
this  part  of  our  record.  Miss  McBeth  furnishes  the 
first  : 

"  Why,  who  is  this  ?     How  did  you  get  here,  little  brother  ?" 

1  had  slipped  into  the  wards  after  the  lamps  were  lighted,  to  see 
some  of  the  new  patients  who  had  reached  us  from  the  South  that 
day,  and  just  as  I  opened  the  door  my  eye  fell  on  the 
strangest  sight.   The  bed  nearest  me  had  been  newly 
filled   with  straw,  and  upon  the  top  of  it,  his  little  limbs  scarcely 
reaching  more  than    half  its  length,  lay  the  oddest,  oldest-looking 
boy,  with  a  pair  of  bright,  black  eyes,  looking  at  me  out  of  a  little, 
thin,  withered  face: 

"  I  came  up  on  the  boat.  I  belong  to  the  -  Regiment"  —  I  have 
forgotten  the  number  ;  would  the  face  were  as  easily  forgotten  ! 

"A  drummer-boy?" 

"  No  ;  a  soldier  !"  and  what  pride  there  was  in  that  shrill,  childish 
voice,  as  he  called  over  the  names  of  the  battles  he  had  fought. 

He  was  a  waif  from  one  of  our  great  cities,  such  as  only  cities 
nourish.  He  had  never  known  either  parents  or  home,  but  "just 
growed,"  Topsy-like,  and  struggled  up  and  out  into  the  world  the 
best  way  he  could,  until  a  recruiting  officer,  seeking  one  more  name 
to  complete  his  number,  added  this,  and  the  boy  was  a  soldier. 

"  Have  you  seen  '  our  baby'  yet  ?"  asked  a  nurse,  as  I  came  out  of 
the  ward  that  night,  —  so  all  had  christened  him  from  the  first.  I 
never  knew  another  name  for  him.  They  moved  him  to  a  cot  near 
the  stove  $  attendants  and  convalescents  petted  and  nursed  him,  and 
for  a  time  he  grew  better  under  their  care.  Our  hospitals  were  very 
full  at  that  time,  and  death  was  busy  in  every  ward.  I  spent  my 
strength  with  those  I  knew  must  soon  die,  and  gave  "  our  baby"  only 
a  few  passing  words,  waiting  until  I  could  have  more  time  with  him. 
He  was  getting  much  better,  I  thought,  and  needed  careful  instruc 
tion.  He  could  neither  read  nor  write  ;  knew  little  more  of  God 


462  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

than  a  heathen  child ;  had  scarcely  heard  Christ's  name,  save  as  an 
oath.  I  must  begin  with  the  very  rudiments  of  the  Gospel.  And  so  I 
waited  for  a  more  convenient  season,  giving  him  my  brightest-covered 
little  tracts,  for  his  comrades  to  read  to  him,  and  resting  myself 
when  I  came  home  at  night  by  putting  all  the  old  engravings  I  could 
find  into  picture-books  for  his  amusement.  At  last  a  day  came  when 
I  thought  I  could  give  him  an  hour ;  but  when  I  stood  beside  his  cot 
he  had  gone  beyond  my  reach  !  I  thought  at  first  he  was  asleep — 
but  no,  he  was  dying !  I  bent  close  to  his  ear  and  tried  to  make  him 
hear  me,  but  not  a  muscle  of  that  still  face  moved.  Light,  or  sound, 
of  earth  could  reach  him  no  more  for  ever. 

Rev.  E.  P.  Smith,  during  a  brief  visit  to  St.  Louis, 
was  invited  by  Miss  McBeth  to  see  a  Michigan  soldier 
in  Jefferson  Barracks,  in  whose  case  she  felt  a  peculiar 
interest : 

I  saw  at  a  glance  that  he  had  not  long  to  live.  In  his  pale,  thin 
face,  flushed  with  the  last  sign  of  flickering  life,  there  was  a  beseech 
ing — a  piteous  longing,  such  as  in  all  my  hospital  experience  I  had 

rarely  seen.    At  first  he  gave  rne  little  heed,  but  as  I 
Christ  Rejected       .    .  ,      .      .       ,       _  .  .    , 

,     ,    j    '   .  laid  the  back  01  my  hand  upon  his  burning  cheek, 

and  stroked  the  hair  from  his  forehead,  he  turned 
his  eyes  full  upon  me,  in  a  look  that  spoke  things  unutterable : 

"  How  are  you  to-day,  my  soldier  friend  ?" 

"  Poorly,  sir  ;  very  poorly  ;  a  few  days  more — only  a  few." 

"  You  are  all  ready,  I  trust  ?" 

"  I  am  going — there  is  no  help  for  it ;  if  you  call  that  '  ready/  I 
am  ready." 

"  But  I  mean,  are  you  prepared  to  die  ?  Is  this  exchange  of  worlds 
going  to  be  pleasant  to  you  ?" 

"  Pleasant !  It  is  awful,  sir ;  horrible  beyond  all  account !  But  I 
have  got  to  come  to  it!" 

"  No,  my  brother,  there  is  no  such  '  got  to'  about  it.  You  are  in 
this  world  yet,  and  it  is  a  world  of  mercy.  This  is  the  world  where 
Christ  died.  Let  me  tell  you  what  He  says  :  '  Whoso  cometh  unto 
Me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.' " 

"  I  know  it,  I  know  it  all ;  I  have  heard  it  a  thousand  times." 


"I   CANNOT  COME   NOW— I    WILL   NOT"  Pjge  463. 


ST.  LOUIS.  463 

"Well,  isn't  it  true?" 

"  It  may  be — but  not  for  me,  now." 

"  But  He  says,  *  If  you  will  come  to  him;'  He  does  not  say,  'If  you 
had  come,'  or,  '  If  you  would  have  come,'  but  '  if  you  will  come' — 
'  whoso  cometh' — comes  to-day — '  He  will  not  cast  out.'  It's  a  great 
pity  you  haven't  come  already,  but — 

"  Pity !  It's  my  ruin,  sir.  I  cannot  come  now — I  will  not.  See 
there,  stranger,  do  you  think  I  am  going  to  give  that  withered,  dried- 
up  hand  to  God,  after  I  have  given  all  its  strength  to  the  devil  ?  Do 
you  think  I'm  going  to  drink  the  devil's  wine  all  my  life  up  to  this 
last  day  in  hospital,  and  then  offer  the  settlings  to  Jesus?" 

"  It  was  wrong,  it  was  mean  for  you  to  refuse  the  best  to  your  God, 
but  see  what  you  are  doing  now.  Jesus  has  followed  you  all  through, 
and  to-day  asks  for  this  remnant  of  your  life,  '  these  settlings,'  as  you 
call  it.  He  really  desires  your  affection  and  trust  in  Him  for  the 
little  while  you  will  lie  on  this  bed." 

"Is  it  honorable  or  decent  to  give  it  now?" 

"  If  He  can  ask  it,  is  it  honorable  or  decent  -for  you  to  refuse  it 
now  ?  You  have  refused  everything ;  Jesus  makes  a  last  request ; 
will  you  refuse  that?" 

"  I  see  it — that's  so, — but — I  am  afraid  I  shall.  You  come  a  little 
too  late ! ,  It's  getting  dark  now." 

I  prayed  at  his  bedside,  but  he  was  only  partially  conscious.  As  I 
sat  watching  him,  he  said  in  a  whisper,  scarcely  audible — 

"  If  I  could  get  back  again — back  again — " 

Supposing  he  was  thinking  of  his  friends,  I  asked  about  his  home 
in  Michigan ;  rousing  slightly,  and  with  a  shake  of  his  head,  he 
said — 

"  No,  no — a  boy  again — a  boy  again — " 

Thinking  that  he  might  have  fallen  into  a  sleep  from  exhaustion, 
I  left  him  for  a  while.  But  it  was  the  sleep  of  death.  The  consist 
ency  of  sin  held  him  straight  through  his  course.  He  could  not 
break  it.  He  must  begin  anew,  if  at  all,  he  thought,  with  the  begin 
ning  of  life ;  but,  alas !  for  the  boyhood  with  its  thousand  invitings 
it  came  back  no  more ! 

The  work  under  charge  of  the  Western  Army  Com 
mittees  did  not  close  as  soon  as  did  the  field  labors  in 


464  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

the  East.  The  St.  Louis  Branch  kept  open  its  office  at 
Memphis  until  October,  1865 ;  and  work  upon  the 
Plains,  directed  from  Fort  Leavenworth  by  Rev.  W.  J. 
Glad  win,  as  Field  Agent,  was  continued  into  1866. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

ALONG  THE  COAST. 
1861—1865. 

THE  New  York  Branch  of  the  Commission  on  its  or 
ganization  took  the  charge  of  the  work  among  sailors 
and  soldiers  operating  along  our  extended  coast  line 
from  Virginia  to  Texas.  It  was  a  quieter  service  than 
was  found  elsewhere  in  any  field  of  the  war.  On  account 
of  the  distance  from  New  York,  Delegates  were  chosen 
for  longer  periods  of  labor.  So  much,  however,  which 
was  common  in  all  army  experience,  has  been  anticipated 
in  the  notice  of  other  fields,  that  we  shall  not  repeat 
ourselves  by  attempting  to  give  even  a  representative 
series  of  incidents  of  this  coast  work.  We  begin  our 
record  on  the  seaboard  of  North  Carolina. 

Rev.  Dr.  A.  L.  Stone,  who  was  for  a  time  Chaplain 
of  the  45th  Mass.  Regt.,  in  a  letter  from  Newbern,  N. 
C.,  to  the  people  of  Park  Street  Church,  Boston,  his 
parish  at  home,  gives  a  narrative  of  the  illness  and 
death  of  a  soldier  of  his  regiment,  a  younger  brother  of 
the  Rev.  Phillips  Brooks  of  Philadelphia : 

George  Brooks,  one  of  our  own  Boston  boys,  a  member  of  Co.  A, 
recruited  by  Captain  Russell  Sturgis  (now  our  Major),  was  taken  ill 
of  typhoid  fever  about  a  week  ago.  From  the  first,  he  expressed  his 

30  465 


466  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

entire  resignation  to  the  Divine  will,  and  enjoyed 
The  Three  Pe- 

the  constant  presence  01  Jesus  at  his  side.     When  I 


asked  him  daily,  "Is  your  Saviour  near  you  to-day?" 
the  look  upon  his  face  had  a  radiant  answer  before  his  lips  could 
speak,  and  through  his  sickness  that  faithful  Presence  sustained 
and  cheered  him.  He  was  never  dejected,  never  murmured.  He 
would  say  but  little,  as  his  lungs  seemed  congested  ;  but  by  gasps 
and  whispers,  one  day  he  told  me  —  holding  my  face  close  to  his,  so 
that  he  could  make  me  hear  his  lowest  words  —  that  he  had  never  had 
a  full  assurance  of  his  pardon  and  acceptance  until  he  became  a 
soldier.  He  said  that  in  the  battle  of  Kingston,  under  that  terrible 
fire  of  the  enemy,  "His  Saviour  came  to  him  as  never  before,  declared 
His  presence,  revealed  His  love,  and  '  held  his  soul  in  His  hand.'  " 

As  the  hour  of  death  drew  on,  he  seemed  to  have  three  burdens  of 
prayer  ;  the  first  was  quickly  disposed  of  —  he  prayed  aloud  : 

"O  Lord,  keep  me,  hold  me  fast,  leave  me  not,  let  me  not  go!"  and 
then  all  thought  of  himself  seemed  to  be  at  an  end. 

Shortly  after  his  lips  moved  audibly,  and  his  second  burden  was 
laid  down  at  the  Divine  feet  : 

"  My  God,  spare  my  country  —  oh  !  save  my  dear  native  land  !" 

After  a  few  moments  of  silence,  the  voice  of  prayer  was  again 
heard,  —  the  last  earthly  articulation  of  his  tongue.  The  words  were 
those  of  the  old  familiar  petition  — 

"  Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done,  on  earth  as  it  is  in 
heaven." 

His  own  soul,  his  country,  the  Israel  of  God  —  these  three  interests 
he  thus  commended  in  last  utterances  to  the  faithful  Promiser.  How 
could  a  Christian  life  close  more  appropriately,  more  triumphantly  ? 

The  following  incident  of  the  siege  of  Washington, 
N.  C.,  by  the  Rebels  in  March  and  April,  1863,  related 
by  a  soldier  of  Co.  G,  46th  Mass.  Regt.,  is  a  beautiful 
instance  of  heroic  self-sacrifice  and  courage  : 

A  brave  band  of  soldiers  were  set  for  the  defence  of  Rodman's 
Point.  The  enemy,  ten  to  one,  pressed  heavily  upon  them  to  drive 
them  from  the  Point  or  destroy  them.  Overpowered,  they  fell  back 


WASHINGTON,    N.  C.  467 

to  the  Tar  river,  where  only  a  scow  remained   in 

which   they  could  embark.     They  hurried  into  her.  ^W     ^ 

Others       might 
The  balls  came  thick  and  fast  from  the  Rebels  close 


upon  their  heels.  The  boat  had  to  be  pushed  from 
shore  with  poles.  But  alas  !  when  she  was  loaded,  she  stuck  fast  in 
the  mud.  The  sides  afforded  some  shelter  to  the  soldiers  while  they 
remained  lying  ;  but  who  would  leap  overboard  and  push  her  out 
into  the  stream  ?  Who  would  deliberately  lay  down  his  life  for  the 
possible  salvation  of  his  fellows  ?  When  several  soldiers  were  about 
to  do  it,  a  large  negro  said  — 

"  You  keep  still  and  save  your  life.  I  can't  fight.  I  can  push  off 
the  boat.  If  they  kill  me  it's  nothing.  You  are  soldiers,  and  they 
need  you  to  fight." 

Leaping  overboard,  he  pushed  the  boat  out  into  the  stream,  then 
sprang  back,  pierced  by  seven  bullets.  He  died  in  two  days.  Does 
Greece  or  Rome  offer  a  higher  patriotism  ? 

Rev.  A.  P.  Johnson,1  a  Delegate  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Hilton  Head,  S.  C.,  in  1863,  recalls  several  incidents 
of  his  experience  : 

On  board  one  of  the  gunboats,  I  found  a  number  of  very  sick  men. 
T  gave  such  stores  as  were  needed  to  make  them  comfortable,  and 
talked  and  prayed  with  them.  One  of  them,  evidently  a  foreigner, 
interested  me  exceedingly.  I  asked  him  — 

"Are  you  a  Christian?"  Waiting     to 

Join  in  the  One 
"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  but  there  are  few  Christians  in      New  s 

my  country." 

"  What  country  is  that  ?" 

"  Turkey." 

I  asked  him  how  he  became  a  Christian  there  ;  his  answer  was  a 
very  interesting  story  of  the  missionary  labors  of  Rev.  Dr.  Dwight. 
Here,  far  from  home  and  kindred,  he  had  been  fighting  for  the  land 
of  his  adoption,  and  was  now  dying  in  perfect  peace,  waiting  for  the 
fulfillment  of  St.  John's  vision  of  the  one  song  in  one  language  : 

"After  this  I  beheld,  and  lo,  a  great  multitude,  which  no  man 


Pastor  of  First  Congregational  Church,  Charlemont,  Mass. 


468  CHEISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

could  number,  of  all  nations  and  kindreds  and  people  and  tongues, 
stood  before  the  Throne  and  before  the  Lamb,  clothed  with  white 
robes,  and  palms  in  their  hands;  and  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  saying, 
Salvation  to  our  God  which  sitteth  upon  the  Throne,  and  unto  the 
Lamb." 

There  were  large  numbers  of  colored  people  at  Hilton  Head,  and 
I  had  interesting  intercourse  with  them.  One  day  a  number  of  chil 
dren  came  asking  for  books.  One  wanted  a  Testament.  He  was  a 

"  darkey"  pure  and  simple,  as  bright  in  mind  as 
Washed  White       were  ^  teeth  and  eyeg<    Hig  Qn|     name  wag  mytj10. 
in  the  Blood  of  ,  , 

the  Lamb  logical — Neptune,  or  as  he  gave  it  to  me — 

"Nep;  on'y  leben  yeahs  old,  sah." 

He  could  read  well.  I  asked  him  what  he  wanted  with  the  Testa 
ment  : 

"T  learn  'bout  heben." 

"  Why  learn  about  heaven  ?" 

"  So  I  kin  go  dar  when  I  die." 

"  Why  do  you  suppose  you  can  go  to  heaven  ?  You  are  only  a 
'  little  nigger.'  You  don't  imagine  there  are  any  '  niggers'  there." 

"Yes,  massa." 

"  But,  you  see,  white  children  go  there ;  and  you  don't  love  each 
other  much, — can't  play  together.  How  can  you  get  along  together 
in  heaven  ?" 

"  Dunno,  massa ;  but  I  'specs  dey  will." 

I  kept  on  raising  objections,  until  finally  I  asked — 

"  Now,  do  you  really  believe  that  there  are  any  black  children  in 
heaven  ?" 

He  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  answered — 

"  No,  massa,  I  'specs  dey  isn't." 

"Well,  then,  you  cant  go  there,  can  you?" 

"  Reckon  I  kin,  massa." 

"  But  how  can  you  go  there,  when  there  are  no  black  children 
there  ?" 

"  'Kase  dey  is  all  white." 

"But  how's  that?" 

"  Oh,  dey  is  all '  washed  white  in  de  blood  of  de  Lamb.' " 

It  was  a  "  child's"  faith,  true  to  fact,  whatever  may  be  thought  of 
its  form. 


OFF    CHARLESTON.  469 

A  correspondent  of  the  Sunday  School  Times,  writing 
from  Bentley,  N.  Y.,  in  June,  1863,  gives  an  account  of 
a  Bible-class  scholar  in  that  town,  who  enlisted  on  board 
the  gun-boat  Daylight,  one  of  the  blockading  squadron 
off  Charleston  : 

In  a  crew  of  two  hundred  men  he  found  only  one  Christian.  One 
Saturday  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  would  like  to  hold  a  prayer 
meeting  the  next  day.  His  companion  suggested  the  propriety  of 

asking;  the  Captain  about  it.     To  their  great  aston- 

A  Bible-Class 
ishment  his  reply  was- 


"Yes,  you  may  have  the  free  use  of  the  ship,  and 
I  am  proud  to  think  I  have  young  men  on  board  that  do  pray." 

The  next  day  about  ten  o'clock  he  got  his  hymn-book  and  Bible, 
and  took  charge  of  the  "  right  wing"  of  the  ship  to  begin  his  meet 
ing.  It  was  a  very  solemn  service  ;  an  invitation  was  given  to  all 
those  who  felt  their  need  of  Christ  to  express  it;  twelve  men  knelt 
and  asked  the  two  to  pray  for  them.  Several  of  these  found  the 
"  pearl  of  great  price." 

Thus  the  Bible-class  scholar  had  found  another  field  of  usefulness, 
far  away  from  his  own  loved  Sunday-school. 

Not  a  few  of  our  naval  officers  were  throughout  the 
war  constant  in  their  efforts  to  bring  the  Gospel  with  its 
holy  influences  near  to  the  sailors'  hearts.  A  corres 
pondent  writes  of  Admiral  Dupont  : 

Before  going  into  the  "  iron-clad"  fight  off  Charleston,  in  April, 
1863,  the  Admiral  had  prayers  offered  on  his  flagship,  the  New  Iron 
sides.  From  the  Admiral  down  to  the  powder-boys,  all  humbly 

knelt  and  sought  strength  for  the  coming  trial,  by 
....  ,  .  ,  ,       ~  Prayer  on  the 

joining  in  a  short,  touching  prayer  read  by  Commo-     «  New  Iron8ides» 

dore  Turner.     The  recollection  of  the  sight  of  those 
four  hundred  determined,  battle-eager  men,  bowing  in  picturesque 
groups  among  the  grim  implements  of  war,  before  their  Maker,  will 
never  be  effaced  from  my  memory. 


470  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

An  address  was  made  by  Captain  Winslow  of  the 
Kearsarge,  the  destroyer  of  the  Alabama,  before  the  Port 
Society  of  New  York,  in  December,  1864,  which  inci 
dentally  revealed  a  beautiful  Christian  influence  over 
his  men : 

He  stated  that  during  the  long  cruise  of  the  Kearsarge  only  two 

Sabbaths  had  passed  without  a  religious  service  on   board  the  ship. 

It  was  his  custom  to  have  the  bell  tolled  and  the  men  invited  to  come 

to  his  cabin,  which  was  often  filled  with  sailors  for 

Lupt.        in-      j^is  exercjse>     jn  addition  to  the  prayers,  he  corn- 
stows  Services  on 
the"Kearsarfie"       nionly   took  up   a  portion    of  Scripture,  expounded 

and  endeavored  to  illustrate  it ;  and  when  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  lands  of  Bible  history  and  prophecy,  he  would  call 
attention  to  the  fulfillment  of  God's  Word,  and  thus  set  Jack  think 
ing  upon  the  reality  of  Divine  truth. 

The  following  incident  of  the  assault  upon  Fort  Wag 
ner,  in  July,  1863,  was  related  to  the  writer  by  the  rela 
tives  of  the  soldier : 

A  colored  soldier  from  Philadelphia,  who  had  enlisted  in  Col. 
Shaw's  Massachusetts  Regiment,  was  carried  back  at  the  close  of  the 
assault  on  the  fort,  shockingly  torn  with  wounds — wounded  unto 

death.     Some  one  came  to  him,  washed  the  grimed 
The  Kingdom        „  ,    ,    ,  .  ,  .,      , 

,/  ,  TT^V/  A  iace  and  attended  him  while   he  was   unconscious. 

that  Will  Come. 

After  a  while  he  began  to  talk  as  if  he  were  in  a 
dream.  He  thought  that  his  wife  Chloe  was  near  him  and  giving 
him  all  the  kind  attentions.  He  told  Chloe  of  his  joy  and  assurance 
in  the  approaching  freedom  of  his  whole  race : 

"  De  Lor'  kep'  us  patient  long,  Chloe,  den  His  Kingdom  come." 

Recalling  perhaps  the  last  conscious  sight  of  the  repulse  and  of  his 
falling  and  flying  comrades,  he  continued — 

"  It  don't  look  es  if  He  thought  we  wus  riddy  for't  yit ;  but  den, 
Chloe,  it  am  gwine  to  come" 

He  murmured  on  for  a  while  about  Jesus  and  Chloe  and  "<ie 
chillens,"  and  then  fell  asleep. 


SOUTH    CAROLINA.  471 

In  the  New  York  Parish  Visitor  of  October,  1863, 
occurs  the  following  narrative  of  a  Delegate  on  the  South 
Carolina  coast : 

On  returning  to  quarters,  I  found  a  soldier  of  the  7th  New  Hamp 
shire  who  begged  for  some  reading.  Said  he — 

"  I  am  a  poor  sinner  and  want  something  to  guide  rne.     The  night 

of  the  assault  on  Fort  Wagner,  when  the  balls  were 

-,     .  .   ,  ,     T   ,          ,  .  A    Consecra- 

so   swift  and  thick  around,  I  heard  men   swearing       ^     ^  Battle 

dreadfully,  and  it  seemed  so  awful  that  I  could  not 
bear  it.  It  made  me  afraid,  and  I  promised  my  God  that  I  would 
swear  no  more,  but  would  serve  Him  from  that  hour ;  and  He  is  my 
witness  that  I  have  tried  faithfully ;  and  now  I  want  something  to 
read  besides  my  Testament,  to  help  me  along.  This  religion  has  a 
wonderful  effect  over  me  even  in  my  dreams.  When  I  got  into 
temptation  the  other  night  in  a  dream,  I  turned  away  from  it." 

He  spoke  with  the  deepest  emotions  of  his  early  religious  training, 
his  pious  parents  and  of  all  the  mercies  of  God.  It  seemed  in  all 
he  said  as  if  the  very  marrow  of  the  man  was  penetrated  by  this 
new  fear  of  God  and  love  of  His  Son,  which  had  come  to  him  in  the 
hour  of  peril. 

I  gave  him  the  little  book,  Come  to  Jesus,  and  turned  to  the  Soldier's 
Series,  to  find  a  tract  entitled  Past  Sins.     Holding  it  in  my  hand, 
while  we  pursued  our  conversation,  I  saw  that  the  title  caught  his 
attention.     In  a  moment  he  asked  me  for  it,  eagerly.     Mr.  B — 
said  something  to  him  about  being  a  missionary  in  camp  now. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  try  to  be.  You  may  depend  on  my  doing 
what  I  can." 

