CIIAKI.KS AliKAHAM 11 A U 1. A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES BY / GEORGE ARTHUR ANDREWS ^ BOSTON CHICAGO THE LIBRARY OT CONGRESS, Two Cofits ReceivED JUN. 10 1901 COPVRIGMT ENTRY (o,f9of COPY a. /l^l/l^JL Copyright, 1901 By George Arthur Andrews THE memorial PRESS, PLYMOUTH, MASS. CONTENTS PAGE I A Christian Hero, 7 II Glimpses of Home Life, lO III Among his Mates, 21 IV "For Christ and the Church," 29 V Camping and Tramping, 37 VI Quiet Walks and Talks, 45 VII The Enlistment, 54 VIII Last Days at Home, 61 IX Rough Experiences, 67 4 CONTENTS X Uncomfortable Quarters, 78 XI Ministering to the Sick, 97 XII His Life for Others, 109 XIII Yet Living, 117 THIS STORY OF CARL S LIFE IS AFFEC- TIONATELY DEDICATED TO HIS PARENTS. THEIR TENDER, TRUSTFUL LIVES WERE ONCE HIS INSPIRATION; THEIR QUIET RESIGNATION TO THE WILL OF THEIR LOV- ING FATHER IS NOW AN INSPIRATION TO MANY. A CHRISTIAN HERO In "The '98 Campaign of the Sixth Massachu- setts, U. S. v.," by Lieutenant Edwards, among other memorials of those who gave their lives in the service of their country there appears the follow- ing:— "Charles Abraham Hart, son of Charles S. Hart, Deputy Superintendent of the Massachusetts Re- formatory at Concord, was born in Springfield, Massachusetts, September 30, 1881, and enlisted in Company I, Sixth Massachusetts Infantry, on Bunker Hill Day, June 17, 1898. He was a mem- ber of the Concord High School at the time of his enlistment, and was only sixteen years of age. Join- ing the company with his older brother, William A. Hart, who was eighteen, he went with his regiment to foreign service. "Upon arrival at Porto Rico, 'Carl' entered the hospital service to care for his brother who had been stricken with typhoid fever. His brother's return to this country on a hospital ship left the young lad alone in that distant land. He was separated for weeks from his regiment, working hard and faith- fully in the hospital among the sick; a favorite with 8 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES Major Dow and Lieutenant Gross, with whom he worked, because of his unswerving attention to duty. "But hardships on the 'Yale,' weary hours with the sick, long marches and climatic conditions at last told on the superb young body, and thus when he was finally attacked by the dread typhoid, he fell an easy victim. He passed away on the twenty-sixth of September, four days before his seventeenth birth- day. His body was brought home with his regi- ment on the transport 'Mississippi,' and buried with military honors in the far-famed and beautiful Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in old Concord. "He was a lover of nature, and preeminent in all manly sports, a member of the Union Church of Con- cord, and president of the Young People's Society of Christian Endeavor connected with his church. He died beloved and deeply mourned by all with whom he was associated." In this simple story there is much to arrest the at- tention and to arouse the sympathy of even the most casual reader — his youth, his separation from his brother and his regiment, his "unswerving attention to duty," his illness contracted in the service of the sick, and his death so far away from home and loved ones. But the most remarkable part of the biography is that contained in the last paragraph. "He was a lover of nature, preeminent in all manly sports, a member of the church, president of the Christian En- A CHRISTIAN HERO 9 deavor Society" — all this and only a boy! A natural boy, a manly boy, and a Christian leader, and he died before he was seventeen. To all of us who knew Carl, his natural, manly life of Christian service has been an inspiration; and in the hope that others may catch something of his Christian spirit the attempt is here made to narrate some of the characteristic incidents of his unassum- ing life of devotion to his Master. The author gratefully acknowledges his indebted- ness to all of Carl's friends who have gladly assisted him in his preparation for the work. He regrets the necessity for the introduction of any imaginary details into his narrative. But since all of Carl's associates mentioned in the following pages are liv- ing, some change of names and of the setting of in- cidents became unavoidable. No incident, how- ever, has been introduced which did not have its ex- act counterpart in Carl's real life. II GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE It was a dull November afternoon in the year 1897, and the Reformatory, which at its best is a somewhat dreary place, seemed to me exceptionally depressing. Then, too, I had been listening to some dismal tale of homesickness from one of the new pris- oners, a tale even more dismal than the usual prison- er's tale. So, as I stood looking out from the win- dows of the chaplain's office, I was feeling lonely and sad. The door opened without ceremony and a boy dressed in football uniform stood before me. He had been playing. His clothes were covered with mud, his hair was disheveled, and from a slight scratch on his face the blood was trickling down his cheek unnoticed. "I thought the governor was here," he said, with a half-apologetic laugh. "Who is the governor?" I asked. I knew, for I had seen the boy several times and had been told that he was