se CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Goodkind Book Fund IN MEMORY OF MARTIN H. GOODKIND CLASS OF 1887 Cornell University Librar The life of Chaplain McCabe :Bishop of t THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN MCCABE THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church BY FRANK MILTON BRISTOL ILLUSTRATED OW CINCINNATI: JENNINGS AND GRAHAM NEW YORK: EATON & MAINS». Copyright, 1908, by FLEMING H, REVELL COMPANY SECOND EDITION New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue Toronto : 25 Richmond Street, W. London: 21 Paternoster Square Edinburgh: too Princes Street TO HIS BELOVED REBECCA PREFACE T is with no little hesitation that I let this inade- I quate biography of Bishop McCabe go to the pub- lic. Yielding to the request made by friends, whose kind partiality may have obscured their judg- ment as to my fitness for such a task, I undertook a work the demands and difficulties of which soon embarrassed me. Bishop McCabe! Who of us did not know, or think we knew, this unique and glori- ous man? But he has been growing on us since he passed from our company and we have been study- ing anew his great life-work. We begin to see how large he was by the vacancy which his death has made in the ranks of our foremost leaders. He was so many-sided, and so brilliant on every side, as is the diamond of multitudinous facets, so like no man but himself, that he well-nigh baffles adequate bio- graphical characterisation. Our story must fall far short of giving satisfaction to those who might have done this work more skilfully and with a more com- prehensive thought-grasp of Bishop McCabe’s person- ality and mission. There are those among his thou- sands of friends who will regretfully miss herein many a worthy, wise, and witty thing that might have been said of him; many an incident and anecdote that had been tenderly associated with his life; but the limits of this volume forbid the repetition of many of the lov- 7 8 PREFACE ingly familiar incidents of his diversified career which we cherish in memory. It is to be hoped that the reader will be gratified to find in this biography so much that may be called auto- biography. Extensive use has been made of the Chap- lain’s own words, letters, journals, and addresses. And herein it will be found that the man is his own best biographer. It may be asked, “Why call this ‘The Life of Chaplain McCabe’?” The answer is, it was as Chap- lain McCabe that he first became widely and greatly distinguished; as Chaplain McCabe he was known and honoured, loved and remembered by the old soldiers who would never hail him by any other name; as Chaplain McCabe his name had been familiar as a household word in the Methodist Church for more than thirty years before he was made a bishop; and to the close of his life the first word of greeting that sprang to the lips of a friend on meeting him was: “ Chaplain!” In this instance the deference due to the dignity of an ecclesiastical title, however high-sounding it may be, will not seem to have been irreverently and unjustly sacrificed to the humbler name of affectionate familiar- ity, Chaplain McCabe! By that name we first learned to admire him, love him, and follow him; by that name we shall remember him—as with all the dignities of higher office he ever remained, so shall he forever re- main, our glorious Chaplain McCabe. Washington, D. C., F. M. B. May, 1908. CHAPTER I. II. III. Iv. V. VI. VII. VIII. Ix. XI. XII. XIII. XIV. XV. XVI. XVII. XVIII. XIX. XX. XXI. CONTENTS PREFACE . : . s - $ Tue Lanp or His — ‘ . F GENEALOGY AND BirtH 2 s 4 : FATHER AND MoTHER . * é i BoyHoop In ATHENS . - Jowa—ConversION—CALL TO THE Minseray : PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY—OHIO WES- LEYAN UNIVERSITY . a é Tse STuDENT— MENTAL Cuakserearerres _ Books . F - 3 ScHOooL TEACHING—MARRIAGE—PASTORATE Tse Civit War—“ CHapiain ” McCase Caprurep—‘* On to RicHMonp” : F r Lippy Prison. : ‘ ‘ 4 $ LicHts AND SHADows—Lerims FRoM Lipsy Prison. 3 : 3 Z : : A‘ Letters— THe FEver — RELEASE — HomEwArp Bounp . a‘ LecTure—‘ THE Buicrr Swe OF ; tare IN Tame Prison” . 3 3 : : z ‘ - THe CuHrisTIAN CoMMISSION—PERSONAL Ex- PERIENCE AND REFLECTIONS . 3 ‘5 - WorK AMONG THE SOLDIERS—REVIVALS—Con- VERSIONS . - “DoomED To RAISE ‘Mowe _Suceiee—nien= MATE OF MeEN—Fisx, VINCENT, SIMPSON, AMES, MERRILL ‘ : ‘ ‘Co-woRKERS—CHRISTIAN Pxreiors—D. L. Moony —Jacop STtRAWN . 2 : s Back To THE ARMY—WarR Scuuus—-Conver SIONS AMONG THE SOLDIERS ‘ Tse Grrr oF Sonc—“ THE BATTLE Hyunt OF THE REPUBLIC” ‘ 3 ‘ ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND THE Sarin Hymn : 9 PAGE 7 13 16 24 33 4o 47 53 64 70 80 87 92 105 118 146 155 163 173 181 188 197 10 CHAPTER XXII. XXIII. XXIV, XXV. XXVI. XXVII. XXVIII. XXIX. XXX. XXXI. XXXII. XXXII. XXXIV. XXXV. XXXVI. XXXVII XXXVIII. XXXIX, XL, Contents Death oF ABRAHAM LINCOLN—FUNERAL— BurtaL CLOSE OF THE War—Rerurn * TO ore Inner Lire SECRETARYSHIP—CHURCH Eernsnin—Da A. J. Kynetr—Tue Loan Funp Success—FronTIER WorkK—LIserae LAYMEN —GrEAT RESPONSIBILITIES—BIsHOP SIMPSON AND PresipENT LINCOLN : 3 Tue Rescue or Sart Lake City ‘Cae Power or Sonc—ReEsutts or Lecrures—In- GERSOLLVILLE . : Caplan McCase’s ee OF tuicensonpvaice« A GLaNceE BACKWARDS EVANGELISTIC Spror--Convenstons—Cob. H. H. Haptey—BisHop Wrey—T. D. CoLttins— BisHop SimMpson’s CoNverRT—~THE COoLOURED SUPERANNUATE MENTAL © ahpacrar rics eine TOWARD RATIONALISM AND INFIDELITY Promotion—A NEw Frety—Missiowany: Sec- RETARY——-LTHE SLOGAN “A MILLION For Missions” VICTORY 7 ELECTION TO THE Rerscoracy ‘ Bishop McCase—IN THE Crram—Errscovat, RESIDENCE—TEXAS—FoRWARD MoveMENT . EpiscopaAL ADMINISTRATION—SPIRITUAL POWER —SINGING CONFERENCES—BUSINESS AND RE- LIGION Mrxico—Chakierow: t OF Mosatnry—Buitrianr- inc—Moopy’s “ Critic”’—GrowTH or METH- ODISM. é 2 ‘ s ‘ 2 . South AMERICA—EvROPE—AMERICAN UNI- VERSITY . PHILADELPHIA Resinence—Gunar “Lore Giorious:Enp . Osseguies—Evtocres—APPRECIATION - 326 PAGE 204 217 230 242 252 262 268 -. 276 291 301 313 335 345 355 365 378 395 403 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE Cuartes CARDWELL McCase j ‘ 5 i . Title Saraw Ropinson McCaze . : : . : - - 24 Ropert McCase . : ‘ - is ‘ i ® - 24 BisHop McCaze’s CuitpHoop Home, ATHENS, OHIO . - 34 Lorenzo Dow McCasz, D.D., LL.D. . : é ; . 43 CuapLain McCass, 1861 . ‘ ‘ é ‘ é . 66 Mrs. McCase, 1861 . é : 2 : i . 66 Cartes Carpwett McCase, 1857... : 3 ‘ - 70 CHarLes CARDWELL McCase, 1864 . . 3 i - 70 AvTOGRAPH LETTER FROM JULIA Warp Howe . : . 192 AuTocraPpH Copy or “Batrte HyMn oF THE REPUBLIC” 1094 CuHapLaIn McCaze, 1887 . ‘j 3 5 ‘ ¢ . 230° SEcrETARY McCase, 1890 . ii : - ‘ ; + 302 Caartes CARDWELL McCase, 1896 . 5 F . 356 Mrs. Cartes C. McCase, 1906 ‘ s 5 . - 396 ( I THE LAND OF HIS BIRTH Field-Marshal of Methodism, was born on historic ground, and came of a race whose genius and energy had transformed the wilderness to a garden and blazed the way for the westward march of Empire. Athens County, Ohio, with Washington County, of which it was originally a part, may claim the distinc- tion of being the site of the first white settlement made in the Northwest Territory. The close of the Revo- tionary War inaugurated a new epoch of westward migration in which many of the officers and soldiers who had won the battles of freedom and independence _ sought that inviting region just beyond the frontier of civilization which only awaited the coming of thrifty and intelligent toilers to make its savage wilds rejoice and blossom as the rose. The Ohio Country had been an attraction to the more enterprising and adventurous from the time of the French and Indian War. In the interests of Eng- lish land-speculators and at the suggestion of Governor Dinwiddie of Virginia, the youthful Washington, in the fall of 1753, started for the West to secure, if pos- sible, concessions of land in the Ohio Country from 13 CQ) en CARDWELL McCABE, the Grand 14. THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE the French and Iroquois. Although his mission was not successful, Washington had reached the borders of the great and mysterious Westland, had stood upon the banks of the Ohio River, and had journeyed so far north as to be able to look out upon the blue expanse of Lake Erie. He returned to this country from Vir- ginia a few months later, with the ill-fated Braddock, to recapture from the French “the Key to the Ohio Valley,” Fort Du Quesne. The complete rout of the English and Virginians, the death of Braddock and the narrow, almost miraculous, escape of Washington within twenty miles of Fort Du Quesne, was all that came of this expedition. Washington had seen enough of the great West, however, to wish to see more, yes, and to possess as much as possible of its rich and fertile lands. Hence, in 1770, with Dr. James Craik and two or three servants he started the third time for the Ohio Country, reached the river, and in a canoe descended as far as the Great Kenawha, surveying with eager and speculative eye the very banks which afterwards were included in the county that took his name. A patent of 20,000 acres of land was granted Washington, and with such advantages and prospects he might have been tempted to go West had not the Revolution called him to another destiny. Benjamin Franklin was also lured by the prospect that presented itself to the enterprising and ambitious of his time in the opportunities of the great West, and he went so far as to propose to the Rev. George Whitefield that he join him in an undertaking to evan- gelise those benighted regions, THE LAND OF HIS BIRTH 15 On the eve of the Revolution, in 1774, Lord Dun- more carried his war against the Indians as far into Ohio as Circleville, where he made a treaty with the Shawanees, which was a necessary preparation for the mighty tide of immigration that was ready to pour into the country as a new Israel into another Land of Promise. The War of the Revolution retarded for a season the westward march of emigration, but the happy termination of the war in independence once more set the face of the multitudes toward the Ohio Country. By the treaty of 1783 the territorial limits of the United States were extended to the Mississippi River, and although by the old English charters certain States claimed ownership of vast tracts of land in the North- west, those States, led by the generosity of Virginia, waived their ancient claims and ceded the lands in their possession to the United States. The officers of the Revolution, just before the final disbanding of the army, and while still at Newburg, petitioned Congress to have regions in the West set aside as bounty lands. In compliance with this request 1,500,000 acres in the Ohio Country were thrown open to purchasers at one dollar per acre, and to further the interests of the Revolutionary heroes, the purchase price could be paid in soldiers’ certificates. The Ohio Company, organ- ised in Boston and chartered by the Government with the hearty sympathy and co-operation of Washington, offered such strong inducements to the recently retired officers and soldiers that the tide of emigration from New England swelled to impressive proportions. This 16 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE movement enlisted the interest of scholars, financiers, statesmen, jurists, educators, missionaries, farmers, artisans, and mechanics no less than soldiers. Among the first to seek the advantages offered by the opening of the Northwest territory were such men as Rufus Putnam, Benjamin Tupper, Samuel H. Parsons, James M. Varnum, Arthur St. Clair, and Anthony Wayne, who had distinguished themselves in war. Associated with them in promoting the westward emigration were Dr. Manassah Cutler, Winthrope Sargent, Thomas Cushing, John C. Symmes, President Willard of Har- vard College, Governor Bowdoin of Massachusetts, and others of equally high standing in the intellectual life of New England. To borrow the figure of the good old Boston divine and apply it to the settlement of Ohio, “God sifted a whole nation that He might send choice grain into this wilderness.” It was the New England culture, not to say pedan- try, that gave to the site of one of the Ohio Company’s first settlements the classical name of Athens. If the very name of this locality suggests the intellectual aspirations of its first settlers, the names of those worthy pioneers themselves reveal not only their New England origin but their Puritan ancestry and train- ing. Rarely does one of those first settlers of Athens bear a profane or worldly name. Ebenezer, Jonathan, Josiah, Daniel, Jethro, Ezekiel, Hezekiah, Amos, Ben- jamin, Samuel, Elizur, Jabez, David, Simeon, Israel— what an array of good old-fashioned Scriptural names! And it was not in Virginia, Georgia, and the Caro- linas, but in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hamp- THE LAND OF HIS BIRTH 17 shire, and Connecticut that parents gave such names to their children. No country was ever settled by a higher moral, intellectual, and patriotic type of men and women than were the people who with “Empires in their brains’ and millenniums in their souls took first possession of the Ohio Country and laid the foundations of the greatness of the West. As the strong tide of emigration swept over the Alleghanies and on to the rich and mysterious terri- tory opening to the new civilisation many who had settled in Pennsylvania caught the westward spirit and joined the march of Empire. Owen McCabe and his brother, from County Tyrone, Ireland, had come into the locality, built therein the first home, and had given the name to what is now known as Tyrone, Pennsylvania. The English Crown bestowed on these pioneers a grant of 3,000 acres of land. From these brothers sprang the red- headed and the black-headed McCabes. Owen’s black- headed descendants went into Ohio, his brother’s red- headed progeny moved to Virginia. II GENEALOGY AND BIRTH r | “= Scotch-Irish Owen McCabe of Tyrone married Catherine Sears of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Their son Robert, born in 1784, married Polly McCracken, and moved. from Brownsville, Pa., to Marietta, Ohio, in 1813. Polly McCracken’s father, Alexander McCracken, was an eloquent Irish preacher and was descended from the proud Hamiltons of Ireland and England. To Robert and Polly McCabe ten children were born: six sons and four daughters. Of these Robert McCabe, Jr., the first son, was born in Brownsville, Pa., March 14, 1813. His mother, Polly, carried him in her arms as with her husband she came down the Ohio River on a flat-boat and settled in Marietta. This Robert McCabe, who spent his childhood and youth in Mar- ietta, married Sarah Robinson, of Belpre, and moved to Athens. Sarah Robinson as a child came to this country with her parents from Kildwick, Yorkshire, England, in 1822, and settled in Marietta, Ohio. Her father was Cuthbert Cardwell Robinson. His mother was a Cardwell of Poulton-le-fylde in Lancashire. More re- motely, the Cardwells were of Barton, Parish of Pres- ton. Of this family was Lord Cardwell, Secretary of 18 GENEALOGY AND BIRTH 19 State for War at the beginning of Mr. Gladstone’s first ministry, in 1868. Four children were born to Robert and Sarah Rob- inson McCabe. The third was Charles Cardwell McCabe, born in Athens, Ohio, October 11, 1836. The other children were Leroy Garrettson, Robert Robinson, and Mary Elizabeth. Of this family the last named, Mrs. Edward Starr, of Chicago, alone survives. To trace the genealogy backward on the father’s side we find that Charles Cardwell McCabe was the son of Robert McCabe, who was the son of Robert McCabe, who was the son of Owen McCabe of Tyrone, Pa., and County Tyrone, Ireland. On his mother’s side he was the son of Sarah Robin- son, who was the daughter of Cuthbert Cardwell Robinson. The latter was descended from the ancient Cardwell family of Barton, England. Certain genea- logical enthusiasts have confidently traced the McCabes by the McCrackens or the Cardwells to a relationship with Mary, Queen of Scots. But while we read this chapter of genealogy, proud or unpretentious as it may be, we seem to see that simple-hearted, independent, democratic Charles McCabe “smile at the claims of long descent,” as his clarion voice rings out the sentiment which we have often heard from his lips: “Howe’er it be, it seems to me, *Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.” 20 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE It was with righteous exultation that Bishop McCabe / pointed backward to this ancestry of good, kind- hearted folk of simple faith. His grandfather Robert followed the trade chosen by Whittier, Carey, Senator Wilson, Admiral Sir Cloudsley Shovel and many an- other greater man than himself, for he was a shoe- maker. He was one of the first converts of early Ohio Methodism. Before the days of Methodist meeting- houses his home was always open to the itinerant for preaching services. This Robert McCabe was a man of great good sense and earnest piety. As steward, class- leader, and exhorter so untiring was his activity, so fervent his zeal, so safe and sane his judgment, and so absorbed was he in the evangelisation of the com- munity, that he was called “the Little Bishop.” His wife Polly was a woman of deep spirituality and of uncommon mental endowments. Her education and training in the home of a learned and eloquent minis- ter of the Gospel, her sweet and simple piety, and her remarkable gifts in prayer qualified her to share with her devout husband the honor and happiness of making their home the very centre of the early Methodist movement in the Ohio Country. In view of the extraordinary work in behalf of Christian Missions accomplished by his grandson one incident in the life of the class-leader, Robert McCabe, becomes most interesting if it may not be regarded as quite prophetic. In the year 1816, the negro, John Stewart, was converted under the preaching of a Meth- odist itinerant at Marietta. Robert McCabe became John Stewart’s class-leader and spiritual adviser. He GENEALOGY AND BIRTH aq took a profound interest in the religious development of this remarkable convert, often invited him to his home, where by the class-leader’s Scriptural instruction and by Polly McCabe’s sweet and powerful prayers Stewart’s soul would seem lifted to the very gates of Heaven. He soon began to hear voices calling him, as he believed, to the Lord’s service. He wisely turned to his class-leader for counsel and advice. Robert McCabe, in the simple faith of those good old days, believed Stewart had received a divine call, and fur- nishing him with Bible, hymn-book, money, horse, and the license of his blessing, with a recommendation to the Ohio Conference he sent him forth as the first missionary of Methodism to the heathen world. John Stewart followed “the voice” until it led him to the Wyandotte Indians at Upper Sandusky, where he began his work by preaching a sermon to one old squaw. A revival soon broke out, in which hundreds were converted. The whole Church was thrilled by the report that spread over the country. -A church or chapel was needed to accommodate the congregation of Indian converts. To build it and to sustain the work among the Wyandottes, collections were solicited and thereby the fires of missionary zeal were first kindled in the heart of American Methodism. The chapel at Upper Sandusky, after repeated restorations, stands to this day as the first church ever built by the Metho- dists for a heathen people. It has been claimed that the interest awakened throughout the Church by this revival among the Indians developed into a demand for the organisation of the Missionary Society of the 22 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE Methodist Episcopal Church, which was founded in the City of New York in the year 1819. What a re- ward of joy unspeakable would have been his could Robert McCabe, whose blessing sent John Stewart on his mission to the Indians, have foreseen the day when his own grandson would become the great Missionary Secretary to inspire the Church with that glorious slogan, “ A Million for Missions!” Is it too much to claim for Bishop McCabe’s grandfather that the pow- erful missionary movement of American Methodism that has swept round the world received its original impulse in the class-meeting which was held in the home of that humble but godly layman, Robert McCabe? Too early, it would seem to our human wisdom, Robert and Polly McCabe were called from the activi- ties of their most useful and beneficent life. In 1823, before either had’ reached the age of forty years, they were both sleeping in the Mound Cemetery of Marietta. The memory of these saints has ever been in that community as ointment poured forth. Nine children survived them. The oldest, Hannah, was but nineteen years of age, and several were under six, when Robert and Polly McCabe died. Of these nine chil- dren, two at least became distinguished, Robert, as the father of Bishop McCabe, and Lorenzo Dow, as an astute thinker, a profound scholar, and an accom- plished educator who made a deep impression upon the character and exercised a lasting influence over the mental and spiritual life of the Bishop, by whom he was ever held in proud admiration and affectionate ven- GENEALOGY AND BIRTH ' 23 eration. Few among the Methodist scholars, educators, and authors of the Nineteenth Century are more wor- thy the honor of the Church’s grateful memory than Lorenzo Dow McCabe. As professor in the Ohio State University at Athens, and for fifty years in the Ohio Wesleyan University at Delaware, he impressed his strong individuality, his rugged character, and the authority of his virile, original thinking upon hundreds of men who were destined to fill the highest places in civil, political, and ecclesiastical life. Seven thou- sand students passed under his instruction during his long and distinguished educational career. Of these, no less than five hundred became ministers of the Gospel, sixty entered the missionary field, six hundred became superintendents of schools, two hundred col- lege professors, and forty-five college presidents. Bishop McCabe never let pass an opportunity for pay- ing to the memory of this truly good and great man who had taken so deep an interest in his welfare, every tribute of praise which an undying gratitude could inspire. TII FATHER AND MOTHER Bishop Charles Cardwell McCabe, was a man ‘of sterling worth: plain, practical and spir- itually-minded, full of faith and good works. He was the noble son of a noble father and seems to have inherited from that father and from a mother of precious memory the very genius of prevailing prayer. This gift of extraordinary power in prayer, of faith, boldness, unction, and irresistibility—was hereditary in the McCabe family. The gifts of song and elo- quence were also theirs in a marked degree. Among the sons of the original Owen McCabe were several who became noted as singers, while their voices, both in speech and song, possessed that peculiar magnetism which was so characteristic of the sweet singing and persuasive eloquence of Bishop McCabe. During the years 1864-5 Chaplain McCabe kept a daily journal. It is now a mine of precious infor- mation which one cannot explore without a feeling of regret that it was not continued through his entire long and useful life. In this journal frequent most affectionate references are made to his father. “Washington, Feb. 17, 1864. My father sends word that I may expect him here soon. I only regret 24 R este McCABE, second, the father of DN LUTAOU AVON NOSNIGOU HYUVS aav FATHER AND MOTHER 25 that so much of my life has been spent in absence from him. My father is one of the best and kindest of men.” “Washington, Feb. 29, 1864. This afternoon I was surprised by intelligence that my father had come to Washington and wished me to come in (from camp). I did not expect him until next Saturday. I was delighted to see him. He came all the way from New York to see me. No family has a kinder head than ours. Long may my father live to bless us with his presence! ” “Washington, Mar. 1, 1864. Spent a day with father. Had a pleasant time. How dear my father grows to me as time moves on apace!” “Detroit, Apr. 23, 1864. Father went right on to New York. I disliked to part with him very much. I part with him with more and more regret each time.” “ Chicago, Aug. 21, 1865. Arrived here this after- noon just in time to see father, who is to leave on the morning train for Cincinnati. It is very hard for him to be separated from his family. No matter who is here, it seems lonely enough without his cheerful presence.” With many business vicissitudes, not to say reverses, to try his patience this godly man main- tained a cheerful optimism and tranquillity of spirit which exemplified the truth of the Scripture: ‘ Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee.” With all the hereditary traits of the McCabes, the 26 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE McCrackens, and the Hamiltons that may have con- tributed to the making of such a man as Bishop McCabe, that precious mother, Sarah Robinson, with the blood and genius of the Cardwells, gave to his nature that added strength and assertiveness of will, that celestial fire of rational exthusiasm, that poise and independence of judgment, that superb dash and courage of conviction and that refined poetical imagi- nation which made him the embodiment of physical, mental, and spiritual magnetism, at once a “soul of song” and “a Son of Thunder.” Bishop McCabe’s mother was a rare combination of physical comeliness, mental refinement, and spirit- ual sensibility. Her graceful form, her countenance beaming with intelligence, her “ beautiful dark eyes,” and her dignified but most kindly manners bespoke the woman of Christian culture, the charm and ornament of the social circle, and the queenly genius of the home. With the utmost devotion to her family in all the sweet and sacred domesticities of that ideal home she found opportunity in her conscientious economy and improvement of time for the studies in which she delighted and for the literary productions with which she often enriched the “‘ Ladies Repository ” of her day. But her devotion to the Church, her passion for missions, her gift of song, her moving yet womanly eloquence in testimony, her tender unction and effec- tual fervency in prayer endowed her with those ele- ments of leadership which all who knew her willingly recognised. What the spiritual atmosphere of Sarah McCabe’s FATHER AND MOTHER 27 home must have been may be judged by an incident that was recalled by the death of an aged saint, whose maiden name was Juliette Coe. Her pastor at the time of her death in Lathrop, Mo., wrote the Bishop: “When she was a young woman she was employed by your mother as a seamstress, and while in her employ was converted and joined the Methodist Episcopal Church in Athens.” This woman was one of the organisers of the Methodist Society in Lathrop. Happily, there still survive a few, alas, too few, of those associates of other days who knew Mrs, McCabe in Athens, Ohio. Mrs. Isaac R. Hitt, of Washington, D. C., when a child, knew this elect lady. Mrs. Hitt’s father, the Rev. Arza Brown, was the pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Athens and baptised the infant Charles Cardwell McCabe. Mrs. Hitt, then Mary Brown, was a child together with the future Bishop in those early Athens days. The pastor’s wife, Mrs, Hitt’s mother, became an inti- mate companion of Sarah McCabe, the Bishop’s mother. These godly women were congenial spirits and found common interest and delight in their meet- ings at the parsonage or at the home of Mrs. McCabe. This is the picture which Mrs, Hitt tells us still hangs on memory’s wall: “There were two tables in the room, one laden with books—Latin, mental and moral philosophy, botany, etc., and the other table displayed an array of paints, brushes, velvet, and satin. And while those elect ladies were studying, and painting so beautifully on satin and velvet, they were also think- ing and praying for the salvation of souls.” 