His  "  God  bless  you"  at  parting  was  fervent  and  heartfelt. 

Some  time  afterwards,  as  I  was  passing  in  a  crowd  of  men  along 
the  beach,  my  eye  was  attracted  by  the  salute  of  a  guard.  I  looked 
up  just  in  time  to  catch  the  pleasant  smile  of  my  Christian  soldier  ; 
it  told  of  a  heart  completely  happy  in  the  Saviour's  love. 

Rev.  Robert  J.  Parvin  furnishes  a  sketch  connected 
with  the  battle  of  Olustee,  Florida,  in  February,  1864 : 

The  31st  U.  S.  Colored  Regiment  was  recruited  at  Camp  William 


472  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

Perm,  not  very  far   from    St.    Paul's,    Cheltenham,  Pa,,  my   parish 
church.     Its  commander  was  Col.  Friblcy,  who  had  formerly  been  a 

Captain  in  the  8th  Pa.  Regiment,     At  the  camp  he 

The  Lesson  of 

Loss>  became  deeply  interested  in  his  own  spiritual  condi 

tion,  as  well  as  in  that  of  his  men ;  and  about  a  fort 
night  before  leaving  for  Beaufort,  he,  with  his  young  and  devoted 
wife,  was  confirmed  at  St.  Paul's  by  the  lamented  Bishop  Potter. 
Soon  after  reaching  Beaufort,  the  regiment  was  ordered  to  Florida. 
On  the  20th  of  February,  the  Colonel  was  killed  at  the  head  of  his 
men  in  the  disastrous  ambuscade  at  Olustee.  His  body  was  left 
upon  the  field. 

When  his  regiment  started  from  Camp  William  Perm,  I  gave  him 
a  Christian  Commission  Testament,  with  these  words  under  his 
name — 

"Be  thou  faithful  unto  death." 

He  carried  the  precious  volume  with  him  to  the  fatal  field. 

The  blow  was  very  severe  to  his  wife  ;  for  a  time  almost  too  great 
to  bear,  but  it  wrought  a  beautiful  purification.  After  many  un 
availing  attempts  to  recover  her  husband's  body,  she  returned  to  the 
North.  A  letter  received  from  her  shortly  afterwards  revealed  her 
feelings : 

"  I  have  been  ill  both  in  body  and  mind ;  and  could  do  nothing, 
think  of  nothing,  but  this  great  grief  that  has  darkened  my  whole 
life.  God  alone  knows  how  much  I  have  suffered ;  and  I  fear  I  have 
rebelled  against  Him,  for  my  heart  constantly  questions  why  it  must 
be  so, — why  my  dear  husband,  so  good,  so  noble,  so  brave,  must  lay 
down  his  life  in  the  bright  promise  of  his  youth,  with  the  great  work 
in  which  he  was  so  earnestly  engaged  but  just  begun.  My  happiness 
was  so  bound  up  in  him — my  life  so  complete  in  his  love — and  now, 
what  is  it  ? — a  blank,  a  wreck. 

"  Yes,  often  do  I  think,  and  my  heart  softens  with  the  thought,  of 
that  Sunday  morning  in  December,  when  together  we  knelt  in  your 
little  church,  and  made  an  open  profession  of  our  faith  in  Christ. 
My  dear  husband  was  led  there  by  a  deep  sense  of  his  duty  and  love 
to  God  ;  I,  I  fear,  from  my  love  and  duty  to  him.  I  hesitated  long, 
for  I  feared  my  heart  was  not  right,  but  I  knew  that  he  desired  so 
much  that  I  should  unite  with  him,  and  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  do  so, — 
and  with  him  to  lead  and  advise  me,  to  assist  and  encourage  me,  I 


GALVESTON.  473 

hoped  to  be  able  to  live  a  Christian  life.  But  now  my  pillar  of 
strength  is  gone,  and  I  am  left  alone  in  darkness. 

"  There  are  many  beautiful  things  in  my  husband's  past  life  that 
I  should  love  to  tell  you,  but  I  cannot  now ; — only  this,  that  the  last 
\vords  I  heard  from  his  lips  were  those  of  prayer.  He  left  me  in  the 
night.  The  Adjutant  came  for  him  in  great  haste,  as  the  ship  was 
then  weighing  anchor ;  but  even  then  he  did  not  forget  to  pray  for 
us  before  we  parted.  And  thus  he  ever  did  in  our  many  meetings 
and  partings ;  prayer  was  always  his  first  and  last  thought." 

After  recovering  from  the  first  sadness  of  her  loss,  Mrs.  Fribley 
resolved  to  devote  her  strength  to  care  for  the  race  in  whose  behalf 
her  husband  had  been  so  especially  interested.  For  a  time  her  home 
was  the  Christian  Commission  headquarters  in  Memphis,  where  she 
was  a  teacher  under  the  direction  of  the  Freedmen's  Bureau.  She 
was  one  of  the  earliest  of  these,  and  still  continues  in  the  work  which 
is  alike  a  memorial  labor  and  a  joy. 

A  story  of  the  battle  of  Galveston,  on  January  1st, 
1863,  which  is  a  good  example  of  the  bravery  and  de 
termination  of  our  sailors,  is  preserved  by  the  New 
Orleans  correspondent  of  the  Boston  Traveller : 

William  Reid,  an  old  sailor  and  man-of-war's  man,  who  was  on 
board  the  Owasco,  was  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  fight.  During  the 
hottest  moments  of  the  battle  between  his  ship  and  the  Rebel  batter 
ies,  this  man,  who  is  forty-eight  years  of  age,  received 

,      .  .,     .      ^  /?  i      j-         i  •      -n  A  Sailor  Hero. 

a  severe  wound  while  in  the  act  ot  loading  his  rme. 

Two  fingers  of  his  left  hand  were  shot  away,  and  the  Surgeon  or 
dered  him  below ;  but  he  refused  to  go,  and  tying  his  handkerchief 
around  his  fingers,  remained  on  deck  and  did  good  execution  with 
his  rifle.  Thirty  minutes  later,  another  shot  struck  him  on  the  right 
shoulder ;  the  blood  came  out  through  his  shirt.  Master's  Mate  Ar- 
bana  then  ordered  him  below  to  the  Surgeon.  The  brave  old  fellow 
said — 

"  No,  sir ;  as  long  as  there's  any  fighting  to  be  done,  I  stay  on 
deck." 

When  the  engagement  was  over,  he  had  his  wounds  dressed.  He  is 
still  on  board  the  Owasco,  and  whenever  they  beat  to  general  quarters, 


174  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS, 

William  Reid  stands  at  his  post,  ready  for  orders.  He  was  told  one 
day  by  the  Captain  to  go  below,  as  he  was  on  the  sick  list,  and  his 
place  was  the  hospital.  Displeased  with  the  remark,  he  replied — 

"  No,  Captain,  my  eyes  are  good,  and  I  can  pull  a  lockstring  as 
well  as  any  on  'em." 

Rev.  Jeremiah  Porter  and  wife  were  appointed  by  the 
Commission  in  the  Fall  of  1805,  to  labor  among  the 
troops  in  Texas.  Extracts  from  Mr.  Porter's  narrative 
of  that  work — the  last  field-work  of  the  Commission, 
which  continued  into  the  first  months  of  1866,  may  fitly 
close  the  coast  record  of  incidents : 

Mrs.  Porter,  just  before  we  started  from  Chicago,  informed  Mr.  E. 
W.  Blatchford,  Treasurer  of  the  N.  W.  Sanitary  Commission,  of  our 
destination.  "With  accustomed  liberality  he  placed  at  our  disposal 
four  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  choicest  supplies. 
B  77  With  these  we  started  on  October  20th,  accompanied 

by  Miss  Lizzie  S.  Gary,  of  Galesburg,  111.  A  month 
later,  in  attempting  to  go  from  Brazos  Santiago  to  Brownsville,  our 
operating  point,  a  terrific  "  Norther"  so  crippled  the  steamer  and 
exhausted  all  our  fuel,  that,  unable  to  cross  the  bar,  the  commander 
ran  the  boat  ashore  on  the  beach  near  Bagdad  in  Mexico.  In  the 
yawl  we  went  as  near  terra  firma  as  we  could,  and  were  at  last  carried 
safely  ashore  in  the  sailors'  arms. 

On  the  beach  we  unexpectedly  and  joyfully  met  Mr.  William 
Kirkby,1  another  Christian  Commission  Agent,  who  had  that  morn 
ing  ridden  from  Brazos  to  learn  our  fortunes  in  the  storm.  The 
next  morning,  Sunday,  after  witnessing  the  genuflexions  of  Maximil 
ian's  soldiers  at  the  mass,  I  crossed  over  into  Texas  and,  finding 
some  colored  soldiers  assembled  for  worship,  joined  them.  A  later 
appointment  to  preach  filled  up  the  day.  Mr.  Kirkby  had  happily 
prepared  the  way  for  us  at  Brownsville,  and  we  were  most  cordially 
welcomed  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edward  Downey,  "  faithful  among  the 
faithless"  during  the  rebellion,  Rev.  Hugh  McLeod,  and  Mr.  Jas.  A. 
Martin.1 


Of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


BROWNSVILLE.  475 

Our  stores  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Town  for  Indianola. 
and  of  Mr.  Martin  for  Brownsville  and  the  Upper  Rio  Grande.  Rev. 
Mr.  McLeod  was  laboring  with  a  brigade  of  white  soldiers,  three 

miles  from  town.  In  his  Commission  tent  he  preached 

The  Laborers 
every  Sabbath,  with  help  from  myself  and   others.      and  th&ir  Work 

Mrs.  Porter  and  Miss  Gary  took  up  their  abode  in  a 
tent  pitched  for  us  at  Orange  Grove  Hospital.     Here  Mrs.  Porter 
distributed  her  stores,  and  Miss  Gary  taught  the  colored  soldiers  in  a 
tent  prepared  for  a  dining-hall  and  place  of  worship. 

On  the  night  of  Nov.  29th  we  had  our  first  social  meeting  in  the 
Commission  Rooms  in  town.  Thirty-five  attended,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  was  evidently  present.  Prof.  Shephard,  of  Yale  College,  re 
turning  fjpm  a  geological  expedition  to  the  Mexican  mines,  with  Mr. 
Lyon,  an  American  merchant  of  Monterey,  encouraged  us  by  their 
presence  and  remarks.  Three  Christian  army  officers  spoke,  and 
prayers  were  asked  for  many. 

Among  the  colored  soldiers,  we  found  many  strange  notions  and 
perverted,  physical  ways  of  looking  at  spiritual  realities,  which  did 
not  however  prevent  a  precious  and  beautiful  simplicity  of  trust  in 

Christ.      A  soldier   named   Emanuel   Rickets   had 

Wanting  to  Go. 
entered  the  army  in  JNew   York,  about  ten  months 

before.  He  told  me  his  history,  when  I  met  him  first,  and  spoke 
with  confidence  of  his  knowledge  of  Christ  as  the  Saviour ;  with  this 
he  could  compare  no  earthly  pleasures  or  hopes.  The  next  time,  I 
passed  his  cot,  I  found  him  sinking  rapidly.  Thinking  an  orange 
would  comfort  him,  I  gave  him  one.  He  was  engaged  in  earnest 
prayer  as  I  offered  it  to  him : 

"  Do  take  me  to  Thyself,  dear  Father ;  I  want  to  go." 

After  prayer  he  exclaimed — 

"  I  see  my  Father ;  I  see  Him.  Don't  you  see  Him  ?  Around  Him 
they  are  singing  and  dancing.  Why  shouldn't  they  dance?  Well, 
I'll  dance  soon." 

He  tried  to  thank  me  for  the  orange,  but  could  do  it  only  with  the 
simple  words — 

"  My  Father  has  oranges  enough." 

"  Tell  my  mother,"  said  he,  as  I  went  away,  "  I  die  happy ;  I 
didn't  want  to  stay  here ;  it  ai'n't  a  good  place." 

Soon  after  the  first  of  the  new  year  he  went  home. 


476  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

We  were  grieved  to  find  in  Brownsville  no  Protestant  school  of 
any  kind,  and  planned  one  for  our  soldiers  and  the  Southern  chil 
dren  of  the  town.     Aided  by  Government  officers,  a  building  was  se 
cured  and  seated  as  a  school.     On  the  1st  of  March, 

A    Protestant       186g    we   took  egsion   of  the   geminary   for   our 

school  in  Browns-  J 

mile.  own  duelling. 

Our  school  began  with  six  scholars,  all  from  one 
family.  But  in  a  few  days  some  Mexican  children  came  in,  and 
prejudice  began  to  give  way.  One  anxious  father  asked  Mrs. 
Porter — 

"  Do  you  teach  any  '  religion'  here  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  was  the  answer ;  "  we  teach  the  children  to  love  one 
another,  to  love  and  obey  their  parents,  to  be  kind  and  gentle,  to  obey 
God,  and  to  love  the  Lord  Jesus ;  and  we  teach  the  ten  command 
ments." 

"  Oh,  that's  good,"  said  he,  considerably  relieved. 

At  the  end  of  four  months,  the  ladies  had  sixty  scholars,  more 
than  half  of  them  from  Spanish  Catholic  families.  In  April  the 
Commission  closed  its  work,  and  all  its  Delegates  and  Agents,  except 
ourselves,  left  the  field.  In  the  middle  of  June,  our  work  accom 
plished,  we  left  Brownsville,  the  last  Commission  Delegates. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE  HOME  SIDE. 

BEAUTIFUL  and  wonderful  as  were  the  sacrifice  and 
Christian  experience  which  the  workers  of  the  Com 
mission  beheld  in  hospital,  in  camp,  on  the  march  and 
on  the  field,  in  many  a  saddened,  anxious,  loyal  home 
other  sacrifices  were  made  and  other  experiences  per 
fected.  There  were  poor  men  and  women  whose  mites 
swelled  the  millions  which  the  nation  gave  ;  there  were 
mothers  and  children  who  could  not  be  denied  the  privi 
lege  of  foregoing  many  luxuries  and  comforts,  that  the 
boys  at  the  war  might  be  helped  and  cheered.  The 
purpose  of  this  chapter  is  to  preserve  a  few  of  the  many 
incidents  of  the  home  side  of  the  war. 

Mr.  Charles  Demond,  whose  long  charge  of  Com 
mission  work  in  New  England  brought  him  closely  in 
contact  with  those  who  prayed  and  gave,  furnishes  the 
following  : 

At  a  meeting  in  a  small  town  in  New  Hampshire,  Prof.  E.  T. 
Quimby,  of  Dartmouth  College,  who  had  been  a  Delegate  in  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland,  told  his  experience.  When  the  boxes 
were  passed,  an  old  man  of  eighty  put  in  a  small, 


red  cotton    handkerchief.     The   collector,   thinking          Capt^n,  Wes- 

tons     Handker- 
hc  had  made  a  mistake,  was  about  to  return  it,  but      c^.  * 

the  old  man  made  a  sign  to  have  it  retained.     When 

the  meeting  was  over  the  clergyman  of  the  place  said  to  the  speaker  — 

477 


478  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

"  Captain  Western  has  given  to  you  the  last  thing  owned  by  him 
which  he  could  give.  A  few  years  ago,  the  only  one  of  his  sons  who 
could  aid  him  came  home  to  take  charge  of  the  aged  parents,  and 
they  looked  to  him  for  support  in  their  declining  years.  When  the 
war  came  the  son  felt  it  his  duty  to  enlist.  He  went  with  his  father's 
blessing,  and  he  now  fills  a  soldier's  grave  in  the  South.  Since  his 
fall  the  old  man  has  supported  himself  and  his  aged  wife  by  his  own 
labor.  He  is  utterly  penniless.  He  recently  told  me  that  he  would 
be  glad  to  do  something  for  benevolence,  but  'for  six  months,'  said 
he,  '  I  have  had  but  three  cents  of  my  own.'" 

Rev.  E.  G.  Parsons,  of  Derry,  N.  H.,  had  been  a  Delegate  in  the 
Potomac  Army.  Under  date  of  July  28th,  1864,  he  wrote  me  : 

"  I  told  my  little  story  to  my  congregation  last  Sunday  afternoon, 

and  took  up  a  collection.     A  silver  dollar  was  sent 
"Moth&r  Would 

Have  Given  it"       m  a"erwards  "7  a  g°°d  lady,  who  has  a  son  in   the 
Union  Army.     With  it  came  this  message  : 

" '  My  mother,  dying  twenty  years  ago,  gave  me  this  dollar,  which 
I  have  sacredly  cherished ;  that  mother,  if  now  living,  would  have 
five  grandsons  in  the  army.  One  has  fallen  upon  the  battle-field  and 
another  has  barely  escaped  death  of  malignant  disease,  and  I  think 
she  would  have  given  this  dollar  for  the  soldiers.' 

"  Acting  up  to  her  convictions  of  her  mother's  washes,  she  sends 
the  precious  coin  to  your  treasury." 

One  of  the  most  touchingly  suggestive  incidents  I  remember  was 
that  of  a  widow,  who  sent  me  her  wedding-ring.  She  first  gave  her 
only  son  to  die  for  the  country,  and  then  withheld  not  this  dear  pledge 

of  love,  made  sacred  by  the  death  of  him  who  gave 
The    Widow's       .x  .  .     . 

,,.  it.     feuch  benevolence  gives  to   patriotism  a  purer 

lustre,  and  makes  even  the  smoke  and  carnage  of 
battle  radiant  with  the  reflected  brightness  of  heaven. 

Mr.  B.  F.  Jacobs,  the  Secretary  of  the  Chicago 
Branch  of  the  Commission,  tells  two  incidents  of  scenes 
in  his  collecting  tours  through  the  Northwest  : 

Speaking  at  Mineral   Point,  Wisconsin,  after  the  addresses  were 
1  over,  we  were  raising  a  contribution  and  men  were  announcing  their 
subscriptions.     A  soldier  in  the  far  gallery  rose  and  said — 


WISCONSIN.  479 


"  Maloney,  85." 

Three  or  four  gentlemen  who  stood  near  me  at 

loney   gave  Jbive 
once  remarked— 


"  He  can't  afford  to  give  a  cent.     He  ought  not  to 
do  it.     He  has  a  wife  and  four  children  and  they  are  very,  very  poor. 
He  has  hardly  been  able  to  support  them  with  his  soldier's  pay." 

At  the  close  of  the  meeting  I  asked  for  him,  and  he  came  forward 
to  the  desk  : 

"  Mr.  Maloney,  they  say  you  ought  not  to  give  $5  to  this  cause." 

"  They  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  said  he,  very  emphatically. 

"  Well,  do  you  think  you  ought  to?" 

"Let  me  tell  you,"  said  he  :  "  Seven  years  ago,  when  you  were  a 
clerk  in  Chicago,  I  used  to  buy  goods  of  you.  I  failed  in  business, 
became  dissipated  till  I  was  nothing  but  a  miserable,  drunken, 
wretched  sinner,  and  my  wife  and  children  were  well-nigh  beggars  — 
and  almost  worse  than  that,  before  I  entered  the  army.  In  Virginia 
there,  I  was  led  to  the  Christian  Commission  meetings.  I  gave  my 
heart  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  After  that  I  saved  every  dollar  of 
my  pay  to  send  home,  whereas  before  I  never  sent  a  cent.  All  that 
I  have,  and  all  that  my  family  have  for  time,  and  all  that  I  hope 
for  in  eternity,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  I  owe  to  the  Commission. 
Don't  you  think  I  ought  to  give  five  dollars  ?" 

Eai4y  in  1864,  a  Commission  meeting  was  held  in  Milwaukee. 
After  the  audience  had  retired,  I  was  told  that  a  lady  was  waiting  to 
speak  with  me.  She  was  standing  near  the  doorway,  dressed  in  deep 

mourning.     As  I  went  to  meet  her,  she  put  out  her 

-i-i  "She  was  a  Mo- 

hands  with  great  earnestness,  and  said  —  t^er  to  m    -^^  „ 

"  I  could  not  go  away  without  thanking  you  and 
telling  you  how  grateful  I  am." 

I  replied  that  she  must  be  mistaken,  as  I  did  not  remember  to  have 
met  her  before  : 

"  Oh  no  !  I'm  not  mistaken  ;  it's  no  difference  ;  any  Delegate  of 
the  Christian  Commission  would  be  the  same." 

"  What  has  the  Commission  done  for  you,  madam  ?" 

"  My  only  son  died  in  the  hospital  at  Memphis.  I  was  too  poor 
to  go  and  see  my  boy,  after  the  letter  came  telling  me  that  he  was 
sick.  But  a  lady  Delegate  of  the  Commission  visited  him  daily  in 
the  hospital,  ministered  to  his  wants,  comforted  him  in  his  loneliness, 


480  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

and  above  all  led  him  to  Jesus.  When  he  was  dead,  the  same  lady 
cut  off  a  lock  of  his  hair  and  sent  it  to  me  in  a  letter,  with  his  dying 
words.  She  was  a  mother  to  my  boy.  And  as  long  as  I  live,  while  the 
Christian  Commission  lasts,  I  want  to  pray  for  God's  blessing  upon 
all  who  love  it  and  work  for  it." 

Mr.  Jacobs  illustrates  both  the  confidence  reposed  in 
those  connected  with  the  Commission  and  the  stuff  of 
which  many  a  soldier  was  made  : 

A  man  came  into  my  office  in  Chicago,  about  the  first  of  May, 
1864.     He  was  an  Irishman.     Said  he  — 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Jacobs,  the  Secretary  of  the  Christian  Com 

mission." 
Confidence  and 

I  told  him  I  was  the  man  he  was  lookin    for  : 


"  I  have  come  to  ask  you  to  do  me  a  favor.  I've 
been  in  the  service  since  April,  1861.  I  was  rather  wild  before  that. 
After  I  enlisted  I  saw  how  men  went  straight  to  ruin,  and  I  made  up 
my  mind  I  would  try  and  save  myself  and  my  money.  I  have  laid 
by  8700.  Before  the  war  I  lived  in  Chicago,  and  at  the  expiration 
of  my  second  enlistment  I  have  returned  with  that  amount  of  money. 
I  have  bought  a  house  and  lot  on  the  west  side,  have  paid  the  8700 
down  and  given  a  mortgage  for  the  balance,  payable  after  09  year. 
I  have  re-enlisted,  and  am  going  back  to  Virginia.  I  have  no  rela 
tives  in  this  country,  except  a  brother  in  New  York,  who  is  quite 
well  off.  I  want  to  put  my  property  in  trust  with  some  one,  —  and  I 
want  you  to  take  it.  Here  are  the  papers  which  I  have  drawn  up 
myself.  I  have  been  protected  so  far,  but  I  may  fall  in  the  next 
battle  ;  so  I  have  brought  my  will  here  too.  "Will  you  take  charge 
of  the  matter  for  me  ?" 

I  told  him  I  was  a  perfect  stranger  to  him,  and  hesitated  about 
assuming  the  trust  : 

"  Who  recommended  me  to  you  ?" 

"  Nobody,"  was  his  answer  ;  "  but  I  have  been  in  the  army,  and 
have  seen  the  Delegates  of  the  Commission,  how  faithful  they  have 
been.  I  am  sure  they  won't  steal.  That's  the  reason  I  have  hunted 
you  up.  Won't  you  take  charge  of  all  this  till  I  come  back,  for  if  I 
ever  do,  I  shall  want  it  all  ?" 


ILLINOIS.  481 

I  opened  the  will  and  read  it.  In  case  of  his  death,  unmarried,  he 
had  arranged  that  his  property  should  go  to  the  Commission,  with  a 
proviso  remunerating  me  for  my  services.  This  latter  was  changed 
on  the  spot.  I  asked  him  why  he  willed  his  money  to  the  Com 
mission  : 

"  I  know  of  no  men  to  whom  I  would  so  soon  give  my  money  as 
to  the  soldiers  of  the  army ;  and  though  I  have  never  needed  the 
services  of  Commission  Chaplains  in  hospital,  yet  I  have  seen  what 
they  have  been  doing  for  others, — and  have  got  little  books  from 
them  at  times ;  and  I  know  if  I  leave  my  money  to  them  the  soldiers 
will  get  every  cent  of  it." 

I  accepted  the  trust,  and  as  the  soldier  went  away  spoke  to  him  of 
the  duty  he  owed  to  God. 