the deputy's son. But his very presence had already so brig"htened me that I wished to detain him. "I thought everybody knew the governor," he 10 GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE n said. "The governor 's the deputy, and I 'm his 'ne'er-do-well' ". He laughed, not boisterously, but heartily, in a manner all his own. "The 'ne'er-do-well,' are you? Then I suppose you are not the one who stands near the head of his class at school, and who writes poetry for the school paper?" "Well, not exactly. That 's Allie. He 's older than I. I 'm the one who stands near the foot of the class and who plays football." "Possibly the football is as good for you as the poetry would be," I remarked. "You 're the one they call Carl, then. I 've heard of you, too. You are larger and stronger than Allie, are n't you?" "Just a little." He looked at me quizzically from beneath his overhanging hair and a half smile played upon his full lips. "How much do you think I weigh?" "In that padded suit you look as though you weigh about two hundred; but I should say for a guess that you tip about a hundred and ■^ixty." "A hundred and seventy when I 'm in fighting trim," he said. "Well, can you lick 'the governor' yet?" I asked, laughing. "Not quite yet. He '11 have to eat a few more puddings before he can do that." The question was answered by Deputy Hart himself, who had slipped in through the door which Carl had left open. 12 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "Well, you 're a sight !" the deputy continued, eye- ing Carl from head to foot. "Why do n't you go and wash up?" "I wanted to find you first and tell you about the game." "Oh, 3^ou beat them, then, did you?" "Yes, sir, sixteen to four. And you said this noon that they 'd wipe the ground with us." "You look as though they 'd wiped the ground with you, anyway. Come, skip off and fix up." When Carl had left the room his father turned to me. I had never before seen such an expression of tender love on his strong, rugged face. The deputy superintendent is the prisoners' disciplina- rian, and while about his work Mr. Hart's face is more generally expressive of stern justice than of tenderness. He was not the disciplinarian now, but the father. "There 's a boy I can't understand," he said. "I have seven boys and one girl. Most of their dis- positions I think I can account for, but this one sticks me. If I were half as good as that boy, if I always did my duty as unquestioningly and fearless- ly as he does his, then this Reformatory would have a deputy superintendent worthy of his office." And then, as though half ashamed of himself, he suddenly turned away and left the room. The deputy's apartments occupy one side of the front wing of the Reformatory, and it is only a step GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE 13 from the door of the chaplain's office to the door which admits one to his home, — a step from the dreary, chilHng atmosphere of crime into the bright and sunny atmosphere of love. The instant the deputy opened the door of his home he was surrounded by four boys, and almost deafened by their united cries, "Sixteen to four!" "Sixteen to four!" "Sixteen to four!" "What 's the matter with you youngsters, any- way ?" Mr. Hart demanded, pretending to look stern. "You got left." "The Concords beat." "You told Carl that the Lexingtons would wipe the ground with them." "The Lexingtons got swiped." "Well, suppose the Lexingtons did get swiped, and suppose I did get left; it is n't the first time, is it? Make way there and let me come in." "Carl played a dandy game," volunteered Jim, the ten-year-old. "I should be ashamed of him if he did n't," his father replied, brusquely. "If he had n't played, the Lexingtons would have beat, dead sure. He made all the touch-downs him- self," remarked Clarence, aged twelve. "That 's all right. That 's what he ought to do. He played as well as he could, I suppose." "Pa, the Lexington men said that Carl played a gentlemanly game." It was Gardner, fourteen years of age, who made this remark. 14 A SOLDIER LY TWO ARMIES "That 's as it should be. too. We expect Carl to play like a gentleman, do n't we ?" "Yes, sir," from Jim. "Most boys do n't do it, though," said Gardner. "They 'd ought to, anyway," Clarence declared. "Pa, one of the Lexington fellows struck Carl in the face," said Sumner, who was only eight. "What did Carl do? Strike back?" "No, he did n't. He held the boy by the arm for a minute and said, T would n't do that again, if I were you.' " Allie, the oldest boy, made this reply as he sauntered out of the "den" and joined the group; and there was something in his tone which suggested that if he had been in Carl's place he might have acted differently. "If I had been him, I 'd have swiped him one over the eye," declared Jim, drawing himself up to his fullest height. "Do you think he 'd ought to have hit back, pa?" asked Clarence, doubtfully. "I 'm afraid I might have done it," his father re- plied; "but Carl was playing like a gentleman, you know. Now hustle and get ready for supper. Where 's your mother?" "She 's in the sewing-room mending Carl's foot- ball pants." "He just threw them down-stairs to her." It very frequently thus took two of the Hart boys to answer one question. GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE i^ If Mrs. Hart ever had an anxious thought for any of her boys they did not guess it. Like her hus- band, she treated them all as her companions whom she expected to be true to themselves and to their fellows. But while before them she was always brave and strong, beneath her outward serenity there beat a mother's anxious heart. "Do you think Carlie ought to play football ?" she asked, as her husband entered the room. "Why not ? Because his playing makes you lots of work ?" He smiled at her and she looked at him from over the dirty, torn pantaloons, smiling in return. "You know it is n't that," she said. "They 're al- ways tearing their clothes anyway, no matter what they do. But football is such a rough game! Carlie's face was all covered with blood when he came in to-night." "Yes, I saw him. But it was only a scratch. It does boys good to get knocked 'round a bit. I do n't think it will hurt him at all to play football, but I think it will help to make a man of him." "He does n't need anything to make him a man," she said, softly; but she added, quickly, "Yes, he does, too. He 's only a boy — a great, good, over- grown boy. But I can't bear to think of his getting hurt." "He won't get hurt. He can hold his own with any of them. And, more than that, he can always l6 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES play the game, as I hear that he played it this after- noon, like a gentleman. Hullo, there 's the little shaver. Come here, sonny." Four-year-old Bertie, who had been lying on the floor at his mother's feet, jumped up quickly and ran to his father. "Are you going to play football when you are a big boy?" Mr, Hart asked, as he took him on his knee. "Yes, when I 'm big like Carlie." "And will you always play like a gentleman, too?" "I think so," he said, doubtfully, "but I 'm not sure. Anyway, I '11 try if Carlie wants me to." Just then the supper-bell rang, and with much laughter and playful banter the family trooped down- stairs to the dining-room, Bertie riding triumphantly on his father's shoulder. Two chairs were vacant. But soon after the simple blessing had been asked, Clara, the one girl in the family, came in with her music-roll. She had been detained at her lesson. A few minutes after- wards, Carl came down-stairs and quietly took his seat by his father. "For the hero of the day," Mr. Hart said, play- fully, as he passed him his plate. Carl flushed deeply but made no reply. Later in the evening, after the younger children had gone to bed, Carl went into the parlor where his mother was idly playing on the piano. GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE 17 "What is it, Carlie?" she asked, still letting her fingers glide over the keys. "Play something nice, mamma; I 'm tired." "Something nice" with Carl meant somethings classical, so she stopped her desultory fingering of the keys and played one of their favorites from Mendelssohn, while he sat quietly in the big chair by her side. "Is that enough?" she asked, as she finished the score. "Yes, I guess so," he replied, wearily. "What is the matter, Carlie ?" turning to him and putting her arm around his neck. For a moment he was silent. Then he said quick- ly and almost with a sob: "Mamma, when I was dressing, I heard the boys tell father about my not striking back to-day. Do you suppose he thought that I was a coward?" "No, Carlie," she replied, stroking his thick, shag- gy hair. "He and 1 both thought that you showed yourself a gentleman and a Christian." He sat in deep thought for a few minutes more. Then his face brightened into a happy smile. "It 's all right, then," he said, rising and shaking himself, as though he would throw off all gloomy thoughts. "Now I must get back to that algebra." "Does the algebra come hard to-night ?" "Yes, awfully hard," shrugging his shoulders and making a grimace. "Allie got his done an hour ago." Chr— 2 1 8 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "Why do n't you ask him to help you?" "Oh, he 's writing something for the paper, and, besides, I want to dig it out myself." And he went back to the "den." The "den" deserves description. It was a large, back corner room nearly filled with desks and tables. Between the two west windows stood a large table continually littered with prisoners' reports and other papers pertaining to prison discipline. This was Deputy Hart's private study. In the northwest corner of the room was a desk, for the most part neatly kept, except for an occasional scribbled verse of poetry on the blotting-paper. This was Allie's private study. In the southwest corner a similar desk, not always so neatly kept, but often cluttered with bits of string, strips of linen, a bottle of arnica, a baseball glove and other athletic paraphernalia, constituted the private study of Carl; while on the other side of the room three other desks, littered with all sorts of boyish furniture, were respectively the especial property of the younger boys, Gardner, Clarence and Jim. Place a chair before each of these desks; arrange a couch and one or two other chairs carelessly about the otherwise unoccupied space in the room, and you have the "den." Fill each chair with its proper occupant and you have the "den" in o])eration. The population of the "den" always diminished as evening progressed. One by one the younger boys GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE 19 would slip out to seek their beds, until there would be left at last only Mr. Hart and the two older ones, with Mrs. Hart, it may be, sitting by, quietly read- ing or mending some boy's torn clothing. Then all work would be put aside, and the four would have a game of whist before retiring. "It 's time for the whist," Mr. Hart said one even- ing a few weeks after the football game. "Come on." He pushed aside the papers on his desk and took a pack of cards from his drawer. Allie closed his book with a snap and took his place opposite his father. Mrs. Hart laid down her sewing and moved her chair nearer the table. But Carl did not move. Mr. Hart shuffled the cards. "Come, Carl, we 're waiting," he said. "I do n't think I '11 play whist any more," Carl said, quietly, without looking around from his desk. "Not play whist, Carlie?" his mother asked in sur- prise. "Why not?" "I 've been thinking that perhaps it is n't right for me to play," he replied. "Are you setting yourself up to judge your father and mother, young man?" Mr. Hart asked, some- what sternly. "No; I do n't say it is n't all right for you to play. But you know I am president of the Christian En- deavor Society, and some of the members do n't think it is right to play. So I guess I 'd better not." 20 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "Pish!" exclaimed Allie, "what do you care what they think ?" Carl flushed but did not reply. His father looked at him thoughtfully for a minute, then picked up the cards and threw them back into the drawer. "Carl," he said, "I want you to understand that I think you have done a manly thing to-night, and I honor you for your courage. Come now, let 's go to bed." But Carl's face was heavy and perplexed. "You did just right, Carlie," his mother said in a whisper as she bade him good-night. "I am glad that you were strong enough to do it." Slowly then his face brightened into its accus- tomed happy smile. "I am glad you think so," he said, simply. "I was afraid I had displeased you." Then, just as though nothing at all had happened, he turned back to his desk to finish liis Latin before he went to bed. There was no more evening- whist in the "den." Ill AMONG HIS MATES From the very first of his school life Carl was a favorite with his teachers, not because he was an exceptionally bright boy nor an exceptionally good boy, for he was neither, but because he was excep- tionally cheerful and manly. In the lower schools he was called "Little Sunshine," and though in the high school the name necessarily had slipped from his stalwart five feet nine, he still remained his teach- ers' sunshine. I have said that he was not an exceptionally bright boy. His lessons did not come to him without stren- uous effort, but they were rarely unprepared. Even his fondness for athletic sports did not detract from his dogged determination to push ahead in his school work. I remember going down on the train with him one ]\Ionday morning as he was on his way to school. He was puzzling his head over his ever-perplexing algebra. I offered to assist him. The lesson was a peculiarly difiicult one in factoring. We worked together for the few minutes occupied in travelling the two miles from the Reformatory to Concord, and by the time the train began to slow up I had indicated 22 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES on a slip of paper the method of solving perhaps a dozen of his problems. He thanked me heartily for my help, but I no- ticed that as he arose to leave the train he was quiet- ly crumpling my work in his hand. "What are you doing with that paper?" I asked, in surprise. "Are n't you going to keep it, so as to remember how to do them''" "No; I guess not," he replied. "I think I 'd rath- er forget your work, and dig them out myself." Just for a moment I was nettled, for I had really tried to help him, and it seemed that my work was going for nothing. "That 's the way to get the most out of the lesson, is n't it?" he asked, doubtfully. "I 'm so slow, you know, that I have to make every lesson count for all it 's worth." It was the simple declaration of a boy who in some way had learned his limitations, and had already be- gun the stern fight to overcome them. I looked at him with new interest and with an awakening ad- miration for his sturdy manhood. "Where did you get that idea?" I asked. "Who told you that?" "Nobody told me. I worked the thing out my- self. Isn't it right?" His face wore its heavy, perplexed look as though after all he were not quite sure of himself. "Yes, I think it 's right," I said. AMONG HIS MATES 23 As the train pulled out from the station I turned to watch him from the window. He had joined his mates and was laughing with them at some boyish prank of some one of their number. But as he laughed he quietly let a piece of crumpled paper fall from his hand to the ground. It is true, too, that Carl was not an exceptionally good boy in school. No one was more fond of healthy fun than he, and very often he was repri- manded for breaking some of the school rules. But he was conscious of his fun-loving nature and used to devise methods that he thought would help him