28 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE Mrs. McCabe eagerly seconded the proposal of the pastor’s wife to make up “a box,” which proved to be a hogshead of clothing for the naked heathen of Africa. A society was organised with Mrs. Arza Brown as President and Mrs. Robert McCabe as Re- cording and Corresponding Secretary. The whole district at once became interested in “the box for Africa.” The project succeeded beyond all expecta- tion. In due time, the clothing was sent off with prayers and songs of praise. It reached Monrovia with a beautiful letter from Mrs. McCabe, just as the missionaries were praying for garments with which to clothe their converts and make them presentable in the house of worship. Here again in the soul of Sarah Robinson McCabe we find one of those springs of missionary zeal from which her distinguished son drank in the genius that roused Methodism to “A Million for Missions.” The Rev. William H. Sutherland, to whom the Bishop referred as a man who had exercised a mould- ing influence over his religious life in his boyhood, wrote in response to the kind words of the Bishop: “T have a very pleasant remembrance of you as a young parishoner of mine in Athens; and especially a most precious memory of your beautiful and talented mother. What a power she was in prayer! I used. to hold her in reserve to pray me over the hard places in my meetings, and she always prevailed.” We are indebted to Miss Helen Ames Walker, a niece of Bishop Ames, for valuable reminiscences col- lected as late as the year 1896 from several of the then FATHER AND MOTHER 29 surviving associates of Bishop McCabe’s mother, who knew her in Athens, Ohio. Among these precious recollections are tributes like these: ‘‘ Oh yes, I re- member Mrs. McCabe. She was a good woman. I used to feel as I sat by her side in church that she was constantly engaged in prayer. “T remember Mrs. McCabe in the class-room. She used to lead the female class sometimes. That was the good old times of the Methodist Church here in Athens. The Rev. Arza Brown was one among the preachers we had about that time, and J. B. Boutecou, Robert Spencer, Jacob Young, and John Stewart. It all comes back to me so plain. Dear saintly Dr. Merrick was then a professor in the University. Mrs. Merrick was an intimate friend of Mrs. McCabe. They were both fond of books, and used to study together, and recite to some of the college professors. In those days the women’s class used to meet at Mrs. McCabe’s house and the preacher in charge was the leader; but when he had to be away he would often ask her to lead. We all liked that, for we loved to hear her talk and pray. She always had something good to say, and she was very able in prayer.” One who went “ to class ” with the Bishop’s mother said: “I always associate her in my mind with a certain text of Scripture, for it was so often upon her lips. To this day when I open my Bible and read: ‘ As the hart panteth after the water-brooks so panteth my soul after thee, O God,’ a vision of Mrs. McCabe rises before me as I used to see her in that old class 30 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE meeting. I recall, too, quite clearly, her sweet voice as she led in the singing.” “She was a charming singer, able in prayer, un- tiring in labors at the altar. The last time I saw her was in 1839, at the camp-meeting below Athens; just the same, sweet, affable friend. The lapse of near threescore years leaves only delightful memories.” “T shall never forget her last visit to Athens. The day before she left, she met our Society, and opened with prayer. It has seldom been my lot to hear such eloquence as fell from her lips. In tones as sweet as angels use, the Gospel whispered peace and joy to all our fallen race.” Thus the fragrance of that sweet and beneficent life, scarcely reaching beyond young womanhood in her early Ohio home, lingers still in the grateful mem- ory of saints who in the even-time of their long pil- grimage cannot forget the companionship of that beautiful soul which left upon them long ago the bap- tism of her God-loving inspiration. Although his mother passed away when he was but sixteen years of age, Bishop McCabe cherished most precious mem- ories of her and left on record this tender filial tribute: “I remember my mother as a patient, gentle, lovely Christian. Her heart was always in the work of God. She was a deeply pious woman. If any one should ask me how my mother most impressed herself upon my life I would be at no loss to answer. It was by her prayers. It seemed to me that never did a human being get so close to the mercy-seat of God as did she when she led us in prayer. Whether at the FATHER AND MOTHER 31 family altar, in the prayer-meeting, in the great con- gregation, or in the camp-meeting, my mother’s voice pleading with God had a power over me which words cannot describe, and I have heard many others say the same thing. She died when she was only forty- two years old, of pneumonia, in Burlington, Iowa. Her death was unexpected to us all. The day before she died I was standing in her room with my hymn- book in my hand. She called me to her, took the book, and turned to Henry Kirke White’s beautiful hymn: “« Through sorrow’s night and danger’s path Amid the deepening gloom, We, followers of our suffering Lord, Are marching to the tomb.’ She read it through to the close with an accent and beauty of expression which I shall ever remember. When the physician informed us the next day that she must die, her farewell to her husband and children was touching and beautiful. She had something to say to us all. To me she said: ‘ Watch over Mary!’ I thought this was strange, as I was her youngest son. To my brother Robert she said: ‘ Robbie, you have always been a good boy.’ To my eldest brother, Leroy, she said: ‘I have loved you with a mother’s love.’ I did not hear the message she gave to my little sister, Mary, now Mrs. Starr, of Chicago. Her mem- ory is fragrant to her children as with the very breath of heaven, and among the glorious events of the future there is one anticipation which thrills my soul, 92 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE and that is the meeting with my mother in the better land.” During the exciting days of the Civil War and while engaged in raising money for the Christian Commission, Chaplain McCabe recorded these words in his daily journal, under date of Chicago, January 14, 1864: “This day is the anniversary of my mother’s death. Twelve years ago this night she died in Burlington, Iowa. Soon after her death our fam- ily was scattered abroad. Now all its living members are assembled at my father’s home in Chicago. What memories are brought up by the recurrence of this day! ‘‘* Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight ! Make me a child again, just for to-night !’” May we all meet in the better land!” Again he writes under date of Burlington, Iowa, June 16, 1864: “ After twelve years of wandering I am here where were spent part of my boyhood days. My mother’s grave is here. I shall go to it to-morrow and make arrangements for adorning our family lot. I hope some day to sleep beside my mother.” In the quiet shade of the oaks and evergreens of Aspen Grove Cemetery is the grave of this beautiful, accomplished, and saintly woman. A more appropri- ate spot, where Art has not robbed Nature of its god- given charms, could not have been chosen as the last resting-place of one so gentle, true, and loving as the mother of Bishop McCabe. The unostentatious but appropriate marble that marks her grave bears beneath FATHER AND MOTHER 34 the bas-relief of a funeral urn capped with the sym- bolic flame of memory and immortal hope, the follow- ing inscription: Sarah C. Robinson. Sarah C, wife of Robert McCabe Died Jan. 14, 1852. Aged 41 years, 5 Mo., 10 Ds. Let sickness blast and death devour, If Heaven must recompense our pains; Perish the grass and fade the flower, If firm the word of God remains. IV BOYHOOD IN ATHENS the intellectual atmosphere of the old Uni- versity. town of Athens was spent the: child- hood of Bishop McCabe. In those days the classic shades of Athens drew to the halls of learning men whose. names adorn the brightest pages of Ohio’s early history. President W. H. McGuffey, of Eclectic Reader and Spelling Book fame; Prof. Frederick Merrick, later the President of Ohio Wesleyan University; Bishop T. A. Morris and his brother, Calvary Morris, the class-leader congress- man; Bishop E. R. Ames; Prof. L. D. McCabe, and many other men of now venerated memory in Church and in State, by their presence and influence lent a charm and distinction to the place which attracted the best society into its pure moral and intellectual life. It is with a justifiable pride that this ancient seat of Western learning contributed to the Methodist Epis- copal Church three of her honoured and beloved Bishops. For Bishops Earl Cranston, David H. Moore, and Charles Cardwell McCabe were all Athen- ians. Little “Dave” Moore and “ Charlie” McCabe were playmates in their native village, but Earl Crans- ton was removed from Athens in his infancy and did 34 [: a home presided over by such a mother and in - OINO ‘SNAHLV ‘NOM GOOHATIHO S.AdVOON doOnsig BOYHOOD IN ATHENS 35 not return until after “ Charlie” McCabe, four years his senior, had grown to youth and moved away, hence they were not playmates. The careful training which Sarah McCabe bestowed upon her children may be inferred from her own intellectual aspirations, literary tastes, and studious habits. She seems to have inherited Susannah Wes- ley’s mantle and to have ordered her household with a like motherly solicitude and genius. A single casual expression from one of the “Chaplain’s” Libby Prison letters to his wife throws a light into that home- life of his boyhood which reveals the whole story of his mother’s devotion to the early education of her children. Referring to his own infant son, in whom he found the full measure of a proud father’s happi- ness, he wrote: ‘“ Can my little boy talk yet? Teach him his letters at once! he must learn to read at the age of three and one-half years. My mother did so. Life is short, must commence early.” From this we are left to conclude that Sarah McCabe was the first teacher of her children in the elements of education. From the mother’s instruc- tion children in those days usually passed into a pri- vate school, kept by some worthy dame, where they were fitted for still higher schools and finally for the Seminary and the College. It is quite certain that' Athens did not in that early day offer to children such advantages for common-school education as it fur- nished the youth for the higher learning. “ Charlie” McCabe was not a prodigy. No prophecies were made, nor were any extravagant expectations of his 36 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE future fame entertained. He was a bright, hand- some, boyish boy, with a will of his own and a temper not all his own. He was happy, careless, and indepen- dent, but clean, pure-minded, and generous, with a tender conscience, and with the beautiful, expressive eyes of his mother. While he was not a strikingly precocious child, he was quick enough to learn when he set himself the task. He was full of innocent fun, a perfect mimic, and quite a “ boy orator.” He loved the great world out-of-doors, the streets, the trees, the College campus, the river where he learned to swim. He was fond of his dog. He loved the boys and girls, and they loved him. And even now in the gloaming of these far-off years they have the vision still of his strangely beautiful dark eyes that fascinated them in childhood and of that smiling face, the index of a happy heart that loved everything and everybody. What that boyhood life in Athens was to him, what influences were then and there making their lasting impression upon his mind and character, may be learned in part and by suggestion from a letter written to a friend after he had revisited his birthplace in 1885. “Last night after supper I wandered about Athens by moonlight; went over and saw the home we used to live in on the other side of the College green. It is a noble-looking house yet. It is right opposite the old beech-tree into which we boys used to climb and on whose limbs we used to cut our names. I walked all around the green, along the walk where we used to haul Mary in our little wagon, and stood on the high terrace and looked over into the Hocking BOYHOOD IN ATHENS 37 Valley, where we learned to swim. The old town looks very natural somehow. I could find my way about, even by moonlight, and trace out the old land- marks. I wandered up to the old College building and there is the steeple yet where the boys used to pen the goat. “Tt was delightful to me to saunter around by my- self and look at those old houses and think of days gone by. What a wonderful thing is memory! How loved ones come gliding in at her bidding and sit silently down at the feast of life! We had a happy childhood at Athens. The boys were, I think, better than they are now. Mothers could trust them out at night. On the College green fence we used to sit in long rows and tell stories and spin yarns till ten o’clock. Mother never thought we could do any wrong, and we repaid her trust by doing right always. Not an oath or obscene word would pass our lips. Our Spirits were innocent. It took so little to amuse us then. A game of ball on the College green or of leap- frog was fun enough for us. There were no thea- tres, no saloons, no gambling hells anywhere to be seen. The taverns kept liquor, but a drunken man was rarely ever seen. Dear father; what a noble man he was to his family! What a palace that home must have seemed thirty-eight years ago, for it outranks all the houses of that street yet. I peered into the win- dows. Around the table a family of children were gathered, reading by a brilliant lamp—boys and girls. One, a beautiful young lady, who seemed an elder sister to the group, with a very fair, sweet face. I 38 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE wonder if they ever think of those who in other days trod that spacious hall and gathered, a happy group, around that ingle side! Dear mother! What a noble woman! How happy I would make her life if she were with us yet! It is so long since she died, and I am getting.old, and will soon follow her. It was into that very room, where the family were sitting last night, that father used to go at noon to pray. Every - day he would go into that room to talk with God be- fore he returned to his business, and came out with a gleam in his face that used to fill me with awe, and I would say in the very depths of my soul: ‘My papa is a wonderful good man, I must never deceive him.’ “T looked at the green on which we boys used to play and where sometimes for hours I would lie asleep, with my dog for my pillow. He was always so glad to let me put my head upon him and go to sleep in the long summer afternoons. I enjoyed going through the streets and reading the names on the signs. The fathers are dead—the sons succeed to the business. I did not make myself known to anybody. They knew not Joseph. It is a new generation. B. and G. saw my name in the register of the hotel and sought me out, or I would have passed through my native town without speaking to a soul. If I could have talked to some who lie sleeping in the cemetery I would have been glad. Well, I cannot say that life to me has been a disappointment. The result has far surpassed the day-dreams of my childhood. I had very humble views of myself. I never expected to be anything in the world. If a seer had told me that my station in BOYHOOD IN ATHENS 39 life was on a farm or in a corner grocery, I would not have been conscious of any want of harmony between such a destiny and my own opinions of my deservings. My_life has been far more successful than sust. I thought it would be.” Vv IOWA—CONVERSION—CALL TO THE MINISTRY and settled for a short time in Chillicothe, Ohio, whence, about the year 1850, they moved to Burlington, Iowa. Charles was then a lad of four- teen. ‘At the close of that year and in a revival watch-night service, he experienced an overpowering blessing which the people looked upon and shouted over as his conversion, and he often referred to it as such. A gracious revival was in progress in old Zion Church, of which Rev. L. B. Dennis was the pastor, and that good man seems to be the best authority for the data that, shortly after midnight on January rst, 1851, Charles C. McCabe, with others, joined the Church on probation. This was just after there had been a wonderful manifestation of spiritual power which has never been forgotten by that community. There has been some difficulty in settling these moot points of time and place and the ministerial agent of the Bishop’s conversion. Even the Bishop’s own statements at times seem to conflict. Where, when, and under whose ministry was he converted, received into the Church on probation, and then admitted to full membership? One report is that he was con- 4° Rie: McCABE, with his family, left Athens CALL TO THE MINISTRY ‘41 verted in Athens, Ohio, at the age of seven or eight years, and through the evangelistic efforts of “ Saint ” Minturn. This is the Bishop’s own statement: “When I was eight years old, during a revival I went forward to the altar at a quarterly meeting and came into conscious fellowship with Jesus Christ. There was an old man stopping at our home during the meet- ing. He was called ‘Saint’ Minturn. He was a holy man of God, and he would sing for mother a hymn beginning: “* What's this that steals upon my frame—is it death? If this be death, I soon shall be From every pain and sorrow free I shall the King of Glory see All is. well. Among the last verses, he sang: “*Bright Angels are from glory come, They’re round my bed, they’re in my room. They wait to waft my spirit home. All is well.’ He did not know that a little boy was listening to his voice. He did not know what wonder he awakened in my heart that he was not afraid to die! Young as I was, I felt that I was afraid to die, but here was a man who was ready to depart. That night he exhorted, and I yielded to his pleading; and with four other boys went forward to the altar and there came into conscious fellowship with Jesus Christ, and from that hour my call to the ministry was clear and unmistakable,” 42 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE Again it was claimed that he was converted at Old Zion Church in Burlington, Iowa, January 1, 1851, under the ministry of the Rev. L. B. Dennis. And still again the impression has obtained that he was converted in Burlington during the pastorate of the Rev. Landon Taylor. The facts seem to be that in addition to the reli- gious ideas and principles which had been instilled into his heart by his godly father and mother there came to him the first gentle convictions and emotions which usually attend a sweet childish acceptance of an invita- tion to “ come to the altar” in the church at Athens, Ohio. It was at “Saint”? Minturn’s meeting that little “Charlie” McCabe, with others, went to the “altar”; there he accepted the Saviour and felt His love, a love that never departed. But seven or eight years later, in Burlington, he may have found him- self somewhat indifferent to that Saviour’s love, and, “going forward” at a midnight revival service of remarkable spiritual power, he received a blessing that threw him into a trance, or of which the exceed- ing weight of glory caused him to faint to uncon- sciousness. There and then he was probably justified in believing that that was the time and place of his real conversion. ‘There can be no doubt that the Rev. L. B. Dennis received him into the Church on proba- tion in Old Zion Church. But soon after this experi- ence he removed with his family to a farm near Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. The next year, or later in the same year, he returned to Burlington and to Old Zion. A new pastor had CALL TO THE MINISTRY 43 been sent to the charge, the Rev. Landon Taylor, and he evidently received the probationer into full mem- bership. The profound impression which this able and saintly man made upon the newly awakened soul may have been and doubtless was the divinely or- dained means used for his firm and complete establish- ment in the faith and experience of salvation, and in the conviction that he was called to the ministry. At the request of a friend, the Bishop once dictated this statement: “During a great revival that was going on in Old Zion Church, under the pastorate of the Rev. L. B. Dennis, I united with the church on probation; shortly afterwards I moved to our great farm near Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. We spent the winter there; when we returned I found that there had been a change of pastors and that the Rev. Landon Taylor was in charge. He took hold of me at once and was greatly interested in my spiritual welfare. He ap- pointed me to lead a class when I was fifteen years old. The class met in a private home and soon grew so large that it required not only the front room, but the front yard to hold the congregation. I have always had a great veneration for L. B. Dennis and Landon Taylor; they remain in,my memory as typical Meth- odist preachers; they went through the West calling men to repentance, building up the Church of God, and sowing the seed of the Kingdom of Heaven far and wide.” Before this, however, in a communica- tion to the Burlington Hawk-Eye, under date of Jan- uary 22, 1887, the Bishop told what some have called “the story of his conversion.” He wrote: “TI joined 44 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE Old Zion Church in the year 1851; the Church itself was on fire with religious zeal; it was in a constant state of revival. L. B. Dennis was pastor. I was a boy of fifteen—the perilous age, the age when great questions are decided forever. It was a glorious thing for me that just at this time my father moved from a town where the Church was cold and formal to one where it was full of spiritual power, and the powerful appeals of Brother Dennis swept away my refuge of lies and woke my conscience. In the sum- mer of 1851, we moved to the country near Mt. Pleas- ant, where my father owned a farm. Upon returning in the fall, we found that Landon Taylor was the pas- tor at Old Zion. He was the weeping prophet, a shepherd indeed, for he looked after the lambs. I yielded to the heavenly influences around me and united with the Church. Dear Old Zion! I loved the very dust upon its walls. Had it not been for what transpired within those walls, I verily believe my career on earth would have closed long ago. The Rev. A. C. Williams was brought in at the same time. We started a young men’s prayer-meeting which be- came a great power in the city. Among those who joined us was P. L. Underwood. We urged him to enter the ministry with us, but he said: ‘ You boys go and preach and I’ll make money for the cause of God.” He kept his word, and I have known him to give $25,000 at one time for a good object. I have no doubt he has given a large fortune away for the maintenance and spread of the Kingdom of Christ in the world. Who can estimate the power for good of CALL TO THE MINISTRY 45 such a man as Landon Taylor? He was tender and noble. Our respect for him was boundless.” It is not improbable that the McCabes left Burlington in 1851 and returned the next year, or in 1852, instead of in the same year. That will explain the fact that they were not at Old Zion during the Rev. Mr. Brooks’ pastorate, which followed L, B. Dennis’s. It seems quite clear from these statements that the Bishop was converted at the age of eight, at Athens, Ohio, through the immediate influence of “ Saint” Minturn; that at the age of fifteen, “that perilous age,” he had lost the bright glow of his religious fervor and was beginning to question the reality of his experience, if not the truth of the Gospel, and in his mental perplexity was resorting to the quibbles of scepticism, when, as he says, “by his powerful ap- peals Brother Dennis swept away my refuge of lies and woke my conscience.” In the further develop- ment of his religious life, and in his first efforts toward leading others, which resulted in his entering the ministry, Landon Taylor was his spiritual guide and father. As to the claim that the Rev. Elias Skinner received brother McCabe into full membership while he was pastor at Cedar Rapids, there arises this difficulty: According to the “ History of the Upper Iowa Con- ference,” the Rev. Elias Skinner’s pastorate there was from 1855 to 1857, which was after brother McCabe had left the city. Elias Skinner did not begin his pastorate there until at least a year after brother McCabe had entered Ohio Wesleyan University, 46 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE which was in 1854. During some later visit of brother McCabe to Iowa he may have become ac- quainted with pastor Skinner and the two men may have worked together in revival services, and in after years the latter may have had the impression that brother McCabe joined the church of which he was the pastor. The call to the ministry evidently came to Charles McCabe in that first experience of the love and favor of God when, as a boy, he went to the altar on the invitation of “Saint” Minturn. With his sub- sequent wonderful baptism of spiritual power in the revival at Burlington the call became louder, clearer, and more unmistakable. The Church likewise ac- knowledged that he possessed the gifts and graces that qualified him to become a candidate for the ministry. It was the conviction of his pastors and fellow church members that he was “called.” The genius of success was early manifest in all the endeav- orings of young McCabe. He possessed a magnetic power that drew men to him and won their admira- tion and confidence. He always made friends, ardent, lifelong friends, wherever he went. He was brave, even daring, and always optimistic and the em- bodiment of good humor. As a born leader, he had the. vision of a seer and would often startle others from their quiet ease and indifference by the very audacity of his faith and courage. His whole being seemed to exemplify the divine precept, ‘ What thy hand findeth to do, do with thy might.” Put in charge of a great farm in the winter of 1851-2, when CALL TO THE MINISTRY 47 but fifteen years of age, he justified his father’s confi- dence in his ability by such a management of affairs that in the spring the stock, for which he had built shelters with his own hands and which he had care- fully fed, was the fattest and sleekest in the country. The next year after his successful farming experience, he entered the store of Mr. Green, of Cedar Rapids, Iowa, as a clerk, That winter he sang in the choir of the Episcopal Church. By his diligence and devo- tion to business and by his religious earnestness and power of song he so completely won the confidence and affection of his employer, who was an Episcopa- lian, that he proposed to send Charles to college in the East, if he would enter the ministry of the Prot- estant Episcopal Church. But no, highly as he ap- preciated Mr. Green’s noble and generous proposition, with his Methodist antecedents and his warm Metho- dist blood, young McCabe felt obliged to decline the good man’s offer and to choose rather to be a Metho- dist preacher. Thus far he had succeeded in every- thing he had undertaken. He put his soul into every work he had to do, that is to say, his whole energy, will, enthusiasm, and conscience went into his task. There can be no doubt that if he had chosen a com- mercial or professional career, he would have dis- tinguished himself and would have reaped those re- wards of wealth and fame which are ever at the com- mand of such force, genius, and tireless devotion to duty as were combined in his success-compelling personality. VI PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY—OHIO WESLEYAN UNIVERSITY educational advantages which were offered by the Ohio Wesleyan University, and as Prof. William F. Whitlock thinks, he matriculated in the fall of 1854. He had not enjoyed a very thorough training for College. The limited advantages for schooling at Athens, outside the University course, and the farm- ing and clerking experiences in Iowa, prevented that preparation for student life which would have fitted him to at once enter the Freshman class in the Classi- cal Course. He consequently began with preparatory studies. As with every young man who seeks the higher education, so with Charles McCabe; his arrival at Col- lege opens a new epoch in his life. His career has been determined upon; he has heard the call of God, a clear, unmistakable call. And now, having been en- couraged by his uncle “ Dow,” he proceeds to Dela- ware, Ohio, to study for the ministry. It is no exag- geration, however, to say that while Charles McCabe’s arrival in Delaware marked an important epoch in his own life, it also made an impression on that pious and classical community. Old students of Wesleyan and 48 |: preparation for the ministry Charles sought the LORENZO DOW McCABE, DD., LUL.D. PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY 49 citizens of Delaware remembered ever afterward the coming of “Charlie’” McCabe. A refreshing breeze of religious enthusiasm seemed to have struck the town on his coming. During the Chapel service he said “Amen” aloud and with an unction. The stu- dents looked over their shoulders and the professors stared at him over their spectacles. He carried