The  man  lived  to  return  from  the  war,  pay  off  the  mortgage  on 
his  house,  take  back  the  deed  and  will,  and  is  now  a  member  of  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  of  Chicago. 

Mr.  William  Reynolds,  the  President  of  the  Peoria 
Committee,  out  of  a  large  and  successful  experience 
as  a  volunteer  collector,  furnishes  the  two  narratives 
which  follow : 

Chaplain  McCabe,  of  Libby  Prison  renown,  came  to  Peoria. 
We  determined  to  canvass  Central  Illinois,  with  the  purpose  of 
raising  fifty  thousand  dollars.  Our  first  meeting  was  held  in  Gales- 
burg,  where  $1800  were  collected.  Next  followed 

Peoria  and  Bloomington,  raising  $1500  each.     We       MvrganComty 

Illinois,  and  Jacob 
then  went  to  Jacksonville,  and  held  a  meeting  at   gtrawn 

"  Strawn's  Hall,"  where  $2000  were  contributed.  I 
knew  that  Mr.  Jacob  Strawn,  the  largest  farmer  in  the  State  of 
Illinois,  was  living  two  miles  from  Jacksonville.  The  next  morning 
we  went  out  to  his  house  to  solicit  a  contribution.  He  was  absent, 
and  we  understood  that  he  was  going  to  Springfield  the  following 
day.  Meeting  him  on  the  train,  we  presented  the  cause.  He  said  he 
knew  nothing  about  the  Commission,  but  that  he  was  going  to  call  on 
Governor  Yates,  and  if  he  said  it  was  all  right,  he  would  make  a 
contribution.  He  appointed  an  hour  to  meet  us  at  the  hotel. 

We  met  him  at  the  hour  fixed ;  he  said  he  had  seen  the  Governor, 

31 


482  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

who  had  told  him  the  Commission  was  "  all  right ;  a  good  institu 
tion."  He  then  wrote  a  check  for  $500  and  handed  it  to  me, 
saying — 

"  If  you  raise  $10,000  from  the  farmers  of  Morgan  County,  I'll 
make  it  $10,000,  instead  of  $500." 

We  thought  the  sum  too  large,  especially  as  Mr.  Strawn  refused  to 
let  us  count  the  $2000  just  raised  in  Jacksonville.  Our  efforts  to 
have  the  sum  reduced  to  $5000  were  unavailing ;  there  was  no  alter 
native  but  to  work  for  the  $10,000,  trusting  in  God  to  open  up  the 
hearts  of  the  people.  Mr.  M.  P.  Ayres,  a  banker  of  Jacksonville, 
encouraged  us  to  accept  the  proposition,  promising  the  aid  of  his 
extensive  acquaintance  in  the  county,  in  appointing  meetings  and 
securing  a  full  attendance  by  the  people.  He  arranged  for  eleven 
meetings  in  various  parts  of  the  county,  in  school-houses,  small 
churches  and  groves.  We  entered  on  the  canvass,  and  within  nine 
days  held  the  eleven  meetings  and  raised  $11,400.  The  meetings 
occurred  in  July,  the  farmers'  busiest  season ;  many  of  them  coming 
from  their  fields  to  the  speaking-places,  and  immediately  after  the 
addresses  returning  to  their  work. 

When  we  came  back  to  Mr.  Strawn  with  the  proof  of  our  success 
in  hand,  he  at  once  gave  us  his  check,  with  the  single  remark — 

"  Pretty  smart  fellows  ;  didn't  think  you  would  do  it." 

After  dinner  he  took  us  to  the  top  of  his  house,  to 
,„  show  us  his  splendid  farms  lying  along  the  country 

in  every  direction  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.      I 
asked  him  how  many  acres  he  owned : 

"  Forty  thousand, — all  under  cultivation." 

"  How  much  is  the  land  worth  an  acre?" 

"  Not  less  than  $50,  sir." 

"  Then  you  are  worth  $2,000,000  ?" 

"  Yes.  I  made  it  all  myself,  too.  When  I  started  I  hadn't  fifty 
cents." 

I  turned  to  him  ;  a  look  of  pride  flushed  his  face,  while  his  eyes 
swept  the  country  in  every  direction  : 

"  Mr.  Strawn,  you  have  asked  me  to  look  north  and  south,  east 
and  west,  and  view  your  possessions ;  and  you  say  I  cannot  see  the 
end.  Now  may  I  ask  you  to  look  up  yonder.  How  much  do  you 
own  up  there  ?" 


WISCONSIN.  483 

"Ah,"  said  he,  the  tears  filling  up  his  eyes,  "  I'm  afraid  I  am  poor 
up  there." 

I  tried  to  point  him  to  the  treasures  and  the  mansions  above. 

This  was  the  largest  single  subscription  received  by  the  U.  S. 
Christian  Commission.  Mr.  Strawn  died  very  suddenly  about  one 
year  afterwards. 

I  went  to  Sparta,  a  little  town  in  Monroe  County,  Wisconsin, 
where  I  was  personally  an  entire  stranger.  It  was  shortly  after  the 
Wilderness  battles.  I  set  forth  to  the  large  crowd  of  people  who  had 

gathered,  the  objects  and  labor  of  the  Commission, 

.„.  The  Soldier's 

but  felt  somehow  that  they   might  be  unwilling  to 


credit  a  stranger's  statements  of  so  great  a  work.  I 
longed  for  a  familiar  face,  some  one  in  the  audience  to  whom  I  could 
appeal  for  endorsement  of  what  I  was  saying.  But  the  whole  com 
pany  was  strange.  While  speaking  I  noticed  a  one-armed  soldier 
sitting  immediately  in  front  of  me.  I  watched  his  face  with  great 
interest  to  see  what  impression  my  story  was  making  upon  him. 
When  I  had  concluded  and  was  about  calling  for  subscriptions,  this 
soldier  rose  and  said  — 

"  I  would  like  to  say  a  word,  citizens,  before  the  collection  is  taken 
up.  You  all  know  me,  who  I  am,  and  where  I  came  from.  I  have 
lived  here  long  in  your  neighborhood.  I  enlisted  in  the  first  regi 
ment  that  went  from  this  district.  I  fought  through  the  battles  of 
the  Wilderness  ;  near  the  close  of  one  day  I  fell  wounded.  I  dragged 
myself  into  a  bush  concealed  from  the  enemy,  and  lay  there.  Night 
came  on.  I  think  I  must  have  died  before  morning,  if  no  help  had 
come.  It  grew  very  late,  and  there  was  no  appearance  of  assistance. 
At  last  I  heard  a  sound  ;  there  might  be  help  in  the  distance.  I 
tried  to  call  out,  but  my  voice  was  too  weak  ;  it  went  but  a  short  way. 
A  light  came  near  me.  I  summoned  all  my  energies  and  raised 
my  voice  to  its  highest  pitch.  Directly  I  saw  a  lantern  approaching. 
Soon  a  man's  voice  asked  what  was  the  matter?  I  told  him  I  was 
dreadfully  wounded.  He  set  his  lantern  down  and  started  off  to  get 
assistance.  Soon  I  heard  the  roll  of  wheels  and  there  was  an  ambu 
lance  for  me.  He  put  me  in  it.  From  that  time  till  I  was  well 
enough  to  come  home  on  furlough  —  nay,  till  I  reached  Chicago  —  I 
never  was  outside  of  the  care  of  Delegates  of  the  Christian  Commis 
sion.  Citizens,  I  owe  my  life  to  them." 


484  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

The  enthusiasm  aroused  by  this  testimony  was  unbounded,  and 
found  practical  expression  in  an  excellent  collection.  From  that 
time  we  were  reminded  monthly  of  the  soldier's  testimony  by  the 
contributions  which  regularly  found  their  way  to  us  from  that  little 
town. 

The  story  of  Mrs.  Ellet  of  Philadelphia,  recalls  the 
memory  of  some  of  the  deeds  of  the  mothers  of  the 
Revolution : 

Mr.  Stuart,   the   Chairman   of  the   Commission,  with   Rev.   Dr. 

Robert  Patterson,  of  Chicago,  called  upon  her  early  in  1863.     She 

brought  out  two  valuable  and  beautiful  shawls,  the  proceeds  of  which 

she  wished  to  have  distributed   among  the  widows 

yr  j  and  orphans  of  soldiers  fallen  in  battle. 

The  dead  body  of  her  grandson  had  just  arrived, 
and  Dr.  Patterson  expressed  the  hope  that  God  would  sustain  her 
under  the  bereavement.  She  stated  that  she  had  given  her  two  sons 
— Commodore  Ellet,  of  the  Ram  Fleet,  and  Brigadier-General  Ellet, 
of  the  Marine  Brigade — and  four  grand-children;  and  then  added — 

"  I  do  not  regret  the  gift  to  my  country.  If  I  had  twenty  sons,  I 
would  give  them  all,  for  the  country  must  be  preserved.  And  if  I  was 
twenty  years  younger,  I  would  go  myself  and  fight  to  the  last." 

Few  men  in  the  country  could  so  well  appreciate  the 
motherly  sacrifice  which  was  being  made  all  over  the 
land  as  President  Lincoln.  His  letter  to  a  pious 
widow  living  in  Boston,  deserves  a  place  in  history  with 
his  speech  at  Gettysburg  and  his  second  inaugural 
address : 

EXECUTIVE  MANSION,  WASHINGTON,  Nov.  2lst,  1864. 

DEAR  MADAM  :  I  have  been  shown  in  the  files  of  the  War  De 
partment,  a  statement  of  the  Adjutant-General  of  Massachusetts  that 

you  are  the  mother  of  five  sons  who  have  died  glori- 
The     Costly  .      „  ,  ,     ,,  ,        - 

0     .„  ouslv  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Sacrifice.  J 

I  feel  how  weak  and  fruitless  must  be  any  words 
of  mine  which  should  attempt  to  beguile  you  from  the  grief  of  a 
loss  so  overwhelming ;  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  tendering  to  you 


BOSTON UTICA.  485 

the  consolation  that  may  be  found  in   the  thanks  of  the   Eepublic 
they  died  to  save. 

I  pray  that  Our  Heavenly  Father  may  assuage  the  anguish  of 
your  bereavement,  and  leave  only  the  cherished  memory  of  the 
loved  and  lost,  and  the  solemn  pride  that  must  be  yours  to  have  laid 
so  costly  a  sacrifice  upon  the  altar  of  Freedom. 

Yours,  very  sincerely  and  respectfully, 

A.  LINCOLN. 
To  Mrs.  BIXBY,  Boston,  Mass. 

To  receive  such  a  letter,  written  by  him  who  was  within  a  few 
months  to  realize  the  sacrifice  which  he  here  writes  of,  seems  almost 
a  compensation  for  the  loss. 

The  following  soldier's  letter  needs  no  introduction. 
Its  reading  moistened  every  eye  at  the  meeting  which 
organized  the  Central  New  York  Branch  of  the  Com 
mission  in  Utica.  The  father  who  penned  it  received 
his  mortal  wound  the  next  day: 

FORT  BAKER,  Oct.  2()th,  1864. 

DEAR  LOTTIE  :  I  found  a  small  white  envelope  among  the  others 
that  you  put  into  my  box  before  I  came  away  from  home,  and  I  knew 

that  Lottie  put  it  there,  because  she  wanted  me  to 

,TT  -. ,    .       ,  Father  to  Lot- 

wnte  to  her.     Well,  it  always  does  us  good  to  please 

those  that  love  us,  and  I  am  glad  to  think  that  my 
little  girl  would  be  pleased  to  have  me  write  to  her.  It  is  a  pleasant 
task  for  me,  and  the  thought  of  good,  loving  children  at  home,  who 
think  of  me  every  day,  who  for  my  sake  are  trying  to  be  good  to 
their  mother  and  make  her  happy,  is  a  source  of  comfort  and  encour 
agement  and  of  consolation  that  I  cannot  describe  with  my  pen  nor 
tell  with  my  tongue.  How  far  this  thought  goes,  or  how  much  it 
contributes  to  reconcile  me  to  the  separation  that  for  their  sakes  I 
have  voluntarily  endured,  you  can  never  realize.  I  know  that  you 
do  not  realize  that  I  am  here  because  I  love  you,  and  that  you  do 
not  appreciate  the  necessity  of  my  being  here.  But  by  and  bye,  when 
you  grow  up,  you  will  understand  things  better,  and  when  you  read 
in  history  of  this  war  and  of  its  causes  and  objects,  you  will  be  glad 
that  your  father  left  home  when  you  were  a  little  girl,  and  went 


486  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

forth  to  contend  for  the  right.  You  will  love  me  all  the  more  then, 
and  so  will  all  the  rest  of  my  children.  This  is  the  thought  that 
encourages  and  consoles  me ;  and  then,  beside  this,  the  conscious 
ness  of  none  other  than  good  and  pure  motives,  and  above  all,  the 
consolation  from  day  to  day  that  religion  affords  me,  all  contribute 
to  make  me  happy,  even  while  the  constant  longing,  lingering 
anxiety  about  my  home  and  family  keeps  them  every  moment  in  my 
thoughts. 

Try  and  be  good,  Lottie,  if  you  love  me  and  want  to  do  what  you 
can  to  make  me  happy.  Be  good  to  your  mother  and  grandmother, 
and  brothers  and  sisters.  Try  and  be  good  to  the  Lord,  and  then  you 
will  be  happy  yourself,  and  everybody  will  love  you ;  and  if  I  should 
never  see  you  again  on  earth,  we  shall  meet  in  heaven. 

I  pray  for  you  many  times  every  day,  and  I  want  you  to  pray  for 
yourself  and  me.  Try  to  learn  in  your  books  ;  go  to  school  and 
Sunday-school  always  when  you  can.  Save  this  letter  till  you  get  old. 

Tell  Harry  I  will  write  to  him  before  long,  and  Freddy  that  I  mean 
to  send  him  some  pretty  stones  I  have  picked  up  for  him.  Kiss  all 
the  family  for  me,  from  grandma  to  the  baby,  and  love  them  all. 
God  bless  you  !  FATHER. 

Occasionally  throughout  these  chapters,  the  story  of 
a  "  comfort-bag"  or  "  housewife"  has  been  inserted. 
These  were  mainly  the  gifts  of  little  children,  and  often 
contained  letters  to  soldiers,  which  in  turn  called  out 
replies  from  the  camps  and  hospitals.  Thus  sprung  up 
many  a  pleasant  and  profitable  correspondence.  Rev. 
E.  P.  Smith,  while  a  Delegate  early  in  1863,  near  Belle 
Plain,  wrote  back  to  his  Sabbath-school  at  Pepperell, 
Mass.,  concerning  these  bags : 

It  seems  that  the  Sabbath-school  children  in  Albany  united  to  send 
"  comfort-bags"  to  the  soldiers,  and  on  a  given  Sabbath  each  scholar 
brought  a  bag  to  her  class.  The  superintendents  collected  them, 

and  on  Monday,  when  they  came  to  count  them, 
in  the  ' Arm\  they  f°und  five  thousand  ready  to  go.  They  came 

in  boxes  to  the  Christian  Commission  at  Washing- 


ISTEW   YOKK.  487 

ton,  and  have  been  given  out  one  by  one  to  the  soldiers  in  this 
army.  If  you  could  see  their  faces  when  I  hand  out  a  bag  and 
say — 

"  Boys,  do  you  want  any  needles,  pins,  thread  and  buttons  ?  Some 
little  Sabbath-school  girl  made  that  for  you,  and  sent  it  to  me  to  give 
to  you." 

"  To  give  to  us?  Bully  for  you  !  A  new  kind  of  sutler,  boys!" — 
"  See  here,  Jim,  if  a  fellow  goes  ragged  after  this,  he's  a  bummer." 
(That's  a  soldier's  name  for  loafer.) — "Sabbath-school  girls,  eh? 
those  are  great  little  girls;  they  don't  forget  the  boys  gone  a-soldier- 
ing." — "  I  used  to  go  to  Sunday-school." — "That's  \vhere  I  belong." 
— "  I  have  got  a  little  girl  in  Sunday-school ;  wonder  if  she  did  not 
have  a  hand  in  one  of  these  bags." 

So  they  talk  till  I  am  out  of  sight.  Some  of  them  pull  out  the 
tract,  and  some  find  a  letter  in  the  bag  and  read  it  aloud.  The 
news  that  Vicksburg  was  taken  would  not  wake  up  a  more  lively, 
pleasant  feeling  among  the  men  than  a  quantity  of  these  bags  freely 
given. 

I  read  some  of  the  letters.  Here  is  one,  as  nearly  as  I  can 
remember  it: 

"  DEAR  SOLDIER  :  It  must  be  hard  for  you  to  keep  your  clothes 
nice,  so  far  away  that  your  mother  cannot  come  to  mend  them  ;  so  I 
send  you  this  bag  of  needles  and  thread,  and  you  can  mend  for  your 
self.  I  would  send  you  a  thimble,  but  mother  says  you  could  not 
use  it.  Now  I  hope  you  will  keep  your  clothes  very  nice,  so  that 
when  the  ragged  Rebels  see  you  they  will  be  ashamed  of  themselves. 

"  We  talk  about  you,  and  pray  about  you  in  the  Sunday-school 
concert,  and  every  night  I  pray,  '  God  bless  the  soldier !'  Good-bye, 

soldier ! 

"  From  your  young  friend, 

"  HATTIE." 

I'll  warrant  the  soldier  will  put  that  letter  in  his  Testament,  and 
if  he  lives  to  go  home,  it  will  go  with  him. 

Some  children  in  Lewistown,  Penna.,  in  February, 
1864,  sent  a  box  of  seventy-three  housewives  to  the 
army.  Each  enclosed  a  note,  with  the  little  writer's 


488  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

name  and  address.     By  and  bye  the  answers  came  back, 
and  one  who  read  them  all  writes  of  them  : 

One  of  the  letters  spoke  of  verses  contained  in  his  little  housewife; 

the  soldier  said  he  had  never  before  felt  the  great  importance  of  the 

words.     Another  -spoke  of  the  housewife's  use,  and  said  he  should 

always  carry  it  with  him,  and,  if  he  fell,  it  should  fall 

with  him.    Another  said  that  on  his  return  home,  he 
Uomjort  -  bag 

would  go  out  of  his  way  quite  a  distance  to  see  and 


thank  his  "  little  friend  Hallie."  Another  wrote 
that  he  was  in  name  a  Christian,  but  "  someway  he  did  not  get  along 
as  he  would  like,"  but  he  promised  renewed  efforts  in  "  walking  the 
narrow  way."  Another  had  made  a  profession  five  years  ago,  had 
sadly  gone  astray,  but  now  renewed  afresh  his  "covenant  with  God;" 
he  prayed  for  strength  to  endure  unto  the  end.  Another  was  one  of 
six  who,  the  Sabbath  previous,  had  been  baptized.  He  was  from 
Maine,  and  had  been  from  home  four  years.  He  could  apply  the 
beautiful  verses  contained  in  his  gift  ;  they  had  touched  a  tender 
chord  in  his  heart. 

Another  brave  fellow's  acknowledgment  runs  thus: 
"  I  have  received  your  kind  gift,  for  which  I  return  my  most  grate 
ful  thanks.  I  have  been  in  the  army  two  vears,  —  have  been  in  all 
the  battles  my  regiment  was  engaged  in,  and  have  escaped  unhurt. 
I  thank  the  Almighty.  Our  good  Chaplain  preaches  for  us  every 
evening.  When  I  first  joined  the  army  I  was  wicked  —  would  laugh 
at  good  men  —  but  I  had  no  parents  ;  —  father  and  mother  died  when 
I  was  young.  I  was  taken  by  an  uncle,  who  was  a  wicked  man,  and 
let  me  run  at  large.  I  went  to  sea  —  and  after  that  enlisted.  It  is 
the  first  time  I  have  written  a  letter  since  I  have  been  in  tJte  army,  and 
it  makes  me  feel  so  happy  to  have  a  chance  to  write  to  a  friend." 

The  charm  of  the  letters  was  given  them  by  the  child 
authors  ;  their  simple,  hearty,  confiding  words  brought 
to  the  soldier  a  vision  of  bright,  earnest  eyes  following 
little  hands  guiding  unsteady  pens  across  the  paper; 
and  with  that  vision  came  all  the  remembered  sweetness 
of  home.  Mr.  J.  N.  Stearns,  the  Editor  of  Merry's 


NEW    ENGLAND.  •   489 

Museum,  a  Delegate  at  City  Point  in  July,  1864,  trans 
cribes  two  of  these  children's  epistles : 

"BOSTON,  MASS. 

"I  am  but  a  very  little  girl,  six  years  old,  but  I  thought  I  would 
like  to  make  a  comfort-bag  for  you  as  well  as  the  big  ones. 

"  I  go  to  the  Shawmut  Infant  School.    I  know  lots  of  verses  in  God's 
Holy  Book.     I  have  got  a  mother,  but  I  have  not  a 
dear  father  living.     I  hope  he  is  living  in  heaven 

with  Jesus  Christ. 

"  TENY." 

"  NEW  IPSWICH,  N.  EL 

"  MY  DEAR  SOLDIER  :  I  wonder  whether  you  are  a  well  or  a 
wounded  soldier.  I  hope  you  are  not  sick.  I  am  a  little  boy  nine 
years  old.  I  hope  you  love  Jesus  Christ.  I  hope  you  will  love  Him, 
if  you  do  not.  I  shall  pray  for  you.  I  hope  you  will  write  me  a 

letter  if  you  have  time.     From 

"  JOHN  W.  CUMMINGS." 

The  following,  written  by  a  very  little  girl  whose 
brother  had  fallen  upon  the  field,  is  from  the  Sunday  - 
School  Times  of  Jan.  7th,  1865  : 

"  DEAR  SOLDIER  :  It  is  Sunday  afternoon,  and  I  thought  it  would 
be  so  nice  to  print  you  a  little  letter  to  put  in  the  bags  I  finished  yes 
terday.  Mamma  gives  brother  Charlie  and  me  twenty-five  cents  a 
week  each  for  giving  up  sugar,  so  we  have  earned  a  good  deal  of 
money  already  to  give  to  the  soldiers,  so  we  both  bought  some  of 
the  things  to  put  in  the  six  bags.  I  hope  you  will  take  as  much 
comfort  as  I  did  in  making  them  for  you.  I  hope  this  cruel  war  will 
soon  be  over,  and  let  you  come  home  to  your  children  and  friends. 
Won't  we  all  be  happy  then !  I  pray  God  every  day  to  bless  you 
and  bring  you  home.  I  hope  you  love  Jesus.  If  you  do  not  live  to 
get  home,  I  hope  you  will  go  home  to  Him,  where  I  hope  to  meet 
you.  Good-bye. 

"  From  your  little  friend, 

"  MINNIE  OLIVE  C." 

Rev.  Luther  Keene,  a  Delegate  during  October  and 


490  •  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

November,  1863,  gives  the  following  account  of  the  re 
ception  of  an  interesting  letter  from  a  soldier  by  two 
little  children  of  his  parish  : 

As  I  was  going  away  to  the  army,  Charlie  Huntingdon  and  Katie 

Walker  gave  me  a  little  money  for  the  soldiers.     I  bought  a  Bible 

with  it,  and  intended  to  hand  it  to  some  soldier.     But  sickness  so 

hastened  my  return,  that  I  left  it  with  Rev.  Mr.  Bow- 

„.,.    '  ler,  the  Agent  at  Washington.     The  address  of  the 

two  children  was  written  in  it,  and  this  request : 

"  Will  the  soldier  who  receives  this  book,  when  he  is  converted, 
write  a  letter  to  these  children,  telling  them  about  it?" 

In  about  six  months  after  my  return,  they  received  the  following 
reply : 

"To  Katie  Walker  and  Charlie  Huntingdon, 

North  BrooJcfield,  Mass : 

*****"  Rev.  Mr.  Bowler  gave  me  the  Bible  you  sent  to  the 
soldier.  It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  acknowledge  its  receipt.  I 
have  a  great  many  things  to  tell  you,  but  you  know  a  poor  soldier 
does  not  have  a  great  many  advantages.  If  I  had  you  here  with 
me,  wouldn't  we  have  a  nice  time  then  ?  I  would  take  you  to  see 
the  '  front,'  and  the  big  guns,  and  the  soldiers  on  dress  parade,  and 
I  would  tell  you  how  they  fight  when  they  are  in  line  of  battle.  I 
would  tell  you  about  the  fourteen  regular  engagements  I  have  been 
in,  and  how  I  was  wounded  five  times,  and  how  the  bad  Rebels  took 
me  prisoner,  and  how  they  kept  me  for  three  months  and  gave  me 
very  little  to  eat, — and  how  God  brought  me  safe  back  again.  And 
then,  I  wrould  tell  you  how  I  used  to  drink  a  great  deal,  and  what  a 
bad  man  I  once  was ;  and  now,  how  I  don't  drink  at  all,  and  how  I 
love  to  read  the  little  Bible  you  sent  me.  I  would  then  share  my 
rations  with  you,  and  give  you  a  part  of  my  bed,  and  we  would  say 
a  little  prayer  together,  and  I  would  kiss  you,  and  God  would  watch 
you  and  me,  until  we  awoke  again  to  enjoy  His  love,  His  sunlight, 
His  flowers  amid  their  vernal  bloom  and  fragrance, — and  then  we 
would  praise  Him  again. 