behave. He had been in the high school but a few days when one recess he presented himself at the desk of his teacher. "May I sit in a seat nearer front?" he asked. "Why, Carl, what for?" she returned, in surprise. **You are so big I am afraid you would n't be com- fortable down there." "I guess I should be comfortable enough," he said, smiling. "I 've no business to be so big, anyway." "But why do you want to sit farther front?" the teacher insisted. "I thought you were having a good time w^here you are." "That 's just it. I 'm afraid I am having too good a time. I want to come down front where I can behave better." "But I have n't found any especial fault with your behavior, have I, Carl?" 24 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "No; you haven't. But I've found fault with myself, and I want to help myself do better." "Very well," she said, smiling up into the big, boy- ish face leaning over her desk. "You may change if you wish." But even the front seat could not entirely cure him of whispering, and it was not long after the change when he was kept after school in punishment for this misdemeanor. Not once during the time he was required to re- main in his seat did he lift his eyes from his book; and, when permitted to go, he left the room without looking at his teacher or saying his usual good-night. The next morning he passed her desk on his way to his seat without his customary cheery greeting, and the greeting was omitted the next day also, and the next. The teacher was hurt at this negligence, so un- usual in him, and she missed the real help of his cheerfulness. "W'liat is the matter with Carl ?" she asked of Allie who tliat year had a seat in the same room. "He has n't spoken to me for three da vs." "I guess he 's ashamed of himself," Allie replied. And sure enough, that was the matter. That afternoon the teacher called to him as he passed her desk and tactfully drew from him his confession. "I did not think I was worthy to speak to you," he said, with downcast eves. AMONG HIS MATES 25 Afterward, so long as Carl remained in school, morning and evening words of cheer and encourage- ment between teacher and pupil were never omitted. Among his schoolmates Carl had few personal friends and no intimate ones. He was too large and strong and manly to mingle with boys of his own age, and too natural and boyish to associate with those of his size. Yet by all his mates he was deeply re- spected, and by many of the smaller ones he was gratefully admired for his courageous championship of their rights. JNIany times before Carl enlisted in the war against Spain in behalf of the oppressed Cubans, he enlisted in private wars in behalf of oppressed companions. One day, as he was riding on his bicycle some dis- tance from home a small boy ran out from a little cot- tage, closely pursued by a much older and stronger boy. The larger one had overtaken the smaller and was beating him cruelly, when Carl leaped from his bicycle and seized him by the shoulder. "What do you mean by licking a little fellow like that?" he demanded, with flashing eyes and trembling lips, for his anger was thoroughly aroused. "None of your business," the boy replied, with an oath. "I '11 lick him all I want to. Leave me alone." "No you won't lick him, either. Let go of him. Let him go, I say." But in his effort to release the lad Carl forgot to 26 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES guard himself, and the bully, suddenly drawing- back, struck him square in the eye. The small boy was forgotten, and the fight was on. It lasted for about fifteen minutes. Then Carl had his man. "Promise me you '11 let the kid alone, or I won't let you up," he said, as he sat panting on his antago- nist's stomach. "Promise nothing," the boy retorted, with an ef- fort to wrench himself free. It was useless. Carl held both arms pinioned, and each struggle only increased the pressure of his relentless grip. The vanquished boy began to swear again. "Do n't do that," Carl said. "That won't do you any good. Promise to let the kid alone; that's what you 've got to do." Another useless struggle, a still greater increase of pressure on the pinioned arms, more swearing, and the whole operation repeated once again. Then came surrender. "I '11 promise," the boy said, weakly. "Then get up/' Carl commanded; and he stood with folded arms while the fellow picked himself up and slouched away. Carl carried a black eye home with him that night. "What have you been up to?" his father said when he saw it. "Fighting," he replied, shortly. AMONG HIS MATES 27 "Did you have good reasons?" his father asked. "Yes, sir, I think so," the boy replied. "Well, sometime when I 'm not so busy you may tell me about it," and his father turned away to his work. By so trusting his boys Mr. Hart had succeeded in making them trustworthy. If anything could anger Carl more quickly than the abuse of the weak by the strong, it was any ap- proach to vulgarity on the part of his companions. After he had enlisted, and only a few days before he left home, while walking with some young ladies of his acquaintance, they were accosted vulgarly by a street loafer. Carl let his companions pass on and stopped to speak to the man. "Do n't you ever say such a thing as that to any lady again," he