into the College prayer-meetings and into the village Church the magnetism of a living, joyful, courageous religious experience. The students and the people were moved by his prayers and testimony, and thrilled by the strangely sweet influence of his song. Not many weeks passed before he was a popular favorite; he won all hearts by his happy spirit, his cordial man- ners, his handsome face, his magnetic voice, and his genuine religious fervour. Here again were early manifested those qualities of personality which in after years attracted to him a world of friends and won to every great cause of which he was the cham- pion the princely laymen who under the spell of his sanctified eloquence laid fortunes on the altars of God. Who shall say that it is to be regretted that in those College days he permitted his spiritual fervor to get away with his academic studiousness? He did this; religion was the greatest thing in the world to him, then and always. He could not lay it aside, he did not hold in abeyance his religious emotions, or quench the spirit while seeking the mental training of the University. He was a man of feeling, and because a man of feeling a sincere man, a man of convictions, a man of principle. Hence this man of deep, rational 50 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE emotion, of living, virile feeling, enjoyed the divinely inspired emotion and feeling of religion, of patriotism, of benevolence, of humanitarianism, of every great, genuine soul experience. And this made his religious life and work the inspiration of a mighty and im- mortal spiritual impulse, an impulse which combines principle, reason, conviction, judgment, faith, cour- age, enthusiasm, and charity into the very genius of initiative and of achievement. Yes, while at College McCabe thought more of souls than of syllogisms and was more deeply interested in prayer-meetings and revivals than in Greek roots and logarithms. The “reminiscences” of Dr. Isaac Crook and of Prof. William F. Whitlock are very sweet reading where they represent young McCabe as going from room to room among the students to pray with them, comfort the sick, reclaim the backslider, and win the uncon- verted to Christ. He would leave College for days and weeks at a time to hold revivals in the country school-houses or in the churches of the towns and vil- lages beyond. In that work he won the love and confidence of thousands of God’s people in Ohio and easily became the most popular student of Wesleyan. Of course, his college standing suffered. In later years he may have regretted that he was not a more devoted student, and that he had not taken better advantage of his educational opportunities. ‘But if a closer application to study would have re- sulted in making of him anything other than what he was, then in the estimation of many a judicious mind it would have spoiled him. We learn from his old PREPARATION FOR THE MINISTRY si instructors and fellow-students just what those who knew him in life’s activities would have surmised, that in college he took to the languages, Greek, Latin, Hebrew, to poetry, letters, history, and elocution rather than to mathematics, logic, and philosophy. He had a noble imagination, a natural eloquence, a poet- ical temperament that took to what the old schoolmen called “the humanities” of learning. With all his spirituality he was not metaphysical. And while a man was rarely found who thought more clearly or reasoned more soundly and quickly, he seemed to ignore the roundabout and tedious forms of learning and to despise all pedantry. If in his mental pro- cesses he was not formally mathematical, logical, and | philosophical, he was more, grandly more; he was a man whose vision the mathematics of the spheres proved true, whose impulses and intuitions logic had to approve, and whose masterful convictions would make philosophy rewrite its categories. An evangel- ist with a soul aflame with spiritual fire, that is what this Charles McCabe was when, some will say, he should have been “a grind.” If a greater devotion to mathematics, logic, and philosophy would not have spoiled him; if they could have made him still a greater, wiser, more powerful, and more successful man than he was, who will not join him in the regret that he did not get more out of his College opportuni- ties? His health failed him while he was at Dela- ware—not from excessive application to his studies, but from two other causes. He had exhorted, prayed, sung, and preached himself almost to exhaustion in 52 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE his evangelistic work. Then his Uncle ‘“ Dow’’ fell dangerously ill of typhoid fever and Charles nursed him through it all, only to fall a victim soon after to the same disease. He recovered slowly, felt the need of a change of work at least, left Wesleyan, and, as soon as his returning health permitted, he took a coun- try school to teach. This ended his College career; but though he did not graduate he was later credited with having completed the course, and he became an alumnus of Ohio Wesleyan University of the class of 1860. VII THE STUDENT—MENTAL CHARACTER- ISTICS—BOOKS RAND old Ohio Wesleyan University gave Charles McCabe the taste for learning and the hunger for knowledge that remained with him through life. We are wont to think of him as the man of impulse and action that he was. His life was an illustration of the Demosthenian definition of elo- quence: “Action, action, action.” But he was more of a student and scholar than one would imagine his busy life could have permitted him to become. After all, what are these terms: “ student,” “ scho- lar,” “learning,” ‘education,’ but relative terms of indefinite and uncertain value? Beyond a certain narrow circumference, within which there is little disparity of ability between college-bred men, but few men distinguish themselves as great scholars to be recognised as world-authorities in any branch of learn- ing. Every man may be more learned than certain other men, but he will also be less learned than still others. The great majority of “scholars” are only comparatively scholarly; few are superlatively learned. And that few will not be among the superlatives to- morrow. Was Bishop McCabe a student and a scholar? ‘Yes, less a student and scholar than a few, 53 54 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE more a student and scholar than many. It is not every graduate of a University that carries on into life the desire to study and learn that characterised Charles McCabe in those years of early manhood when men of very active duties rarely find the time to devote to books. Bishop McCabe was what is known as a “well-read”? man. We find in his journal by the revelation which he there makes of his sincerest heart feelings that he had tasted only to forever after long to drink deep of the Pierian spring. Six years after he had left College and during the busy, exciting scenes of the Civil War days which engaged his energies to their utmost and crowded his time with multiplied ac- tivities, he often recorded in his journal his love of study and his desire for learning. “The life of a student suits me well. Alas, how little have I been able in my life to know its pleasures! From my early childhood sickness has followed swiftly upon the heels of close application, and when at College my religious fervour led me to spend all my energies in holding meetings and trying to win souls to Christ. But I do not regret it.” Again, in an almost pathetic strain, he writes, in that 1864 journal: “I want to be a student. O, how I pine for the student’s life once more! I most heartily wish I could go to Delaware, Ohio, for another term of four years, so that I might study beneath the watch- ful care of my uncle, Professor McCabe. I could much better than ever before appreciate the value of his society to me.” ; Again and ‘again the only record in his daily THE STUDENT 55 journal reads: “Spent the day chiefly in study,” “Spent the day in rest and study,” “ Spent the day in work, the evening in study,” “ I have been studying all day.” Thus when resting for a day from his exces- sive and exhausting labours, at home, in an hotel, on the railway train, or with some hospitable citizen, he turned with avidity to his books. He seemed to pen with great satisfaction such records as these: “ Spent the morning in study and reading, and much do I enjoy it. The life of a student has every charm for me. Yet the end draweth nigh, and I will soon be able to plunge into the busy world again. It is well, my taste runs in either way. I like a quiet or an active life.” “ How glad I am to get a day which I can devote almost entirely to study.” His studious inclinations and real scholarly aspira- tions were revealed in Libby Prison, where he organ- ised what he called “ My College.” In one of those precious Libby Prison letters to his wife he writes: “We have classes in French, Spanish, Latin, Greek, Rhetoric, English Grammar, Arithmetic, Algebra, Geometry, Natural Philosophy, etc.” In other letters he says: “I am making a careful and critical study of the Bible.” “I am studying French and Butler’s Analogy.” “I spend my time pleasantly, can already read French and am acquiring its difficult pronuncia- tion. I commit to memory and make a commentary upon a Psalm each day.” “Iam nearly through my French, have procured a German grammar and will enter upon its study to-day. Got ‘Les Miserables’ and read it, wonderful book!” “I am nearly through 56 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE the French testament and ready to read the German.” “T have translated and will copy a beautiful tragedy for you from the French, ‘ Athalie,’ by Racine.” A year after he had: been released from Libby Prison, and when ill, he wrote in his journal: ‘“ Have been trying to carry on my studies, but with very poor success. Ever since my confinement in prison I have tried to keep up my French. But my time has been very small for such things.” Much of his reading in those days, if not all of it, was snatched up from the stream of literature as he rushed along in his strenuous duties, as the real fighters of Gideon’s band caught up with the hand the water from the brook as they hurried on to the field of battle nor took the time to kneel down at every stream and lap their fill. If his reading was not of the heavy variety, it was always well chosen, both for its literary style and for its educational value and patriotic and moral inspira- tion. He did not waste his precious time poring over tomes of theological and metaphysical dust, and he cared little or nothing for those endless quibbles over the “tweedledums” and “tweedledees” of philo- sophical speculation. He did not have to run to the last catalogue of books on German rationalism or destructive criticism to find out whether or not the foundations of Christianity had given way and the Gospel had been proven a cunningly devised fable. To his practical way of thinking there was a great body of living literature which it was much more scholarly and sensible to be familiar with than with all the specu- THE STUDENT 57 lative philosophy and science falsely so-called that impractical and supercilious pedants imagine one must know in order to be considered scholarly and learned. Real, living, practical learning was to Bishop McCabe’s mind beyond price, and no man appreciated, admired, coveted that genuine learning more than he. But no man had a keener wit and saner common sense to dis- criminate between real learning and sham learning, the possession of scholarship and the pretence of scholar- ship. In this day with his great work done, and so nobly done, we read with an admiring and affectionate inter- est the brief notes made in his journal more than forty years ago that tell us what books he read, how they impressed him, and what he had to say of them at the time. In addition to the common run of books such as the commentaries on the Scriptures and the general theological works, he delighted in perusing the writings of the great English divines such as Newton, Beveridge, Hall, Taylor, South, and Robertson, no less than Wesley. He preserved copious extracts from their sermons in his journal. Of Bishop Hall’s “ Con- templations ” he said: “ It is a quaint old book, full of the rarest gems of thought and worthy the study of every Christian, and especially of every Christian min- ister.” He was a diligent student of the hymnists and with his own gift of song made himself master of the poetry and music of Christianity’s sweetest hym- nology. He placed Bonar next to Charles Wesley as a writer of sacred songs. He was particularly interested in history and biog- 58 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE raphy, as he found in events and in the lives of men the evidences of the Gospel’s divine influence in the world. His reading included Mosheim’s “ Eccle- siastical History,” Stevens’ “ History of Methodism,” the works of Gibbon, Hume, and Macaulay, and he was a great admirer of the productions of Victor Hugo and of Shakespeare. He read nearly all of Washington Irving’s books, and in his admiration for this elegant writer he was not satisfied with perusing the most important of them but once, but read them over and over again. The comments which he made upon Irving’s works give us an insight into the thor- oughness of his study, and his quick appreciation of the best points made by an author. He lays down “ Knickerbocker ” with the reflection: ‘I have been greatly amused with the book. I suppose the New York Dutchmen can scarcely forgive the author for raising a national laugh at the expense of their worthy ancestors.” His remarks after reading ‘“‘ The Alhambra” are truly valuable, as they open to our view the romantic tendencies of his own mind. He writes: ‘‘ The author has a great power to hold the attention by the relation of old Moorish legends and hobgoblin stories. I confess to a considerable share of the author’s liking for such matters. When I was a child the mysteries of the ‘Arabian Nights’ pos- sessed no difficulties for my credulity. ‘Although per- haps I am somewhat wiser than when, with eyes fairly starting from their sockets, I pored over the won- drous tales, still I do not find it difficult even now to : follow the fortunes of some enchanted warrior with a THE STUDENT 59 deal of real interest, really possessing a bona fide desire that some influence might be brought to break the magic spell. Irving has made me think better of Spain; a journey thither would not be without its attractions. I would enjoy it, if for no other purpose than to see the Alhambra.” ‘While this extract reveals a mind appreciative of the artistic, poetical, and romantic, another reflection shows how plain matters of fact of only common- sense interest impressed him: “ The author tells us what I never knew before, that Seville is renowned for its good bread. If that be so, some ladies I wot of might be profited by a short sojourn there. All ladies should know how to make good bread themselves, or should know at least how to instruct others. I will say, however, that my wife need not go to Seville.” After reading the “Crayon Sketches” he writes: “Irving was an observing traveller. He would note events and make them of great interest in the telling, which hundreds of travellers would entirely over- look. And those events, too, which more than any others give us the best conception of a character, or bring most readily before us the scenes through which the author passed. True to the very life are the descriptions of Irving; what we read brings the whole thing before us.” “* Newstead Abbey ’ I read with little interest. The very name of Lord Byron inspires gloomy recollec- tions. What an amazing prostitution of brilliant genius to the work of the destroyer! Would that when he flung away the boon of pardon and faith in 60 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE our Lord Jesus he might also have flung away the resplendent talents which bewildered and bewitched the world and lured so many young men from the path of duty!” We can easily appreciate this tender-hearted man’s admiration for the character of Oliver Goldsmith, as portrayed by the graceful and sympathetic pen of ‘Washington Irving. Nothing more spontaneously natural appears in these literary comments than Chap- lain McCabe’s appreciation of the great and tender humanity of Goldsmith. It touches a warm spot in every kind heart to read these words: “ I am charmed by the character of Goldsmith as presented by Irving. I like his very faults. His generosity and extreme poverty were unpleasant companions pecuniarily, yet who is not rich that has learned to give, to give even all his living, to relieve the wants of those around him? No more magnificent compliment could be paid Gold- smith than that the distressed never applied to him in vain! This book will make me a more careful student of Goldsmith’s writings. I know now amid what diffi- culties he composed them all. How he compelled his overtaxed brain to labour on so that he might have the means to pay debts contracted by his improvident generosity!’’ Alas, was the great-hearted McCabe a Goldsmith raised to a higher power and in helping the poor, in assuming the great debts of churches, did he not often mortgage all his energies and hypothecate all his future time and strength with optimistic cheerful- ness? Possibly he was thinking of what his dearest friends might have called his own “improvident gen- a THE STUDENT 61 erosity ” when he wrote: “ Irving winds up his Biog- raphy with this remark, ‘Let not his frailties be re- membered,’ said Johnson, ‘he was a very great man.’ But for our part we rather say let them be remem- bered, since their tendency is to endear; and we ques- tion whether he himself would not feel gratified in having his reader, after dwelling with admiration on the proofs of his greatness, close the volume with the kind-hearted phrase so often and familiarly ejaculated of: ‘ Poor Goldsmith.’ ” Irving’s voluminous “ Life of Washington” is in- deed a very comprehensive history of the American Revolution. It is no light undertaking to read it through, but it seemed a delight to the Chaplain to feast his patriotic soul on its fascinating pages. He writes: “T am reading to-day Irving’s ‘Life of Washington,’ 2d Vol.; have read it before, but the charm of the author’s style, together with a desire to refresh my memory concerning the events of the Revolution, have lured me to the book again. One thing strikes me as never before: The doubtful patriotism of the army in the first two years of the war with Britain. Our troops now (1864) fighting to preserve the nation lose noth- ing by comparison with those who fought to give it birth. Had they such a foe as we, our independence had never been won. Live the Republic!” “ Am already in the midst of the 3d volume of the ‘Life of Washington.’ God’s hand is plainly visible in all this history. Surely he is our God yet and will not forsake us in our hour of gloom. God save the Republic!” 62 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE These and many other similar reflections show with what a thorough spirit of inquiry and appreciation he tread all the books to which he devoted the spare hours of those most laborious years. On January 22, 1864, he wrote in his journal: “TI propose the following for a course of study to be faith- fully pursued by me until finished: Modern Languages. English. French. German. Ancient Languages. Greek. Hebrew. Homer’s Iliad, 4 Books. Latin. Herodotus, 2 Books. Greek. Xenophon’s Memorabilia. Greek Testament. Mathematics. Prometheus, Bourdon. Demosthenes, De Corona. Geometry. . Mechanics. 5: Latin. Livy. Hebrew. ; de Senectute. G : Cicero de Amicitia, esenius, and vs Hebrew Bibl de Officiis. PPO iret Virgil. Horace. Tacitus. To what extent the Chaplain carried out his pro- posal to master this course of study does not appear. It is enough for us to know that the spirit and aims of the student were not sacrificed even in those trying days when overwork weakened his bodily powers and endangered his very life. Moreover, this one thing is clearly manifest in his reading and study, that he wasted no time either on things trifling and superficial, or on books of bottomless depth and endless specu- THE STUDENT 63 lation devoid of practical utility and inspiration. To him who turned every possession of blood, nerve, brain, heart, knowledge, eloquence, song, magnetism, and life into action and achievement for the promotion of the Kingdom of God, the salvation of men, and the preservation and glory of his country, only the books that increased his resources of available and practical power seemed interesting enough to challenge his con- scientious attention. How do the mere boast of learning, the pride of academic scholarship, and the pretence of supercilious pedantry fade into puerility in the light of that splendour of beneficent achieve- ment which crowns the life of tireless and glorious action ! “For the dreamer saw the sorrow and he heard the bitter cries, And he left his dreams of morning, and his earthly Paradise; And he changed his lyre of music, for the bugle of the fight, And he sounded forth his challenge to the myrmidons of night, To the tyrant and oppressor who had done the people wrong, While he led the marching millions with the summons of his song.” VIII SCHOOL-TEACHING—MARRIAGE— PASTORATE OON after young McCabe had recovered from S his illness at college and had found a little country school to teach, a request came to the University for a student to fill the principalship of the High School at Ironton. McCabe was recommended by Bishop Thompson, then President of Wesleyan, and was called to the position, which for two years he filled with conspicuous success. He raised the standard of study and discipline and carried an enthusiasm into his work that was quickly imparted to the students. One of those Ironton schoolboys, Mr. Edward S. Wilson, writes his interesting recollections of Mr. McCabe’s advent as principal: “T was a member of the school at the time and recall with what interest the pupils gathered at the windows and watched for the appearance of the new teacher. Some of us who had seen him at Sunday School the day before were crowded with questions as to his looks. One boy said he had eyes like Daniel Webster, and another that his brow was like Napoleon Bonaparte’s, all of which opinions were symptoms of softening toward the new teacher. A third boy rounded up the opinions by saying: ‘I’ll bet we'll like 64 SCHOOL-TEACHING 65 him.’ In the meantime he had disappeared in the building and went to the superintendent’s room, where he remained until the bell rang for school to begin, and then he entered the room and took his seat on the plat- form. The pupils were all in their places and the silence was almost solemn on the interchange of glances. Mr. McCabe then arose, and in a moment broke the silence thus: ‘My young friends, I am a Christian, and I intend to conduct this school on Chris- tian principles and the doctrine of the Golden Rule.’ In this manner ‘he spoke for two or three minutes and then called out the first class. From that moment the school was under the spell of a lofty personality. The discipline was largely the influence of an affectionate friend and not often was this benign sway disturbed. . . In those days, Mr. McCabe was often invited out into the country to preach and he always asked me to go with him. Those were delightful experiences. Here it is fifty years since I was his pupil. It is not simply the recollection that comes to me across that half-century that I record, but the memory that touched the every-day experiences in that long lapse of years with a joy and gratitude that I had the good fortune to be associated with so charming and noble a man as Mr. McCabe. I remember him as one of the purest, sweetest souls I ever knew.” Many an old pupil with Mr. Wilson and many an old resident of Ironton remembers how Principal McCabe enlisted the pupils in the beautifying of the school grounds by planting trees, many of which still flourish there to tell how happy and mutually inspiring was that 66 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE comradeship of master and students fifty years ago. Principal McCabe continued that earnest evangelistic, soul-winning preaching which distinguished his sin- gularly devoted life at college. Ironton and the surrounding country felt his spiritual power as had Delaware, and with all the energy that he put into the school, for he never did any work half-heartedly, he still found time and strength and a most zealous disposition to lead souls to Christ. During the Civil War the Chaplain revisited Iron- ton and noted in his journal the memories and senti- ments which were then awakened in his mind. “ Iron- ton, Ohio. In my old home once more. Here some delightful years glided away. I was happy here and I trust useful. The boys and girls of my old school have nearly all turned out well. They are blessings to the communities where they live. The most of my ‘boys are in the army. Some have been killed and others have died of wounds and disease. My school grounds look splendidly. I want to rear a monument: in their midst in memory of the noble dead of the school and of the town, who have given their lives for their country. I do not doubt such a project would succeed.” But those two years of school teaching were made more memorable still in their bearing upon Charles McCabe’s future destiny of happiness and success, by his meeting there with Miss Rebecca Peters, the daughter of John Peters, one of Ironton’s prominent iron manufacturers. This acquaintance, which was formed during the vacation which Miss Peters was HAVO Suv GAdVOeM NIVIGVHO SCHOOL-TEACHING 67 spending at home, ripened into an engagement after she had graduated at the Wesleyan Female Seminary of Cincinnati, and on July 6, 1860, they were married. Thus began that happy union of forty-six years which were filled with uninterrupted domestic felicity. Not only was Charles McCabe a lover to his dying day, but he never concealed the affection which he had for the woman who was the pride of his eyes and the joy of his life. With a naive gallantry char- acteristic of his honest, ardent nature, he took delight in letting the world know how tenderly he loved the wife whom God had given to him as an helpmate. His beloved “ Rebecca’ must share in all his suc- cesses and honors as she shared in all his trials and struggles. In the humble beginning of his ministry, when they had no luxuries and but scant supply of the common necessaries of life, she was the cheerful sharer of his burdens. During the dark days of the Civil War, when the call of his country separated them in their young married life, and when his imprisonment in Libby filled her with sorrow, anxiety, and fearful ap- prehension, her every thought was of him; but noth- ing could quench her patriotic devotion to the Union cause, for which her husband was ready to lay down his life. In the work of the Christian Commission she frequently attended her husband on his rapid jour- neys, and in his weariness and exhaustion often nursed him back, as it seemed, from the very gates of death. Then in all the zeal and unremitting toil of those great secretarial years on and up to the high 68 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE and holy dignity and consecrated devotion of his Episcopal career, she proved herself the God-given helpmate to whom he took every fitting opportunity to award the meed of affectionate and grateful praise. From the many tender paternal expressions found in his journal and letters we learn how full was his joy in the gift of a son with whom God had blessed their union. John P. McCabe, the only child of Charles Cardwell and Rebecca Peters McCabe, was born De- cember 29, 1861, in Putnam, Zanesville, Ohio. In those days a rule of the Ohio Conference required that a young minister should be in the Conference at least two years before he married. But brother McCabe used to say that he “ married first and read the rule afterwards, for he was afraid some one would carry Beccie off if he waited.” He joined the Ohio Conference and was ordained a Deacon by Bishop Matthew Simpson, at Gallipolis, Ohio, September 23, 1860. His first appointment was Putnam, since incorpo- rated into the city of Zanesville. Though the salary was very meagre, he and his devoted wife, who had been reared in luxury, entered upon the work most cheerfully, and without a thought or ambition, save that of doing the duties of the Methodist preacher in saving souls and shepherding the flock of God in a quiet and contented pastorate. This, however, was not to be his destiny. Attractive and useful as the most circumscribed pastorate may have seemed to his