"  I  love  little  children,  because  I  see  God  in  their  ways.  Let  your 
little  hands  be  busy  at  all  times,  and  your  tender  hearts  bend  to  the 


MASSACHUSETTS  -  ILLINOIS.  491 

service  of  God.  Never  waste  one  moment  ;  life  is  very  short.  There 
is  a  fire-fly  in  Southern  climes,  which  shines  beautifully  when  it  is  on 
the  wing,  but  the  very  moment  it  rests  it  looks  black  and  ugly.  So 
it  is  with  us  ;  we  are  beautiful  while  we  are  working  in  the  vineyard 
of  God,  and  black  and  ugly  while  we  turn  towards  worldly  things. 

"Now  my  little  friends,  you  will  continue  to  be  good,  will  you  not? 
And  you  will  say  a  little  prayer  for  me  now  and  then,  —  asking  the 
good  God  to  forgive  me  what  I  have  done  wrong,  and  to  make  me 
good  in  the  future. 

"  I  sincerely  thank  you,  and  if  you  would  like  to  hear  from  me 
again,  it  will  be  pleasant  to  write  to  you  ;  and,  if  you  have  your  little 
pictures,  send  them  to  me.  And  now,  '  may  God  bless  you  and  keep 
your  hearts  full  of  the  Holy  Spirit/  is  the  prayer  of, 

"  Yours  very  affectionately, 
"  E.  H.  UNiAc.1 
"  Camp  Distribution,  Va., 

"  Care  of  U.  S.  C.  C." 

Chaplain  Thomas  tells  how  a  little  Chicago  girl  made 
herself  useful  to  sick  soldiers  in  the  Western  Army  : 

Jennie  D  -  wanted  to  do  something  for  the  sick  soldiers.  She 
remembered  how  they  were  deprived  of  the  delicacies  and  comforts 
of  life,  and  her  heart  yearned  for  their  relief.  Not  discouraged,  as 
too  many  are,  because  she  could  not  do  everything,  she 


resolved  to  "do  what  she  could."     But  what  could      gu 

she  do  except  save  her  lumps  of  sugar  ?     When  she 

had  more  than  a  pound,  in   the  Spring  of  1863,  she  sent  it  to  the 

Army   of    the  Cumberland   by   our    Brigade   Quartermaster.     He 

handed  me  a  package  one  day  labelled  thus  : 

"  Lump-sugar  saved  by  Jennie  D-  -  ,  a  little  girl  six  years  old,  to 
give  to  some  sick  soldier." 

"  Do  you  know  any  sick  soldier,  Chaplain,"  said  the  Quartermaster, 
"  who  needs  that  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  a  good  many  of  them,"  I  replied. 

At  a  prayer  meeting  in  my  tent,  I  held  up  the  package  and  told 


Mr.  Uniac,  since  the  war,  has  been  a  successful  Temperance  Lecturer. 


492  CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

the  men  present  what  the  little  girls  at  home  thought  of  the  soldiers. 
They  were  not  accustomed  to  tears,  but  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  there 
was  an  unusual  glistening  in  the  eyes  that  looked  on  the  package. 
I  carried  it  afterwards  to  the  four  Regimental  Hospitals  in  our 
Brigade,  and  gave  a  lump  to  every  sick  man,  telling  him  who  sent  it. 

How  happy  the  poor  boys  were  at  the  child's  practical  remem 
brance  !  They  made  all  sorts  of  grateful  and  curious  remarks. 

One  more  incident  of  the  children's  interest  in  the 
soldiers,  told  by  Rev.  Eobert  J.  Parvin : 

I  had  been  addressing  a  meeting  in  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  towards  the 
close  of  1864.     A  little  girl  was  greatly  interested  in  my  story  and 
wrote  to  me  after  my  return  to  Philadelphia,  enclosing  a  small  con 
tribution  : 
What  the  Sol 
diers  Deserve,  KOCHESTEB,  December  23d,  1864. 
DEAR  MR.  PARVIN  :     What  you  said  about  the 
Soldiers  has  made  me  think  of  them  very  often,  every  day  and  when 
I  kneel  down  at  night.     It  makes  me  very  happy  to  send  some  of 
my  Christmas   money   to   buy   some   little   comfort   for   a   Soldier. 
(Mamma  says  I  should  use  a  little  "  s"  for  Soldiers,  bid  I  think  they 
deserve  capital  letters.^) 

I  mean  to  do  all  that  a  little  girl  can  to  help  you. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

JENNIE  LEE. 

These  illustrative  sketches  of  purposes,  sayings  and 
deeds  begotten  of  the  war  will  find  an  appropriate 
closing  page  in  the  words  of  Rev.  Herrick  Johnson,  a 
Delegate  about  the  Wilderness  time. 

They  are  the  closing  part  of  his  address  at  the  last 
Anniversary  of  the  Commission  in  the  Capitol  at 
Washington : 

"  It  was  once  my  privilege  to  stand  upon  the  summit 
of  Mount  Righi  in  Switzerland,  and  from  its  queenly 
top  witness  an  autumnal  sunset.  Far  away  to  the  west, 


NASHVILLE.  493 

the  monarch  of  day  wrapped  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
about  him,  and  lay  down  as  if  he  were  a  god  confessed. 
He  flung  his  splendors  on  that  unequalled  landscape  with 
royal  munificence.  He  kissed  the  waters  that  lay  em 
bosomed  among  the  hills,  till  they  all  blushed.  The  bald 
peaks  to  the  right  and  the  left  of  us  bared  their  storm- 
beaten  brows  and  bathed  in  the  sunlight.  And  higher 
up  and  farther  away,  the  snow-capped  monarchs  of  the 
Alps  tossed  back  the  sun's  last  rays  from  their  icy  sides 
in  cold  and  proud  disdain.  But,  more  beautiful  than  all, 
the  gem  of  that  most  wondrous  picture  was  the  bridge 
of  golden  sheen  that  stretched  over  hills  and  valleys  and 
lakes  and  dells  from  the  far  distant  horizon  to  our  very 
feet.  It  seemed  as  if  heaven's  gates  had  been  left  open 
and  glory  had  stolen  through.  It  was  cast  up  by  the 
hand  of  God,  a  way  of  gold,  on  which  angels  might 
have  trodden. 

"So  I  have  stood  beside  the  dying  soldier,  when  it  has 
seemed  as  if  a  bridge  of  golden  sheen  were  let  down 
from  heaven,  a  highway  for  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord. 
And  that  way,  cast  up  of  God,  has  glowed  with  the  steps 
of  the  angels,  come  to  bear  the  soldier  who  had  made 
his  last  charge  and  fought  his  last  battle — home.  And 
up  that  shining  path,  with  angel  convoy,  the  spirit  has 
gone, — away  from  the  clang  of  arms  and  the  din  of 
strife  and  the  groans  of  the  wounded, — away,  away,  to 
the  very  gates  of  pearl,  to  the  Peace  like  a  river  and  the 
Rest  of  God. 

"  Oh,  there  are  the  undying  tokens  and  proof  of  the 
success  of  the  Commission.  The  Nation  may  point  to 
its  States  won  back  from  treason  !  the  Army  may  point 
to  its  battle-flags  wrung  from  the  foe  by  vigor  and  valor 


CHRISTIAN    COMMISSION    INCIDENTS. 

and  victory!  Generals  may  point  to  their  starred 
shoulders  as  proofs  of  undaunted  heroism!  Sanitary 
Agencies  may  roll  up  their  peerless  record  of  sublime 
beneficence  !  But  there,  up  there,  are  the  souls  that  are 
marching  on — marching  on!  there  are  the  trophies 
immortal  that  have  been  snatched  from  death !  there  are 
the  unfading  stars  that  have  been  set  in  Christ's  diadem 
through  the  agency  of  this  Christian  Commission." 


INDEX. 


N.  B.— The  names  of  Delegates  are  printed  in  SMALL  CAPITALS;  the  titles  of  Incidents  within 
quotation  marks. 


"  ABE  LINCOLN,"  459. 

"  Abraham  Lincoln's  heart,"  89. 

Acquia  Creek,  130-132,  154,  155. 

Adams,  Joseph,  458-460. 

"  Adverse  influences,"  to  the  Gospel,  389. 

Advocate  and  Journal,  New  York,  16. 

Alabama  regiments,  45. 

Albany,  N.Y.,  comfort-bags  sent  by  Sunday-school 

children  of,  486,  487. 
Alexandria,  357 ;  388. 
'•  Alice  Loyal,"  188,  189. 
"  All  right,"  380. 
'•Almost  up,"  233,  234. 
ALONG  THE  COAST,  chap,  xviii. 
"Amen,"  the  soldier's,  106. 
"  American  Bayard,  an,"  285. 
American  Bible  Society,  457. 
American  Presbyterian,  Philadelphia,  176. 
Anderson,  James,  326-331. 
Andersonville,  399-404,  407-409. 
Andrews'  Latin  Grammar,  234. 
•'Angel  unawares,  an,"  276. 
Annals  of  U.  S.  Christian  Commission,  referred  to, 

15  ;  229,  230,  237  ;  270,  272,  276, 286, 289 ;  427, 

429. 

Annapolis  (and  Parole  Camp),  54-57;  403, 404-413. 
•'  Answers  to  comfort-bag  notes,"  488. 
Antietam,  41-18;  150. 
"  Arch  of  prayer,  the,"  436,  437. 
Armstrong,  Chaplain  C.  S.,  93. 
Army  Committees,  preliminary  work  by,  58. 
"  Army  prayer  meeting,  an,"  140-142. 
Army  Soldiers'  Associations — 

1st  Michigan  Engineers,  97-99. 
llth  Pennsylvania  R.  V.  C.,  204,  205. 
9th  New  Jersey,  332. 
"  Artillery  Reserve  Bible-class,"  197. 
Ash,  Harrison,  182-184. 
Ashamed  of  Christ,  109. 
"  Asleep,"  115, 116. 
"  At  home  with  Jesus,"  354. 
ATKINSON,   REV.  THOMAS,  93,  102-104:   224,  237- 

241 ;  273. 

Atlanta,  the  campaign  against,  282-295. 
"  At  the  front,"  308-311. 
il  At  the  front  in  the  prayer  meeting,"  281. 
Ayres,  M.  P.,  482. 


"  BACKSLIDER,  THE,"  87. 

Backsliding,  equivalent  to  desertion,  82;  turned 
to  confession,  87 :  a  wife's  entreaty  against, 
109, 110 :  its  cause,  132 :  a  child's  prattle  ter 
minates  it,  404. 

BAILEY,  REV.  N.  M.,  303,  304 ;  336,  337. 

BAKER,  ISAAC,  259. 

Baker,  Lieut.,  271. 

BALLANTYNE,  WILLLIAM,  252. 

Baltimore,  47. 

Baltimore  Committee,  47. 

Baptism,  by  Chaplain  Chidlaw,  82  :  in  Stone  River, 
99:  in  Chickamauga  Creek,  278. 

"  Barefoot  Delegate,  a,"  36. 

BARROWS,  REV.  JOHN  0.,  144,  145. 

BARROWS,  REV.  WILLIAM,  140-142. 

BARTLETT,  REV.  LYMAN,  347. 

"  Battery  silenced  for  a  Sunday  service,  a,"  426. 

Battle-field,  its  voices,  73 :  a  bird  on  the,  184. 

Battle-hymn  of  the  Rejmblic — Mrs.  Julia  Ward 
Howe's,  sung  in  Libby  prison,  396,  397. 

Baxter's  Call  to  the  Unconverted,  31 2;  Saints' Rest, 
384. 

BEACH,  LEWIS,  263. 

Beattie,  Brig-Gen.,  220. 

BEATTY,  REV.  ARCHIBALD,  41,  42. 

"  Beginning  to  pack  up,"  260. 

Belle  Plain,  129,  130. 

Belmont,  60,  61. 

Bermuda  Hundred,  297,  298,  315  ;  358. 

Bernard,  Jules,  386. 

"  Best  crutches,"  51. 

"  Best  kind  of  breastwork,"  96,  97. 

"  Best  way  to  thank  you,"  37. 

"  Better  than  gold,"  380. 

Bible,  Cromwell's  Bible  offered  to  President  Lin 
coln  and  a  hospital  cook,  53,  54 :  open  at  the 
23d  Psalm,  after  death.  85 :  learning  the  way 
of  life  from  it,  135—137;  longed  for  on  ac 
count  of  coming  battles,  139:  paying  for 
reading  it,  197:  "A  Bible-loving  General," 
220;  a  German  wants  the  whole,  221;  a  faith 
ful  German  Bible  reader,  237,  238:  it  saves 
life,  263 :  "  The  Bible  and  mother  too,"  295 : 
a  dead  Rebel's  Bible  used  by  a  Union  officer, 
347  ;  "  Little  Clara's,"  and  its  influence,  348, 
349 :  reading  it  in  a  tent,  353 ;  its  price  above 
495 


496 


INDEX. 


rubies,  353;  carried  into  battle,  362,  363:  "I 
will  read  the  Bible,"  386;  the  result  of  a 
candid  reading,  387  :  manufacturing  a  Refer 
ence  Bible,  420;  "Uncle  readin' for  hisself," 
451;  "The  children's  memorial,"  456,  457: 
"  A  letter  for  a  Bible,"  490,  491.  See  SCRIP 
TURES,  TESTAMENT. 

Bible-class,  in  First  Michigan  Engineers,  97,  98 : 
at  Artillery  Reserve  Station,  No.  2,  197 :  in 
5th  corps,  352 :  "  A  Bible-class  scholar's  work," 
469. 

BlCKERDYKE,  MRS.,  440. 

BIGELOW,  GEORGE  W.,  337,  343,  344. 

Billings,  Captain,  171,  172. 

"  Bill  of  fare,"  how  one  brought  a  smile,  306. 

Birney  Station,  357. 

Bishop,  Captain,  292. 

BISSELL,  Miss  KATHARINE  M.,  455,  456,  458-460. 

Bixby,  Mrs.,  484,  485. 

Black  Valley  Jiuilroud  Guide,  210. 

BLAKE,  REV.  D.  UOYT,  325,  326. 

Blutchford,  E.  W.,  474. 

"  Blessed  Book,  the,"  150. 

Blood  of  Jesus,  the,  379. 

Bloomington,  111.,  4S1. 

BOLTON,  C.  E.,  304,  305  ;  362,  363. 

Boston,  Sergeant  W.  II.,  324. 

Boston  Traveler,  473. 

BOURNS,  DR.  J.  FRANCIS,  175, 176. 

BOWLER,  REV.  S.  L.,  344 ;  490. 

Bowman,  Colonel,  153. 

"  Boys,  I  give  in,"  384. 

Bragg,  Frankie,  65-G7. 

Brandy  Station,  193,  197,  198. 

Bread,  soft,  51. 

BRIDGMAN,  S.  E.,  115,  116;  259,  262,  263. 

"Brighter  and  brighter,"  83. 

"  Bright  side  where  Jesus  is,  the,"  119,  120. 

BRINGHUUST,  REV.  GEORGE,  24-27;  56,  57;  162; 
258,  259. 

Bristow  Station,  202-205. 

British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  its  Scripture 
portions,  443. 

"  Broken  rest,"  300. 

Brouson,  Capt.  Isaac  R.,  151. 

Brooks,  George,  465,  466. 

Brothers,  dying  together,  31 :  a  child  brother's 
prayers  recalled,  100:  the  living  and  the 
dead,  180,  181  :  the  living  and  the  dying, 
193-195:  "The  brother's  book,"  272.  273; 
Capt.  Bishop's  letter  to  his  brother,  292: 
'•  The  brothers  Bible,"  362  ;  "  A  brother's  rest 
with  his  dead,"  426,  427. 

"  Brought  to  Christ  by  a  storm,"  341,  342. 

Brown,  Chaplain,  39,  40. 

BROWN,  REV.  R.,  112;  449,  450,  460,  461. 

BROWN,  REV.  SEWALL,  384,  385. 

Brown,  Tom.  334, 335. 

Brownsville,  Texas,  474-476. 


Bruce,  Michael,  329-331. 

BUCHANAN,  REV.  W.  HOWELL,  354,  355. 

BULLARD,  REV.  ASA,  346. 

Bull  Run ;  the  first  battle,  14,  seq. :  the  second, 

35,  SKq. 

"  Burial  just  before  the  charge,  the,"  429,  430. 
"  Buried  in  his  blanket,"  285. 
Burke,  Captain,  289. 

BURNELL,  K.  A.,  74-76;  107,  110,  111;  229;  443. 
"  Burns,  Old  John,"  165. 

CAIRO,  60,  61 ;  452-455. 

CALHOUN,  JOHNSTON,  196. 

Camp  Convalescent  (Distribution)  146-148 ;  207- 
211,  212-214;  372-376. 

Camp  Douglas,  67-70. 

Camp  Remount,  384,  385. 

Camp  Stoneman,  211,  212. 

Camp  William  Penn,  473. 

"  Can't  keep  track  of  Sunday,"  379. 

"  Can't  stand  without  the  '  little  ones,'  "  350. 

"Can't  you  trust  Jesus?"  226. 

"Captain  Billings  in  his  place,"  171,  172. 

"  Captain's  epitaph,  the,"  85. 

"Captain  Weston's  handkerchief,"  478,  479. 

Card-playing,  in  Camp  Douglas,  69,  70:  put  an 
end  to,  94 ;  interrupted,  110-112 :  on  Sun 
day,  379. 

"  Cards  and  Testaments,"  138. 

Care,  our  safety  in  God's,  96,  97. 

Carleton,  see  C.  C.  COFFIN. 

CARNACHAN,  REV.  J.  GORDON,  300,  301. 

"  Carrying  the  war  into  Africa,"  110,  111. 

CARTER,  WALTER  S.,  298-300. 

Cavalry  Depot,  Army  of  Potomac,  337-344. 

Cave  City,  Ky.,  437. 

Cedar  Mountain,  35,  36. 

Central  New  York  Branch,  485. 

CHAMBERLAIN,  A.  E.,  78-80,  86,  87  ;  414,  415,  422, 
423,  436,  437  ;  441-443,  450,  451. 

CHAMHKRLAIN,  JOHN  C.,  161,  162. 

Chancellorsville,  149,  seq. 

"  Changed  life,  the,"  100,  101. 

Chapels,  supplied  to  Army  of  Potomac  during  the 
Winter  of  1863-64,  196 ;  built  and  furnished 
by  soldiers,  197 :  chapel  building  at  Cavalry 
Dep6t,  339,  340 ;  in  Army  of  Potomac,  Win 
ter  of  1864-65,  344-347,  353-357  ;  "  A  chapel's 
influence,"  354;  "The  gate  of  heaven,"  354, 
355;  "Coming  to  chapel  alone,"  371 :  in  the 
Shenandoah  Valley,  384. 

Chapin,  Charley  B.,  400-404. 

Chaplains, work  cordially  with  Delegates,  93  ;  277  : 
449:  heroism  of  Chaplain  Eastman,  164: 
petitioning  for  one,  205,  206:  coming  for 
Testaments,  352:  "  Chaplains"  in  Anderson- 
villo,  408. 

"  Charity,"  373. 

Charleston,  469,  470. 


INDEX. 


497 


CHARPIOT,  REV.  L.  E.,  299. 

CHASE,  GEORGE  S.,  302. 

Chattanooga,  224-231,  237,  238 ;  269-272, 276 ;  399. 

Cheat  Mountain,  16. 

"  Cheerfulness,"  304,  305. 

Cheltenham,  Pa.,  472. 

Chicago,  480-482. 

Chicago  Army  Committee,  58,  60,  62,  67-70,  71, 
84;  123;  478. 

Chickamauga,  73  ;  221,  224,  seq. 

CHIDLAW,  REV.  B.  W.,  77,  81, 82 ;  222, 223 ;  436 ;  442. 

Children,  "  Little  Lizzie's  letter,"  91-93 ;  waiting 
until  Pa  comes  home,  110 :  "  The  Humis- 
ton  children,''  175,  176:  "German  children 
preaching  in  America,"  203  :  "  Beginning  to 
pack  up,"  260  :  "  Who'll  be  my  Pa  ?"  325 ;  a 
child's  message  leads  to  her  father's  conver 
sion,  345  ;  "  Can't  stand  without  the  '  little 
ones,' "  350  :  "  Will  he  talk  to  God  as  he  used 
to  ?"  404 :  "  The  children's  orange,"  434 :  "  The 
children's  memorial,"  456,  457:  "Washed 
white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,"  468 :  a 
father's  letter  to  Hattie,  485,  486 :  "  Comfort- 
hags"  from  Sunday-school  children  in  Al 
bany,  486,  487  :  letters  from  Teny,  John  W. 
Cummings,  and  Minnie  Olive  C.,  489  ;  E.  II. 
Uniac's  letter  to  Katie  Walker  and  Charlie 
Huntingdon,  490,  491 ;  Jennie  D.'s  lump- 
sugar,  491,  492;  Jennie  Lee's  capital  "  S" 
for  soldiers,  492. 

"  Child's  prayer,  the,"  211,  212. 

"  Child  soldier's  faith,  the,"  227. 

"  Choosing  a  prayer  meeting,"  382. 

CHRIST,  His  presence  gives  happiness  amidst  pains, 
39,  40,  45 ;  83 ;  259  :  "  The  source  of  courage," 
48  ;  not  ashamed  of,  55,  56 :  no  cloud  between 
Him  and  the  soul,  60,  61;  without  Christ, 
62,  63;  a  verse  leads  to  Him,  64;  lifted  up  to 
draw  men  unto  Him,  71,  72;  He  receives  a 
backslider,  87  :  deciding  to  follow  Him,  94, 
118;  Christ  saves— not  our  works,  102,  103; 
His  love  best  in  the  battle,  107 ;  a  counter 
sign,  107;  ashamed  of  Him,  109;  "The  De 
liverer,"  127,  128;  "I  haven't  got  to  Him 
yet,"  137  ;  found,  148  ;  the  sweetness  of  His 
Name,  150;  near  in  the  battle,  154,  155: 
preached  in  spite  of  infirmities,  164;  "Christ's 
drink  and  mine,"  170 ;  precious,  187 :  the 
Good  Shepherd  and  Friend,  193-195;  His 
goodness,  198 ;  hiding  behind  Him,  212,  213  ; 
enlisting  for  Him,  213 :  the  covenant  to  hold 
to  Him,  219 ;  "  Not  here,"  219 ;  trusting  Him 
now,  226 ;  the  pardoning  blood,  228 ;  received 
and  rejected,  239-241:  "Near  by,"  248,  257; 
321:  the  precious  Name,  257,  258;  found 
through  a  brother's  death,  226 :  "  Christ 
wanted,  not  the  prayer  meeting,"  270  ;  com 
rades  in  Christ,  271 ;  how  His  work  might  be 
done  on  the  battle-field,  283;  faith  in  Him 

32 


in  battle,  284 ;  giving  directions  how  to  find 
Him,  288  ;  "  Christ,  all  I  want,"  288, 289 ;  com 
plete  iu  Him,  293:  clinging  to  His  cross,  318, 
319 :  "  Reporting"  to  Christ,  and  under  or 
ders,  333-335 ;  brought  to  Him  by  a  storm 
341,342;  "Trying"  to  find  Him,  348,  349; 
Christ,  the  comfort  in  death,  349:  "At  home 
with  Jesus,"  354;  forgotten  and  recalled, 
375,376;  "The  precious  Christ,"  379 ;  found 
to  be  more  than  human,  387,  388;  remem 
bered  when  home  is  forgotten,  405, 406 :  "  He 
died  to  save  sinners,  therefore  He  died  for 
me,"  418 ;  Christ  slays  enmity,  422 ;  "  The 
invincible  love,"  428,  429 ;  "  The  substitute,'* 
447;  giving  up  all  for  Him,  448,  449;  "The 
healer  of  pains,"  454,  455;  "I  cannot  give 
You  up,"  457,  458;  "Rejected  for  the  last 
time,"  462,  463 :  the  faithful  presence,  466 ; 
"  The  kingdom  that  will  come,"  470. 