demanded. "Who are you to teach me manners?" the fellow asked, with a sneer. "I '11 say what I d — n please to anybody, for all you." "You will, will you? Then take that — and that — and that." The blows came so thick and fast that self-protec- tion was impossible, and the sneak took to his heels. Carl rejoined his companions as calmly as though nothing had happened. The next day he met the fellow on the street. "Look here, ," he said, calling him by name, "I 'm going off pretty soon and I do n't want you to 28 '4 SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES have any ill-will over that affair of yesterday. It was a dirty thing you said, but I do n't have any hard feelings against you, and I do n't want you to have any against me. Shake hands." And so they clasped hands, the one with averted face and downcast eyes, the other with features trans- figured by Christian love and pity. IV "FOR CHRIST AND THE CHURCH" "Carl in his early boyhood was the biggest liar in the family," Mr. Hart remarked to me one day after the boys had gone to war. "Yes," he continued, in answer to my look of in- credulity; "up to the time that he was six years old he lied oftener than he told the truth. He lied without cause and without purpose. We tried everything to break him of the habit, moral suasion and corporal punishment, but nothing seemed of any avail. And then all of a sudden he stopped the habit himself. "I well remember the last lie he ever told me. He had been out playing with Allie and came in to din- ner with a great rent in the seat of his trousers. " 'You look well,' I said, jokingly. 'How did you do that ?' " 'Climbing over the fence,' he replied, looking me straight in the eye. "I made no more talk about it, and should have forgotten it altogether, had not Allie come in a few moments later, laughing. " 'Oh, you 'd ought 'a' seen Carl hung up in a tree,' he said. Carl gave him a nudge but Allie paid no attention. 29 30 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES " 'We were climbing a tree and Carl slipped and caught the seat of his pants on a broken limb, and all he could do was to hang there and squeal until I helped him down.' And Allie went off into another peal of laughter. "But Carl was sober. " 'What in the world do you mean,' I asked him, 'by telling me that yarn about the fence? Why can't you tell me the truth ?' "He hung his head and said nothing, and after dinner I took him out and thrashed him soundly." "Had you ever forbidden him to climb trees?" I asked. "Never. I encouraged it. I believe it 's good for boys to incur a little healthy danger once in a while. No, there was no earthly reason for the lie. He just told the first untruth that popped into his head, and it never occurred to him to tell the truth at all." "And that was the last one, you say?" "Yes. After that he became the very soul of truth. We used to watch him for a while, of course, and I investigated some of his stories, but I always found they were absolutely true. And I soon ceased doubting him. When he was seven, I would have taken his word against the world." "How do you account for the change?" I queried, thoughtfully. "I do n't account for it." he replied. "Conversion "FOR CHRIST AND THE CHURCH" 31 is one of the mysteries I have given up trying to solve." "You beHeve he was converted then, do you?" "Yes, just as surely as any one was ever con- verted." I think he was right. We cannot enter into the inner experience through which the boy passed at that early age. But we are sure that from that day to the end of his life, as he increased in wisdom and in stature, like the Saviour whom he had taken as his Master, he also increased "in favor with God and man." The summer before he was fifteen years old Carl was baptized and admitted into the church. It was a peaceful Sabbath afternoon in July when, with his pastor, he went down into the little lake near his home, to receive the solemn rite that meant so much to him. But as he returned to the shore a greater peace than the peace of the holy Sabbath shone upon his face. He had manfully made the public profession of his faith in Christ which he had felt it his duty to make, and "the peace of God which passeth all understanding" had entered his heart and filled it. The scene was an unusually impressive one. The Sabbath peace, the summer stillness intensified by the hum of myriads of insects and the twittering of countless birds, the quiet water reflecting from its bosom the deep blue sky, — that was the background 32 ^ SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES of the picture. The central figure was the tall, manly youth, with the light of a new joy shining in his face and with the determination of a new purpose manifested in his step, facing that day the new duties and responsibilities of a professed follower of Jesus Christ. The first to greet him as he reached the shore was his father. The strong man's eyes were wet with tears, and he took his big boy tenderly in his arms and kissed him. Carl's Christian life was as much a part of him- self as was his athletic life. He could no more be affected in the service of his Master than he could be affected on the football field. With him. to accept Christ's leadership meant to serve Christ with all the natural activity