zealous but unambitious nature, events were im- pending that were to call him from this peaceful and SCHOOL-TEACHING 69 congenial field of labour into prominent public activi- ties wherein his extraordinary genius for leadership was to be demonstrated and utilised and the way providentially opened through which his entire life, with the exception of a brief respite of a few months, was to be consecrated to most arduous but brilliant and successful official service for his country and the Church. IX THE CIVIL WAR—“ CHAPLAIN ” McCABE P “HE Fall of 1860 was epochal, Abraham Lin- coln was elected President of the United States and the Nation trembled on the brink of civil war. The inauguration of Mr. Lincoln, on March 4, 1861, was effected amid the ominous growl- ings of that spirit of rebellion which soon in madness cried: “Havoc! And let slip the dogs of war.” Pastor McCabe had been settled in his charge at Putnam but a few months when Fort Sumter was fired upon, and armed and organised secession was threatening the downfall of the national Union. To so ardent a patriot as young Pastor McCabe the news of the insult offered the flag of freedom came like'a bugle call to duty. The peace and quiet of a pastoral charge lost their charm for him, while the screech of fife and roll of drum thrilled his blood with unwonted excitement, fired his tongue with a new eloquence, and roused his spirit to the highest pitch of patriotic enthusiasm. To this end Charles McCabe had been trained from infancy. He drew the love of liberty from his sainted mother’s breast. The sweet and vital air of freedom pervaded his boy- hood home. He grew up among a people who hated slavery and were the first and foremost in opposing 70 FAGVON TIAMGUV) SATUVHO THE CIVIL WAR. 71 its extension and labouring for its extirpation. The original founders of the Commonwealth of Ohio, with Jefferson’s codperation, insisted that the great Ordi- nance of 1787 should include the prohibition of slavery. And though defeated in its first wise and righteous aims for the widening of the bounds of freedom, Ohio, from its organisation into Statehood, fronted her noble river with a kindly but dignified and unflinching resistance of slavery’s extension. And to the black and swelling tide that threatened to break all barriers and sweep in unrestrained cruelty over all the land she said: “ Thus far, but no further!” And there, there at the Ohio, were slavery’s dark waves stayed. Ohio had been the main route of the famous Underground Railway by which thousands of fugi- tive slaves had been aided in their flight for Canada and freedom. When young McCabe entered Ohio Wesleyan University he found it a hotbed of aboli- tion, liberty, and patriotic unionism. The McCabes, led on by that noblest Roman of them all, Professor Lorenzo Dow McCabe, were the blackest kind of black abolitionists. The Methodist Episcopal Church, in her spirit and laws, in her laymen and ministers, was pledged to universal freedom, and to the resistance and destruction of the demoniacal institution of slavery. Men like Chase, Giddings, Wade, and John Brown had been teaching their radical views to the rising genera- tion, and this pure air of freedom and patriotism did Charles McCabe inhale into his soul. Ohio had re- sponded promptly and gloriously to Mr. Lincoln’s call for soldiers to defend the Union, and the whole State 72 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE ‘ was aflame with patriotism when Pastor McCabe was invited by the citizens of Putnam and Zanesville to speak at the union meetings, and with his eloquent tongue, now a very tongue of fire, inspire men to vol- unteer by thousands to join the Union armies. It was largely through his influence and by the inspiration of his eloquence that the 122d Regiment of Ohio Volun- teer Infantry was raised. Of this famous regiment he was appointed chaplain on October 8, 1862, and he received his commission from Governor William Den- nison. That he might be able to exercise all the func- tions of an ordained minister, and administer the sacraments in the army, the disciplinary requirements were not insisted upon in his case, and he was ordained an elder by Bishop Thomas A. Morris, at Zanesville, Ohio, September 7, 1862. What a record Ohio has to boast of in the history of the Civil War! She sent 313,180 men into the Army and Navy, and 35,475 of her brave sons perished in defence of their country. Foremost in the counsels of the Nation, as foremost on the field of war, stood the men of that great Commonwealth. Stanton, the Secretary of War; Chase, the Secretary of the Treas- ury and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, were of Ohio. Joshua R. Giddings, a tower of strength in the National House of Representatives; Senator Ben Wade, Chairman of the Committee on the Conduct of the War, and Senator John Sherman, Chairman of the Finance Committee, hailed from the same State. Gen- erals Grant, Sherman, and Sheridan were sons of Ohio, as were McClellan, Rosecrans, Buell, McDowell, Custer, THE CIVIL WAR 73 McCook, Mitchell, Schenck, Steedman, Garfield, and Hayes; and so too was young McKinley, who as Quar- termaster-Sergeant distinguished himself on Antie- tam’s bloody field. And as Ohio furnished the great Secretary of War, the great Secretary of the Treasury, and by nativity the great Commanding General, so did she give to the Union Army its most popular and dis- tinguished Chaplain, Charles C. McCabe, ever after known and universally honoured as “Chaplain McCabe.” As the Boys in Blue learned to love him in those great war days, and as the old soldiers of our country continued to cherish his friendship and revere his character, while their hearts thrilled responsively at the very mention of his name, so through life did that sympathetic, eloquent, glorious Chaplain hold in the deepest affection of his patriotic heart the veterans of the Civil War. He never lost his interest in the old soldier. The sight of the little bronze button on the lapel of even the shabbiest coat always prompted the outstretched hand and the hearty greeting of the com- rade. Many an old soldier among the living and among the dead could testify to the generosity of Chap- lain McCabe, who never saw a comrade in distress that he did not minister to his needs. From his own pocket, and by contributions from his friends among the rich, he helped many a poor comrade out of want and helped also to keep the roof over the heads of many a dead hero’s widow and orphans. Nor did he ever neglect an opportunity to give an old comrade the godly, spiritual admonition that might lead him to lay hold on eternal life, One of the most touching yet per- 74 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE fectly characteristic scenes in the closing years of his life was enacted on the streets of Trenton, New Jersey. He had come to the city to assist at the service of burning a mortgage that had been paid off on Warren Street Methodist Episcopal Church, of which Rev. John Gourley was the pastor. As he stepped out from the station upon the street he saw a man staggering along under the influence of liquor. Upon his coat was the sacred little bronze button of the Grand Army of the Republic. The Bishop stepped to his side, took his hand, and greeted him as comrade. Then he walked along arm in arm with him, telling how sorry he was to see an old soldier in that condition and urging him to accept Christ and promise to meet him in Heaven. Strange sight, indeed, was it for the passers-by to look upon, a Bishop walking up the street with a drunken man! But it was just like McCabe. The widow of an old Libby Prison comrade had nothing to depend upon but a brief manuscript left by her husband, describing the famous escape through the tunnel of Libby. Most generously the Century Com- pany had it printed in pamphlet form and without charge; then Chaplain McCabe was instrumental in selling 20,000 of those pamphlets at ten cents a copy, enabling the poor widow to realise $2,000. Just like McCabe! One of his last acts of generous comrade- ship was coming to Washington and lecturing in the Metropolitan Church for the benefit of the temporary Home for Old Soldiers. Never did he face a more magnificent audience, and never did he lecture more acceptably. How tender, how eloquent, how inspiring THE CIVIL WAR 75 he was! How the old soldiers wept and laughed and cheered! How they surged about him and shook his hand and hailed him “ McCabe,” and “‘ Comrade,” and “Chaplain,” and “ Charlie,” and forgot to call him “Bishop”! How many who knew him in camp or. hospital or prison cell, on the march or on the battle- field, or by the quiet fireside, or in the Grand Army En- campment in the later years of peace, could truly have said: ‘*« We loved him so, followed him, honoured him, Lived in his mild and magnificent eye, Learned his great Language, caught his clear accents, Made him our pattern to live and to die.’ ” Chaplain McCabe was a true and devoted spiritual shepherd of his regiment. He carried into the Army the same evangelistic spirit that had distinguished him at College. To win men to Christ was his consuming passion. What an evangelist he would have made! With his great zeal, his emotional nature, his splendid eye, lighted with celestial fire, his wonderful command of vigorous,' clean-cut, Anglo-Saxon language, his knowledge of the Scriptures, his great humanity, his magnetic eloquence, and his power and pathos in song, he would have made an evangelist of that high and noble order to which belonged such glorious soul- winners as Finney, Edwards, Tennant, and Whitefield. The chaplaincy of a regiment of volunteer soldiers was not sought by him as a mere sinecure, it was a field of Christian and patriotic labour, to which he brought all the intense devotion and earnestness of his religious nature. How he loved the men! How tenderly he 76 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE cared for them in their trials and sufferings! How solicitous was he for their welfare, temporal and spir- itual! How he laboured for their conversion and with what joy did he hear them confess Christ! He could not have been more zealous in building up a Church than he was in developing the spiritual, religious life of the regiment. His preaching and singing charmed the boys; they called him “the singing Chaplain.” His great-hearted kindness and sympathy won their confi- dence, their veneration, and their affection; they came to look upon him as their truest friend. His spiritual power over them grew with the trials, hardships, and dangers of war. His meetings were always well at- tended, and they were not mere formal religious exer- cises, but seasons of spiritual refreshing from the presence of the Lord. He was always evangelistic and preached for immediate results in conviction and salva- tion, and rarely did a meeting close without some con- versions. Chaplain McCabe’s indifference to, if not his con- tempt for, all red tape in ecclesiastical, parliamentary, or military law and discipline was one of his amusing weaknesses. He had no patience with petty tech- nicalities that hindered him in his good work. The parliamentary quibbling that blocked the great wheels of important legislation in a General Conference or the minor details of camp rules and regulations that inter- fered with a revival meeting among the soldiers, he could nonchalantly sweep aside. His breaches of the technicalities of official and parliamentary rules were generally condoned with the same good nature with THE CIVIL WAR 77 which they were committed, for who did not know that he never transgressed a petty rule of form but to more quickly and surely get at the accomplishment of a great good. His disposition to ignore the restraints of regu- lation and the technicalities of discipline, in his zeal to carry out a wise and godly purpose, did not always meet with the same good-natured indifference in the Army that it was treated with later in Secretarial office, the General Conferences, and the annual Conferences of the Church, when brethren would smile and say: “That is just like McCabe.” No, his very zeal for the spiritual welfare of the soldiers once, at least, led him to an offense of insubordination that resulted in his arrest and his repentance. In his speech at a recep- tion in Philadelphia, in 1904, he gave this charming bit of reminiscence which illustrates several character- istics of his nature: “I went down to the army and joined my regiment. It was not yet quite time for the forward move, and I got the boys to help me build a big arbor church and we started a protracted meeting —meeting every day and every night; fully five hun- dred souls were converted at those meetings. I met my old Colonel the other day; he is in his eighty-fourth year, and he reminded me of an incident I had for- gotten. He said that one day during that protracted meeting, when he went out for the usual three o’clock dress parade, the soldiers were not present. He stood there almost alone on the parade ground. The bugle had called the men to the order of the day, but they did not respond. The Colonel shouted to the Adju- tant: ‘Where are the men?’ and he said, ‘The 78 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE Chaplain has them all in that church, and he declares that the meeting is so good that he won’t let them come.’ The Colonel was angry. He sent a message to me and ordered me to dismiss the meeting. I sent back word that I could not dismiss the meeting; it was going on with such great power that I did not feel it would be right. The Colonel then sent a guard and arrested me and brought me up to headquarters, where he remonstrated with me for interfering with the mili- tary discipline of the camp. The Colonel said I was out of sorts for two or three days, but that I came one day and lifted up the flap of his tent and put my head in and said: ‘Colonel, you were right and I was wrong; henceforth I will obey orders.’” Just like McCabe! Yes, and another act was just like McCabe, brave, unconventional, unselfish McCabe! It was the act that resulted in his capture by the Confederates and his incarceration in Libby Prison. But let his old Col- onel, W. H. Ball, tell how Chaplain McCabe was appre- ciated by the boys of the 122d Ohio, and how it was -for them he sacrificed his liberty and endangered his life. The brave Colonel, whom the Chaplain loved and honoured as a patriot and hero, once introduced him to a Zanesville audience in part as follows: “Tn the summer of 1862 he was ministering to a Methodist congregation in Putnam, now the tenth ward of this city. The 122d Regiment was fortunate in securing his services as Chaplain. From the first his sympathies went out to the boys. They could be subjected to no exposure, no hardship, no danger, which he did not desire to share with them, none which THE CIVIL WAR 79 he did not share with them if in his power todoso. In the hospital he was like a gentle ministering angel. He was by the bedside of the dying to receive the last mes- sage and to give the last consolation. He was the life of the regiment. I can recall his strong musical and eloquent voice as it went out in Union war songs on the banks of the South Branch and at Winchester. It is difficult to believe that in this Christian country a man would be captured and imprisoned in Libby for teach- ing the precepts of Christianity and ministering to the dying, yet it was for this only that the Chaplain was sent to Richmond, where he acquired his prison ex- perience. I believe, in my heart I believe, he was the most efficient, the best, the most manly and perfect mili-, tary chaplain that ever trod the soil of America. With a heart as large as humanity, he would not have swerved from a moral or religious or a patriotic duty to save his life. I honour and I love him.” If they could speak to-day, would not all the gallant boys of the 122d Ohio once more follow their grand old Colonel and with him rise up and call him blessed who in the days that tried men’s souls was their beloved, brave, and glorious Chaplain? X CAPTURED—* ON TO RICHMOND” EE was pressing on toward Pennsylvania with his bold but desperate purpose to invade the North, and, as many supposed, to seize Harris- burg, capture Baltimore, and strike the heart of the nation by marching with triumph into Washington. General Milroy’s brave but wholly inadequate force in the Shenandoah Valley was powerless to check or even daunt the advancing Confederates, who, under the leadership of Ewell and Early, easily swept them aside. The affair at Winchester * impressed the Confederates as a good omen and an auspicious opening of Lee’s campaign of Northern invasion. The tide rolled proudly on, in assumed contempt of Hooker and the Army of the Potomac, only to reach its high-water mark in less than three weeks’ time and to dash itself in utter defeat against the Gibraltar of the Union power under Meade at famous Gettysburg. On the 16th of June, two weeks and three days be- fore the first day’s fight at Gettysburg, Chaplain McCabe was captured at Winchester. His regiment, with others, and General Milroy himself, after defeat by Early, escaped to Harper’s Ferry. But the Chap- lain and the regimental surgeon, Dr. W. M. Houston, * Not the battle famous for Sheridan’s ride. 80 “ON TO RICHMOND” 81 in their devotion to the wounded and dying, refused to leave the field of battle. The Chaplain had seen but eight months of service. His capture was the result of his humanity and his unflinching devotion to the wounded and dying on the bloody field of Winchester. Then by the inhumanity of General Early, who seemed to love a brutal joke more than he pitied wounded and dying soldiers, he was sent to Richmond to be incar- cerated in Libby Prison. Because Chaplain McCabe was a preacher of the Gospel, Early argued that he, with other Northern preachers, had been responsible for the war and were needlessly zealous in their pa- triotism and had raised the cry, “ On to Richmond; ” therefore this Chaplain should go “on to Richmond.” How Early’s brutal treatment contrasted with the hu- manity and soldierly magnanimity of General John B. Gordon! On the solicitation of Chaplain McCabe, Gordon placed ambulances at his disposal to convey the wounded from the battlefield into Winchester, where they could be humanely and surgically treated. Chap- lain McCabe always entertained the highest regard for the soldierly qualities and humane magnanimity of General Gordon, than whom the South did not possess a more gallant soldier or a more high-minded gentleman. It is due General Early to say that his feelings toward the Chaplain evidently softened and that he permitted the Yankee preacher to pursue his mission of mercy among the soldiers. There is still preserved the following order in the autograph of General Early: 82 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE “Hd. Qu’ts., Winchester. June 17th, 1863. Permit C, C. McCabe, a Chaplain of the 122d Ohio Regiment, to visit the prisoners in the fort when he desires, “J. A. EARLy, Maj.-Genl. Com’g.” The Chaplain’s first letter to his wife was dated, Winchester, Va., June 16, 1863. “We have been fighting for the past three days. The battle went against us. I am alive and well, and I do earnestly hope this will reach you and relieve the suspense which you must have felt. I am trying to relieve the sufferings of the wounded. War is terri- ble. Cheer up, Becca. I shall see you ere long, I hope. I do hope you can get this. I will write again soon and tell you how to write to me if I am compelled to remain here. I have not time to write any more now. Write the following letters at once and put them into the Postoffice at Xenia. Mrs. Doctor Houston, Urbana, Ohio. Mrs. E. B. Brady, Cadiz, Ohio. Mrs. Charles Ferris, Cleveland, Ohio. Tell them their husbands are well.” This letter did not reach Old Point Comfort before July 4th, the last day of Gettysburg’s great battle, and “ON TO RICHMOND” 83 it was not received by Mrs. McCabe at Jamestown, Ohio, until July 14th, or nearly a month after the Chaplain was taken prisoner at Winchester. When the above letter was written the Chaplain evi- dently did not know what was to be his fate. He doubtless supposed, in the humane generosity of his own nature, that chaplains and surgeons who were found on the field of battle, ministering to the wounded and the dying, would not be molested and that when their beneficent work was done they would be immune from capture. But he had not to deal with a Gordon or a Lee; his fate was in the control of Early, and Early thought the safest place for Union chaplains and surgeons was in Libby Prison. Chaplain McCabe rose cheerfully superior to his misfortune, nor could his own gallant Christian heart find room for bitterness or complaint. The rather did he even then look on the “bright side” of life in military captivity. His second letter after the battle was written from Winchester, June 19, 1863. The Chaplain does not seem to have fully realised that he was then a prisoner of war. His letter indicates that he expected soon to complete the duties that kept him in Winchester, min- istering to the sick and wounded Union soldiers. He seemed to be in blissful ignorance of the fact that he had been captured by the enemy and was not at liberty to leave Winchester even when his merciful work was done, or else he wished to encourage his wife with that idea. This second letter is of personal and historic interest. 84 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE “ My Dear WIFE :— “T wrote you, via Richmond, that our regiment had been in battle; 125 of them were captured, and quite a number killed and wounded. The most escaped to Harper’s Ferry. I might have done so, but Dr. Hous- ton and I preferred to remain behind with the sick and wounded. I am glad I did so, as my services were greatly needed. J amin excellent health. Dismiss all anxiety. Iam exceedingly joyful in the performance of my duty; never was I more tranquil, never more cheerful. We have been treated so kindly by our captors! I shall never forget some of them while I live. General Early * placed enough ambulances at my disposal to bring our wounded to town. I cannot write as I would under other circumstances, and for your eye alone. I saved nothing of my property but your let- ters, which have so greatly contributed to my happi- ness. I shall not leave Winchester until our sick and wounded are out of danger.” Thus it will be seen that his devotion to the wounded soldiers left on the field prevented his escape to Harper’s Ferry. after the battle of Winchester, and his very humanity and courage gave the enemy the oppor- tunity to make him a prisoner. But in it all, Chaplain McCabe was a true hero, rejoicing in his very perils that he could be of help to the more unfortunate, who * He evidently means Gordon, as in his lecture he always re- ferred to Gordon, instead of Early, as having done this kind- ness. In this letter he may give the credit to Early simply because he ranked Gordon. “sg “ON TO RICHMOND ” 85 had been wounded and captured in battle. This cheer- ful, optimistic, and most triumphant Christian spirit he maintained through all his imprisonment. Nothing more clearly reveals his generous, forgiving nature than the bright aspect which he was ever throw- ing upon his situation and the credit which he gave the Confederates for treating him as considerately as the exigencies of war allowed. Extracts from his letters throw light on the prison life in Richmond and reveal his own spiritual experiences, and especially his dispo- sition always to look on the “bright side.” Indeed, his greatest solicitude was for his wife and father and the other dear ones at home, lest they should be need- lessly anxious and distressed in mind over his situation. He is always urging them to cheer up, be hopeful, and look on the bright side, for all will be well. XI LIBBY PRISON EFORE he wrote his next letter the Chaplain’s B fate had been determined, but it did not seem to cast a single cloud over the serenity and cheerfulness of his spirit. This letter is written in lead-pencil, and is dated Richmond, July 1st, 1863: “ My Dear WIFE :— “T am now in Richmond; don’t know how long I shall be kept here; hope to see you soon. I am in fine health and the best of spirits. Be cheerful, Beccie; all will be well.” Although he had not received a word from his wife since his capture and was solicitous for her health and peace of mind, the same Christian cheerfulness is mani- fest in his next letter, which was written July 4th, and, though he knew it not at the time, on the day of Meade’s great victory over Lee at Gettysburg. “ Richmond, Va., July 4, 1863. “ My Dearest BETTY :— “T have no doubt you are longing to hear from me often, and I will write as often as I can. I hope you 86 LIBBY PRISON 87 have received my former letters. How I wish I could learn of your good health. I am perfectly well; indeed, I never had better health than to-day. Take good care of my little boy. I hope to see you at the appointed time. There is a large number of officers here. Willie, my little boy, is with me. Write to Mrs, Dr. Houston, Urbana, Ohio, and tell her you have heard from me and that her husband is well and cheer- ful. I remained behind at Winchester to take care of our wounded. Our regiment escaped capture and I could have done so, but thought it my duty to stay and I am so glad I did so. Be happy, Betty. All will be well. I must not write a long letter, as this must be read by the Captain who has charge of us, and we are of course limited as to space.” It is evident from the following letter that he does not anticipate a long imprisonment, but expects soon to be exchanged. His hopes, however, were to be dashed to the ground, but his good cheer was not to fail him. “Richmond, Va., July 10, 1863. “My Own Dear WIFE: “Here I am still in Richmond. There is some trouble about the cartel. I don’t know what it is. Nearly 300 officers are here now. My greatest, indeed my only, anxiety is for you. Promise me that you will be cheerful and happy. Wait patiently for my coming. Think of the years of our blessed future and ‘save yourself for prosperous days.’ That last line 88 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE is a beautiful quotation from Virgil, of which I have often told you. My health is still first-rate. I am trying to improve my time as best I can in a careful and critical study of the Bible. Time does not hang heavily. Conscious of my own integrity, and looking forward to a blessed immortality, Iam happy. Take care of Johnnie, my darling boy. Were I permitted to do so, I would write you a long, long letter, just as I used to, but the rule is just. I have not one word of complaint to make.” Thus it will be seen that he was already looking on the “bright side of life in Libby Prison,” and with Christian fortitude and good humour was making the best of his situation. He now begins to date his letters from “ Libby Prison.” From that day to this the names “ Chaplain McCabe” and “ Libby Prison” have been intimately associated in the minds of the American people. In the great work of his subsequent ministry his expe- rience in that famous, if not infamous, prison was providentially used for the advancement of patriotism, universal freedom and civilisation, and the Kingdom of God by the multiplication of churches in our own land and by the promotion of Christian missions in all the world. What a power for good came into Chap- lain McCabe’s life through the so-called misfortunes of his capture at Winchester, and how God made His enemies to praise Him when He permitted them to send this Chaplain to Libby Prison! From that prison he was to come with a message which for nearly half-a- LIBBY PRISON 89 century was to thrill as with a bugle’s blast the heart of freedom and the soul of Christian philanthropy. No tongue or pen has given to the world a more vivid portrayal of prison life in Libby than was conveyed in the burning eloquence of Chaplain McCabe. It is due to his memory to say that all the arguments and ex- planations which Confederate apologists have advanced in extenuation of the miseries and cruelties charged against the management of Libby Prison have never equalled in their influence upon the Northern mind the eloquent, generous, and magnanimous utterances of Chaplain McCabe. His famous lecture on, “ The Bright Side of Life in Libby Prison,” not only threw a mantle of charity over his enemies, but illumined the very misery and darkness of military imprisonment with the light of cheerfulness, wit, humour, and broth- erly humanity. And to the end of life the spirit and teaching of that lecture will relieve of sad and gloomy recollections and fill with brightness the memory of every old soldier that was ever a prisoner in ‘‘ Libby.” No man, soldier or civilian, while serving the high interests of his country as a patriot, ever did the South a more generous, honourable Christian service than did the Chaplain in showing the bright side of Libby Prison. Few influences have been more potent in the reconciliation of the Blue and the Gray than the elo- quence of Chaplain McCabe and the gallant General John B. Gordon. From the platform of every city in our land the generous words of those great orators bound up the wounds, sweetened the bitter cup of sec- tional enmities, and lighted up with mutual respect, go THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE honour, and fraternal good-will the dark, sad memories of a fratricidal war. The notorious prison at Richmond took its name from the old sign that decorated one corner of the building: “Libby and Sons, Ship Chandlers and Grocers.” Captain Libby succeeded the original ten- ant and builder, John Enders, a tobacco dealer. At the breaking out of the war it was again used as a tobacco warehouse for the manufacture and storage of tobacco, by Liggon Co. It was a large three-story brick structure, 140 feet long and 105 feet wide, located at the southwest corner of Twenty-fifth and Main Streets. In 1861 it was converted into a mili- tary prison. It was undoubtedly the most commodi- ous and comfortable building in the city that could have been used for the purpose. If the cruel exigen- cies of war often overcrowded it, and if the sanitary conditions were more productive of disease than con- ducive to health, no such horrors of inhuman admin- istration were ever charged against General J. H. Winder, the Military Governor of Richmond, or against Major T. P. Turner, the Commander of the Prison, as formed the terrible indictment that brought to the gallows the inhuman Wirtz, of Andersonville. Indeed, Chaplain McCabe often generously acknowl- edged that everything was done for the comfort of the prisoners at Libby that seemed possible to the limited resources of the Confederate Administration. Libby was principally an officers’ prison, the privates were sent to Belle Isle and Castle Thunder. It has been estimated that during the war from 40,000 to 50,000 LIBBY PRISON gt prisoners passed through this prison; there were often from 1,000 to 1,200 Union officers imprisoned therein at a time. This building was taken down in 1888, removed to Chicago and rebuilt there as a Libby Prison Museum, which attracted many visitors during the World’s Columbian Exposition. XII LIGHTS AND SHADOWS—LETTERS FROM LIBBY PRISON NCIDENTS which illustrated the peculiar and l pathetic character of the great Civil War are brought out in the Chaplain’s first letter dated from Libby Prison. It has been noted that the descend- ants of Owen McCabe went into Ohio, while those of Owen’s brother migrated to Virginia. Of the Vir- ginian McCabes was the Rev. John Collins McCabe, D.D., an eminent minister of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Richmond when Chaplain McCabe was a prisoner in Libby. This high-minded gentleman and godly minister of Christ visited the Chaplain in prison, and did all that was in his power to ameliorate his mis- fortune. He doubtless had considerable influence with the Confederate authorities on the Chaplain’s behalf, particularly when he was stricken with the illness that threatened his life. The Chaplain never ceased to be grateful to this man for his kind attentions to him in Richmond, and he was proud to know and to boast that so noble a specimen of manhood belonged to his kindred and adorned the name of McCabe. Another incident is not less touching. It chanced that the Quartermaster of the Post at Richmond, a Captain Warner, of the Confederate Army, had come from Ohio and had gone to school to the Chaplain’s 92 LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 93 mother. What more was necessary than the thought that Chaplain McCabe was the son of his affectionately remembered school teacher, Sarah Robinson, to stir that gentlemanly and soldierly heart with commisera- tion for the prisoner and to inspire him with the pur- pose to do all that was possible to minister to his com- fort! How such incidents relieve in memory, as they did in experience, the darkness and miseries of those awful years of war! What the Chaplain might have experienced at the hands of this Quartermaster but for the influence of his mother’s memory may only be imagined if we credit the statement of Col. Louis Palma Di Cesnola that he, “an Ohio renegade, was a greater scoundrel than any of the Southern race.” Let it be hoped that even Di Cesnola wrote in haste and has repented in leisure this hot-worded estimate of the once boy-pupil of Chaplain McCabe’s mother. The Chaplain’s first letter dated from Libby Prison is both interesting and characteristic: “July 17th, 1863. “ Libby Prison, Richmond, Va. “ My DEAREST WIFE: “T wish I could write you a good long letter. I must be brief and to the point. My health is first-rate; my spirits above par. Gen. Neal Dow was brought in lately, author of the Maine Liquor Law. He gave us a speech Monday. Doctor John Collins McCabe, of this city, an eminent minister of the Episcopal Church, has called twice upon me. He is a perfect gentleman. Looks like Uncle Dow. Has furnished some impor- 94 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE tant information with regard to my ancestry. Capt. Warner, the Quartermaster of the Post here, used to go to school to my mother. He is very kind to me. Be as happy as a bird, darling. Go where you please, buy what you want. Borrow all the money you need of the doctor, or of uncle, or of your father. Tell Rob * not to go into the army; his health is not good enough. Write me at once and direct it to me at Libby Prison, Richmond, via Fortress Monroe. I only want to know whether you are well. Be short. I am studying hard. Libby Prison is large and airy, the weather cool and delightful. Read my old letters in place of long ones. 2nd Epistle of John, 12th verse: ‘ Mizpah,’ Gen. 31-49.” The Chaplain was a living benediction to the pris- oners in Libby, not only on account of his happy, cheerful disposition, his perennial good humour and his inspiring helpfulness, but also because he brought into the prison the spiritual power and religious fervour that had kept the camp in a state of perpetual revival. And what a blessing to that prison life was the “ Sing- ing Chaplain,’ who, with the music of his glorious voice, dispelled the gloom of many’a sad, desponding soul! The first notes of that magnetic voice created a sensation in Libby. It was evening, the prisoners were more than usually depressed and ‘early sought their hard beds on the floor, to find surcease of sorrow in pleasant dreams. Soon they heard a song that roused them to attention; they sat up and listened to sweet, * His brother Robert R. McCabe. LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 95 old, familiar melodies of home and loved ones, as they were sung by a quartette over in one corner of the prison. In a moment the men were all on their feet and gathering about the singers. When.a pause came in the singing they asked the leader, “ Who are you?” “McCabe, of the 122d Ohio.” And the quartette which he had organised, struck up another sweet, fa- miliar song. From that night one of the most inevi- table expressions heard in old Libby in a time of depression and gloom was: “Chaplain, sing us a song.” Chaplain L. N. Beaudry, a fellow prisoner with the “ Singing Chaplain,” and his intimate friend, relates an experience similar to the above: “The gloorn of night was settling upon our gloomy . spirits. An indescribable dread made the moments silent and oppressive. We were like men at the portal of the tomb, and inscribed on that portal these words: ‘Who enters here leaves all hope behind him forever.’ But this dread was on us but a few minutes. Sud- denly we heard nearly over our heads several voices singing lustily: “* Praise God from whom all blessings flow; Praise Him all creatures here below; Praise Him above, ye heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.’ “The heavy load that oppressed us all seemed as by magic to be lifted. The words of the sacred dox- ology came to us with a new meaning, and the Divine One seemed to say: ‘Be of good cheer, it is I, be not afraid.’ I was instantly filled with inexpressible joy. 96 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE I remarked to Turner,* who stood not far off: ‘ What isthis? Are they holding a religious meeting in there? And do you permit the like?’ With a sneering voice and manner he replied: ‘Oh, yes; you Yankees seem disposed to sing anywhere, and we have jto endure it even here.’ “‘ What he said to wound me only comforted me. I was not many days among ‘the spirits in prison’ be- fore I learned whose voice it was, on that memorable ‘Saturday night, that led and sustained the grand in- spiring doxology. There is a certain something in Chaplain McCabe’s voice, a deep and tender pathos, which once heard is forever remembered. Until he was taken down with the fever, his voice could be heard almost night and day. At times not a few of the rebel guards and passers-by grouped themselves on Cary Street to hear us. McCabe’s voice was wonder- fully powerful and inspiring at such times as these. Many of us looked upon him as the ‘ canary’ in that desolate cage. Other good singers were there, but none of them attracted the same attention.” The Chaplain’s religious work, his studies and his perfect contentment with the prison régime make up the contents of his next letter. “Libby Prison, July 22d, 1863. * My Dearest WIFE: “T am anxious to hear from you. Write often; direct to me, Libby -Prison, Richmond, Va., via Fortress Monroe. I am having a pleasant time. My *The Commandant of the Prison. LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 97 health is fine. I am studying French and Butler’s Analogy. No moment hangs heavily. I see you and Johnnie often in my dreams. I love to think you are so far away from the alarms of war. Willie and I cook for twenty men; they compliment us every day. The surgeons and chaplains form a pleasant company. Be happy, Beccie. I preached to the prisoners last Sabbath; we have good meetings. One man (an offi- cer from Grant’s army) who had been an infidel for ten years, told me that after the meeting last Sabbath he went to his cot with the prayer on his lips: ‘ Show me the way, the truth, and the life.” He is now an earnest seeker of religion and is not far from the King- dom of God. There are others. The prison is kept clean as a new pin; food plain, and wholesome, first- rate bread. I do not know how soon they will get the cartel arranged. Send me half a sheet of paper with each letter. Be patient. Allis bright for time and in eternity. Take good care of my little boy. Love to all.” As yet the Chaplain had not heard from his wife since his capture. His only anxiety seemed to be with regard to her health and happiness, but his letters were full of good cheer and assurance. The results of his faithful evangelistic work among the prisoners show how Divine Providence may make the apparent mis- fortunes of men contribute to their highest spiritual welfare. What came of the impressions made on the convicted officer mentioned in the Chaplain’s last letter may be learned from the next: 98 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE “Libby Prison, Richmond, “July 27th, 1863. “My Dearest WIFE: “T feel a great desire to write to you every oppor- tunity, for I am constantly fearing lest unnecessary anxiety about me should impair your health. Let me say again, be cheerful and look on the bright side. Wait patiently. In heaven there will be no need of patience, because of the absence of sorrow, but the state of mind produced by patience will form part of the bliss of heaven. My health is good. There is not one very sick man among us. The Major of whom I spoke, once a great infidel, has been powerfully con- verted. Said last night that his coming to Libby Prison was the greatest event of his whole life. He lives near Cincinnati. If all goes well, you and I will call on him some day. . . . I am waiting longingly for the first glimpse of your handwriting. Rec’d a long call from Dr. McCabe to-day.” At last, after a long month’s imprisonment, the Chaplain with joy receives a letter from his wife, to which he replies in his usual cheerful and optimistic tone. In this letter he tells of the intellectual and spiritual work that occupies his time and engages his heart: “Libby Prison, Richmond, “ Aug, 4th, 1863. “ My Dearest WIFE: “Your dear letter of the 14th of July came to-day. Although old, never was a letter more warmly received. LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 99 Our situation here is unchanged. I see no immediate prospect of release. I am happy here in comparative solitude. I spend my time pleasantly. Can al- ready read the French and am acquiring its difficult pronunciation. I commit to memory and make a com- mentary upon a Psalm each day. A blessed work is progressing among the prisoners. We have speaking meetings of intense interest. Nothing can be more de- lightful. I never was happier in my life, never so con- fident, never so accustomed to a peace which the world cannot give. . . . I am treated with great kindness and respect by all. My health is perfect.” While the Chaplain was in Libby Prison his Con- ference, the Ohio, met, and one of his severest trials was in being deprived of the privilege of meeting with his brethren at Conference. “ Libby Prison, Aug. 11th, 1863. “ My Dearest WIFE: “T have little hope of being at home in time to go to Conference with you. This pleasure to which I have been looking forward all the year is denied me, but I have learned in whatever state I am therewith to be content. . . . I am well and would be in fine spirits if I could hear from you oftener. Be cheerful. The exchange of prisoners will be resumed some day and then, darling, I will come to you. Write freely tome. I have become acquainted with the gentleman who reads our letters. He is a fine man, and I have no objections to his seeing everything you write. My 100. ©THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE health is perfect. I am growing fleshy, for we get plenty to eat.” Here again does the Chaplain gratefully acknowl- edge the kindness and consideration with which our Union soldiers were treated in Libby Prison. In the following letters it will be seen how the Chaplain usually employed his time and what true pleasure he derived from his literary pursuits and his religious work among his fellow prisoners. “Libby Prison, Aug. 20, 1863. “ My DaRLING WIFE: “Tt is eight weeks to-day since we came to Rich- mond. The time has passed so swiftly! I have been usefully employed every moment. . . . I am well. Last evening I distributed a large number of books to the prisoners. J am nearly through my French; have procured a German grammar and will enter upon its study to-day. I see no prospect of any immediate exchange of officers. The only way is to be patient and trustful. By the grace of God I can do all things required of me. Believe me, I am happy. Our prison is large and airy and in the coolest part of the city. We suffer no inconvenience from the heat.” “Sabbath Day, Aug. 23d. “This is the Holy Sabbath. We had prayer meet- ing last night; it was very largely attended. Great good is being accomplished. We have a debating so- LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 101 ciety organised for the amusement and profit of the officers. We also have a paper called, ‘The Libby Chronicle,’ published every Friday. Its columns are filled by contributions from among ourselves. . . . I am sorry I cannot go to Conference with you. Iam well, perfectly.” “Libby Prison, Aug. 28, 1863. “Your letter of the 7th came to-day. How happy it made me! Thank God, you are all well and seem to be hopeful. That is my great care: I want you to be cheerful. I fear despondency for you more than anything else. I know your anxiety for my welfare, but I know also your fervent trust in God. This has been a busy week. Our prison is transformed into a college. The hitherto idle prisoners are students now. Classes are formed in various useful sciences. I have bought, through the kindness of the authorities, a large number of books, and all is changed. The men do not seem to feel their captivity as they did before. Only one has died of our number since we came here. He had contracted disease before—Major Morris, grand- son of the great Robt. Morris. I was permitted to read the service at his grave. Becca, I am happy, my health is first-rate; we have wholesome food and a good dessert after dinner of lively conversation and laughter. . . . Every prisoner can spend his time profitably if he so desires. The Major of whom I spoke * is writing me a history of his life. I should not be surprised if he would enter the ministry. He * Recently converted in the prison. \ 102 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE lectured for us Friday; held the large audience spell- bound for an hour and a half. Five weeks to-day since I came to Libby Prison. Get ‘Les Miserables’ and read it; you can get it at Xenia at the book store. Wonderful book! I have but one shirt, that nearly worn out. I have friends here, however, who will supply me all I need. It is so hard to stop writing. Hope the Adjutant will pardon me for transcribing my limits.” The last few sentences of the above letter are writ- ten on the back of the single page which was evidently the limit allowed by the rules of the prison, hence the Chaplain’s plea for indulgence, which was of course granted by the Adjutant. It is in the following letter, of August 30, that he mentions his translation from the French of one of Racine’s Tragedies. In this letter, written on the Sabbath day, he says: ‘I preached this morning to a large assembly. A Colonel from -New York City started for the better land, if we mistake not. I wish I had space to tell you about him. I have written my tailor to send you by express a full suit of clothes for me, which you will take care of till I come. No news in our little world. My college is prospering. Ask the Doctor if he has any boys to educate. You ask if I need anything. I answer, no! Don’t send me any clothes or eatables, I can get along without. Senda stamp with each letter and one-half sheet of paper. I am nearly through the French Testament and ready to read the German.” LIGHTS AND SHADOWS 103 “ Libby Prison, Sept. rst, 1863. “ DEAREST REBECCA: “Your letters of Aug. 18th and 22d have just come to hand. Iam sorry you are suffering so much from anxiety of mind. You must not feel so. As at other times, trust in God. There is not a calmer, happier man in Virginia than I all the time. God is with me. Souls are converted. If I had room I might tell much that would thrill your soul. God is in it. ‘Even so Father. . . . Don’t believe anything you read in the papers about ‘ fearful diseases in Richmond.’ From all I learn the city was never more healthful. As for me, I am able to surprise Mary when I sit down at the table once more and partake of viands served up in the Peter’s style. It always seemed to me you girls had a peculiar way of making good things to eat. So at Mary’s, so at mother’s, and, begging pardon for the vanity, so in my own house. . . . Some rumours of exchange; but I don’t let them bother me. Let us be content. See if you can decipher this, Sept. 1st.: De hoc tempore, Deo volente per annos decem. That is the expression of a vow which will take for its fulfil- ment ten years of time if my life is spared. We have classes in French, Spanish, Latin, Greek, Rhetoric, English Grammar, Arithmetic, Algebra, Geometry, Natural Philosophy, etc.” The Chaplain seemed to grow in grace while a pris- oner. His spiritual ardour never cooled; his experience became deeper and richer, and his zeal in winning his fellow prisoners to Christ increased. The joy of sal- vation filled his soul and found expression in his letters. 104 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE “Libby Prison, Sept. 6th, 1863. “My DEAREST WIFE: “T have just returned from listening to an excellent sermon by Brother Beaudry, my French teacher. His theme was ‘The Judgment.’ The congregation was large and attentive. I could not help thinking of you and home all the time. This beautiful weather! These bright September days! I go to my grated window often and look out over the green fields and then I sigh for my liberty. Then I turn to the world within me, which was once so dark, but now illuminated by a sun which shall never go down, and then I am content. Hallelujah, blessed be our Rock and let the God of our salvation be exalted! The Sabbath is a blessed day even in prison. Upon that day more especially do I give myself unto prayer and to the word of God. This is my eleventh Sabbath in Libby Prison. Some rumours of a speedy exchange. It is the great topic of conversation. From my manner no one would guess how I long to see my family. I seem so cheer- ful, so full of life, they have even accused me of indif- ference as to whether we get out soon or not. The events of the past four months have been a blessing to me. Henceforth my trust in God will be firm and unshaken. Oh, I have proved my Father. I know Him now. I want no higher bliss than to do His holy will, or, what is still more difficult, to suffer it. I am well. My health is wonderfully preserved. My con- stant intercession has doubtless much to do with it. Be cheerful, Betty. Jé will all be well.” XII LETTERS—THE FEVER—RELEASE— HOMEWARD BOUND Pr | “HERE can be no doubt that the Chaplain with- held from the picture of his captivity many a shadow for the sake of his wife, who was harassed with doubts and fears and was disposed very naturally to look only on the dark side of her hus- band’s condition. If the cheerful and magnanimous Chaplain found the bright side of life in Libby Prison there was, nevertheless, another side which he was too discreet or too generous to describe. In his next letter, while reassuring his wife as to the conditions at Richmond and relieving her of the fear which had been created by the newspaper reports of alarming epi- demics in Libby Prison, he indicates that his own health is not as good as it had been, and it proved that the very symptoms which he describes to his wife were the premonitions of the severe illness which soon fol- lowed, and which nearly cost him his life. “ rath Sabbath in Libby Prison, “ Sept. 14th, 1863. “ DEAREST REBECCA: “ Your letter of the 26th of Aug. was received day before yesterday. I also had a good long letter from 105 106 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE father. It seems he has been to Washington on my behalf. Of course, he could accomplish nothing. Mary will have a delightful house in Chicago. Father wants us to visit him soon. I am not in a condition to make any promises just now. . . . Iam just getting well of one of my severe headaches. I caught cold from going without a shirt while my only one should be washed. I have sent to a friend of mine in Colum- bus to send me a good supply of clothes. They will be here soon. The authorities here have assured us re- cently that they would be delivered to us. Col. Powell is now in our part of the building. He is in our mess. His wound is almost well. He bathes my head with the tenderness of a woman. I am now propped up in his bunk. I shall be well soon, to-morrow. Be patient. I have told you all the truth. Check your imagination. I will see you again. There are no epidemics in Richmond. There is not a seriously ill man among us that I know of. Do not you send me any clothing. I only want it of the plainest material. Keep whatever you may have for me till I get home.” In this letter the Chaplain mentions Col. Powell, the man to whose nursing he ever after attributed his re- covery from the fever that threatened his life. The next letter was not as reassuring as the Chaplain may have hoped it would be. Indeed, it lacks much of the usual cheerfulness and indicates a letting down of the physical forces which soon will be prostrated with the fever. LETTERS 107 “Libby Prison, Sept. 2oth, “ Sabbath Day, 1863. “My Darine WIFE: “ Your two letters of the 5th and the 8th were rec’d to-day. It gives me so much happiness to know that you keep well. My cold turned into a fever, which weakened me very much. I am entirely free from fever now, however, and expect soon to regain my wonted health. . . . No prospects as yet that I can see of anexchange. Still must we wait, and be cheer- ful. And, thank God, the outlook is as bright as it is. The purest joy my heart ever can know on earth will be to meet my family once more. How long! How cruel the separation! How have I laid my heart, my soul, upon the altar and have stood like the anvil to the stroke! Duty with me has been the all of life... . Feel no anxiety for me. All will be well!” The following letter was the last he was able to write with his own hand before he was confined to his bed with the fever. While this letter lacks the abound- ing cheerfulness which had filled his correspondence since his capture, it expresses the hope that he will soon be able to throw off his indisposition and be himself again. “Libby Prison, Sept. 25th, 1863. “ My Dearest WIFE: “Just rec’d five letters all at once. Two from you, one from Mary, one from Col. Ball of Zanesville. Yours were dated Sept. 11th and 15th. How like a 108 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE broad gleam of sunlight are your letters to me! . . . Col. Granger says he wrote to you from Harper’s Ferry after the retreat. Did you ever get the letter? Brother Scanlin, doubtless, gave you more news than I can about the exchange business. . . . I am getting better in health, hope to be entirely well soon. I have been threatened with my old enemy, the ague, but I feel confident I shall escape it now. How I was dis- appointed at not getting to Conference. I had been looking forward to it all the year, but perhaps we can go together at another time and more prosperous. I think of you so much during the day. This short let- ter seems but a mockery, but I shall see you some day. God bless and keep you.” The cold which the Chaplain had contracted when his only shirt was in the wash, and the aguish or malarial feeling of which he was conscious when he wrote his last letter, proved to be the incipient stages of the fever which shortly prostrated him. The next communication to his wife was dictated to Col. Powell, the Chaplain’s devoted friend, who nursed him through his illness, “Libby Prison Hospital, “Oct. 3d, 1863. “ Richmond, Va. “My Dartine WIFE: “T cannot write myself to-day, as I am covered with sweat from head to foot. The least exposure would make me take cold. Col. Powell, however, will write LETTERS 109 for me. I am still very weak, but my fever is almost entirely departed. The doctors all say that I am doing finely, and that all I need is a little patience and care to come through safely. I feel so sorry for you, but I don’t know how I can help you any. There is an effort being made to have me exchanged. I hope it may be successful. Whatever you do, don’t try to come here, nor let any other member of the family try to do so. No one could do me any good. I have every attention paid me that is necessary to my com- fort. TI love to think that all my family are far away in peace and safety. I think myself that I am getting better, and hope that it will not be long until I am able to be up and about all the time. Put your trust in the Lord, He is our sure support. Don’t let your anxiety injure your health. Take care of Johnny. Write father as comforting a letter as you can. This is all I want to say now.” Colonel Powell kindly added: “DEAR MADAM: “TI wrote home yesterday and requested my wife to inform your father of your husband’s condition.” On the death of General W. H. Powell the Chaplain paid him a fine eulogy, in which he refers to his own illness in Libby Prison, to the General’s nursing, and to other incidents of prison life which il- lustrate the characters of these patriotic comrades. The Chaplain said of General Powell: “He was a i190. THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE fellow prisoner with me in Libby Prison in 1863. In the battle of Wythesville, Virginia, he was terribly wounded, and it was supposed that his days were num- bered, but he recovered sufficiently to be brought to Libby Prison, and there in his suffering condition a charge of murder was brought against him. One day I saw the sergeant of the guard take him out, and I learned afterward that they put him into the dungeon to await his trial upon the charge above mentioned. He was kept there thirty-seven days and the case was never brought to trial, because no proof whatever was forth- coming. There was no furniture whatever in his cell, except a little wooden bench, and it was dark and dis- mal enough. The rats, which abounded in the prison, were his only companions. We had a fashion in our room in Libby Prison of singing an evening hymn. One day I received a note from General Powell, brought to me secretly by a coloured man, which read as follows: ‘Dear Chaplain: Sing a little louder. I can just hear you.