Christian,  choosing  not  to  be  a,  87 :  vs.  forty- 
pounders  and  sickness,  96,  97  ;  manliness  and 
constancy,  120-122 :  how  long  it  takes  to  be 
come  one,  129,  130 ;  how  a  soldier  learned  to 
be  a  Christian  before  enlisting,  135-138 ;  "  The 
whistling  Christian,"  137  ;  becoming  one  on 
account  of  the  prayers  at  home,  139 ;  influ 
ence  of  a  Christian's  courage,  145, 146 ;  kind 
ness  leads  to  become  a  Christian,  155,  156 : 
"  The  Christian  victory,"  171-174 ;  becoming 
a  Christian  and  a  patriot  together,  185-189 ; 
a  soldier's  address  on  beginning  the  new  life, 
200;  power  of  a  Captain's  Christian  life,  202; 
Christian  living  in  the  army,  209  :  telling  the 
truth  about  wanting  to  be  a  Christian,  230, 
231 :  the  soldier's  admiration  for  the  Chris 
tian  life,  247 ;  a  Christian  General's  death, 
247,  248;  easy  to  be  one,  262:  refusing  to 
use  a  furlough  until  becoming  a  Christian, 
272 ;  Christians  as  soldiers,  281  :  Christian 
patriotism,  316:  power  of  a  Christian  life, 
323 ;  the  Christian's  "  orders,"  334,  335 ;  the 
word  "  Christian"  on  a  sign,  343,  344 ;  how  to 
become  a  Christian,  346 :  a  Christian  colored 
soldier's  opinions,  364-367  :  earnest  desire  to 
become  one,  379, 380 ;  dying  a  Christian,  but 
not  a  Christian  worker,  394 :  "  A  Christian 
hero,"  420,  421 ;  wanting  to  be  a  Christian, 
434,  435;  "Tell  father  to  become  a  Chris 
tian,"  435,  436:  comparative  mortality  of 
Christians  and  others,  452 ;  letting  the  light 
shine,  453 ;  "  The  Sergeant's  determination," 
455,  456. 

Christian  Banner,  370. 

Christianity,  patronized  not  realized,  132,  133: 
living,  384:  vs.  skepticism,  406. 

"  Chronic,  the,"  96. 

Church,  "  In  the  woods,"  98,  99 ;  "  Unity  of  the 
church,"  168,  169. 

Cincinnati,  78-80,86, 87;  414, 415, 422, 423 ;  441, 442. 


498 


INDEX. 


City  Point,  297,  298,  300,  301,  305  306,  317 ;  324- 
326,  331,  332,  333-335,  345,  346,  349 ;  351,  353, 
358-360,  361,  363,  371. 

CLAPP,  HERBERT  C.,  361. 

CLARK,  REV.  J.  M.,  404,  405.  408-410,  412,  413. 

CLARK,  REV.  P.  K.,  348,  349. 

"  Cleveland— Jesus,"  279,  280. 

Cleveland,  Tenn.,  279-281. 

"  Coals  of  fire  on  the  head."  158. 

COAST  WORK,  chapter  xviii. 

Coffee,  a  cup  for  Gen.  A.  J.  Smith,  430. 

Coffin,  C.  C.,  61,  65-67  ;  248-251 ;  308-311, 317-319 ; 
379,  380. 

COIT,  REV.  MR.,  191,  192. 

"  Cold  shoe,  the,"  51. 

COLE,  JOHN  A.,  138 ;  253. 

Colored  troops,  Army  of  Potomac,  work  for,  357, 
358;  their  characteristics,  358,  seq. ;  "Ques 
tioning  General  Grant,"  358-360 ;  '•  Why  the 
war  came,"  360;  their  eagerness  to  learn, 
360-362;  attachment  to  the  Bible,  362,  363; 
faith,  363,  364 ;  "A  colored  sergeant's  opin 
ions,"  364-367  ;  patriotism,  364-368 ;  "  Enlist 
ing  to  suffer,"  369, 370 ;  love  for  the  brethren, 
373:  "Devotion,"  425;  "Uncle  readin'  for 
hisself,"  451:  "Dying  that  others  might 
live,"  466,  467;  "The  kingdom  that  will 
come,"  470;  "Wanting  to  go,"  475:  regi 
ments,  450,  477  :  31st  U.  S.  C.  T.,  362 ;  473. 

"  Come,  Thou  fount  of  every  blessing,"  251. 

Come  to  Jesus,  79 ;  155  ;  473. 

Comfort,  from  a  son's  death  in  Christ,  166, 167 : 
"In  the  dark  valley,"  349:  for  a  soldier, 
492. 

Comfort-bags,  154,  178  ;  219,  220 ;  486-489. 

"Coming  to  chapel,  alone,"  371. 

"  Coming  to  Jesus,"  79. 

"  Coming  to  the  waters,"  216. 

Commandments,  keeping  the,  135,  136. 

Communion,  better  than  going  alone,  98:  Chris 
tian  communion,  145  :  longing  for  it,  200;  at 
Vermont  Station,  201 ;  in  the  llth  P.  R.  V.  C., 
204,  205 :  at  Ringgold,  278 :  with  Christ,  321. 

"  Compensation,"  256  ;  393. 

"  Complete  in  Christ  Jesus,"  293. 

"Concerning  hard  cases,"  446. 

"Confederate  prisoners  and  wounded,  treatment 
of,  43-45:  157,158;  232;  3-84:  feeling  toward 
Rebel  sympathizers,  46,  47 :  altered  feeling 
after  Gettysburg,  176,  seq. ;  difference  be 
tween  officers  and  privates,  182:  touched 
with  kindness  at  Resaca,  283:  after  Fort 
Harrison,  300. 

"  Confessing  with  the  mouth,"  331. 

"  Confession,  the,"  209. 

Confidence  of  soldiers  in  Delegates,  343:  "  Confi 
dence  and  thrift,"  480,  481. 

"Conflict  and  a  victory,  a,"  127,  128. 

Conyregationalist,  Boston,  116 ;  283 ;  308  ;  379. 


Connecticut  regiments.  155 ;  1st  Cavalry,  139 ; 
14th  Infantry,  151. 

"  Conquerors  through  Him,"  205. 

"Consecration  in  battle,"  471. 

Contributions  to  the  Commission,  by  a  sailor, 
454,  455 :  by  Capt.  Weston,  477,  478  ;  by  a 
wife,  and  a  widow,  478  ;  by  "  Mr.  Maloney," 
479  ;  an  Irishman's  will,  480,  481 ;  largest 
single  contribution  (Jacob  Strawn's),  482, 
483 ;  by  Mrs.  Ellet,  484. 

Conundrum,  a,  349,  350. 

Conversion,  a  hymn-book  loads  to,  59;  "Little 
Piety's"  testimony  conquers  a  Captain's  op 
position,  59,  60 ;  one  verse,  64  :  "  Little  Liz 
zie's  letter,"  91-93;  conversion  changes  a 
life,  100,  101:  personal  decision,  129,  130:  a 
contraband's  account  of  conversion,  183, 184 : 
in  a  prayer  meeting,  198-200 ;  cases  at  Camp 
Convalescent,  207,208;  as  a  little  child,  211, 
212,  213:  how  it  transforms  life,  262,  263:  a 
comrade's  death  leads  to  conversion,  276:  fol 
lowed  by  Christian  work,  331,  332;  "Old 
things  become  new,"  332,  333  ;  a  conversion 
and  consecration,  346,  347  :  a  chapel's  influ 
ence,  354;  a  Christian's  life  leads  to  it,  354: 
a  sutler  converted,  400 ;  at  Andersonville, 
407  ;  a  sailor's  account  of  conversion,  411 : 
the  meaning  of  the  word,  458,  459. 

"Converted  sutler,  the,"  400. 

Conviction,  a  Sergeant's,  69  ;  199,  200 :  not  excite 
ment,  230,  231  :  through  reading  Baxter's 
Call,  372,  373  ;  "  Curious,  angry,  convicted," 
392,  393. 

"  Convinced,"  230,  231. 

COOLIDGE,  REV.  AMOS  H.,  195,  196. 

Cord,  Thomas  A.,  399. 

COREY,  REV.  CHARLES  II.,  31 ;  36,  37. 

"Costly  sacrifice,  the,"  484,  485. 

"Countersign,  the,"  107. 

"  Country  above,  the,"  214. 

Courage,  Christ  its  source,  48 :  Frankie  Bragg's, 
65  ;  in  death,  76,  77  ;  416  :  of  an  armless  sol 
dier,  86  :  springing  from  Christ's  love.  107  ; 
power  of  moral  courage,  111;  on  a  forlorn 
hope,  117;  "Get  the  ship  by,  boys,"  124: 
finding  courage  to  enlist,  134-137  ;  a  Chris 
tian's  courage,  145, 146 ;  "  Four  inches  longer 
than  yours,  Johnny,"  304,  305 ;  "  Not  much 
in  the  Rebel's  debt,"  314,  315  ;  a  Corporal 
promoted  to  die,  316 :  courage  in  duty  con 
quers  opposition,  331 ;  prayer  gives  courage, 
336,  337  :  "  A  sailor  hero,"  473,  474. 

Cowan  Station,  Tenn.,  220. 

CRAWFORD,  T.  0.,  125-128. 

Crittenden,  General,  and  Sabbath-keeping,  84. 

Cromwell's  Bible,  53,  54. 

Crozier,  Chaplain,  86. 

"Crutch  battalion,  a,"  404,  405. 

Crutches,  odd,  419. 


INDEX. 


499 


"  Crying  out  after  God,"  373,  374. 

"  Crying  out  of  pain  for  a  Saviour,  454,  455. 

Culpepper,  200,  201 ;  244. 

Ciinimings'  House  Station,  346,  347. 

Cummings,  John  W.,  his  comfort- bag  letter,  489. 

Cumrnings,  Lieut.,  124. 

"  Cup  of  coffee  for  General  Smith,  a,"  430. 

"  Curious,  angry,  convicted,"  S92,  393. 

GUSHING,  REV.  CHRISTOPHER,  50-53. 

GUSHING,  REV.  S.  A.,  220. 

Cutler,  Henry,  433,  434. 

CUTLER,  REV.  CHARLES,  324,  325. 

DAILY  FOOD,  454. 

DISCOMB,  REV.  A.  B.,  100, 101. 

Dvvis,  REV.  J.  B.,  196. 

Daylight,  gunboat,  469. 

Days  and  nights  on  the  battle-field,  65. 

"  Dead,"  210. 

Death,  cloudless,  60,61 ;  bringing  nearer  to  God, 
62 :  not  ready  for  it,  62,  63 ;  133, 134 ;  462, 463 : 
love  makes  it  easy,  66, 67  ;  "  God  have  mercy," 
67  ;  "  With  face  upwards,"  71 ;  the  soldier's 
reverence  for  a  Christian  death,  75,  76;  a 
coming  to  Jesus,  79,  80;  happiness  in  death, 
83 ;  its  brightness,  83 ;  its  peace,  85 :  readi 
ness  for  it,  93,  94;  125,  126;  289:  death  and 
sleep,  115, 116;  bringing  home,  118:  "Swal 
lowed  up  in  victory,"  151:  peaceful  death 
answers  prayer,  169,  170 :  with  only  two 
mourners,  192 :  hopeless,  219  ;  a  "  transfer," 
not  a  "  discharge,"  223,  224 ;  Christ  dearest 
in  death,  240,  241 :  "  A  short  cut  to  glory," 
247  ;  it  comes  only  when  work  is  done,  252, 
253  :  "  Dead,  but  marching  on,"  255  :  the 
comrades'  death  together,  271 ;  the  Angel  by 
the  bed,  276 ;  "  Discharged  to-night,"  280  :  a 
text  for  preaching  death  and  eternity,  313, 
314 ;  a  Christian  Indian's  death,  317 ;  Ed 
ward  M.  Schneider,  318,  319:  removes  above, 
324 ;  like  the  life,  324,  325 ;  its  gloom  and 
hope,  329-331 ;  prepared  and  not  prepared, 
345,  346 ;  Christ  precious  in  death,  349 :  death 
of  REV.  J.  P.  FISHKR,  376;  near  tlie  prayer 
meeting,  392:  death  in  life  at  Annapolis 
wharf,  412,  413 :  Christ's  love  prepares  for  it, 
416  ;  "  A  brother's  rest  with  his  dead,"  426, 
427  ;  a  sleeping  soldier's  death  and  burial, 
429,  430:  Henry  Cutler,  433,  434:  getting 
ready  to  live  vs.  getting  ready  to  die,  446 ; 
between  the  heavenly  arid  earthly  homes, 
457,  458. 

"  Decide  now,"  458-460. 

"  Decision,  the,"  94 ;  129, 130 ;  200 ;  279,  295 ;  437  : 
456,  459. 

Delegates,  arrival  of  the  first  at  Old  Point  Com 
fort,  18-20  ;  called  "  Chaplains,"  21 ;  their 
pay,  24 ;  225  :  REV.  GEORGE  BRINGHURST,  the 
first,  24;  doing  nurse's  work,  29,  30;  divi 


sion  of  labor  at  White  House  Landing,  32, 
33:  "Barefoot,"  36;  outfit,  36;  exposed  to 
fire ;  41,  42  ;  save  life,  42,  43 ;  160,  161 ;  246 : 
washing  shirts,  45,  46 ;  acting  for  crutches, 
51 :  first  Delegates  to  the  West  from  the 
Central  Office,  58,  84,  85 :  assisted  by  officers, 
106:  open-heartedness  of  the  men  toward 
them,  144;  how  soldiers  were  touched  by 
their  kindness,  154-156 ;  anticipating  the 
wounded,  157 :  value  of  their  slightest,  ser 
vices,  161,  162 ;  their  most  precious  reward, 
166;  their  hardest  task,  171,  172;  one  be 
comes  a  stretcher,  173 :  means  of  communi 
cating  news  otherwise  never  known,  217  ; 
relief  work  at  Chattanooga,  224-226 ;  estab 
lish  a  hospital  on  Mission  Ridge,  232  ;  confi 
dence  reposed  in  them,  232  ;  building  a  fire 
on  Mission  Ridge,  235,  236 ;  night  work  on 
the  Ridge,  236 :  getting  straw  at  Fredericks- 
burg,  249 ;  an  evening  prayer  meeting,  250, 
251 ;  a  Surgeon-Delegate's  work,  251,  252 ;  a 
son's  death  heard  of,  259,  260  ;  hardships  on 
a  march,  264,  265  :  an  Agent's  troubles  on  a 
Sunday  in  Kingston,  286,  287 :  writing  let 
ters  for  soldiers,  298  ;  "  Broken  rest,"  300 ; 
gets  a  hundred  dollars  for  mother,  301 ;  long 
march  in  the  ranks,  302,  303;  "Carleton" 
acts  as  a  Delegate,  309-311 :  in  place  of  a 
father,  335,  336 :  a  Delegate's  last  hours,  376 ; 
experience-meeting  in  Washington,  379, 380 ; 
a  busy  afternoon  at  Provisional  Camp,  388, 
389  :  "  Finding  home,"  422  ;  a  Delegate's  in 
terview  with  General  A.  J.  Smith,  430:  "A 
Delegate's  shirts  for  bandages,"  437,  438: 
work  of  last  Commission  Delegates  in  Texas, 
474_476 ;  an  Irishman's  confidence  in  them, 
480,  481 ;  "  I  owe  my  life  to  them,"  483. 

"  Deliverance,"  413. 

DEMOND,  CHARLES,  29,  30  ;  45,  46;  73,  74 ;  161, 162, 
177  ;  477,  478. 

"  Depth  of  the  revival,  the,"  277. 

Derry,  N.  H.,  478. 

"  Descriptive  lists,"  21,  22. 

"  Deserter  mustered  in,  a,"  82. 

"  Deserting  from  Satan's  army,"  108. 

Detectives,  General  Baker's  corps  and  a  Delegate, 
266-268. 

Detroit  Advertiser  and  Tribune,  180 ;  314. 

"  Devils  and  Angels,"  177. 

Devotion  to  the  flag,  76,  77 ;  to  officers,  425. 

"  Dew-drops  for  rations,"  65. 

Diary,  extracts  from  one  kept  in  Amlersonvillo, 
401,402. 

"  Died  for  me,"  242. 

Diligence,  Satan's  past  service  a  reason  for  the 
future  service  of  God,  100,  101. 

"  Disappointment,"  325,  326. 

"Discharge,  the,"  108. 

Discipline,  310. 


500 


INDEX. 


"  Distributing  reading,"  312. 

"Divinity  doctor  washing  shirts,  a,"  45,  46. 

"  Doctor,  your  name,"  28. 

"  Doctrine  of  perfection,  the,"  208. 

Doherty,  Jesse,  239. 

"  Doing  nurses'  work,"  29,  30. 

Doubleday,  William  0.,  169. 

Doubt,   its  influence,   132:    conquered   by  "the 

Bible  and  mother,  too,"  295. 
"  Doubting,  I  stopped  praying,"  132. 
Downey,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edward,  474. 
Doxology.  in  Libby,  396. 
Draft,  escaping  the,  447. 
Drake,  C.  F.,  370. 
"  Drill,"  31. 

'•  Drilling  for  Jesus,"  381,  382. 
Drinking  visages  in  the  army,  121. 
"  Drummer-boy's  prayer,"  13,  14. 
DUFFIELD,  KEY.  GEORGE,  Jr.,  179-184;  314,  315. 
Dupont,  Admiral,  469. 
Durgan,  Rev.  John  M.,  149. 
DURYEA,  REV.  JOSEPH  T.,  164. 
DUTCHER,  JOHN  A.,  425. 
DUTTON,  ALBERT,  I.,  95. 
Dwight,  Rev.  Dr.,  467. 

"Dying  beneath  the  stars  and  stripes,"  123. 
"  Dying  close  to  the  prayer  meeting,"  392. 
"  Dying  Indian  chief,  the,"  317. 
"Dying  pillow,  the,"  47. 
"Dying  that  others  might  live,"  466,  467. 
"  Dying  that  the  land  might  be  righteous,"  322. 
"  Dying  with  face  upwards,"  71. 
"  Dying  without  the  sight,"  233,  234. 

"  EAGER  FOR  GOD'S  WORD,"  143, 144, 

EARLE,  J.  H.,  385,  386. 

EASTERN  ARMIES,  chapters  i.,  ii.,  v.,  vi.,  vii.,  ix., 
xi.,  xii..  xiii..  xiv.  Short  summaries  of  army 
movements,  14,  16,  17,  18,  27,  29,  34;  35,  36, 
40,41,48,49;  125,148,149;  156,159,160;  190, 
192,  193;  243,  244,  248,  263,  264;  296,  297; 
370,  371 ;  376,  377,  382,  383,  388. 

Eastman,  Chaplain,  164. 

EATON,  REV.  W.  II.,  149,  150,  153,  154. 

"  Eclipse  disaster,  the,"  454,  455. 

Edgerton,  Colonel  A.  J.,  452. 

Edwards,  General,  370. 

Elegy,  by  Michael  Bruce,  329,  331. 

Elizabeth,  Ky.,  23. 

Ellet,  Mrs.,  484. 

Enemies,  relieving  their  thirst,  37,  sacrifice  on 
their  behalf,  42,  43. 

Enfans  Perdus,  25,  33. 

"  Enlisted  to  suffer,"  369,  370. 

"Enlisting  for  Christ,"  213. 

Enlistment,  preparing  for,  134-137. 

ENSIGN,  REV.  F.  G.,  118 ;  443-445. 

"  Entering  into  life  maimed,"  337. 

"  Entire  company  for  Jesus,  an,"  202. 


Essex,  gunboat,  61. 

EVA,  REV.  WILLIAM  T.,  172, 173. 

'Evening  meetings  at  Vicksburg,"  449,  450. 

'  Evening  scenes  in  Fredericksburg,"  250,  251. 
"Even  so  must  He  be  lifted  up,"  71,  72. 
•'  Everybody  feels  so,"  380. 
Examiner,  New  York,  193. 
Experience,  related  by  proxy,  131. 
Express   business,   done   by  the   Commission  in 

Army  of  the  Potomac,  306,  307. 
"  Extemporized  flying  hospital,  an,"  431,  432. 

FAITH,  in  Christ  lifted  up  to  draw  men  unto  Him, 
71,  72;  the  prayer  of  faith,  79,  80  :  amid  dif 
ficulties,  95,  96;  articles  of  faith  in  an  army 
Christian  Association,  98  ;  in  the  Atonement, 
102, 103 ;  it  conquers  the  Adversary,  110-112  ; 
preached  to  others,  returning  to  comfort  one's 
self,  119, 120  ;  a  colored  woman's  faith,  119, 
120:  in  battle,  154,155:  its  justification,  163  : 
saves  from  death,  227  :  faith  in  recovery,  252, 
253  :  in  Grant  and  in  Christ,  284 :  it  prepares 
for  sacrifice,  322  ;  how  Tom  Brown  was  taught 
it,  334,  335  ;  faith,  not  "  trying,"  348,  349  : 
"  Giving  up  when  the  Lord  does,"  363,  364 : 
in  Providence,  366 :  faith  in  Christian  plans 
and  work,  422,  423  :  "  Washed  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb,"  468  ;  a  colored  soldier's 
faith,  470. 

Fairfax  C.  IT.,  142,  143,  144,  156-158. 

Fairfax  Station,  36,  37  ;  143,  144,  156. 

"  Falling  in  for  the  front,"  356. 

Palmer,  Sergeant,  122,  123. 

Falmouth,  144,  145,  155,  156. 

"  Farewell  on  the  battle-field,"  167,  168. 

"  Father's  last  look,  a,"  175,  176. 

"  Father,  meet  me  in  heaven,"  294. 

"  Father's  rest,  the,"  257,  258. 

"  Father  to  Lottie,"  485,  486. 

FERRIS,  EDWIN,  360,  361. 

Fever  and  ague,  exorcising,  222,  223. 

"  Finding  home,"  422. 

"  First  prayer,  the,"  281. 

"  First-rate,"  377,  378. 

FISHER,  MRS.  J.  P.,  375,  376. 

FISHER,  REV.  J.  P.,  374-376. 

FISK,  GENERAL  CLINTON  B.,  88-90 ;  105, 106, 113, 
114;  439. 

Flag,  how  one  was  made  in  Libby,  397. 

Flowers,  their  use  by  a  lady  Delegate,  455,  456. 

Foote,  Commodore  A.  II.,  a  Christian,  61 ;  his 
"  Order,  No.  6,"  62. 

Ford,  Mrs.  E.  I.,  415,  416. 

Ford,  Surgeon,  433,  434. 

Forgiveness,  fits  for  heaven,  130,  131 ;  "Of  sins," 
136, 137  :  for  a  backslider,  193-195 :  through 
a  Testament's  teachings,  218 :  for  sufferings 
at  Andersonville,  409,  410  :  not  expected, 
but  wanted,  417. 


IXDEX. 


501 


"Forgotten  Saviour  recalled,  the,"  375,  376. 

Fort  Albany,  17. 

Fcrt  Baker,  485,  486. 

Fort  Donelson,  62-64. 

Fort  Harrison,  298-300. 

Fort  Henry.  61,  77. 

Fortitude,  51;  115,  116;  137,  138,  149;  163,  164, 
170,174;  225;  256;  377,378. 

Fort  Leavenworth,  460,  461,  464. 

Fortress  Monroe,  18-20,  25. 

Fort  Stevens,  377,  378. 

Fort  Wagner,  470,  471. 

"  Forward— Double-quick-March,"  393,  394. 

"  Fourth  in  Libby^the,"  397. 

Fox,  Chaplain  Norman,  193. 

Frederick,  Md.,  190. 

Fredericksburg,  49,  seq.;  248-263. 

Free,  Isaac,  208-210. 

Freedom,  its  value,  366,  367. 

"  Freeman  indeed,  a,"  182-184. 

Freeman,  Thomas  and  William,  362. 

French,  Captain,  J.  S.,  454. 