of his vigorous nature. It was not, therefore, surprising that he very early became an active member of the Young People's So- ciety of Christian Endeavor connected with his church. Nor was it surprising that his associates should soon recognize the value of his Christian work, and make him president of their society. This honor carried with it many public duties sel- dom undertaken by boys of fifteen. For example, at a public meeting of the Society held in the church, he sat with the pastor in the pulpit and was asked to offer prayer. Carl hesitated not a moment. Long before he had copied into his note-book, as one of his lite mottoes, the v/ords of Dr. Martincau. "Xo "FOR CHRIST AND THE CHURCH" 33 man can be either a great man or a Christian who cannot do what he ought to do, when he ought, and whether he wants to do it or not." He was a Chris- tian, and to make the pubHc prayer was then and there his duty. So, in that crowded church, before so many older Christians, he prayed naturally and boyishly that God would bless the Christian En- deavor Society and make all its members active in the service of their Master. Carl's testimonies at the meetings of the society were never deeply studied homilies on the subject of the meeting. They were rather the natural ex- pression of his own experiences and feelings. "When I was playing football the other day," he said one night in a consecration meeting which he was leading, "I 'caught on' to the signals of the other team. I knew they were going to try to break through our left end, before they started, and the temptation came to me to give the fellows the tip. Then I thought that that would be taking an unfair advantage of what I had learned by accident. I do n't believe Jesus would have played football that way. and I am glad he kept me from yielding to the temptation. I find that when I stop to think what Jesus would do, I usually come out all right." At another time, the subject of the meeting, led by one of the older members, was "Temperance." The leader urged the need of temperance in words as well as in deeds, declaring that the temptation of most Cbr— 3 34 '-i SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES Christian Endeavorers was not so much that of drinking intemperately as of speaking intemperately. This was Carl's testimony : "I am glad that our leader has spoken about in- temperate speaking. I think the hardest part of the Christian life is to rule one's tongue. It was only yesterday that I felt like calling a fellow a liar, and I should have done it, too, if I had n't thought just in time of the proverb, 'He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that taketh a city.' I have to keep fighting my quick temper all the time, but it pays." In the prayer-meetings of the church, too, Carl almost always bore his testimony, and his earnest, simple words have many times inspired older Chris- tians to a more noble Christian life. On one occasion a church member, unconsciously to himself, had let a little of the bitterness of criti- cism creep into his testimony. His words had seemed to others more harsh than he had intended, and wlien he took his seat a hush settled over the gathering, a hush which meant death to the spiritual profit of the meeting. \\'hile the pastor was trying to think of some words that might save the meeting, Carl arose quietly to his feet. "I did n't think we came to meeting to find fault," he said, simply. "It seems to me the prayer-meeting ought to be for us to get good in. I am sure I come because I need strength to fight the battles of life, and it does me good to hear the prayers and sing the "FOR CHRIST AND THE CHURCH" 35 hymns. I want you all to pray for me that I may always stand firm to my principles and never go back on my chosen Master." The meeting was saved. It became customary in the West Concord Chris- tian Endeavor Society for those who wished to go to the vestry a few minutes before the service and to kneel together in one of the primary rooms to ask God's blessing upon the meeting. Sometimes there would be eight or ten present at these early meetings, and at other times only two or three. Once only one was there. The pastor was to lead the meeting that evening and, though he had planned to go in time for the early prayer, he was detained. It lacked only a few moments of the hour for opening the regular service when he stepped into the primary room. Some one was praying aloud and he stopped in the doorway with bowed head until the prayer should close. "Dear Father, bless him who shall lead the meet- ing to-night," the petition ran, "and may he say the right words to us. May we all do our part to make it a good meeting and may we serve thee faithfully so long as we shall live. For Christ's sake, amen." The minister lifted his head and looked about him. Only one person was in the room. The president of the society had been praying alone. Not by any means content with his public service in the prayer-room, Carl in all his daily activity 36 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES never forgot that he was president of the Christian Endeavor Society. He felt that in a measure he was responsible for the Christian development of the members of his society, and he was continually devis- ing plans