—William H. Powell.’ Always after that until his release from the dungeon we pitched our tunes upon'a little higher key, so that our lonely and suffering comrade far below could hear the hymns he loved so well. I had with me a little copy of the New Testament and Psalms. I wrote on the margin of the Forty-second Psalm: ‘ Hope thou in God, all will be well.’ The General carried that little book with him (the Chaplain gave it to him) for many years | afterwards, and many a time in addressing Sabbath Schools and other religious assemblies he took it out, held it aloft, and told the story. LETTERS as “ Just before he came out of the dungeon I was sent to the hospital, very ill with typhoid fever. General Powell was sent there, too, as he was still suffering greatly from his wound. His sons have in their pos- session a journal of those days, in which he tells what he did for me. He found me covered with vermin from head to foot and supposed to be dying with the fever. He sat down by my side and took out his little pocket scissors, which he carried with him, and cut my long hair, which hung down to my shoulders. Then he cut my long beard. He then secured from the phy- sician of the prison an insect exterminator and soon relieved me from the suffering I was enduring on this account. He gave me a bath with his own hands, then went down to the prison kitchen and tried his hand at cooking for me, and brought me some nourishing food. In an old scrap book, which I have recently come across, there is pasted a letter bearing date Oct. 3d, 1863, Richmond, Virginia, and addressed to my wife. He took it down from my lips sentence by sentence, and while the tone of it is hopeful of recovery, I thought myself that it was the last letter my wife would ever receive from me. I wish to record the fact, which I have often mentioned in public, that I owe my life to the tender ministry of this great and good man. And he was a great man. When his wound made it necessary for him to retire from the service and he sent his resignation to the Secretary of War, General Sheridan, in approving it, said: ‘The army could better spare me.’ General Powell always reminded me of that little strain in Bayard Taylor’s 112 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE poem about singing Anmie Laurie at the siege of Sebastopol : ««¢ The bravest are the tenderest, The loving are the daring.’ General Powell was a Christian man, an honoured member of the Presbyterian Church. He died calmly and even triumphantly, bidding his family and his com- rades who gathered about him to meet him in the heavenly world.” For this distinguished soldier and truly Christian gentleman the Chaplain ever entertained the most tender affection and the highest veneration; and a life-long friendship bound together in mutual love and esteem those brave and patriotic hearts. Their correspondence was always full of the most brotherly expressions, and their meetings in after years were occasions of great satisfaction and pleasure. On his release from prison, General Powell, then Colonel Second Volunteer Cavalry, wrote to Mrs. McCabe: “Iam again a ‘ free man,’ left Libby Prison last Friday morning, reached this point [Washington] Sunday evening. And to my great surprise and inex- pressible pleasure met your dear husband and my dear friend this morning. Allow me to say that on meet- ing him I could not, though in the presence of a large number of strangers, refrain from clasping him in my arms. Iam very much pleased to find him enjoying such fine health.” LETTERS 113 As late as 1903, the General supposed that he still had the Testament which the Chaplain had sent him when he was confined in the dungeon of Libby Prison, but he wrote to his dear old comrade, in response to an inquiry concerning it: ‘I have searched in vain for the precious little Testament you sent to me when I was in the Libby Prison dungeon. It was evidently stolen from my library table.” In a letter urging the Chaplain to attend an army reunion, the General is reminded of the flight of time, the brevity of life, and the near approach of the last reunion of the old comrades who saved the Union, and he recalls or unconsciously reproduces the beauti- ful thought that was expressed in the dying words of “ Stonewall” Jackson. He wrote: “ The time of our final separation is nigh at hand. Come, dear brother, and let us ‘reune’ once more under the old flag be- fore we cross over the River to rest under the shade of the trees on the eternal Shores.” The General’s deep affection for Chaplain McCabe was perhaps most tenderly expressed in the closing words of a letter written in 1899: “ Dear Friend McCabe: Should you be living when my days are numbered it is my wish that you shall close up my record on earth in a brief ad- dress, at my home or grave. My family lot is in Graceland Cemetery, Chicago. (Simply to Thy Cross I cling. ) “Your Sincere Friend and Comrade, “Wn. H. Powe.t.” 114. THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE It is in justice to the humanity of their military enemies, no less than to the soldierly honour of the loyal General and Chaplain, that we add to the record of that Libby Prison experience this statement of Gen- eral Powell: “ During the early part of October, 1863, a general exchange of Chaplains, held as prisoners of war, was agreed upon by the authorities at Washington and Richmond, Va., whereby all Chaplains held as pris- oners of both armies were exchanged. At which time about 100 Chaplains of the Union Army in Libby were sent forward to City Point for exchange. Chaplain McCabe’s condition was such that he could not go. The day following I was especially detailed * by the rebel authorities (through the influence of the Chap- lain’s uncle) to nurse the Chaplain, who was then in the hospital building near the Rockets, in the eastern portion of the city. . . . In three weeks’ time he was able to safely undertake the journey to Wash- ington, and in due time to his home. . . . On his departure, I was sent back to Libby Prison.” While the other Chaplains were happily on their way home from their long imprisonment, Chaplain McCabe was lying at the very point of death in the hospital, too ill to realise his disappointment in not being able to enjoy the liberty for which he had been so bravely and patiently looking for four anxious months. In reply to his father’s inquiry about him, this official communi- cation was received : * Italics are our own. LETTERS 115 “ Office Commissioner for Exchange, “Fortress Monroe, Va., “ Oct. 12, 1863. “R. McCasz, Esq., “Sherman House, Chicago. “Si: “Your letter of the 2d inst. is just received and in reply I will state that all Chaplains are released. Your son would have been sent North were it not that he is suffering from typhoid fever, and too ill at present to be removed. I am in hopes he may be well enough to come in the next Flag of Truce, which will be here in a few days. “Very Respectfully, “Yr. ob’dt serv’t, “S. A. MEREDITH, “ Brig. Gen’l. and Com. for Exch.” In a few days the Chaplain was able to leave the hospital, and in the next Flag of Truce reached Wash- ington, whence he sent to his wife the telegram: “T am coming home, but slowly. Health im- proving.” This telegram was sent in care of William I. Fee, of Xenia, Ohio, who immediately forwarded it to Mrs. McCabe, with the following letter: 116 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE “ Xenia, O., Oct. 20, 1863. “Mrs. R. McCabe. “ DEAR SISTER: “Enclosed I send you a dispatch, which I received this morning. It affords me unspeakable pleasure to convey such pleasing intelligence to you. I hope soon to have the pleasure of seeing your husband and to have the privilege of congratulating you both on your reunion. I shall look for him soon. Do not feel uneasy about him. It may require some days for him to get here. I shall expect to entertain him until he can get out to Jamestown. You had better come to our house and remain until he comes. You would see him sooner. Mrs, Fee joins me in this request. Do come. We have a great Union celebration here to- night, etc.” Of his journey home the Chaplain speaks in his great lecture on “The Bright Side of Life in Libby Prison.” No tongue or pen can give a more touching and eloquent recital of the incidents immediately following his release than is to be found in that lecture. One of the first missions the Chaplain felt called upon to perform after his return home, was that of securing the release from Libby Prison of Dr. W. M. Houston, the surgeon of the 122d Ohio Volunteer In- fantry, and his companion at Winchester, where they were captured while caring for the sick and wounded soldiers. He went to Johnson’s Island with the fol- lowing letter: . LETTERS 117 “The State of Ohio, “ Executive Department, “ Columbus, Nov. 12, 1863. “ Maj. Pierson, “ Johnson’s Island. “ DEAR SIR: “This is to introduce to you the Rev'd. C. C. McCabe, who visits your Post with a view to negotiat- ing with some rebel prisoner for the exchange of Dr. Houston, Surgeon of the 122d O. V. I., now in Libby Prison. Please give the Parson every facility in your power to accomplish this mission. “Yours Resp’y, “Davip Top, Gov.” XIV LECTURE—“ THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE IN LIBBY PRISON ” “The Bright Side of Life in Libby Prison” was originally written out in full and was loaned to a friend only to be lost or mysteriously de- stroyed. The Chaplain never rewrote it and was never after quite satisfied with his extemporaneous or mem- oriter delivery of it. Perhaps no lecture as popular and familiar as this was ever so difficult to report. The Chaplain would never consent to have a reporter ‘shorthand the lecture. But how could any stenog- rapher catch the spirit of the Chaplain’s magnetic oratory? The voice of McCabe, his gesture, expres- sion, and glorious eye were essential, component parts of his eloquence. As with Bishop Simpson, John B. Gough, George Whitefield, Savonarola, St. Bernard, and Peter the Hermit, the orator’s personality gave power to his ideas and the charm of eloquence to his words, The Chaplain’s lecture cannot, when read in cold type, produce the impression upon the mind of one who never heard him deliver it that its fame might lead one to anticipate. But those who were ever fortunate enough to have heard it from the Chaplain’s own burn- ing lips will have the memory of the sensations then 118 Crm McCABE’S famous lecture on LECTURE 119 produced recalled as they read it again from these pages. Unknown to the Chaplain a shorthand re- porter once caught it as best he could, and as here reproduced: THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE IN LIBBY PRISON THE first time I delivered this lecture was before a company of Sunday-school children in Philadelphia, just after the war. The pastor of the First Presbyte- rian Church there asked me to come and speak to the children of his Sunday-school about my experiences in Libby Prison. Because I was going to speak to chil- dren I did not wish to relate to them the horrors of prison life, so I prepared a little address and called it “ The Bright Side of Life in Libby Prison,” in which I told them of the stories we told and the jokes we got off, and I do not doubt that the children went away that day thinking that Libby Prison was a pretty good place to be in. I afterwards loaned the manuscript, which I then used, to Mr. George H. Stuart, and it was some- how lost, so that I never got it again. But I am al- ways meeting comrades who remind me of things I had forgotten, and thus I am always gaining new matter out of which to make my lecture; and so, though it bears the same title, it is not the same lecture. I have not laid it aside, because it has been so useful in help- ing me in the great causes in which I have been en- gaged. Many a time when the pastor of a church would have announced that I would speak on church extension or the missionary cause when we needed money I have said to him, “ Announce that I will lec- 120 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE ture on ‘ The Bright Side of Life in Libby Prison.’ ” And then how the people would turn out! I talked to them of Libby Prison and then of church extension. I let them in free and charged them for going out. Many and many a time they paid a thousand dollars to go out, and I have found out from careful investiga- tion that fully one hundred and fifty thousand dollars have gone into churches and parsonages and into the pockets of poor preachers in this way during these forty years and more. That is one good reason why I shall not give it up yet. There is another reason why I do not get tired of it. As I speak, I see the faces of my old comrades, the faces of the noblest men I ever 1 knew, the men of the 122d Ohio Volunteer Infantry. It was a regiment of boys whose average age was Ltwenty-five—nine hundred and seventy-five of them when they marched out of Zanesville in September, 1862, with new and beautiful flags flying in the breeze, all unsoiled and unstained, marching to the front to help save their country. They were with Grant at Petersburg; they followed to Philadelphia; they were under Grant at Richmond. Five hundred and eighty- two of them were shot down and many wounded, bringing down the remainder to twenty-two of the , original number. They were with Grant at Appomat- tox when Lee surrendered. It was a glorious regi- ment. I have written to Emperors about that regi- ment. I once wrote to the German Emperor about it, and this is the reason why I did it. When he was a very young man he made a speech in which he spoke approvingly of duels. He said they made men brave. LECTURE 15% I wrote and told him of the 122d Ohio. Not one of those boys ever fought a duel. The American soldier needs nothing brutal to make | him brave. A college professor made a speech not long ago defending the modern game of football. He said it was a good thing to play football that way because it accustoms men to danger. I wanted to write him about my regiment. We played football when I was a boy, but it was the old honest game in which we would kick the ball high in the air and let it reach the goal. We do not need anything brutal to develop the courage of the Ameri- can soldier when the country is in danger. F Cal the boys from the farm, the shop, the office; unfurl the old flag above their heads and let the band strike up the music, and in six months you have a conquering regiment of the soldiers of this Republic.) That is the kind of regiment we had in the 122d Ohio. It is surprising how much the modern editor knows about conducting a campaign, especially when he is about a thousand miles from the seat of operations. Perch him on a three-legged stool in his sanctum, with his pen in his hand, and he can tell the greatest gen- eral just how to do it. In those days the Southern editors were saying to Lee: ‘‘ March into the North. Lead the army clear to Boston; ” and they expected to call the roll on Bunker Hill. The Southern heart was fired. ; Our division was under General Robert Milroy. Robert Milroy! Why, he would attack a force ten times his own number without hesitating a moment! Milroy was at Winchester. They telegraphed him 122 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE from Washington to fall back to Harper’s Ferry. He had six thousand men and six pieces of artillery. Lee had seventy-five thousand men; and yet with that hand- ful of troops Milroy proposed to fight Lee with his grand army. I was down at headquarters one night. We had a good quartette and while we were singing for Milroy, he put his head out of a window and saw a scout who was rapidly approaching. He rode up and said: “General, the enemy is coming, and in my opinion it would be a good thing for us to be getting out of this.’ “In my opinion!” just think of it! In England a scout would not dare to say that. But in our army scouts had opinions, and they were not backward in expressing them; and I must confess that we all agreed with the scout that we had better get out of there when Lee was coming; but Milroy had no no- tion of going. Lee, however, scorned to attack our little force. He did not want to lose his men fighting with Milroy. He was on his way to fight the army of the Potomac. He had tested the qualities of that army so often, that there must have come a doubt in his mind whether he could meet them upon anything like equal terms. Milroy had one gun which was his espe- cial pride. It would send a three hundred pound shot “for five miles. It was called the “ baby-waker,” and I suppose it must have waked all the babies for miles around. He was a Presbyterian, and when I saw him Sighting that gun I thought to myself, “Suppose I should ask him now ‘ What is the chief end of man?’ ” I know what the answer would have been. “ Just now it is firing this gun.” And he blazed away at the rebels LECTURE 133 with all his might. They went further and fur- ther to the right to escape his fire. I saw Milroy go along the lines making little speeches to the boys and these were his very words, “Now, boys, we're in for it; keep cool! keep cool!” It is not always possible to keep cool. Your hair will lift a little, if you have any, on such an occasion as that. “ Fire low and fire often.” Our boys did it and they fired well. The enemy retired and we held Winchester another day. We saw miles and miles of Lee’s men pass by the next day. On the third day, Milroy sum- moned a council of war. Every way of escape was closed but one, and, as an Irishman would s say, that was closed, too! but it was closed four miles out of town. We marched silently along; not a soldier spoke a loud word, not a buckle rattled against a canteen. The camp-fires of the enemy were blazing everywhere. I thought them all asleep, and I wished them sound sleep and pleasant dreams. But they were not asleep. They were waiting for us, and when we got four miles out of town they captured us en masse. Our commis- sary had loaned me a tent to hold my meetings in, for I had three hundred and sixty-two members of Chris- tian churches in my church, and we had meetings every night. There was an everlasting protracted meeting in our regiment. While we_were retreating the com- missary asked me what I did with his tent. “I folded it_up,” said I, and was about telling him what I had done with his tent, when the enemy’s guns went off on our right and he ran one way and I ran the other. [never met him again until two years afterwards away 124 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE out in Iowa, when, running up to him and all out o of breath, I told him what I had done with his tent. “So it took me two years and seven hundred miles to get it said. That was the hardest work I ever had to get a thing s: said, “but T did it at - last, and I am thankful for that. “Ee and I were thrown into confusion, but our regiment was not. They simply cut their way through the enemy’s lines. The doctor and I held a council of war behind a tree; it was on the other side of the tree. “ Chaplain,” said he, “ I want you to stay with me and help with the wounded soldiers.” So we remained be- hind. A rebel provost-marshal came up and we were taken into the presence of General J. B. Gordon—the same General Gordon who rose in the Senate of the United States when Debs was threatening to overthrow the country, and 7 to be the commander of the Veteran Cofifederate League, and I can lead a bigger army to the Potomac in defence of the flag than Lee ever led to destroy it, and if necessary I will do itY And the beautiful thing about it was that every South- ern senator said {Amen % to it, and we realised for the first time singe THE Gea that we were one nation. And I tell you it was no idle threat. If this country ever goes to war again, the Blue and the Gray will fight side by side for the Stars and Stripes. We were taken into the presence of General Gordon, and when he found what we were doing, he said, “ Let them have fifty soldiers and all the ambulances they want to help get their wounded off the field.” When we had fin- ished our work, we went to see General Early, who had by this time assumed command. They made me LECTURE 125 Sareauns of the party, and I addressed him thus, “General Early, we are a company of surgeons and chaplains who have stayed behind to look after the wounded; we have finished our work and would like very much to be sent through to our regiment.” He smiled and turning to me said, “ You are a preacher, are you?” J answered that I was. ‘“ Well,” said he, “you preachers have done more to bring on this war than anybody and I’m going to send you to Richmond.” “To Richmond,” said I; “ that is one hundred and fifty miles away, and it is only thirty to Harper’s Ferry, and we would rather go to Harper’s Ferry.” “ They tell me you have been shouting, ‘ On to Rich- mond’ for a long time,”’ he said, “and to Richmond you shall go.” Up to this time all captured chaplains had been re- leased, but owing to some dispute that had arisen sur- geons and chaplains were now detained. We marched on to Richmond, and in due time stood in the presence of the grim old walls of Libby Prison and waited for somebody to come out and invite us in. We went in. We were invited to register. We registered. Then we were taken into another large room and searched. They took out of our pockets everything that we possessed. If it was not worth anything they gave it back, but if it was worth anything they kept it. I had eighty dollars in greenbacks on my person. Now you will wonder how it was that a preacher ever had eighty dollars in greenbacks in his pocket at one time. It did not belong to me; that was the reason; it be- longed to the boys. They had said, “ Take this and 126 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE ’ send it home to my wife or my mother,” and I was saving the very bills for the dear ones at home when this fellow was taking them away from me. “ Sir,” said I, “ that is not my money.” “I know it,” said he, “it is mine now.” And he took it away with him. After a while a receipt was given me which pledged that the Confederate government would pay the bearer in Confederate money at the rate of seven to one, and so I got five hundred and sixty dollars in Confederate money when I left the prison. At that time fifty Con- federate dollars would buy a pair of boots. It got so bad that a barrel of flour cost eight hundred dollars! I took my five hundred and sixty dollars, but I could not buy a breakfast with the whole of it in the North. My friend General di Cesnola, who has been for many years in charge of the Metropolitan Museum in New York, had seven hundred dollars in greenbacks on his person. “Now,” I thought, “they have struck a bonanza.” I remember wondering whether he would lie about it, and I fell to wondering whether if he did, under these trying circumstances, it would be laid up against him. “General,” said the guard, “have you no money?” “Look and see,” said he. They did look, but not a dollar did they find. Oh, how I bless him to this hour! For I borrowed some of it after- wards. If you had plenty of money in Libby Prison you could get along pretty well. One Confederate dol- lar would buy about six apples, or a quart of milk, and as one greenback would buy twenty-five or fifty Con- federate bills we could get along pretty well. That is the best example of fiat money I have ever known. LECTURE 127 I remember some years ago seeing a five-hundred-dol- lar Confederate note framed and hanging on the wall of a friend’s house, and on the back of it were written these pathetic lines by Major S. A. Jones, subsequent to the great surrender. I thought they were so beau- tiful that I committed them to memory. “Representing nothing on God’s earth now, And naught in the water below it; As a pledge of a nation that’s dead and gone, Keep it, dear Captain, and show it. Show it to those that will lend an ear To the tale this paper can tell, Of liberty born of the patriot’s dream, Of a storm-cradled nation that fell. “Too poor to possess the precious ore, And too much of a stranger to borrow, We issue to-day, our ‘ Promise to Pay,’ And hope to redeem on the morrow. Days rolled by, and weeks became years, But our coffers were empty still; Coin was so rare that the Treasurers quaked If a dollar should drop in the till. “But the faith that was in us was strong, indeed, And our poverty well we discerned, And these little checks represented the pay That our suffering veterans earned. We knew it had hardly a value in gold, Yet as gold the soldiers received it; It gazed in our eyes with a Promise to Pay, And each patriot soldier believed it. “But our boys thought little of price or pay, Or of bills that were over-due; We knew if it bought our bread to-day, ’Twas the best our country could do. 128 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE Keep it! it tells all our history over, From the birth of the dream to the last; Modest, and born of the Angel Hope, Like our hope of success it passed.” After we were all searched we were allowed to go upstairs. There a great surprise awaited us. I thought that I should see dead men lying around on ‘the floor and that all would be looking sad and broken- hearted. I saw nothing of the kind. As we new- comers began to come in, some one cried out, “ Fresh fish! fresh fish!” And one man whom I had never seen before came up to me and shook me roughly and warmly by the hand and said, ‘“ How are you, old fel- low? How have you been?” I said that I had been well. “Why didn’t you come sooner?” and then, turning to an imaginary porter, he said, “ Here, Jim, take the gentleman’s baggage and show him to room thirty-six, and see that he does not want for anything while he is with us.” Baggage, thought I! I had some baggage once, but it was all gone long ago. Every stitch of clothes I had but those on my back were gone, and I was afraid they would take those too, for that was a way they had. If your clothes were pretty good, they would trade with you; and so it came about that many of our boys in prison had on Confederate grey while the guard outside had on the Union blue. When I first saw them I took them for a company of Union soldiers; but by and by one of them spoke and then I knew that I was mistaken. He said something like this: ‘ Post number foah. All right.’”” When I heard LECTURE 129 that kind of talk, I knew which side of the line I was on. “Where shall we three sleep?” said I. There were three of us always together. Dr. Houston, Willie Morgan, and myself. Willie Morgan was a lad of fif- teen years of age. His mother consented to his going to the war, providing he would keep near the chap- lain and surgeon, and keep out of danger! Willie was our cook. Such a beefsteak as he would toss off the end of a stick on my tin plate, and potatoes cooked in the ashes, and coffee hot as blazes! When I go into the country hotels now, and the girls come in with their arms full of little dishes and set them around my plate, a little dab of this and a little dab of that, I almost wish for another war and that I could again be at the front with the Doctor and Willie. One year after this, at the age of sixteen, Willie was swinging a sabre in the cavalry service. The age-limit for mustering in was eighteen, but the claim of “ going on nineteen ” admitted many a boy who was several years short of that age. What boys we had in those days! and I think if we should ever have occasion again, we could call as brave boys to the rescue of the country as their fathers were before them. “‘ Where shall we three sleep to-night? ” I asked the officer of the day. “ Put your heads up against the door,” said he, “ and don’t obtrude to the right or left, for it’s occupied.” I laid me down, but not to sleep. After many hours, I was just dozing off when I was awakened by a shout, “ Right wheel!” I sat up in bed and looked on. Libby Prison was rolling over on its 130 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE left side. I asked an old residenter what it meant. He said, “ When your bones get sore on one side don’t roll over without giving the word of command, or things will get into confusion here.” After a while a voice called out, ‘ Left wheel!” and we all rolled back again.. I had often seen Hardee’s tactics in the perpendicular, never in the horinzontal before. The night passed away and with the morning came aman to count us. I said to Mr. Stark, who was