Fribley,  Colonel,  473,  474. 

"  Fruit  after  many  days,"  74,  75. 

FULLER,  REV.  A.,  368-370. 

Fuller,  Sergeant,  455,  456. 

Fulton  Street  prayer  meeting,  New  York,  inci 
dents  related  in,  13, 14 ;  49. 

GAINES'  MILLS,  31. 

Galesburg,  111.,  481. 

Gulveston,  Texas,  473,  474. 

GANSE,  REV.  HERVEY  D.,  128. 

Garnett,  Harlem  T.,  263. 

GARY,  Miss  LIZZIE  S.,  474,  475. 

"Gate  of  heaven,  the,"  354,  355. 

"  General  Fisk's  Tactics,"  113-115. 

General  Grant's  railroad.  350. 

George,  Mrs.,  291. 

"  George's  Furlough,"  326. 

'•  German  Bible  reader,  a,"  237,  238. 

"  German  children  preaching  in  America,"  203. 

"  German's  joy,  a,"  203. 

Gerrigan,  John,  332. 

'•Get  the  ship  by,  boys,"  124. 

"  Getting  ahead  of  the  wounded,"  157. 

"  Getting  ready  to  live,"  446,  447. 

•'Getting  straw  for  the  wounded,"  249. 

"Getting  to  the  front,"  in  the  trenches,  311, 

312. 

GETTYSBURG,  137  ;  chapter  vi. 
GILBERT,  REV.  W.  H.,  353. 
Gillespie,  John,  393,  394. 
"  Give  me  a  prayer,"  410. 
''Given  life,  a,"  174. 

"  Giving  up  when  the  Lord  does,"  363,  364. 
"Gladdened  home,  a,"  262,  263. 
GLADWIN,  REV.  W.  J.,  464. 
"  God  bless  you,"  the  Delegates'  pay,  24 ;  275 ;  384. 


!  "  God  bliss  the  likes  of  yees,"  305. 

"God,  country,  mother,"  74. 

"  God  have  mercy,"  14 ;  67. 

God's  Way  of  Peace,  Bonar,  459. 

"  God's  word  a  defence,"  263. 

"Going  down  to  get  up,"  17. 

"  Going  into  battle,"  345,  346. 

"Going  through  it  again,"  255. 

"  Going  to  the  front,"  439. 

"Going  up  among  the  stars,"  256. 

"  Good-bye,  old  arm,"  86. 

"  Good  cause  to  be  wounded  in,  a,"  284. 

"Goodness  of  Jesus,  the,"  198. 

GOODWIN,  REV.  E.  P.,  23;  76-78;  388-394. 

Gospel,  vs.  hospital  comforts,  51 ;  quells  a  disturb 
ance,  56,  57  :  rejected,  62,  63  ;  gospel-rations, 
65 ;  making  it  plain,  67-69 :  not  returning 
void,  101,  111,  112;  preached  in  face  of  dis 
couragements,  110-112 :  "  The  gospel  of  bread 
and  coffee,"  158;  makes  freemen,  182-184: 
in  season  and  out  of  season,  193-195 :  reject 
ing  and  receiving  it,  239-241:  preached  be 
fore  Grant's  advance,  244,  245:  its  battle 
with  Satan  at  Cavalry  Depot,  337-344 ;  fled 
from  at  home,  met  in  the  army,  342,  343: 
"Better  than  gold,"  380;  for  body  and  soul, 
384 :  "  In  Andersonville,"  408,  409 :  the  op 
portunity  for  preaching  it  past,  461,  462. 

Grace,  a  triumph  of,  100,  101 :  God's  grace  and 
"  Old  Brindle,"  134-138 :  its  victory,  172, 173; 
known  and  declared,  183, 184:  its  power  in 
converting  a  sutler,  400. 

"  Grand  review,  the,"  388. 

GRANT,  JAMES,  37,  42-44. 

Grant,  Lieut.  Gen.,  and  the  contraband,  358-360. 

Grassie,  Rev.  Thomas,  160. 

Graves,  nameless,  77,  78. 

"  Greater  includes  the  less,  the,"  53,  54. 

Greedy,  George,  32. 

Greene,  Dr.,  28. 

Griffeth,  Captain,  167. 

Griffith,  A.  L.,  416-418. 

"Guiding  into  the  kingdom,"  192. 

Gwyn,  General,  355. 

"  HAD   TO  BE   DONE   RIGHT   OFF,"  88,  89. 

HALL,  Rev.  GEORGE  A.,  356,  357. 

"  Halt  and  armless,"  224. 

Ham,  Amos  L.,  345. 

"  Hand  at  the  window,  the,"  230,  231. 

Hanover  C.  H.,  37. 

Hans,  David,  115, 116. 

"  Happiest  man  yon  ever  saw,  the,"  40. 

"  Happy  as  a  prince,"  45. 

"  Happy  day,  172, 173. 

"  Happy  in  Jesus,"  83. 

"  Hard  cases,  concerning,"  446. 

HARJ>FNG,  REV.  J.  W.,  358. 

"  Hard  on  sinners,"  213. 


502 


INDEX. 


Hardships,  after  Fort  Doiielson,  63 :  in  the  South 
ern  prisons,  chapter  xv.,  passim. 

"Hard  wading  through  mother's  prayers,"  283, 
284. 

Harker,  Brig.  Gen.,  287. 

HARRIS,  CHARLES,  411,  412 ;  431,  434,  435. 

HARRIS,  MRS.  E.  N.,  15.  10,  30;  42;  179-184. 

Harvey,  Governor,  of  Wisconsin,  74,  75. 

Haskett,  Captain  B.  F.,  85. 

Hastings,  Clara,  348,  349. 

Hatcher's  Run,  304,  305  ;  345  ;  351,  352. 

Hattie's  letter,  in  a  comfort-bag,  4S7. 

HAWES,  REV.  EDWARD,  210,  212-214. 

Hays,  John,  102,  103. 

'•  Head  devil,"  vs.  "  Head  angel,"  52. 

11  Healing  the  sick,"  386. 

Heath,  Lieut.  Col.,  William  S.,  30. 

Heaven,  Bernard's  hymn,  26;  a  country  of 
growth  and  toil,  31:  looking  towards,  42; 
214;  226:  no  home  in  heaven,  62,63;  point 
ing  towards,  71;  from  the  battle-field,  73: 
praying  to  meet  a  child  in  heaven,  130,  131 ; 
the  glory  beyond,  151 :  a  home  and  a  Father 
there.  174  :  heaven  and  perfection,  208,  209  : 
rest,  258:  the  true  home,  240,  241;  414,  415: 
longed  for,  271,  272:  about  forgetting  in 
heaven,  394:  "Going  to  the  front,"  439: 
'•The  heavenly  and  the  earthly  homes,"  457, 
458:  "Are  there  any  black  children  in  hea 
ven  ?"  468  :  "  Wanting  to  go,"  475. 

"•Heaven  down  my  throat,"  146,  147. 

"  Heavenly  treasures,  the,"  482,  483. 

Hefele,  Jonas,  304. 

11  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep,"  304. 

"  He  is  not  here,"  219. 

Helena.  Ark.,  88,  89, 105,  106,  108-110. 

Hell,  in  one's  own  heart,  209. 

"  Helpless  and  hungry,"  254. 

HENRIES,  CHAPLAIN  II.  C.,  54-56. 

Henry  Station  chapel,  345. 

HERBERT,  REV.  C.  1).,  367,  368. 

"  Here  and  now,"  277. 

"Heroes,  Chancellorsville,"  149. 

"  Heroic  mother,  a,"  484. 

HEYDRICK,  E.  M.,  253,  254,  261,  262,  263. 

"Hidden  prayer  meeting,  the,"  112,  113. 

"  Hidden  with  Christ  in  God,"  258,  259. 

"Hiding  behind  Christ,"  212,  213. 

High  bounties,  a  discussion  concerning,  364,  365. 

Hilton  Head,  S.  C.,  469,  470. 

"  Hitting  and  hurting,"  97. 

"  Holding  on  to  Christ,"  219. 

HOT.MES,  REV.  JOHN  M.,  284. 

HOLY  SPIRIT,  striving  with  a  soldier,  55,  56;  205, 
206;  417,418:  His  victory  over  Satan,  340- 
344:  "Working  as  It  wills,"  389-391. 

Home,  "Mother  and  Annie,"  15:  "Sergeant's 
last  halt,"  37-39:  a  mother's  counsels  re 
hearsed,  59,  60;  "Love  makes  death  easy," 


66,  67;  home  recalled  by  the  prayer  meet 
ings,  100, 101 ;  recalled  for  the  benefit  of  gam 
blers,  111,  112:  home  prayers,  139 ;  turning 
back  towards  home,  153,  154;  1G6,  167;  a 
Rebel's  letter  about  the  loss  of  home,  178; 
an  East  Tennessoean's  dreams  of  home,  185- 
189  :  "  Prayer  at  seven,"  202  ;  "  Reflex  work," 
204 :  home  in  Pleasant  Valley  and  in  heaven, 
240:  a  soldier's  letter  leads  to  conversions  at 
home,  262, 263;  recalled,  by  a  rebuke  to  pro 
fanity,  267,  268 :  the  soldiers'  thoughts  ever 
turning  homewards,  294,  295  :  a  Scotchman's 
reminiscences  of  his  youth,  328,  seq. :  power 
of  evil  early  training,  373,  374 :  "  I  have  gone 
home,"  414,  415 ;  the  yearning  to  go  home, 
416 :  "  The  heavenly  and  the  earthly  homes," 
457,  458. 

HOME  SIDE,  the,  chapter  xix. 

"  Honor  that  dishonors,"  324,  325. 

Hood,  General  J.  B.,  a  negro's  speculations  con 
cerning,  424,  425. 

Hopkins,  Surgeon,  115, 116. 

Hospital,  at  Mission  Ridge,  235,  236 :  a  field  hos 
pital  after  Fort  Harrison,  299 ;  at  the  front 
before  Petersburg,  308-311:  extemporized 
flying  hospitals  at  the  battle  of  Nashville, 
427,  431,  432. 

"  Hospital  relieved,  a,"  161,  162. 

HOUGH,  REV.  J.  W.,  372,  373;  400-404. 

Housewife,  used  at  a  grave,  285  :  stories  of  house 
wives  and  comfort-bags,  486-489. 

HOVEY,  REV.  HORACE,  C.,  257,  258,  264,  265. 

"  How  a  great  work  began,"  203. 

Howard,  General  0.  0.,  167,  168 ;  279,  287,  288. 

"  How  a  sailor  came  to  Christ,"  411. 

Howe,  Mrs.  Julia  Ward,  her  Battle  Hymn  of  the 
Republic,  396,  397. 

"  How  potatoes  were  sent  to  Texas,"  440. 

"  How  Sheridan's  men  were  fed,"  383. 

"  How  the  prisoners  came  into  Annapolis,"  412, 
413. 

"  How  to  become  a  Christian,  "  346. 

"  How  to  come  home  safe,"  345. 

"  How  to  fight  best,"  107. 

"  How  we  got  crout  for  Nashville,"  423. 

"How  we  heard  of  Gettysburg  in  Libby,"  395- 
397. 

Humiston,  Amos,  175,  176. 

"Humiston  children,  the,"  175,  176. 

"Hundred  dollars  for  mother,  a,"  301. 

"  Hungry  for  primers,"  361,  362. 

Huntingdon,  Charlie.  490,  491. 

Hymns,  their  influence,  25:  snug  on  Antietam 
battle-field,  42;  how  they  quieted  Govern 
ment  workmen,  52,  and  quelled  a  riot,  56. 
57:  "Leading  to  Christ,"  59;  "Nearer  to 
Thee,"  62;  on  Shiloh  battle-field,  73:  mak 
ing  melody  in  the  heart,  121  ;  in  an  army 
prayer  meeting,  140-142 ;  sung  by  wounded 


INDEX. 


503 


men,  150 ;  sung  in  the  last  hour,  151 ;  258 : 
soldiers'  hymns  on  occasion  of  the  forma 
tion  of  a  "Christian  Union,"  204,  205  :  "The 
lost  hymn  line,"  228:  "The  last  earthly 
hymn,"  438,  439. 

'•  I  AM  DEAD,"  412. 

'  I  am  praying  for  you,"  144, 145. 

'  I  am  to  be  shot  for  defending  my  country."  123. 

'•  I  cannot  read,  sir,"  226. 

'  I  can  pray  that,"  262. 

1  o;norance,  the  Gospel  for,"  67-69. 

'•  I  have  gone  home,"  414,  415. 

'•  I  haven't  done  anything,"  443. 

'•  I  joined  because  so  young  and  strong,"  65. 

'•  I  like  your  name,"  332. 

Illinois  Regiments.  230,  242 ;  407  ;  420  ;  433 :  llth, 
76:  18th,  122:  33d,  58;  116:  83d,  82,  83: 
104th,  392:  113th,  456:  176th,  446:  17th 
Cavalry,  460,  461. 

'•In  chnrch  in  spite  of  himself,"  342,  343. 

Indiana  Regiments,  111,  112;  222;  290;  427: 
37th,  86;  289:  75th,  219:  89th,  444:  7th 
Cavalry,  444. 

Indian's  reserve  broken,  an,"  453. 

lufidel,  testimony  to  Christian  morality,  70 :  a 
skeptical  father  wants  his  son  to  follow  his 
Christian  mother,  406. 

"Influence  of  the  army  meetings,"  201,  202. 

"  Influence  of  a  Loan-Library  book,"  386. 

"  In  season  and  out  of  season,"  244,  245. 

Inspiration,  387. 

"  Instrumental  music,"  69. 

"  In  the  battle  to  the  last,"  30 ;  76,  77. 

"  In  the  Christian's  home  in  glory,"  258. 

"  Into  the  light,"  81. 

« Invincible  love,  the,"  428,  429. 

"  Involuntary  interview  with  General  Sherman, 
an,"  286,  287. 

Iowa  Regiments,  60,  61 ;  108, 112. 

Irishmen,  "  The  difficult  Irishman  conquered," 
20-24 :  an  Irishman's  sacrifice  for  an  enemy, 
42, 43 :  their  good  wishes,  177, 178  :  an  Irish 
man's  blessing,  305. 

"  Ironsides,"  355. 

"  It  brought  me  to  Jesus,"  441-443. 

"It  reads  of  Jesus,"  217. 

"  Its  price  above  rubies,"  353. 

li  It  would  break  my  heart,"  108,  109. 

"  I  want  a  discharge,"  108. 

"I  will,"  118. 

"I  will  try  to  go,"  54-56. 

JACKSONVILLE,  ILL.,  481. 

JACOBS,  B.  F.,  58-60,  62-64;   425,  426,  427,  428, 

429-433;  478-481. 

James'  Anxious  Inquirer  Directed,  128. 
"Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed,"  106,  114. 
"  Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken,"  278. 


'Jesus  is  here,"  321. 

'  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul,"  194, 195 ;  257. 
JEWELL,  REV.  FRANK  F.,  325. 
'  John  Jones  again,"  453,  454. 
'  John  Shearer's  letter,"  105,  106. 
JOHNSON,  REV.  A.  P.,  467,  468. 
JOHNSON,  REV.  HERRICK,  255-257.  • 
Jones,  John,  453,  454. 
Tones,  Joseph,  153. 
Journal,  Boston,  61 ;  248  ;  317. 
Joy,  Christian,  203. 
Judgment,  convicted  by  the  thought  of  God's, 

148. 
"  Just  as  I  am,"  103. 

KANSAS  REGIMENTS,  1st,  112. 
Kearsarge,  gunboat,  470. 
KEENE,  REV.  LUTHER,  191, 192;  489^191. 
"  Keep  it  for  them,"  173, 174. 
Kellogg,  Captain  Henry  M.,  116, 117. 
KELTON,  REV.  W.  H.,  386-388. 
Kenesaw  Mountain,  294. 
Kennebunk,  Me.,  Soldiers'  Aid  Society,  304. 
Kennedy,  Surgeon,  431. 

Kentucky  Regiments,  277,  281,  284 ;  4th,  227- 
KIMBALL,  REV.  JAMES  P.,  249. 
Kindness,  a  little,  154-156;   161,  162:  conquers 
enmity,  177, 178  :  conquers  evil  passions,  385. 
"  Kingdom  that  will  come,  the,"  470. 
Kingston,  Ga.,  286-291. 
KIRKBT,  WILLIAM,  474. 
Knapsack  Books,  one  leads  to  Christ,  79. 
KNOWLES,  REV.  J.  H.,  316. 
Knoxville,  420,  421. 
"  Knuckling  to  the  Lord,"  184. 

LADY  DELEGATES,  445-449,  455,  456,  458-460,  461, 

462 ;  474-476,  479,  480. 
Laird,  David,  166, 167. 
Lamb,  Aaron,  255,  256. 
LANDIS,  REV.  JOHN  L.,  270-272. 
"  Last  earthly  hymn,  the,"  438,  439. 
"  Last  letter,"  16 ;  294. 
"  Last  of  an  offered  life,  the,"  376. 
"  Last  prayer,"  101. 
"  Last  Sunday  at  Culpepper,"  244. 
Last  words  of  soldiers,  74,  85  ;   101 ;   241 ;  280 ; 

393,394;  414,  415,  434. 
LATHROP,  REV.  HENRY  D.,  241. 
"  Latitudinarian,  a,"  279. 
Law.  its  sanctions  and  divine  authority,  387. 
LAWRENCE,  ARTHUR,  276,  285. 
LAWRENCE,  WILLIAM  A.,  269. 
"Lead  Thou  me  on,"  211. 
"  Learning  to  pray,"  136. 
"  Leaven  of  prayer,  the,"  345. 
Lebanon,  Ky.,  82. 
Lebanon,  Ohio,  and  faith,  423. 
"  Lesson  on  plain  English,  a,"  239. 


504 


INDEX. 


Let  mo  call  yon  father,''  335,  336. 
•'  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,"  75,  76. 
Letters,  a  child's  letter  leads  to  Christ,  91-93; 
John  Shearer's,  105,  106;  Captain  Kellogg's 
last  letter  home,  117  :  the  preciousness  of 
home  letters,  192:  writing  for  the  wounded, 
225,  226 :  an  unwritten  letter,  275 ;  the  dying 
letter  to  father,  294,  295 :  Delegates  writing 
for  soldiers,  298 ;  distributing  writing  mate 
rials  in  the  trenches,  313  :  a  letter  rewritten, 
374 :  paper  and  envelopes  distributed  after 
the  Nashville  battles,  434;  a  postscript  about 
prayer,  436, 437  ;  "  Mother's  here,"  438  :  "  The 
two  letters  home,"  444 ;  an  Indian's  letter, 
453:  "Father  to  Lottie,"  485, 486;  "Comfort- 
bag  letters,"  487-4S9 ;  soldiers'  letters  in  an 
swer  to  "  comfort-bag"  notes,  488 ;  "  A  letter 
for  a  Bible,"  490,  491. 

"  Letting  the  spite  go,"  422. 

Lewistown,  Pa.,  487,  488. 

Libby  prison,  394-399. 

"  Library  at  the  front,  a,"  156,  157. 

Life,  owed  to  God,  46 :  saved  by  timely  relief, 
146,  147  :  "  Becomes  real,"  460  ;  wasted,  462, 
463. 

"  Life  saved,  a,"  42,  43. 

••  Light  burning,  the,"  453. 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  receives  a  Commission  sol 
diers'  book,  54  :  his  kindness  of  heart,  89, 
90:  his  address  to  members  of  the  Commis 
sion  about  "thanks,"  246:  his  letter  to  Mrs. 
Bixby,  484,  485. 

Liquor,  noble  refusal  to  "drink,"  121,  122:  its 
temptation  overcome,  127,  128 :  its  evil  con 
sequences,  210;  385. 

"  Little  child  in  the  kingdom,  the,"  210,  211. 

"  Little  Clara's  Bible,"  348,  349. 

"  Little  Lizzie's  letter,"  91-93. 

"Little  Piety,"  59,  60. 

Little  Rock,  457-460. 

LIVERMORE,  REV.  S.  T.,  302. 

"Living  it  into  them,"  323. 

"  Living  waters,"  64. 

Lochleven,  by  Michael  Bruce,  329. 

"  Lock  of  hair,  the,"  175. 

Loneliness,  a  remedy  for,  219,  220. 

"Longed-for  country,  the,"  271,  272. 

"  Longing  for  the  meetings,"  200. 

"  Long  march  in  the  ranks,  a,"  302,  303. 

Loomis,  Lieutenant,  347. 

"  Lord  rising  up  to  judge,  the,"  148. 

"  Lord's  prayer,  the,"  216,  217. 

"  Lord's  supper  under  marching  orders,"  356,  357. 

"  Lost  hymn  line,  the,"  228. 

"  Lost  son  found,  the,"  407,  408. 

Louisville,  221 ;  440. 

Love,  "  Makes  death  easy,"  66,  67  :  Christ's  love, 
the  source  of  courage,  107  ;  for  those  at 
home,  117  ;  the  meaning  of  love  to  Christ, 


118:  love  to  the  brethren,  the  test  of  life, 
207  ;  373 :  in  the  last  hour,  211,  212 :  the  sol 
dier's  yearning  for  paternal  love,  335,  336: 
"The  love  that  could  not  be  told,"  375;  the 
forgotten  love  recalled,  375,  376:  "The  in 
vincible  love,"  428,  429. 

LOVE,  REV.  WILLIAM  DE  Loss,  405-408. 

LOWRIE,  REV.  JOHN  M.,  D.  D.,  301-303. 

"  Loyal  East  Tennesseean,  the,"  185-189. 

LOYD,  REV.  J.  F.,  269. 

Lucille,  by  Monod,  386. 

Lump  sugar,  Jennie  D.'s,  491,  492. 

LYFORD,  REV.  CHARLES  P.,  244-246. 

MAINE  REGIMENTS,  30 ;  255  ;  337  :  378, 394  :  llth, 
254  :  20th,  171. 

"  Major  General  preaching  Christ,  a,"  288. 

"Making  him  smile,"  306. 

"  Making  him  sweat,"  361. 

MANHELL,  REV.  WILLIAM  A.,  345,  346,  349. 

"  Man  immortal  till  his  work  is  done,"  252,  253. 

"  Marching  on,"  255. 

"March  to  Gettysburg,  the."  137.  138. 

MARDEN,  REV.  GEORGE  N.,  154,  155  ;  351,  360,  361, 
362,  363,  364. 

MARLAY,  REV.  JOHN  F.,  422,  423. 

Marsh,  John  B.,  123. 

MARTIN,  JAMES  A.,  474,  475. 

Martinsburg,  383,  384. 

"  Martyr  patriot,  a,"  433,  434. 

Maryland  Heights,  384,  385. 

Maryland  Regiments,  1st,  346,  347. 

Massaclmsetts  Regiments,  22;  133-138,  150;  174, 
175  ;  311 ;  380 :  1st,  152  :  10th,  193  :  12th,  48 : 
22d,  259:  32d,  390:  37th,  370:  45th,  465: 
46th,  466 :  57th,  317  :  Colonel  Shaw's,  col 
ored,  470. 

MATTHEWS,  A.  D.,  190,  191. 

Matthias,  Corporal,  345,  346. 

McArthur,  General,  112;  430,  431. 

McAULEY,  REV.  A.  G.,  85. 

McBEi-n,  Miss  SUE,  445-449,  461.  462. 

McCABE,  CHAPLAIN,  C.  C.,  86  ;  395-899  ;  481. 

McGurk,  Andrew,  76,  77. 

MclLVAiNE,  RT.  REV.  BISHOP,  259. 

McKenna,  David,  317. 

McKim's  Hospital,  Baltimore,  47. 

McKinloy,  Sylvester,  47. 

MCLEAN,  REV.  J.  K.,  337-344. 

McLEOD,  REV.  H.,  291-293:  435,  436;  474. 

Meade  Station,  354,  355. 

"Meeting  of  the  maimed  and  halt,  a,"  153, 154. 

Mementoes,  a  soldier  sends  a  hymn-book  to  his 
wife,  59  ;  194 ;  218  :  "  The  three  photographs," 
290,  291 . 

"  Memorial  Testament,  the,"  400-404. 

Memphis,  106,  107,  118;  443-445,  456,  457,  464; 
479. 

Mercy  of  God,  82 ;  101 ;  274,  275  ;  327  ;  409,  410. 


INDEX. 