standing by me, “ What makes him do that?” “ To see if we are all here, to be sure,” said he, “ Why,” said I, “can you get out of here?” “Have you ten dollars?” said he. “If you have you can bribe the guard, but after you get out you will have to look out for the bloodhounds.” It was too true, the guards were always ready to mount their horses and scour the country to recapture fugitives. They kept bloodhounds to hunt us. In the books of the Congressional Investigation Committee you can find pictures of these terrible dogs. I confess, I was afraid to meet them. One day an old coloured man came into the prison and I took him aside and said to him, “ Uncle, tell me how you coloured people get along with the bloodhounds.” He grinned and said, “When I comes in again I’ll fotch you a little cayenne peppah, and when you gits out a ways put a little pile of peppah in yo’ tracks. By and by, along comes dat dog, sniff! sniff! sniff! and when he sniffs dat cayenne peppah, for a few weeks he’s gwine to fergit all about fh war.” I knew some of the men who escaped nrough the famous tunnel. I do not know but that LECTURE 131 they would all have escaped if it had not been for an accident. A fat man tried to go through. Now, fat~ men love liberty as well as thin men, and a big fat” Dutchman tried to go through. When he got half- way through he stuck fast. He roared for help; he got help from the next man behind him. Imagine your- self in that next man’s place—Libby Prison behind you, and liberty before you, and nothing but a fat man in the way! At last they jammed him through, and so the fat man and the lean man escaped, and in all one hundred and nineteen prisoners escaped. in one night. Many of them were afterwards recaptured, with the help of the bloodhounds. Among these was Captain Moran, who afterwards lived to write a most interesting account of the escape through the tunnel, which was published by The Century Magazine some years ago. The boys dug the tunnel from the cellar of Libby Prison to an old shed some distance away across the street. They had no tools except an old broken case-knife. They would go down to the cellar two at a time at night and one would dig while the other would gather up the dirt in his hands and pile it up in another corner of the cellar. The hole was made from an old fireplace. When morning came they would cover up their dirt with some straw that was down there, and so clever were they at their work that the discovery was not made by the guards until a tunnel large enough for a man to crawl through had been completed. It was gruesome work. They dared not have a light, and the place was infested with rats, so much so that they had to fight the hungry creatures off 132 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE while they worked. After Libby Prison was trans- ported to Chicago, I went to see it one day, and there it was, true as life, every brick and timber in its old fa- miliar place. The guide took me down into the cellar and showed me the hole where the prisoners escaped. “Wonderful enterprise,” said I, “to transport a hole all the way from Richmond to Chicago.” One day ~Captain Warner, a commissary, entered Libby Prison and enquired for me. When I presented myself, he. said that he had gone to school to my mother in Mari- etta, Ohio, and that she was the best friend he ever had. He enquired if there was anything he could do for me. I told him I would like a bath-tub. I could have one. Three bath-tubs were provided, and then we had Cites ean ano two hundred men toatub. We took turns, and after a while all got clean once more. I asked him if he could get me a book, which he very kindly did. When the men saw me with a book they said, ‘Why cannot we have books, too?” To be sure they could. I made a long list of the books the men wanted, which list I still have. The men gave him the money and he procured as many of them as he could. We had a notable com- pany of men in Libby Prison. There were doctors, and teachers, and editors, and merchants, and lawyers. There were forty lawyers there. Now some of you will wonder how we could have a good time at all with forty lawyers in prison at once. I do not say that there ought not to be forty lawyers in jail at once, but, I do say, it is an unusual thing to get so many of them there at one time. One of these was Benjamin F, LECTURE 133 Blair, of New York. Then there were editors, in- cluding Junius Brown, of the New York Herald, and Richardson, of the Tribune. They got up a paper which was published weekly and called the “ Chronicle of Libby Prison,” and the guards used to listen eagerly to the reading of these journals. We established a university, called the University of Libby Prison. We had classes in German, French, Spanish, and Italian, and natives to teach all these languages. We bought books when we needed bread. I was cook for twenty men. What I had to do was to make soup out of a quart of wormy beans and put in enough water to go around for twenty men. We made it a rule that no one should have anything to eat at all until he could ask for it in French, and so we would sit at our table empty as Mother Hubbard’s cupboard and say Avez- vous this and Avez-vous that and Voulez-vous this and Voulez-vous that. There was more of the “ Voulez ” than of the “ Avez,” I assure you. One of the grand events of our captivity was the celebration of the Fourth of July. A committee was appointed on programme and one on decorations. ° Some of the men were appointed to speak and others — to sing. We had great rehearsals. The audience” was present at every rehearsal. Everything was go- ing well except that we had no flag. A bright idea dawned on some one. We found a man with a blue shirt and then we found one with a red_shirt; then came the tug of war. It was harder to find a white shirt. But finally one was found that had been-white, and the three were given into the hands of a tailor, 134 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE who in due time produced a tolerably good flag. I saw the committee examining his work and heard one man remark, “’Tis distance lends enchantment _to the view.” And another, “I can see the stitches four feet away.” But the flag would do. It was rolled up and put away in a crack in the wall, and on the morning of the Fourth of July Captain Reed climbed up and fastened it to the rafters. When you think of Libby Prison you must not think of it as one great room, but as a large warehouse divided into several large rooms, When we had our concerts and celebrations we would crowd into one room. On the morning of the Fourth of July we all crowded into Colonel Straight’s room, where our flag was suspended. The Colonel made us a speech. He said, “Gentlemen, if there is anything said here to- day that pleases you do not cheer, for if you do they will know what is going on. Keep still and cheer in your hearts.” I know it was bad advice, for we had never been still before and they would think it was a conspiracy. They would think we were going to break out and capture the guards and march north with the whole Confederacy. We often talked of it, but never did it. Sure enough, the guard soon came up to see what we were about. He stood looking at our flag. “ Who put that thing up there?” he said. Oh, how mad the tailor was when he called his flag a thing! “Take it down,’ commanded the guard. Did not General Dix say, “If any man tears down the American flag, shoot him on the spot?” We didn’t want to be shot, so we did not take down our LECTURE 135 flag; but the guard climbed up and took it down himself and disappeared with it downstairs and we never saw our beautiful banner any more; but we celebrated just the same. It must have required a good deal of patience for the rebels to hear us sing- ing, “ We’re Coming, Father Abraham, Six Hun- dred Thousand More,” and “ Rally Round the Flag, Boys.” They liked to hear us sing, and frequently crowds of people would gather outside the prison windows and occasionally some one would shout out, “Sing us that song about Old Abe!” They stood it all very well till we came to ‘“ Yankee Doodle,” but. that always made them mad. Bad news began to come into Libby Prison thick and fast. We heard one day that there had been a great battle at Gettysburg and that forty thousand men had been captured on their way to Richmond. On the morning of the sixth of July, old Ben, a negro who had permission to sell us papers, came in as usual. He looked around upon the prostrate host and then cried, ‘ Great news in de papers!”” If you have never seen a resurrection, you could not tell what hap- pened. We sprang to our feet and snatched the papers from his hands. Some one struck a light and held aloft a dim candle, and by its light we read these headlines, “ Lee is defeated! His pontoons are swept away! ‘The Potomac is over its banks! The whole North is up in arms, and sweeping down upon him!” We sang all our national airs from “ Yankee Doodle ” to “Old Hundred.” Every voice rang out with the words of the Doxology; it was sung on the key of 136 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE “©,” as I remember it. Some time before, I had cut out of The Ailantic Monthly Julia Ward Howe’s “ Battle Hymn of the Republic,” and committed it to memory; discovering that it would go well to the tune of “John Brown’s Body,” we learned to sing it in Libby Prison, and we made the welkin ring with its chorus of “ Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!” The rebel guard came up and compelled us to stop, but the song was out and it still echoes over the city. A few days after- wards, we got the sequel of our celebration. There was in the prison a coloured man whom they called General Jackson, a member of a Pittsburg regiment, that had been captured. They made him the janitor of the prison, and he came up every morning to smoke us with a pine-knot by way of fumigating the prison. Every morning he would shout, “ Here’s your good Union smoke, without money and without price!” On the morning of the eighth of July he came up and _ shouted, “ Here’s your good Union smoke all the way from Vicksburg!” ‘“ What do you know about Vicksburg?” asked a hundred voices. “Grant is in Vicksburg.” We went to the windows and looked out and saw the newsboys selling extras. The people in the street read them and looked gloomy and sad. Somebody brought us a copy, and the man who got it stood on a table and read aloud these words: ‘“‘ Ad- jutant-General Cooper: Compelled by circumstances, I surrendered the post of Vicksburg on the Fourth of July to Major-General U. S. Grant of the Federal Army.” And it was signed “ Pemberton.” When we heard this, we sang all our national songs over again. LECTURE 137 A guard put his head in at the door and shouted, “ You Yanks up there, you’ll be singing out of the other side of your mouths in a few days!” Ina few days Port Hudson fell, and then we sang them all over again. At the risk of being shot, I saw a man put his head out of the window and call out, “ We’re a-singing out of both sides now!” Vicksburg captured? Some/ one asked what day it was and what time of day. It occurred to us that it was the same day and the same time of day when that fellow was pulling down our ' little old shirt flag, General Grant was pulling down the Rebel flag at Vicksburg. Gentlemen, that was the finest coincidence of the war. One day seventy-three captains were sent for to come downstairs and two chaplains, of whom I was one. We were formed into a hollow square and the officer in charge addressed us thus, ‘“ Gentlemen, I have an unpleasant duty to perform. I am ordered to select two of you for execution; and as the fairest way to do this I have written your names on slips of paper and put them in this hat. One of the chap- lains will take out two names and the other captains can go back upstairs.” The other chaplain, Father Brown, as we called him, nearly eighty years of age, picked the names from the hat. They were Captains Sawyer and Flynn and they were put into the dun- geon and were to have been executed the next day, but owing to some disagreement among the authori- ties the execution was delayed. A letter to Mr. Lin- coln was written by the prisoners and I saw one of them, by the name of MacDonald, who had just been 138 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE exchanged, pry open the sole of his boot and hide the letter therein. As soon as he reached Washington he took it to Mr. Lincoln. It so happened that Captain Fitzhugh Lee and Captain Winder, a son of General Winder who had ordered this execution, had just been captured. Mr. Lincoln sent this message, “If you execute Sawyer and Flynn, I will execute Lee and Winder. A. Lincoln.” They never were executed. That was a way the President had, and I think it was a pretty good way. I never thought I should cry “Fresh fish!” to a man I had never seen before and had never been in- troduced to, but one day the cry of “ Fresh fish!” rang through the prison and we ran to see who had “ome. There was Brigadier-General Neal Dow, of Maine. He was that grand old dreamer who was the first_to conceive that it is possible to have one State .free from the curse of rum. . We made him make us a temperance speech and then Ghe rebels laughed) I had never seen them laugh before, and I remember I used to wonder whether their faces would crack if they smiled, they looked so solemn. But they laughed at our temperance meetings. They said, “ Why, you couldn’t get a pint of whiskey in Libby Prison to save your life. What’s the use of holding temperance meetings?’’ The newspaper reporters got hold of it, _and they | would come come and report his speeches and print’ them in the papers of Richmond. One day a an invitation came for him to make a tour of the South. He was the guest of the most distinguished citizens of Georgia. He was gone six weeks and came back to LECTURE 139 the prison merry as a lark. One day he told us what a fine time he had had. He said that the Con- federacy was nothing but a shell. That there was nothing left but old men and boys for them to recruit from. Just then the sergeant came in. I supposed he would stop talking at once, but he went right on as though nothing had happened and said with great em- phasis and a forcible gesture of his right fist, “ As I was remarking, gentlemen, intemperance is the great- est evil in the world!” We all looked as though we thought so too, and the sergeant went off downstairs saying, “That old crank is delivering another tem- perance lecture.” We got up a singing society and had a concert. ‘It was a grand success. Everybody was present. We had solos, duets, and trios, and a grand chorus. We had Irish songs, French songs, Hungarian songs, Scotch songs, German songs. Sometimes we would wind up our concerts by singing, “ There’s no Place like Home.” One day an Irishman was very much depressed and he sat dejectedly crooning to himself: “ Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, Make me a child again just for to-night,” when another Irishman heard him and exclaimed, “Vis, and a girrd child at that!” One night when we were giving a concert, the guard outside shouted, “ Lights out up there!” The lights went out, but the concerts went on. We had only one tallow-dip, which we fastened to the table by its own grease, and it was so dim that it only served to make the darkness visible. We were a noisy com- 140 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE pany and it was hard to sleep. I moved that hereafter at nine o’clock everybody should get quiet. I was voted down unanimously. By and by, another fel- low got up and said: “.With the privilege of this asso- ciation I have a conundrum to propound. Why is Libby Prison like a church?’ His answer was, “ Be- cause we have fasting and prayer.” Up sprang an- other fellow and said, ‘ Why is Libby Prison like a. literary institution?’ Nobody could guess. His an- swer was, “ Because it is a lyceum.” “ Put him out! Put him out!” they cried. We didn’t want anybody to know that, and here’s a fellow who blurts it right out in meeting. There was one man there who could never see a joke for five hours, and after that he would laugh. How many of us have laughed at John B. Gough’s story of the man who said to another man, “A fine day for the race, isn’t it?” “ What race?”” “The human race.” That was a fine joke, and he thought he would get it off on the next man he met. Meeting a friend soon after, he said, “ Fine day for the trot, isn’t it?” “ What trot?” “ Well, I thought I had a joke, but somehow it is gone from me.” So this man who could not see a joke for five hours kept saying to himself, ‘See “em! See ’em!” “You can’t see ’em, but you can feel ’em all the time.” And so we could. Vermin dropped down on us from the ceiling and crawled out on us from the walls. We were covered with vermin from head to foot. This was not one of the least of our troubles in Libby Prison. Men, the peers of any who listen to me to-night, intellectual, refined, sensitive, were forced to LECTURE I4I endure daily and hourly torture of this kind, and there was no release night or day. But if you could have seen that company, what would you have thought if you had heard the laugh that greeted this joke! We had seven Irishmen with us who were the delight of my heart. Such wit as they had! If you were dying of starvation and an Irishman would get off a joke, such as I have heard them relate in Libby Prison, it would make you laugh. Dr. Buckley told a joke once which reminded me of these Irishmen. . He said, “ There was an Irish tax assessor in New York whose friend had a pet goat. He sent hima tax‘ bill for eight dollars. The man came into his office ' very much incensed and asked why he had made such a tax as that on his goat. The Irishman took down his book of instructions and showed him the page which said, ‘ All property abounding and abutting on the front street must be taxed four dollars a front foot.’’’ Two Irishmen were going along the road and they saw a gallows.. One of them said to the other, “ Pat, if those gallows had their just dues where would you be?” “Sure, I would be walking along here alone.” Such wit we were accustomed to all the time in Libby Prison. I think it kept us alive. One day Dr. Sebal, the Confederate surgeon, who still lives in Jacksonville, Florida, and whom I love, came to me and said, “ Chaplain, I will have to ask you to go to the hospital.” The fact was, I was com- ing down with typhoid fever. When I was last in Richmond I saw the canal that flowed by the prison and remembered how we used to get our water to 142 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE drink from it, and how our sewer pipe emptied into it, and I wondered that we did not all die. I was taken to the hospital to wrestle for six weeks with the dread fever. As they took me downstairs, I heard footsteps behind me and as I looked around there came Willie Morgan. ‘ Where are you going, Wil- lie?” I asked. “I’m going with you, sir.” “You had better go back and stay with the doctor.” ‘ No,” he said, “I’m going to take care of you.” I saw him prepare my bed of straw with a dirty blanket laid over it. I saw him brush off the vermin with his hand. ° He folded up my old overcoat and it was the only pil- low I had. I went down to the gates of death. One day I awakened to consciousness and they were hold- , ing a consultation about me. I knew by their faces that they thought I could not get well. The doctor said something to Willie in low tones and then I heard him say, “ You’re a good boy. Just give him this medicine every hour.” One day soon after Major- General Powell, a dear friend, came in and sat down beside me. He took out his pocket scissors and cut off my long beard and unkempt hair and gave me a bath with his own hands. He afterwards told my wife that the condition in which he found me as he turned back the soiled blanket and saw me lying cov- ered with vermin was a sight he could not well endure. After he had made me as comfortable as possible, he said, “ Chaplain, there is a letter for you; would you like to hear it?” The letter was from Dr. Isaac Crook, a member from my own Conference. He told me that they had just had a session of Conference LECTURE 143 and that when my name was called they had said, “ He is in Libby Prison.” The bishop who was pre- siding spoke of the time when Paul and Barnabas were prayed out of prison and suggested that they pray for me. Two hundred and fifty Methodist preachers got down on their knees and asked for my release. I was used to suffering; I could endure loneliness without tears, but I was not used to tender- ness, and that tender letter broke me down. The tears rolled down my cheeks like rain. As soon as I could control myself, I began to sing. I broke out into a profuse perspiration and the tide was turned. In the evening the doctor came in and felt my pulse and started back in surprise. “ Why,’ said he, “there’s a big change in you. That last medicine has helped you wonderfully,” and he rolled up a big blue- mass pill and gave it to me with a drink of water; but I got well all the same! In twelve days Willie Morgan stood by my side, his face all aglow, and said, “ Chaplain, we’re exchanged! We are going home this morning and the ambulance is standing at the door. They have sent me to wash and dress you.” Then they picked me up and carried me down to the ambulance. I weighed less than one hun- dred pounds. We went to Petersburg by water and there took the train. A man came into the car with a basket and walked right up to me and gave me a piece of fried chicken and some bread, and also gave some to Willie Morgan; and I said to him, “Sir, what is your name?” “T am Captain Hatch,” he said. I asked 144 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE him how he knew me, and he answered, “ Ask your father when you get home.” When I reached home I asked my father how Captain Hatch happened to know me, and he said, “‘ My son, I went clear down to Fortress Monroe after you and, when I could get no further, I sent word along the line; and if you were a Mason you would understand.” So I never knew how Captain Hatch happened to know me; but some- how I have always associated Masonry and fried chicken; and if any one asks me what Masonry is, I answer, “It is a thing that gives a fellow fried chicken when he is hungry.” Oh, friends, not a word of exaggeration shall pass my lips, when I tell you of the voyage home. What was it just to be going home! They laid me down on the deck of the vessel under the flag that was float- ing above me. Willie was by my side, his blue eyes out on the James River down which we were steaming. By and by, a Union soldier stepped in front of me and called out, “ Hello, don’t you want something to eat?’ Then he put a tin plate down on my breast and on it was a piece of beefsteak and a baked potato. Friends, I have seen Niagara, I have walked amid the grandeur of Yosemite Valley, but I never saw any- thing that moved my soul like that beefsteak and baked potato! Then they brought me coffee and it was hot, and in half an hour I was able to walk. I took Willie’s arm and we strolled about the boat. There were four hundred men on it. I saw that two of them were dying. The doctor was leaning over one to catch his words. He was saying, “‘ Doctor, couldn’t LECTURE 145 you give me something to strengthen me a little so I could just get home? I want to get home once more.” But the doctor could not. They placed the men in rude coffins and nailed them up and sent them home to their loved ones. Down the James we went and up the Potomac, and landed at Washington. As soon as I put my foot on land I enquired for a telegraph office and sent this message, “ We are safe and coming,” and a few hours afterwards the despatch was thrown into the lap of a blue-eyed lady out in Ohio, and she and our little boy went aside to give thanks. I cannot forget that many a wife and mother in this audience had a differ- ent message from that. When we went away, the regiment turned the corner of the road and the band was playing and the flags flying and your boy turned and lifted his cap and swung it over his head and sent back a cheerful smile, which meant that he would come back again; but he never came back. He sleeps . in a soldier’s honoured grave. God bless you who have lost your loved ones, and God bless you, old soldiers, whom I see before me to- night! You are the men who saved your country! If it had not been for you and men like you, the Republic would have been lost and we would have had no flag flying over our homes to-night. God bless you! and when Death beats his low tattoo for you, I hope that the next sound you hear will be the reveille of angels, and that you will hear God’s voice say- ing, “ Well done, old soldier, the war is over. Come unto me and rest,” and may I be there to greet you! XV THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION—PERSONAL EXPERIENCE AND REFLECTIONS FTER his release from Libby Prison and dur- A ing the closing months of 1863, while recover- ing his health, the Chaplain became interested in the United States Christian Commission. It ap- pealed so strongly to his patriotic and Christian sym- pathies that he gladly accepted invitations to take part in their meetings, and when it was discovered that his magnetic song and oratory roused and thrilled his audiences the managers of the Commission lost no time in enlisting him in this beneficent cause. Resign- ing his chaplaincy, January 8, 1864, he soon after, on March 29, 1864, received his commission as a dele- gate of the United States Christian Commission and entered more fully into the work in which he had al- ready proven his marvellous efficiency. The Christian Commission was an organisation that grew out of the efforts of the various Young Men’s Christian Asso- ciations of the North to minister to the physical and spiritual needs of the soldiers and sailors in camp, and field, and hospital. Many young men from these Asso- ciations had gone to the war. Their friends at home conceived the idea of sending them such help as could be furnished in special articles of clothing, food, del- 146 THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION 147 icacies, religious reading, and the consolation of men who had been commissioned to visit them in the army. At a convention of these Associations, held in New York, November 16, 1861, it was resolved to organise the United States Christian Commission. In the first report of the Commission, published in 1862, the design of the organisation is stated to be as follows: “The design of the Commission has been to arouse the Christian Associations and the Christian men and women of the loyal States to such action towards the men in our army and navy as would be pleasing to the Master; to obtain and direct volunteer labours and to collect stores and money with which to supply what- ever was needed, reading matter and articles necessary for health not furnished by Government or other agen- cies, and to give the officers and men of our army and navy the best Christian ministries for both body and soul possible in their circumstances.” Of this Com- mission George H. Stuart, a wealthy and philanthropic Christian layman of Philadelphia, was the chairman, and among the members were such prominent minis- ters and laymen as Bishop Matthew Simpson, Bishop Edmund Janes, Bishop C. P. McIlvaine, Rev. Rollin H. Neal, D.D., Rev. F. Wayland, D.D., Rev. W. E. Boardman, D.D., General Clinton B. Fisk, Jay Cook, J. V. Farwell, W. E. Dodge, Hon. Schuyler Colfax, and others. The Commission issued its last report in 1866 with the statement: “ By the blessing of God on the Federal Arms, this the fifth Annual Report closes the work of the United States Christian Commission.” And what a noble work it had accomplished! Dur- 148 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE ing the four years of its existence it had collected and distributed money and supplies to the sum of $6,- 291,107.68. The Commission established agencies throughout the loyal States and sent out delegates to solicit funds. In every city the cause was presented and collections were taken to aid the work. Agents or delegates followed the armies and codperated with the surgeons, chaplains, and nurses in distributing food, clothing, medicine, fruits, tracts, Bibles, and other reading matter. The work expanded into a dis- tinctly religious and evangelistic movement, Gospel meetings were held in thé camps, and revivals of great interest were conducted in which hundreds and thou- sands of soldiers were converted. It may well be imagined how congenial such a work as this was to the intense evangelistic temperament of Chaplain McCabe. How splendidly did his glori- ous song and burning eloquence fit him for this mis- sion among the soldiers whom he loved! And what a power to move great audiences had he acquired in the experiences of Libby Prison! In both de- partments of the work he was one of the most effi- cient agents of this great Commission. Whether pleading for money throughout the North or sing- ing and preaching to the soldiers in Southern camps, he was equally happy and successful. His love of church and of country was a consuming passion, and his very zeal did well-nigh eat him up. It cannot be said that at any time during these years of 1864-1865 he was a well man. His excessive labours, travelling, preaching, singing, delivering ad- THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION 149 dresses, holding revivals, and collecting large sums of money, often so exhausted him that several days of painful illness would follow his tremendous exer- tions. But Chaplain McCabe never suffered so much from the: pain of illness as he did from the idleness which an illness necessitated. He was never patient when doing nothing. In his journal of those years are frequent expressions revealing his love for work, his impatience with enforced idleness, and his apprecia- tion of the value of time. “Spent the day in hard work. In one thing I want to rival the great apostle. In labours I would be abundant. A life of ceaseless activity is a life of ceaseless pleasure.” “ Kept my bed all day. It is well to suffer; it is well to do; it is sometimes better to suffer than to do, because it re- quires more self-denial. I am so sorry to be compelled to leave my work at this time. The place of labour and sacrifice is my Peniel, where I see God face to face. What a joyful chapter this history of the past three weeks forms in my life. I have been happy be- cause I have been successful in my great work. What joy is like the joy of harvest? If I had been more care- ful of my health I might have prolonged my labours; perhaps I am to blame in the matter; yet it is hard to be prudent when there is so much to do. I suppose I shall lecture a while for the Christian Commission when I get able to do anything.” ‘There is no place like home, and there is no home like mine. To me it is an enchanting place. I would never leave it did not duty so peremptorily call me. I very much re- 150 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE gret that I am compelled to be inactive at the present time, but ‘they also serve who only stand and wait.’ ” “Labouring and enjoying seem to go together in my Christian experience ; seldom do I enjoy near views of the glory of God unless some flash of light from the Cross of Jesus upon the path of some poor sinner led thither by my hand reveals it to me. Yet I know this is not as it should be; why not grow in grace in the sick-room? Others have! Why may not I? Here I am, just at the moment I fondly expected to be winning an immortal fortune in the army, a helpless invalid. I have not even the consolation of saying: “Let God’s will be done,’ because I have brought this last sickness upon me by my own excesses. Who can preach four or five times upon the Sabbath without soon impairing his health. Yet I have been foolish enough to think that I could do so. The temptation , is very great in the army to excessive labour. There are men ready, eager for the word of life. There is the Gospel, the blessed Gospel—the waiting host and the everlasting promises. Who can help utter them? Oh, who that has ever felt a Saviour’s love in his own heart can refrain from lifting up his voice like a trumpet and calling the sorrowful and sin-burdened souls around him to the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world? I would give anything to be able for duty.” “Resting, reading, chafing, I wish I could go to work with vehemence. I weary of doing little or nothing.” “From all accounts I must be a very stubborn and THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION 151 self-willed sort of person. That is the character I get from all my relatives, even from my wife. I hope I do not deserve all they say of me. They think I am killing myself. That I will fill an early grave as the re- sult of my own excesses. Well, be it so, rather than my zeal should be quenched or even dampened. At the risk of being thought self-willed then I hope to con- tinue my labours for others’ weal with even more in- tensity than ever. I cannot blame my friends, how- ever, for their anxiety, but the place of labour and of sacrifice is my Peniel! Until I get there my soul is not at rest. My family talk to me as though I was stubbornly bent on suicide. They do not know how I want to live on and accomplish something ere I fall asleep. While I do not think that death would in the least appal me, I am not anxious to die until I can afford it. It is a great matter to wind up a proba- tion on earth and close forever one’s opportunity for doing good. I aspire to rival Paul in one thing, and that is hard work. I tried it in the army last spring, and wore my body down until I was forced to abandon the field. A life of activity is the life for me, and especially when I labour directly for Christ in the work of saving souls.” “God repays me so amply for the little service I render Him, and how small that service is! How easily might another perform it and I be unmissed in the round of duty and in the Lord’s vineyard! Yet God more than repays me for each effort J make for the advancement of His Kingdom. With the work of the Lord, when prosecuted with vigour, there is con- 152 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE nected a richness of enjoyment not elsewhere to be found. Labour is my rest.” Few men have ever put 4 more conscientious value on time than Chaplain McCabe. His was a life crowded with unremitting activity. His work com- pletely absorbed him. He was consecrated, soul, mind, and body, to the promotion of the interests of God’s kingdom in this world. He seemed to be dominated by the idea, “The King’s business re- quireth haste.” While in the world he was not of it. From childhood to the hour in which he heard “ the one clear call,” time was to him a sacred thing, life one holy day, and the greatest satisfaction and glory of living was found in noble duties nobly done. If in speaking of the value of time he now and then be- comes facetious, he is none the less sincere. ‘“‘ Wasted most of this day shopping,” he writes in his journal; “Job never shopped all day, or there might have been at least one stain on his marble reputation. It may be a pleasure to ladies to pull down goods and examine them, but I never could see just where the pleasure lies. My chief regret is, however, the loss of time which can never be made up. We can waste years of time, but we are utterly unable to create a moment. All our wisdom, all our efforts, could not delay one moment the knell of time. It is of time I wish to be careful. I have lost much, and it seems to me my progress has been slow, considering the efforts I have made.” “ Spent the day wasting time, fearful work!” Again he writes, on a late December day, in 1864, “ The old year is dying, and I have not accomplished THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION 153 what I have intended. Did any one ever come up to his ideal? I suppose not; if it were so, there would be nothing left to aspire for. I would see the year close with better feelings if there were not so many actual transgressions to set over against the mercy of God.” At ten o’clock of New Year’s eve of that closing year, he wrote: “ I am taking leave of the old year. It is a sad parting: I have not fulfilled the promises I made to myself and the blessed Master when the year opened. ‘ Thou that takest away the sins of the world have mercy on me.’ I have been greatly blamed for hard work, but my only answer to all such accusations is, I have not done enough; profitless came the year, profitless it departs; yet I would not take a gloomy view of 1864, some sheaves I shall bear in the great day when angels shout the ‘ Harvest Home,’ which shall bear the mark of the year that is dying now. My labours in the army last spring afford me much pleas- ure in memory. God was with me there. Souls were converted and many quickened. Would that I could labour thus until the end of the war.” He begins his journal for 1865 at 12:30 o’clock on New Year’s morning with these reflections and reso- lutions: “I live to see the beginning of another year, a year which I trust, should I live to see its close, will prove the most profitable of my life. I have seen the old year die and the new year begin to live. Almighty Father, forgive the errors of the one and assist me to fulfil in my life and labours the hopes of the other! I desire during the year that lies before me or during 154 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE that part of it in which my life may be spared to live to purpose, to accomplish more for God and the truth. I hope to improve my mind more diligently than ever; to study the Scriptures with greater care and pa- tience; to commit to memory at least five verses per day; to perform better. and more constantly the duty of self-examination; to preach more earnestly and to aim more directly to save souls; to pray more than ever, lingering at the throne of grace; to magnify Christ, whether by life or by death; to be ready to die at any moment. It is a mighty task, but God is mighty. In Him is everlasting strength and He is my inherit- ance.” XVI WORK AMONG THE SOLDIERS—REVIVALS— CONVERSIONS HAPLAIN McCABE was never happier than CO when at the front, holding revivals and lead- ing the soldiers to Christ. When the request came to him at Washington, in February, 1864, that he prepare to take the home field for a while in the financial interests of the Christian Commission, he wrote in his journal: “I will do so rather under pro- test from my own conscience. I feel a yearning to be at the front, and to share the dangers and privations of my old comrades. Yet I suppose I can go to the front in a few weeks at the farthest.” The extent and success of his labours, and the great joy he experienced in preaching and discharging the other duties of a delegate of the Commission to the soldiers, he recorded with great satisfaction, as the following extracts from his journal testify: “Instead of rest, I have had exceptional labours to-day (Sunday). Have held four or five meetings in the different hospitals and camps around the city. Started this morning upon my preaching tour. I preached at Kendal Green and in the afternoon at Camp Barry. Mrs. Beck, daughter of Judge Greer, one of the judges upon the supreme bench, accom- 155 156 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE panied me to Camp Barry. There we had a most de- lightful meeting. Many tears were shed. It is a solemn sight to gaze upon a large body of soldiers waiting for the Gospel. Mrs. Beck is a most delight- ful singer: she has been with the Army of the Poto- | mac a great while. In the evening I preached at As- bury Chapel to the coloured people. The congrega- tion was immense. The well-trained choir gave us some music, the equal of which I never heard from any choir. They sang one anthem, ‘ Behold what manner of love,’ that thrilled the depths of my soul. I had a good time preaching.” This reference to the singing of the coloured peo- ple and his preaching to them with much liberty and satisfaction will justify the insertion here of other extracts from the Chaplain’s journal, in which he re- fers with pride and pleasure to the people for whose liberty he was fighting, and in whose possibilities he had the greatest faith, and of whose mental, spiritual, and political future he never ceased to prophecy with abounding hope and confidence. '“T have passed a delightful day,” he writes at Camp Stoneman. “Brother Adams and I went about to visit the soldiers, carrying with us reading matter and distributing it to them. We found some in whom we were greatly interested. We also visited the coloured hospital. I asked one coloured man, who was very sick, whether he knew how to pray. ‘I do,’ said he. ‘ What do you say when you pray?’ I asked. ‘Our Father which art in heaven,’ then looking me steadily in the face with a feeble voice and many tears WORK AMONG THE SOLDIERS 157 he repeated the whole prayer through. I sang him a song and prayed for and with him. This evening we had a meeting in the chapel tent. My chains fell off and God made my great commission known. Three noble young men came forward for prayers. The work is deepening. I am getting more interested in its progress. . . . I feel happy to-night; God smiles upon me.” When the Chaplain was at City Point, in October of 1864, and visited all the important localities, he wrote in his journal: “ The negro troops hold much of the line between this Fort and the extreme right. If they are chattels, a mighty trust is reposed in them. Should they prove unfaithful, it would be disastrous to the entire army. But no one expects anything from them like unfaithfulness. They will be true. I could but admire their cheerfulness. They are fighting in no common way. If captured, their death is well- night certain. Fort Pillow is still unavenged, yet still they fight on. They still enlist, and God grant that they may fight their way to liberty and social posi- tion.” Chaplain McCabe lived to see not only the freedom of the negro, who had been unrighteously held in bondage on this continent for two hundred and fifty years, but also to witness the marvellous development of the race in all that fits them for American citizen- ship. In domestic economy, industrial efficiency, mechanical skill, professional ability, in education, morals, self-reliance, patriotism, and spirituality of religion, no race ever made such improvement in 158 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE forty-five years’ time as the negro race has made in the United States since Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation. But to continue the Chaplain’s record of his work while at the front as a delegate of the Christian Commission: “I love to preach to the soldiers. They are the best men of the country. I hope I shall never forget ‘what they have done for me.’ “ Everything looks favourable for a good work at this station (Camp Stoneman). This preaching place is like an oasis amid the wild wastes of war.” “A most laborious day, I have attended two prayer- meetings, and have preached three times. The con- gregations were all large and attentive. The work is progressing. We are hoping for a great ingathering of souls. Iam weary in the work of my Master, but, thank God, I never weary of it. How I love it! Oh, that all my powers might be consecrated to this blest employ!” “Brandy Station. Came down to the army to-day. Had no difficulty in finding my old regiment. Was warmly greeted by all. I tried to preach this evening from these words: ‘If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me.’ Two seekers of religion presented themselves. The meeting was a very profit- able one, and I doubt not much good may be accom- plished here. There is a general desire for me to come back into the regiment as Chaplain. I will wait awhile before I decide to do so. In the meantime, I will pray for the direction of the Holy Spirit. I am glad I am back in the army again. It is good to be WORK AMONG THE SOLDIERS 159 here. I love to labour among these noble men. No man, surely, could ask a better field of usefulness.” “Our meeting to-night was well attended. The chapel was full. Fourteen souls asked the prayers of God’s people. The conflict deepens. Hell is gather- ing its forces, but our Jesus will conquer, as usual. In His name I will set up my banner. I feel a longing desire to win an immortal fortune. Lord, breathe upon my soul and let it live anew in Thee! ” “ Delightful day! How sweet a Sabbath thus to spend! I arose this morning with a great desire to see the salvation of God. Held my seekers’ meeting at nine o’clock; it was a good time. My heart was greatly melted. No one was converted, however. Can it be it is through our want of faith that souls do not enter into the light and liberty of God’s dear chil- dren with more rapidity? I preached to the regiment from ‘ Behold, I stand at the door and knock.’ The congregation was large and attentive. I felt consider- able liberty in preaching. I feel an increase in my longing to see souls converted. Preached to-night in the chapel from Isaiah 48:18. Had a charming meet- ing. Four new souls asked the prayers of God’s peo- ple. There are now eighteen. O for convicting power !” “Had a most blessed meeting this morning at nine o’clock. Quite a large number present. To-night, at the call for seekers of salvation, there were seventeen new ones. They now number thirty in all since last Friday evening. Several were converted this evening. The work goes forward. To God be all the glory!” 160 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE “The work goes on with power. Souls are being converted. I am full of labours, and I love to work for the weal of others. Jesus has shown me the secret of happiness.” “ Preached a dedicatory sermon this evening in the new chapel of the 110th Ohio. We had a large con- gregation, and there is every prospect of a harvest there also. The regiment has a Chaplain, but the re- ligious element is so strong in the army meetings, and religious services can be kept up with or without a preacher. The number of names upon my seekers’ list now amounts to thirty-seven. I have commenced a Bible Class with the young converts. We shall doubtless find it exceedingly profitable. I find a lib- erty in preaching and talking to the enquirers such as I never felt before. The convictions are pungent. The conversions are clear and powerful.” “Our meeting this morning was of great interest. I never knew a service more easily managed than this is. It is no trouble. Everything is done so promptly. When I call the seekers of religion to the altar, they come at once. Even before the words of invitation are spoken, the altar is full. The speaking is done with great promptness. There are none of those long, chilling pauses which are so common in many meet- ings. ‘Love makes labour light.’ Our Bible Class is getting very large. I shall divide it to-morrow. It is too large for me to manage; I think of dividing it into four classes. Our meeting to-night was a suc- cess. Eight new souls started in the way of life. We have now in all fifty-three. Blessed be God! One WORK AMONG THE SOLDIERS 161 week ago to-night, I met with the brethren here for the first time. To God be all the glory!” “Attended my meeting for enquiring souls this morning at seven-thirty. It was well attended. Held a meeting in the chapel of the 6th Maryland at half- past ten. At one, I went to the prayer-meeting of the 110th Ohio, where God is working in a glorious man- ner. At three-thirty I met my Bible Class. At night I preached for the 6th Maryland. It was a time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. Four were converted and testified to the power of Christ to save, before the congregation. I feel quite weary to-night, but I love this blessed work far more than I can tell.” “A most delightful day (Sunday)! I have been very happy in the Saviour’s love all day long. My meeting at the chapel this morning for the benefit of seekers of religion was of great interest. It does seem that this blessed work had but just commenced. At ten-thirty I preached to the 6th Maryland assembled in front of regimental headquarters. At half-past two attended a communion service at the chapel of the 126th Ohio. It was a precious service. How it nerves my heart to see those brave men weeping around the Cross! Many communed; several were baptised. Took tea with Chaplain Foote of the 151st New York. I preached for him this evening. Now worn out with manifold labours I seek my bed. I am happy in God. I rejoice in the privilege of labour- ing for Christ. I am glad I was called to preach the Gospel. I put the seventieth name upon my seekers’ list to-night. 162 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE ‘‘« Breathe, blessed Jesus, a Sabbath o’er my soul.’” It was in the midst of these strenuous labours in which he found so much joy and satisfaction that his strength gave out and he was obliged to leave the front and return to his home, then in Chicago, to regain his health. During these spells of exhaustion he suffered much pain, but bore it heroically, complaining only of the time lost in lying idle when his eager spirit longed to be in the thick of the toil and battle. With all the power and success of his later secre- tarial activities with which we are most familiar there is no part of this good and great man’s life more worthy of his Church’s and his country’s gratitude, .. and of every preacher’s, every Christian’s, every army chaplain’s study, praise, and emulation, than the part of his life which was so fully consecrated to evangel- istic work among the soldiers of those Civil War days, XVII “DOOMED TO RAISE MONEY ”—SUCCESS— ESTIMATE OF MEN—FISK, VINCENT, SIMP- SON, AMES, MERRILL S soon as he was able to leave his bed, the Chap- A lain was in the home field pushing forward with extraordinary vigour and success the fi- nancial interests of the Christian Commission. Wher- ever he appeared to present the cause vast multitudes greeted him, eager to hear the “ Singing Chaplain” tell the thrilling story of his Libby Prison experiences, describe the glorious work of revival among the sol- diers at the front, and sing the songs which melted them to tears or roused them to a wild pitch of pa- triotic enthusiasm. The Chaplain was assigned to the district which comprised the States of Iowa, Wis- consin, and Illinois, and it was his desire and pur- pose to raise no less than $250,000 for the work of the Commission. While in this field he laboured so con- stantly if not intemperately that he was often sud- denly attacked with complete exhaustion and a pain- fut illness that alarmed his friends. But he was always buoyed up with the hope: “I shall soon be able to again take up the work.” Nevertheless, with all the success that attended his efforts in the North, he longed to be with the soldiers at the front. It was 163 164 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE when in this mood that he recorded in his journal what may be considered as nearly as anything a proph- ecy of his future career. He wrote in his journal of 1864 these significant words: “ I seem doomed to raise money. And I hope I am not grieving the Lord when I do it.” Yes, that was, indeed, his destiny. But little could he have imagined what that reflection fully meant. He had no vision of that great future which awaited him in the Church Extension and Missionary secretaryships, yet was he “ doomed to raise money.” Was not God fitting and training him for his remark- able career in which he was “ doomed to raise money ” by millions for the Church and for the Kingdom of Heaven? It was while engaged in raising money for the Christian Commission that he first became ac- quainted with the noble men who in their Christian patriotism and their patriot Christianity codperated with him in organising meetings and enlisting the sym- pathy of the liberal-minded people in their communi- ties. Men who have since reached distinction were then pastors in comparatively obscure fields. Their names frequently appear in the Chaplain’s journal in connection with the records of those stirring days. It is interesting now to read this extract from his record of a visit to Detroit:.“ Brother Palmer, a young man of this city, came to take me to his Sab- bath-school. I addressed the children. I went there to hear brother Buckley * preach at Woodward Ave- nue Church. He was a stranger to me, a young man from New Hampshire recently. Brother Palmer at ¥*Dr. J. M. Buckley, now editor of The Christian Advocate. “DOOMED TO RAISE MONEY” 165 the close of the service told him of my presence and I was permitted to announce our Christian Commis- sion meeting for to-night. When the benediction was pronounced hosts of friends gathered around me in good old Methodistic style and invited me to dine. I went with the host of brother Buckley, and found a charming family.” In the record of his visit to Rockford, Illinois, we find this charming reference to a Sunday’s experience: “Was invited to preach, but declined; am not well enough to preach. Went to hear brother Vincent.* His sermon was refreshing to my soul. His subject was the temptation of Christ in the wilderness. It was an excellent discourse and was delivered with great power.” “JT became acquainted with brothers Chadwick, Mead, Vincent, and Blanchard. The last named is the Presiding Elder of the District.” “Am invited to breakfast this morning with bro- ther Vincent.” “Met some pleasant society around brother Vin- cent’s table.” An interesting extract from the record of a Sun- day’s work at St. Louis reads: “ This morning I visited the Sabbath-school at brother Cox’s church. I way perfectly delighted, and made them a short ad- dress. The singing was glorious. Mrs. General Fisk presided at the organ. I tried to preach to the mighty congregation from, ‘If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things that belong to thy * Bishop John H. Vincent. 166 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE peace, but now they are hid from thine eyes.’ Was invited to dine with General Fisk. The country is happy in having a few generals at least who are Chris- tian men; seldom have I met any more deeply religious than General Fisk.” ; It was during these years of extensive travel throughout the country, in the work of the Christian Commission, that the Chaplain had the opportunity of meeting and hearing the most distinguished preach- ers and orators of the day, and in several instances he recorded his impressions of them. “New York. Called upon Dr. Foster * and family. Randolph Fos- ter’s name is like a household word to me. His work on ‘Christian Purity’ I regard as one of the most beneficial I have ever read. I met it years ago, and have read it often since.” “ Altoona, Pa. Was pleasantly surprised by meet- ing Bishop Ames at the hotel. He is one of the most genial of men. It is a very great pleasure to spend a few hours in his society. He is now fifty-nine years old, yet he is seldom hindered by want of perfect health from the performance of any of his duties. I wish I could attain such health; but perhaps an experi- ence in the hands of the rebels such as mine would break his constitution also.” It was during the session of his Conference, which met in Chillicothe, Ohio, in the month of September, 1864, that the Chaplain enjoyed one of the most de- lightful experiences of his life. It was the first Con- ference after his release from Libby Prison, and, as * Became a Bishop in the Methodist Episcopal Church. “DOOMED TO RAISE MONEY ” 167 he said, he “ was anticipating a most delightful time of it.” His anticipations were fully realised, as may be learned from his journal, in which he sets down his just and generous appreciation of the great men whom he there met and heard. A few of their number are still living and will recall the memorable experiences of that Conference as they read these extracts from the Chaplain’s diary, written forty-four years ago. “ September 8, 1864. Conference opened this morn- ing with most of the members present. Bishop Ames is presiding. The venerable Bishop Morris is here and sometimes takes the chair. He is almost home. Never did a man enjoy more perfectly the confidence and esteem of all his brethren than does this good old man. He has seen the little one become a thousand in this western land. Immediately is his history bound up with the history of Methodism in this part of the country. There is a prospect of having a good spirit- ual Conference.” “ Sept. 9. I was invited to preach to-night, but de- clined and secured the services of brother Thoburn,* the returned missionary, in my place. The congrega- tion was intensely interested in the account he gave of life in India, and while he gave some portion of his religious experience shouts of praise filled the house.” “ Sept. 10. The business of the Conference is pro- gressing so rapidly that there might be a probability of being able to adjourn very soon, but we are to re- main here until next Wednesday in order to meet the * Since became Missionary Bishop for India, 168 THE LIFE OF CHAPLAIN McCABE Cincinnati Conference. I am very glad of it, for the whole thing is a delight to my soul. I am happy every way. God is with me, and I am with my brethren of the past. Men who have known me from my boy- hood are here. The Missionary Anniversary was held this evening. Addresses were made by Dr. Reid, brother Thoburn, and Dr. Durbin.” “ Sunday, Sept. 11. One of the days of the Son of Man! A high day!