505 


"  Messages  for  home,"  168 ;  194 ;  290,  291 ;  414, 
415 ;  435,  436. 

METCALF,  E.  W.,  302. 

Methodist,  Baptist,  or  Presbyterian  ?  279. 

Michigan  Regiments,  130;  166;  211:  285;  336, 
337  ;  414,  435  ;  462  :  1st,  317  :  5th,  315  :  8th, 
322  ;  20th,  263 :  4th  Cavalry,  92,  93  :  5th  Cav 
alry,  144 :  1st  Eng.,  97-99. 

Military  terms,  used  by  soldiers  to  express  their 
spiritual  condition,  82;  107,  108;  213;  223; 
280 ;  333-335  ;  381 :  to  indicate  God's  Word, 
113,  114. 

Milk,  a  hospital  wonder.  223. 

Mill  Creek  Hospital,  26. 

Miller,  Enoch  K.,  160, 161. 

MILLER,  GEORGE  W.,  252,  253. 

MILLER,  J.  R.,  297,  298  ;  383. 

MILLER,  RKV.  VICTOR,  421,  422. 

Milliken's  Bend,  108,  111-113. 

MILNE,  CALEB  J.,  92. 

Milwaukee,  479,  480. 

Mineral  Point,  Wisconsin,  478. 

MINGINS,  RET.  GEORGE  J.,  18-24;  45,46;  146-148. 

'  Ministry  of  a  kind  word,  the,"  385. 

Minnesota  Regiments,  431. 

Minnie  Olive  C.,  her  comfort-bag  letter,  489. 

•'  Minute  Men,"  49. 

•'  Missionary. in  the  ranks,  a,"  392. 

Mission  Ridge,  231-237. 

Mississippi  (Confederate)  Regiments,  347. 

Missouri  Regiments,  439 :  33d,  88. 

Mitch,  Johnny,  227. 

Mitchell,  John  B.,  125, 126. 

"  Money  from  the  Lord,"  422,  423. 

MONFORT,  REV.  P.  P.,  246  ;  317. 

"  Monthly  concert  in  camp,"  204,  205. 

MOODY,  D.  L.,  60,  63,  71,  72;  100. 

Moody,  Colonel  Granville,  84. 

MOORE,  RKV.  J.  II.,  305,  306 ;  371. 

MOREY,  IlAVILAH,  206,  207. 

•'  Morgan  county,  111.,  and  Jacob  Strawn,"'  481- 
483. 

Morganzia,  La.,  452. 

Morin,  Lieutenant  Anthony,  42,  43. 

MORLET,  J.  II.,  205,  206  ;  331. 

MORRIS,  LEWIS,  302. 

MORSS,  REV.  GEORGE  H.,  155, 156. 

Mother,  "  Mother  and  Annie,"  15 ;  mother  giv 
ing  up  a  son,  15, 16 ;  last  letter  to  a  son,  16, 
17  ;  absent,  yet  present,  in  death,  22,  23 ; 
"  'Seems  as  if  mother  had  been  here,"  22 ; 
thanking  God  for  such  a  mother,  27,  28 ; 
praying  that  she  might  be  comforted,  31 : 
her  last  counsels  rehearsed,  59,  60;  "God. 
Country,  Mother,"  74  :  anxiety  changed  into 
gladness,  122 :  "  Take  care  of  the  rest,"  128 ; 
"  Mother's  letter,"  139 :  a  mother's  tender 
ness,  166 ;  a  message  to  her,  167, 168  ;  a  lock 
of  hair  for  her,  175 :  a  mother's  courage, 


190,191:  writing  to  mother  "  gently,"  256 ; 
"A  mother's  trust  and  a  son's,"  265,  266: 
"  Mother's  first  question  answered,"  272 ;  "  I 
have  killed  my  mother,"  274:  "Hard  wad 
ing  through  mother's  prayers,"  283,  284; 
"  The  Bible  and  mother  too,"  295  :  a  hun 
dred-dollar  note  for  mother,  301 :  faith,  319- 
321 :  "  My  mother's  religion,"  351 ;  "  Mother 
taught  me  to  read  it,"  353  :  "  Mother's  here," 
438  :  "  She  won't  pray  for  me  any  more," 
445  :  "  Mother  would  have  given  it,"  478 ; 
"  She  was  a  mother  to  my  boy,"  479,  480 ; 
"  A  heroic  mother,"  484. 

Mound  City,  75,  76. 

Murfreesboro',  93,  95-99 ;  215-217,  241 ;  422. 

"  Mustered  for  pay,"  403. 

"  My  body  is  not  me,"  117. 

"  My  country,  'tis  of  thee,  433. 

"  My  mother's  religion,"  351. 

"  NAMELESS  GRAVES,"  77,  78. 

Nashville,  76,  77,  86;  91-93,  100-104;  217,  218, 
223,  224,  239-241,  242  ;  272-275,  280,  293-295 ; 
415,  416,  419-421,  433-435,  436,  437,  439. 
Siege  and  battle  of,  423^134. 

National  Orphan  Homestead,  176. 

"  Nearer  to  Thee,"  62. 

"  Near  me  all  that  dreadful  day,"  154,  155. 

Nelson,  Rev.  Dr.,  88. 

"Nettie,"  186-189. 

Newberne,  N.  C.,  465. 

New  Hampshire,  Commission  meetings  in,  477, 
478. 

New  Hampshire  Regiments,  7th,  471 :  12th,  149 ; 
18th,  345. 

New  Ironsides,  Admiral  Dupont's  flagship,  469. 

New  Jersey  Regiments,  325,  343  :  9th,  332. 

New  Market  Roads,  303,  304 ;  332,  333,  336,  337. 

"  New  stretcher,  a,"  173. 

New  York  Branch,  128;  464;  chapter  xviii., 
passim. 

New  York  Regiments,  37,  43,  44 ;  334 ;  373,  385 : 
5th,  38:  14th,  247:  77th,  193:  78th,  154: 
94th,  304:  108th,  160:  lllth,  325:  118th, 
319:  146th,  347:  147th,  126:  154th,  176: 
Enfans  Perdus,  25:  5th  Cavalry,  386:  1st 
Mounted  Rifles,  348:  2d  Mounted  Rifles, 
265  :  8th  Artillery,  347. 

NICHOLS,  REV.  CHARLES  L.,  324. 

Nichols,  Stanley,  92,  93. 

"  Nigger,"  a  discussion  about  the,  366,  367. 

"  Noble  to  the  last,"  254. 

"  No  charge  for  letters,"  225. 

"  No  pay,"  51. 

North  Baltimore  Ladies'  Union  Relief  Associa 
tion,  47. 

North  Carolina  (Confederate)  Regiments,  37. 

Northwestern  Sanitary  Commission,  474. 

Norton,  Surgeon,  78,  79. 


506 


INDEX. 


"  Not  a  cloud,"  60,  61. 

"  Not  discharged."  223,  224. 

"  Not  going  home,"  62,  63. 

"  Nothing  in  my  hands  I  bring,"  103. 

"  Not  lonely,"  26. 

"  Not  long  parted,"  80. 

'•  Not  much  in  the  Rebels'  debt,"  314,  315. 

"  Not  much,  sir,"  225. 

'•  Not  quite  so  hard,"  380. 

"  Not  the  prayer  meeting,  but  Jesus,"  270. 

u  Not  the  Rebels'  bad  shooting,"  46. 

'•Not  willing  to  go  alone,"  98. 

"  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep,"  212. 

NOYES,  REV.  G.  C.,  293. 

NOTES,  REV.  H.  V.,  335,  336. 

OBSERVER.  New  York,  49. 

Officers,  devoted  to  his  men,  30 :  sympathy  for 
their  sufferings,  61 ;  regard  for  Sunday,  84 : 
assist  Delegates  in  their  work,  106  :  influence 
in  misleading  their  men,  132:  influence  of 
an  officer's  conversion,  202:  testimony  to  the 
Commission,  430,  431. 

Ohio  Regiments,  82;  100,  123;  234;  271,  292; 
400:  31st,  392,  393:  51st,  85:  60th,  261: 
121st,  395 :  124th,  400  :  12th  Battery,  458. 

"Old  things  become  new,"  333. 

Olustee,  Florida,  471,  472. 

"One  cipher  too  many,"  396. 

"  One  Sunday's  preaching,"  195,  196. 

"  One  taken  and  another  left,"  179. 

"One  Testament  for  thirty  men,"  138. 

Onions,  for  Nashville,  422,  423. 

"  Only  one  verse,"  64. 

"  On  the  right  side  of  the  Old  Master,"  84. 

Opequan,  382,  383. 

Opposition,  of  a  Captain  turned  to  support,  59, 
60 :  of  officers  and  men  to  Christianity,  113. 

"Oranges,"  Carletoirs  distribution  of,  310,311: 
"The  children's  oranges,"  434. 

"Orphan,  the,"  219,  220. 

"  Our  Baby,"  461. 

"  Our  Father."  174. 

"Our  Jubilee  song,"  in  Libby,  396,  397. 

"  Out  of  darkness  into  light,"  69. 

Owasco,  gunboat,  473. 

Owen,  Rev.  Mr.,  249. 

PADUCAH,  KY.,  64-67  ;  435,  436. 

Pardon,  by  President  Lincoln,  89,  90. 

Parish  Visitor,  New  York,  471. 

PARKER,  DR.  S.  J.,  251,  252. 

PARSONS,  REV.  BENJAMIN,  219,  220 ;  399. 

PARSONS,  REV.  E.  G.,  478. 

PARSONS,  J.  H.,  451. 

"Parting  of  the  heroes,  the,"  167,  168. 

PARVIN,  REV.  R.  J.,  44,  45,  54-56;  160, 161,  166, 

167,  171,  172,   173-175;    319-321;    471-473; 

492. 


Pastor's  Sketches,  by  Dr.  Spencer,  417,  418. 

"Patience  of  hope,  the,"  415,  416. 

PATRICK,  REV.  II.  J..  304,  305;  346,  347. 

Patriotism,  Christ's  cause  only  before  the  coun 
try,  85 :  dying  beneath  the  flag,  123  ;  shot 
for  defending  the  country,  123:  a  soldier  of 
1812, 165  ;  an  East  Tennesseean's  devotion  to 
the  Union,  185-189  :  a  young  soldier's  patri 
otism,  227  :  giving  up  sons,  254 ;  in  the  last 
hour,  257;  316;  393,394:  "A  good  cause  to 
be  wounded  in,"  284;  not  sorry  he  enlisted. 
291;  a  gray-haired  soldier,  293:  a  colored 
Sergeant's  patriotism,  364-367  ; "  Volunteered 
to  die,"  368;  "Is  that  a  Rebel  band,  sir?" 
369:  "Too  weak  to  cheer,"  413:  "Rather 
on  crutches  than  a  Copperhead,"  419 ;  "  A 
Christian  hero,"  421;  Henry  Cutler,  433,  434: 
a  heroic  mother,  484. 

PATTERSON,  JOHN, 32-34;  177,178;  266-268;  326- 
331. 

PATTERSON,  REV.  ROBERT,  D.  D.,  64,  65,  67-70,  72, 
73  ;  307  ;  351,  352,  355  ;  410,  411 ;  484. 

Pay,  none  asked  or  taken  by  Delegates,  24 ;  51. 

"  Paying  for  Bible  reading,"  197. 

Peace,  in  death,  85  :  "  Peace  after  prayer,"  152  :  a 
symbol  of  it,  184:  after  a  struggle,  199,  200: 
Christ's  peace  for  the  weary,  258  ;  "  Past  all 
understanding,"  259  ;  "  Within,"  260,  261. 

PEARNE,  REV.  THOMAS  H.,  305. 

PEARSON,  REV.  J.  B.,  202. 

PELOUBET,  REV.  F.  N.,  50-53;  208-211. 

"Penalty  of  Rebellion,  the,"  180. 

Peninsula,  campaign  on  the,  17-34. 

Pennsylvania  Regiments,  47  ;  125,143;  174;  200, 
210;  244;  341,  342;  393,  394:  3d  P.  R.  V.  C., 
32  :  10th  P.  R,  V.  C.,  55  :  llth  P.  R.  V.  C.,' 
202:  57th,  441:  68th,  151:  84th,  153:  90th 
42 :  91st,  300 :  2d  Cavalry,  156,  157  :  15th 
Cavalry,  215:  17th  Cavalry,  199,  205. 

Peoria  Army  Committee,  452;  481. 

Perfection,  the  doctrine  of,  208,  209. 

"  Perfectly  satisfied,"  with  God's  will,  403. 

Perkins,  John,  155,  156. 

PERRY,  REV.  JOHN  B.,  353,  354. 

Perryville,  81-83. 

Petersburg,  mine  explosion  at,  362;  the  victory 
before,  368-370. 

Pews,  in  the  army  and  at  home,  355. 

Piano-playing  in  an  extemporized  flying  hospital, 
432,  433. 

Piety,  a  principle  of  extension,  59,  60. 

Pittsburg  Branch,  418. 

Pittsburg  Landing,  71,  se.rj. 

"  Playing  base  ball,"  313,  314. 

"  Pleading  for  a  Testament,"  352. 

Point  of  Rocks,  297  ;  326,  335,  348,  349. 

"  Poor  Little  Rob's  asleep,"  31. 

Porter,  B.  F.,  347. 

PORTER,  II.  L.,  347. 


INDEX. 


507 


PORTER,  REV.  JEREMIAH,  440 ;  474-476. 

Port  Society  of  New  York,  470. 

Posey,  John,  65. 

Post,  New  York,  65. 

"  Postscript,  the,"  167. 

Potatoes,  how  they  were  sent  to  Texas,  440. 

Potomac  Creek  Station,  153, 154. 

Potter,  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop,  152;  472. 

Powels,  Peter,  453. 

•'  Power  of  God  blessing,  a,"  307. 

PRATT,  REV.  A.  L.,  337. 

Prayer,  in  presence  of  comrades,  13, 14;  shielded 
by  a  wife's  prayers,  15  ;  in  a  bomb-proof,  17  ; 
with  thanksgiving,  27,  28:   bringing  happi 
ness,  40;    causes  peace,  52:   wanting  to  be 
taught  one,  67-69;   "The  prayer  of  faith," 
78,  79;  for  salvation,  81  ;  neglected,  leading 
to  backsliding,  87  :  when  one  may  pray  with 
thanksgiving,  95,  96;  the  last  prayer,  101: 
learning  how  to  pray,  136 ;  prayer  at  home, 
139 ;    a  dead    mother's    prayers,  144,  145 ; 
"After   sudden   visitation,"   152:    a   child's 
prayer  for  a  father,  169;   a  strange  prayer, 
184;   the  Collect  for  the  second  Sunday  in 
Lent,  187:  a  wife's  pi-ayers  discovered,  198- 
200  ;  "  At  seven,"  202 ;  the  origin  of  a  revi 
val,  203;   "For  blessing,"  204;   the  child's, 
211,  212;  the  remedy  for  not  being  a  Chris 
tian,  213:  prayer  for  one's  self,  216;  for  ene 
mies,  218  :    the   prayer  for  rest  answered ; 
256:  the  prayer  to  be  with  Jesus,  257;    "I 
can  pray  that,"  262:    "The  Surgeon's  first 
prayer,"  '281 ;  "  Hard  wading  through  moth 
er's  prayers,"  283,  284 :  the  duty  of  not  con 
cealing  prayer,  331;  its  leaven,  345:  "Pray 
for  thine  enemies,"  370 ;  409,  410  :  the  Swede's 
prayer,  385  ;    two  comrades  pray  together, 
390 :  "  Give  me  a  prayer,"  410 :  its  sweetness 
amidst  pains,  427,  428:    prayer  by  a  grave 
during  the  battle  of  Nashville,  430;    "The 
arch  of  prayer,"  436,  437  :  "  She  won't  pray 
for  me  anymore,"  445:   "The  wife's  pray 
ers,"  448,  449 :    "  The  three  petitions,"  466 : 
on  the  gunboat  Daylight,  469 ;  on  the  New 
Ironsides,  469 ;  the  first  and  last  thought,  473. 
Prayer  meeting,  John  Waugh's  resolve  told,  55, 
56:  the  concealed  Sergeant,  69  ;  vs.  fiddling 
and  dancing,  69,  70 :  in  Nashville,  100,  101 ; 
hidden,  112,  113:    testimonies  in   a  prayer 
meeting,  131, 132;  an  army  prayer  meeting 
described,  139-142;    at  Camp  Convalescent, 
146-148  ;  of  the  maimed  and  halt,  153,  154: 
growth,  199 :  in  a  wagon  train  of  wounded, 
229 ;  at  Chattanooga  after  Chickamauga,  230, 
231 :    of  Delegates   in   Fredericksburg,  250, 
251 :  on  the  railroad  track,  270;  it  supplants 
cards,   '277;    "At  the   front   in   the   prayer 
meeting,"  281 :   at   Cavalry  Depot,  340,  344  : 
at  Quinnipiac  chapel,  355  ;  the  last  meetings 


at  the  Sixth  Corps  chapel,  356,  357  ;  at  Camp 
Distribution,  374,  375 ;  voting  for  one,  382 ; 
the  soldiers'  own,  390;  first  at  Provisional 
Camp,  390,  391 ;  on  the  "  Great  March,"  391, 
392 ;  "  Dying  close  to  the  prayer  meeting," 
392 ;  "  Curious,  angry,  convicted,"  392,  393  : 
in  Andersonville  at  night,  399  ;  in  Ander- 
sonville,  408,  409 ;  crawling  and  being  car 
ried  to  the  prayer  meeting,  409;  at  Annapo 
lis,  among  returned  prisoners,  410,  411 :  a 
Scotchman's  experience,  422;  on  Sunday 
morning  after  the  Nashville  battles,  432, 
433 :  evening  meetings  at  Vicksburg,  449, 
450 ;  asking  to  go  to  prayer  meeting,  459, 
460 ;  in  prison,  460. 

"Praying  drum  corps,  a,"  201. 

Preaching,  vs.  "  Practising,"  119 :  while  wounded, 
164 :  "  One  Sunday's  preaching,"  195,  196 ; 
despised,  yet  convicting,  199 :  before  enter 
ing  the  Wilderness,  244,  245:  "A  Major 
General  preaching  Christ,"  288:  a  five-min 
ute  sermon,  381;  "Drilling  for  Jesus,"  381, 
382  ;  the  sermon-book  in  a  crmrchyard,  387, 
388:  in  Andersonville,  408,409:  "A  battery 
silenced  for  a  Sunday  service,"  426. 

"  Precious  Christ,  the,"  379. 

"  Preparing  to  enlist,"  134-137. 

Presbyterian,  Philadelphia,  32. 

PRISONERS  IN  THE  SOUTH,  THE,  chapter  xv. 

"  Prisoners'  prayer  meeting,  a,"  410,  411. 

Profanity,  how  a  regiment  was  freed  from  it,  88 : 
as  against  mules  and  men,  206,  207  :  replaced 
by  blessing,  307:  "At  home  and  in  the 
army,"  339. 

"  Promoted  to  die,"  316. 

"Protestant  school  in  Brownsville,  a,"  476. 

Provisional  Camp,  Alexandria,  388-393. 

Pnlford,  Colonel,  315. 

Pulpits,  in  the  army,  196. 

"  QUESTIONING  GENERAL  GRANT,"  359. 
QUIMBY,  PROFESSOR,  E.  T.,  477. 
Quinnipiac  Tabernacle,  307  ;  355. 

"  RALLY  ROUND  THE  FLAG,  BOYS,"  316. 
Rand,  E.  A.,  265,  266. 
Rappahannock  Station,  193-195. 
Raymond,  Chaplain,  279. 
"  Ready  to  die,"  93,  94. 
Realization  of  faith,  119, 120. 
Rebellion,  its  penalty,  180, 181. 
"Rebel's  comfort-bag,  the,"  178. 
"  Reconnoissance  in  force,  a,"  338. 
Record,  Bible  Society,  50  ;  217,  221. 
"  Record  of  an  inner  strife,  the,"  417,  418. 
Recorder,  Boston,  140. 
Red  River  expedition,  449. 

Reed,  Inspector,  of  U.  S.  Sanitary  Commission, 
23;  76,77. 


508 


INDEX. 


REED,  REV.  ALEXANDER,  49. 

REED,  DR.  WILLIAM  A.,  251,  252. 

"  Reflex  work,"  204. 

Regular  army  Regiments,  17th  Infantry,  170: 
19th,  399 :  1st  U.  S.  V.  V.,  387. 

Reid,  William,  473,  474. 

"  Reign  of  Divine  law,  the,"  387,  388. 

"  Religion  and  Hygiene,"  452. 

Religions  muling,  rejecting  it,  53,  54 ;  87  :  helping 
to  Christ,  155  ;  soldiers'  desire  for  it,  156, 
157:  relative  merits  of  tracts  and  Testa 
ments,  208 :  distributing  religious  newspa 
pers  in  the  trenches,  312:  Baxter's  Call  read, 
372,  373 :  Dr.  Spencer's  Pastor's  Sketches,  417, 
418 :  "  Crying  out  of  pain  for  a  Saviour," 
454,  455. 

"  Remedy,  the,"  213. 

"  Removed  above,"  324. 

Repentance,  it  must  be  from  the  heart,  99 :  its 
day  past,  133,  134:  refusing.it,  324,  325. 

"  Reported  for  duty  and  under  orders,"  333-335. 

Resaca,  282-286. 

Reserve,  overcome,  256 ;  453. 

Resignation,  179  ;  289,  291,  292 ;  320,  321. 

"  Rest  for  the  weary,"  261. 

"  Restless  night,  the,"  52. 

"  Rest  of  God,  the,"  255. 

Returned  prisoners,  at  Annapolis,  404-413. 

Revival,  general  in  Army  of  Potomac  during 
the  Winter  of  1863-64,  196;  at  Bristow  Sta 
tion,  202-204:  in  Fredericksburg  hospitals 
after  the  Wilderness,  251 :  at  Ringgold  and 
Cleveland,  276-281 :  the  beginning,  hin 
drances  and  victory  of  the  revival  at  Cav 
alry  Depot,  337-344:  at  Provisional  Camp, 
388-393  :  "  The  germ  of  a  revival,"  460,  461. 

"Rewritten  letter,  the,"  374. 

REYNOLDS,  WILLIAM,  108-113 ;  277-279,  281 ;  481- 
484. 

Rhode  Island  Regiments,  144. 

Rice,  Colonel  (General),  James  C.,  37-39  ;  247, 248. 

Rice,  Colonel  Samuel,  113. 

RICHARDS,  C.  II.,  311-314  ;  323. 

Richardson,  C.  A.,  116. 

Richardson,  Surgeon,  300. 

Rickets,  Emanuel,  475. 

Right,  ever  the  same,  121,  122. 

"  Right  name  among  the  people  of  God,"  322,  323. 

Ringgold,  276-279,  281. 

"  Riot  quelled  by  the  cross,"  56,  57. 

Robinson,  Rev.  Mr.,  80. 

"Rock  of  Ages,"  25,  26;  211;  258,  259. 

Rockwell,  Charles,  198-200. 

"Rolling  Chaplain,  a,"  164. 

Roman  Catholic  exclusiveness  overcome,  168, 169. 

SACRIFICE,  for  the  country,  15, 16 ;  86 :  a  mother's 
128,129;  320,321:  by  soldiers,  173,  174;  234; 
life  given  for  a  neighbor,  242 :  "  Willing  to 


give  up  all,"  254;  in  death,  254 ;  "  Willing  to 
go  through  again,"  254,  255  ;  a  family  sacri 
fice,  255  ;  all  but  life,  and  ready  to  give  that, 
259 ;  willing  to  give  up,  if  only  a  child  of 
God,  265,  266  :  "  An  American  Bayard,"  285 : 
faith  in  God  prepares  for  sacrifice,  322: 
"  Trading  crutches,"  419 :  "  Dying  that  oth 
ers  might  live,"  466,  467  :  at  home  as  well 
as  at  the  war,  477  ;  "  Captain  Weston's  hand 
kerchief,"  477  ;  478 ;  by  a  wife,  and  by  a 
widow,  478;  Mrs.  Bixby's  oifering  of  five 
sons,  484,  485. 

Safety,  in  God's  care,  96,  97. 

"  Sailor  hero,  a,"  473,  474. 

Sailor's  Creek,  370. 

St.  Louis,  88  ;  445-449,  461-463. 

St.  Louis  Army  Committee,  74:  106,  118;  443, 
445 ;  463,  464. 

Salvation,  making  the  way  simple,  67-69;  the 
soldiers'  cry  for  it,  81 :  the  prayer  for  salva 
tion,  101  ;  its  freedom  and  fulness,  102,  103: 
it  consists  in  belonging  to  Christ,  133, 134 ; 
238  :  "  To  the  uttermost,"  274. 

Sangden,  John,  384. 

SAVAGE,  REV.  G.  S.  F.,  60,  61. 

Savage's  Station,  30,  31. 

"  Savant  in  the  ranks,  a."  378,  379. 

"  Saved  for  just  nothing  at  all,"  102,  103. 

"Saved  life,  a,"  160,  161. 

"  Saving  a  life,"  246. 

"  Saving  lump-sugar,"  491,  492. 

"Say,  brothers,  will  you  meet  us?"  56,  57;  356. 

"  Scene  by  a  Roman  Catholic  altar,"  169. 

SCHAFF,  REV.  DR.  PHILIP,  299. 

Schaub,  Philip,  77. 

SCHILLING,  REV.  I.  S.,  302. 

Schneider,  Edward  M.,  317-319. 

Schofleld,  General,  426. 

SCOTT,  G.  W.  R.,  437-439. 

Scott,  Lizzie,  91-93. 

"  Scouting  party,  the,"  44,  45. 

Scribner,  Colonel,  220. 

Scripture,  only  one  verse,  64 ;  "  Dew-drops  for 
rations,"  64;  "Written  down,"  68,  69:  dis 
tribution  in  Potomac  Army,  138,  139,  142; 
men  eager  for  it,  142,  143:  reading,  216; 
distribution  in  Cumberland  Army,  217,  220, 
221:  "portions"  of  the  British  and  Foreign 
Bible  Society,  443.  See  BIBLE,  TESTAMENT. 

Sectarianism,  how  affected  by  Christian  com 
munion  in  the  army  201. 

"Self-forgetfulness."  284;  443. 

"  Sergeant's  determination,  the,"  455,  456. 

"Sergeant'8  last  halt,  the,"  37-39. 

"  Service  at  headquarters  in  the  woods,"  287, 288. 

" Services  on  the  Kearsarge"  470. 

SEVERANCE,  REV.  M.  L.,  373. 

"  Sharing  dainties,"  47. 

Shay,  John  II.,  392. 


INDEX. 


509 


Shephard,  Professor,  475. 

SHEPPARD,  THOMAS  J.,  399,  400. 

Sherman,  Major  General,  an  involuntary  inter 
view,  286,  287. 

"  Sherman's  march  to  the  sea,"  prayer  meetings 
during,  391,  392. 

''  She  was  a  mother  to  my  boy,"  479,  480. 

"  She  won't  pray  for  me  any  more,"  445. 

"  Shielded  by  prayer,"  15. 

Shiloh,  see  PITTSBURG  LANDING. 

"  Shining  shore,  the,"  261. 

Shipman,  A.  M.,  123.. 

"  Short  cut  to  glory,  ^'  247. 

"  Shortened  leave  of  absence,  the,"  315. 

"  Shorter  Catechism  vs.  swearing,"  266-268. 

"  Short  sermon,  a,"  381. 

"  Shying  up  cards."  69,  70. 

Sickness,  cured  by  faith,  119, 120;  386. 

Silent  Comforter,  in  Atlanta  hospital,  295. 

Sin,  repentance  is  more  than  forsaking  it,  99; 
rebuked  in  a  stronghold,  111:  "Known  by 
the  Law,"  135, 136 :  the  war  of  the  flesh  and 
of  the  Spirit,  191,  192;  vs.  perfection,  208, 
209;  "  Hard  on  sinners,"  213. 

Sinner,  not  too  great,  a,  71,  72,  87. 

Sister,  remembered  in  the  army,  16;  100:  at  a 
brother's  death-bed,  37-39 :  "  Finds  a  brother 
in  Christ,"  266:  extracting  comfort  from 
"me  brother's  book,"  272,  273. 

Sixth  Corps  Station  Chapel,  356. 

"  Skeptic  and  his  son,  the,"  406, 407. 

Sleeping  at  his  post,  420,  421. 

SLOAN,  REV.  I.  OLIVER,  48 ;  150. 

Smay,  Albert,  348,  349. 

SMITH,  REV.  E.  P.,  91,  95-99,  119-122;  129-139; 
215-218,  221,  223,  224,  228-237,  242;  269,  270, 
272-275,  276,  277,  278-280,  281,  286-291,  293- 
295;  333-335,349,  350;  364-367;  394;  419- 
421, 426,  427,  428,  429, 439 ;  462, 463 ;  486,  487. 

Smith,  General  A.  J.,  "  A  cup  of  coffee  for,"  430 ; 
his  testimony  to  the  Commission,  431. 

SMITH,  REV.  GEORGE  MURE,  201. 

Smith,  Henry  C.,  322. 

SMITH,  REV.  J.  WHEATON,  D.  D.,  254,  255. 

Snyder,  Willie,  271. 

"  Soiled  Testament,  the,"  347. 

"Soldier's  Amen,  the,"  125,  126. 

"  Soldier's  breakfast,  the,"  155, 156. 

Soldiers'  Prayer-book;  152. 

"  Soldier's  presentiment,  the,"  117. 

"  Soldiers'  tea-party,  the,"  222,  223. 

"  Soldier's  testimony,  the,"  483. 

"Songs  on  the  battle-field,"  42;  72,  73. 

Sorrow,  for  sin,  99;  "Turned  into  joy,"  103, 104. 

"Source  of  courage,  the,"  336,  337. 

South  Mountain,  41. 

Sparta,  Wisconsin.  483,  484. 

"  Speaking  Testament,  the,"  50. 

"  Speaking  with  tongues,"  241 ;  385. 


"  Speak  to  me  of  Jesus,"  257. 

"  Speechless,"  413. 

Sperryville  Pike  Station,  198-200,  205,  206. 

"  Spirit's  secret  work,  the,"  343,  344. 

"  Spirit  working  as  It  wills,  the,"  389-391. 

Spottsylvania  C.  H.,  247,  248. 

"  Stand  by  the  flag  and  the  cross,"  318,  319. 

"  Star  of  Bethlehem,  the,"  225. 

Station,  description  of  that  at  WThite  House,  32- 
34: — at  Potomac  creek,  153:  the  rooms  in 
Fredericksburg,  after  the  Wilderness,  250, 
251. 

STEARNS,  J.  N.,  488,  489. 

Stephenson's  Station,  385,  386. 

Stevens,  Jesse,  152. 

Stevenson,  222,  223. 

STILLSON,  J.  B.,  161,  164,  165, 178, 179. 

STOCKWELL,  REV.  G.  S.,  197. 

STOEVER,  PROFESSOR,  M.  L.,  167-169. 

Stone,  Rev.  Dr.,  A.  L.,  465,  466. 

Stone  River  battles,  85,  seq. :  220. 

STORER,  JUDGE  BELLAMY,  436. 

"  Story  of  James  Anderson,  the,"  326-331. 

Strawn,  Jacob,  481-483. 

Streight,  Colonel,  397,  398. 

"  Strife  of  the  Spirit,  the,"  205,  206. 

STUART,  GEORGE  II.,  53,  54 ;  151,  152 ;  169,  170 ; 
259;  484. 

Substitute,  at  the  grave  of  a,  242 :  "  The  Substi 
tute,"  447. 

"Such  bread!"  51. 

Sunday,  Commodore  Foote's  Order,  No.  6,  61,  62; 
General  Crittenden's  advice  before  Stone 
River,  84:  before  Petersburg,  in  the  hospitals 
at  the  front,  309-311:  "Can't  keep  track 
of  Sunday,"  379 :  "  Sunday  morning  prayer 
meeting  after  the  battle  of  Nashville,"432, 
433. 

Sunday-school,  soldiers'  religious  training  due 
to  them,  47 :  teaching  in  the  army,  98 ;  the 
teacher's  rank,  105  ;  171,  172 :  proportion 
of  soldiers  who  had  been  Sunday-school 
scholars,  346:  comfort-bags  from  scholars 
in  Albany,  486,  487. 

Sunday  School  Times,  13, 14 ;  311 ;  469 ;  489. 

"  Sun-shades,"  162. 

Surgeon,  why  he  should  be  a  Christian,  281: 
serving  a  Delegate  in  a  hospital,  431;  "A 
Surgeon's  want,"  434,  435. 

Swearing,  "  For  a  regiment,"  88  :  influence  of  an 
officer's  swearing,  132;  how  a  soldier  was 
cured,  135,  136:  "In  its  theory  and  prac 
tice,"  206,  207  :  reproved  by  the  Shorter  Cat 
echism,  266-268:  swearing  at  horses,  339: 
"Not  quite  so  hard,"  380.  Sre  PROFANITY. 

Swede,  in  Mount  Pleasant  Hospital,  Washing 
ton,  378,  379 ;  at  Maryland  Heights,  384,  385. 

"  Sweetest  Name,  the,"  150. 

"  Sweetness  of  prayer  amidst  pains,  the,"  427, 428. 


510 


INDEX. 


"  Sweet  was  the  time  when  first  I  felt,"  228. 
"  Symbol  of  peace,  a,"  184. 
Sympathy,  its  value,  304,  306. 

TADE,  REV.  EWING  0.,  456,  457. 

"  Take  care  of  the  rest,"  128,  129. 

Taylor,  Rev.  Dr.  J.  W.  11.,  15. 

TAYLOR,  REV.  W.  G.,  321. 

TAYLOR,  REV.  WILLIAM  M.,  201 ;  227. 

Tea  and  Toast,  222,  223. 

"  Teamster-distributors,  the,"  144. 

TEARNE,  WALTER,  420. 

"Tell  me  just  what  to  do,"  379,  380. 

Temperance,  its  grounds,  121,  122. 

Temptation,  strife  with  and  victory  over,  127, 128. 

Tennessee  Regiments;  Confederate,  67,68;  185- 
189 ;  232 :  Union,  95,  293 :  5th  Cavalry,  417, 
418. 

"  Teny,"  489. 

Testament,  a  companion,  26;  saves  life,  32: 
"  Best  way  to  thank  you."  37 ;  a  dying  pil 
low,  47  ;  ';  William  Glover's,"  49,  50 ;  "  The 
speaking  Testament,"  50 :  "Gen.  Fisk's  tac 
tics,"  113,  114:  the  wife's  letter  in  the  un 
read  Testament,  133;  distribution  in  Poto 
mac  Army,  138,  139,  142 ;  '•  Testaments  and 
cards,"  138  ;  one  for  thirty  men,  138 ;  "  Dis 
tribution,"  142-144;  "Unread."  143;  mak 
ing  dark  days  happy,  150 :  "  The  Loyal  East 
Tennesseean,"  185-189:  "  vs.  Tracts,"  208: 
precious  because  telling  of  Jesus,  217,  218; 
teaching  forgiveness,  218 ;  "  A  lost  Testa 
ment,"  225;  read  for  one  who  could  not 
read,  226 ;  conversation  by  means  of  a  Dan 
ish  Testament,  241 :  how  the  veterans  left 
them  at  home,  when  furloughed,  272 :  distri 
bution  in  the  trenches,  312,  313  :  "  A  soiled 
Testament,"  347  ;  the  Testament  on  the  sol 
dier's  breast,  349  :  opening  a  box,  351,  352  : 
a  child's  Testament  for  a  courageous  soldier, 
377,  378 :  Charles  B.  Chapin's  Testament,  a 
memorial  of  Andersonville,  401-404:  loving 
to  read  it,  434,  435:  "It  brought  me  to 
Jesus,"  442 ;  the  large  print  Testament,  443  : 
carried  into  battle,  472. 

Testimony,  last  words  concerning  a  Testament 
and  Hymn-book,  59  :  "  By  proxy,"  131 ;  in  an 
army  prayer  meeting,  140-142 :  "  At  Camp 
Convalescent,"  207,  208  :  at  Tullahoma,  219 : 
a  German's  Testimony  to  the  Commission, 
246:— General  A.  J.  Smith's,  430,  431 ;— a 
Surgeon's,  432 :  of  reconsecration,  450 :  a 
soldier's  testimony  at  a  Commission  meet 
ing,  483. 

Texas,  Commission  work  in,  474-476. 

"Thank  God  for  such  a  mother,"  27,  28. 

"  Thank  Him  first,"  95. 

"  Thanking  God  for  wounds,"  80. 

Thanks,  "  Best  way  to  thank  you,"  37  :  oefore 


prayer,  95.  96;  for  the  fulness  of  salvation, 
102,  103:  "To  God,  not  to  me,"  181,  182: 
"Thanksgiving"  after  Mission  Ridge,  237: 
for  a  letter  written,  298  ;  for  oranges,  310, 
311 ;  that  could  not  be  told,  375 :  for  deliv 
erance  from  bondage,  410,  411. 

"That's  me,"  27. 

THAYER,  C.  C.,  457,  458. 

THAYER,  REV.  P.  B.,  383,  384. 

"Theology  of  repentance,  the,"  99. 

"  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood,"  211;  278. 

THOMAS,  CHAPLAIN,  J.  C.,  82,  «3  ;  93,  94 ;  237,  238 ; 
491,  492.  f 

THOMAS,  LUDLOW,  298. 

THOMAS,  REV.  S.  W.,  44. 

Thompson,  J.  P.,  271. 

THOMPSON,  REV.  DR.,  J.  P..  283-285. 

"  Thou  art  with  me,"  85. 

"  Though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live,"  435, 
436. 

"  Three  letters,  the,"  292. 

'•  Three  petitions,  the,"  466. 

"  Three  photographs,  the,"  290,  291. 

"  Three  unimproved  years,"  394. 

"Till  Pa  comes  home,"  110. 

Tilson,  N.  Holmes,  407. 

Tobacco,  its  effect  on  a  conversation,  458. 

Todd,  John,  88,  89. 

"  Together,"  271. 

"Toilsome  march,  a,"  264,  265. 

"  Too  late,"  133, 134. 

"  Too  weak  to  cheer,"  413. 

"Torn  Prayer-book,  the,"  151,  152. 

"  Towards  the  enemy,"  247,  248. 

Tracts,  soldiers  acting  as  distributors,  33:  one 
leads  a  soldier  to  Christ,  54-56:  "Among 
the  letters,"  77 :  when  needed  and  when 
not,  442 ;  distribution  at  Schofield  Barracks, 
447  :  Past  sins,  471. 

"  Trading  crutches,"  419. 

"  Transformed  life,  the,"  198-200. 

"Trio  of  good  wishes,  a,"  177,  178. 

Trenches,  work  before  Petersburg  in  them,  308- 
314. 

Trouble,  how  a  soldier  was  not  in  trouble,  95, 96; 
how  faith  conquers  it,  119,  120. 

Trust,  in  Christ,  45;  213:  in  God's  truth,  66,  67. 

Tullahoma,  218,  219;  416-418,  438,  439. 

Turkey,  a  soldier  converted  in,  467,  468. 

Tumor,  Commodore,  469. 

TuxiiUET,  REV.  FRANKLIN,  145,  146. 

"  Two  letters  home,  the,"  444. 

"Two  voices,  the,"  191, 192. 

"  Tying  a  soldier's  shoes,"  162. 

"  UNCLE  READIN'  FOR  HISSKLF,"  451. 
"  Unconscious  influence,"  145,  146. 
Uniac,  E.  H.,  490,  491. 
"Union,"  not  "Confederate,"  1S5-189 


INDEX. 


511 


UNITED  STATES  CHRISTIAN  COMMISSION,  its  Anni 
versaries  at  Washington,  1864,  53 :  1865,  89, 
90 ;  254 :  1866,  26 ;  73 ;  161 ;  255 :  Anniversary 
of  1865  at  Philadelphia,  105 ;  224. 

United  States  Sanitary  Commission,  Incidents 
related  by  Inspector  Reed,  23 ;  76. 

"  Unity  of  the  Church,  the,"  168,  169. 

"  Unknown  tongue  interpreted,  the,"  385. 

"  Unquenchable  thirst,"  245. 

"  Unspoken  words,"  290. 

"  Unwritten  letter,  the,"  275. 

Upcheer,  Joseph,  360. 

Urmston,  S.  L.,  456,  457. 

VAN  METER,  REV.  W.  C.,  123. 

Van  Tine,  William,  414. 

Vengeance,  with  God,  365-367. 

Vermont  Regiments,  324:  1st  Cavalry,  401. 

Vicksburg,  115-124;  399;  449-451,455,456. 

"  Victory  amidst  wretchedness,"  173. 

"Victory,"  the  evening  when  Petersburg  fell, 
368,  369. 

Vinton,  Rev.  R.  Spencer,  47. 

"  Volunteered  to  die,"  367,  368. 

"  Volunteer  Surgeon's  work,  a,"  251,  252. 

Vows,  made  in  Salisbury,  to  be  redeemed  at  An 
napolis,  411. 

WADDLE,  REV.  BENJAMIN,  201. 

Wagner,  John,  261. 

"Wagon  prayer  meeting,  the,"  229. 

"  Waiting  to  join  in  the  one  new  song,"  467,  468. 

Walcott,  Lieut.  William  Henry,  170. 

Waldon's  Ridge,  228,  229. 

Walker,  Katie,  490,  491. 

WALLACE,  REV.  C.  W.,  D.  D.,  373,  374. 

"  Wanting  to  go,"  475. 

War,  God  in  the,  360. 

Warren,  Charles,  150. 

Warren  Station  Chapel,  353,  354. 

Warrenton,  36;  202,  206,  207. 

Warrenton  Junction,  201,  202. 

"  Washed  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,"  468. 

Washington,  15, 17  ;  37-40,  51,  53,  54;  145,  146; 
191,  192;  372-382;  393,394. 

Washington,  N.  C.,  466,  467. 

"  Waters  at  home  and  above,  the,"  239-241. 

Waugh,  John,  55,  56. 

"We  don't  mind  our  soaking,"  174. 

"  Wee  letters,"  489. 

Weldon  railroad,  302,  303,  315,  316. 

"  We  shall  pray  for  you  at  seven,"  202. 

WESTERN  ARMIES,  chapters  iii.,  iv.,  viii.,  x.,  xvi., 
xvii.  Short  summaries  of  army  movements, 
58,  60,  61, 70,  71,  80,  81,  83,  84 ;  104 ;  215,  221, 
222,  231 ;  269,  282,  283;  423-425;  441. 

"  Wet  meeting,  a,"  391,  392. 

WEYMAN,  WILLIAM  P.,  418. 

"  What  can  I  do?"  273-275. 


"  What  is  right,  is  right,"  120-122. 

"  What  is  your  name?"  225. 

"  What  one  soldier  could  do,"  331,  332. 

"  What  right  have  I?"  372,  373. 

"  What  the  soldiers  deserve,"  492. 

"  When  I  can  read  my  title  clear,"  73 ;  288. 

"  Where's  Papa  ? "  130, 131. 

White  House  Landing,  31,  32-34 ;  265,  266. 

Whiten,  John  C.,  368. 

Whitmore,  Peter,  336,  337. 

WHITNEY,  D.  C.  H.,  344. 

WHITNEY,  H.  M.,  377-379. 

WHITNEY,  REV.  NELSON,  252. 

Whittlesey,  Major,  150. 

"  Whole  Bible  sought  for,  the,"  221. 

"Who'll  be  my  Pa?"  325. 

"  Why  Mr.  Maloney  gave  five  dollars,"  479. 

"  Why  not  complain  ?"  51. 

"  Why  the  war  came,"  360. 

"  Widow's  mite,  a,"  478. 

Wife,  touching  letter  from  a,  77 :  sorrow  turned 
into  joy,  103, 104 ;  letter  to  a  husband,  105, 
106;  pleading  for  her  husband's  better  life, 
109, 110 :  a  wife's  letter  about  a  child's  death, 
130,  131 ;  a  wife's  letter  in  the  unread  Bible, 
133:  a  wife  discovered  by  a  ferrotype,  175, 
176:  disappointment  by  death,  325,  326: 
praying  no  longer  alone,  436,  437:  "The 
wife's  prayers,"  448,  449  :  sorrow  and  resig 
nation,  472,  473. 

Wilderness,  the,  243-246 ;  362 ;  483. 

Wild's  Station,  357,  361. 

"  Will  he  talk  to  God,  as  he  used  to?"  404. 

William  Glover's  Testament,"  49,  50. 

Williams,  Captain  William  Fitz,  265. 

WILLIAMS,  REV.  E.  F.,  142-144, 151, 156-158  ;  163 ; 
193,  197-200,  201-204,  207,  208  ;  244,  247,  248, 
254 ;  297, 298, 315, 316 ;  332, 333, 345  ;  358-360 ; 
381,  382. 

Williamsburg,  27,  28. 

Williams  College  Alumni  Address,  Demond,  29 ; 
45,46;  177. 

"Willing  to  give  up  all,"  254. 

Williston,  Vermont,  400,  401. 

"Will  you  enlist?"  208. 

"Will  you  go?"  54-56. 

Wilmarth,  — ,  441,  442. 

Winchester,  Tennessee,  219,  220. 

Winchester,  Virginia,  383,  386-388. 

Windmill  Point  Hospital,  125-129, 132-134. 

Winslow,  Captain,  470. 

Wisconsin  Regiments,  261 ;  279 ;  14th,  74 :  16th, 
452. 

"  With  us  and  against  us,"  70. 

"  Won't  you  teach  me  a  prayer?"  67-69. 

Wood,  General,  426. 

Wood,  Lieutenant,  394. 

WOOD,  REV.  ABEL,  322. 

"  Word  of  sympathy,  a,"  304. 


512 


INDEX. 


"  Work  on  behalf  of  military  prisoners,"  460, 
461. 

"  Worse  off  nor  I,"  43,  44. 

Wounded,  relieving  those  at  Fairfax  Station,  36 ; 
forgetting  wounds  in  Christ  and  prayer,  40; 
hymn-singing,  42 ;  saved  from  death  by  Dele 
gates,  42,  43  ;  100,  161:  neglected  after  An- 
tietam,  44,  45  ;  destitution  after  Fredericks- 
burg,  51 :  the  prayer  of  faith  saves  life,  78, 
79;  thanking  God  for  wounds,  80;  farewell 
to  an  amputated  arm,  86:  unmurmuring 
suffering,  115,  116:  suspense  before  relief, 
147;  after  Chancellorsville,  149;  anticipat 
ing  and  attending  them,  157,  158:  ''The 
rolling  Chaplain,"  164;  a  suffering  and  an 
active  volunteer,  166 ;  wounded  in  the  back, 
166 ;  the  thought  of  Christ's  sufferings  a  sup 
port,  170 ;  Confederate  father  and  son,  179 ; 
"  The  penalty  of  Rebellion,"  180-182 :  desiring 
to  be  prayed  for,  224 ;  "  Not  much,  sir,"  225  ; 
a  wagon-train  of  wounded,  229 ;  "  Latin 
scholar,"  234;  hospital  on  top  of  Mission 
Ridge,  235,  236:  who  could  not  be  relieved, 
245,  246 ;  getting  straw  for  them,  249 ;  in 


Fredericksburg,  250-252;  "Man  immortal 
till  his  work  is  done,"  252,  253 ;  "  Helpless 
and  hungry,"  254;  "Don't  trouble  the  boys, 
Colonel,"  254;  peace  within,  260,  261:  "A 
good  cause  to  be  wounded  in,"  284;  "My 
mouth's  all  bloody,  sir,"  285,  286:  the  speech 
less  at  Kingston,  290:  after  Fort  Harri 
son,  300;  cheerful,  304,  305;  a  wounded  pa 
triot  and  Christian,  316:  grateful  for  being 
wounded,  337:  "Lightly  wounded,  377.  378: 
"A  crutch  battalion,"  404,  405:  "Trading 
crutches,"  419  ;  "  My  Captain's  wounded," 
425. 

Wright,  Charles,  389-391. 

WRIGHT,  J.  E.,  275. 

Writing  down  a  prayer,  68,  69. 

"  Writing  letters  for  the  men."  298. 

WYCKOFF,  REV.  J.  D.,  452-455. 

YAGER,  THOMAS  JACKSON,  363,  364. 
Yates,  Governor,  of  Illinois,  481. 
"  Yes,  sir,  I  did  it,"  129,  130. 
Yorktown,  17-25. 
Youthful  patriotism,  65. 


THE    END. 


14  DAY  USE 

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