to bring them to a higher plane of Christian living. There lies before me as I write a copy of his Easter greeting to the members of the society, the last Eas- ter greeting of his short, full life. It is a card folder, bearing on the front cover the motto "For Christ and the Church,'' and on the back cover the inscription, "Easter Greeting from President Charles A. Hart, West Concord Union Church Christian Endeavor." Inside the folder there is this "Easter Prayer,'' — "That I may know Him. and the Power of His Resurrection." Phil. 3 : 10. Then there follows this hvmn from Frances Ridley Havergal, "Oh. let me know The power of thy resurrection ; Oh. let me show Thy Risen life in calm and clear reflection; Oh, let me soar Where thou, my Saviour Christ, art gone before, In mind and heart Let me dwell always, only, where thou art. Oh, let me give Out of the gifts thou freely givest; Oh, let me live With life abundantly because thou livest; Oh, make me shine In darkest places, for thy light is mine : Oh, let me sing For very joy because thou art my King." That was his daily prayer, the prayer which in- spired every action of his life, the prayer which now is answered in all its fulness. V CAMPING AND TRAMPING Diirin.^ the long summer vacations the Hart boys lived for the most part out-of-doors. There were all sorts of open-air games for the younger boys at home; and for the older ones there were bicycling and fishing- and hunting and camping-out expedi- tions with other boys in the neighborhood. Sometimes the pastor of the West Concord church, who had learned how to win boys, would invite some of the younger members of his church and congrega- tion to a week's outing, perhaps in the western part of Massachusetts, or it might be among the moun- tains of New Hampshire. Usually these trips would be made a-wheel, each wheelman carrying his part of the camp outfit strapped to his handle-bars. Allie and Carl were always included in these com- panies. The second day out on the '97 trip dawned dark and threatening. "Shall we strike camp and go on?" the minister asked, as they ate their canned beef and drank their coffee, "or shall we make all snug here and wait for a more pleasant day?" "I say let 's stay here," replied Frank Jones, quick- ly. 'T think we are going to have a hard rain." Z7 38 A SOLDIER LY TWO ARMIES "Does your rheumatism bother you?" Carl asked, with a twinkle in his eye. "You do n't believe I 've got the rheumatism, do you?" Frank retorted. "I have, — right there," and he put both hands on his bicycle muscles. Everybody laughed. They were all afflicted with that kind of rheumatism the second morning of the trip out. The minister repeated his question, "Shall we stay here, then, or go on?" "Oh, let 's go on," Allie said. "We do n't want to mope here all day. I do n't believe it 's going to rain. My rheumatism is all right." "Yes," added Carl, "let 's go. We want to push through what we've laid out to do this trip; and there may come a day before the week 's through when we *11 have to lie over." "I think you 're right," the minister said. "So long as it does n't actually rain, I think we 'd better push on. Come on, pack up." The rain kept ofif until after the noon rest. In- deed, the party were within eight miles of the place planned for the next night's camp when the first warning drops began to fall. "Ain't you glad now you took my advice?" Allie was saying, when a big drop plumped him on the nose. "Let 's pull up here,'' suggested Frank. "Pish !" sneered Carl, "what 's the use of giving up CAMPING AND TRAMPING 39 for one drop of rain ? We '11 be at camp in less than an hour, anyway." He bent over his handle-bars and began to "scorch" ahead, the rest following his example. "Come on," he shouted, as he went out of sight around a curve in the road. "Good going ahead." The gentle whirr of his wheels as he pedaled rap- idly forward was mingled with the increasing patter of the rain on the leaves above his head; and in the exhilaration of his strong young life he gave a boyish whoop of delight. Hardly had the echo of his voice died out in the woods around him when there sounded a report like that of a pistol, — and his front tire lay flat and useless. "What's the matter?" the minister asked, as he overtook him. Carl looked up from his examination of the dis- abled wheel and pointed silently to a crack in the tire nearly two inches long. "Had it blown up too hard and it busted," he said. "Looks as though I should have to walk." "It does look that way, that 's a fact," the minister replied, laughing at Carl's rueful face. "Well, we '11 send the rest ahead and I '11 stay behind and jog along with you." "No, you won't, either," Carl declared, emphatic- ally. "You go on with the rest. It 's raining harder every minute, and there 's no need for both of us to get drenched." 40 ^^ SOLDIER L\ TWO ARMIES So after a little parley the rest of the party pushed on and left him to walk alone. "Now, do n't you wish you had voted to stay where we were this morning?" sang out his companions as Carl, drenched to the skin, joined the party around the camp-fire nearly two hours later. "No, sir, not a bit of it," he declared. "\\'e are where we planned to be to-night and a little wetting doesn't count. Where's your drinking-water?" "Frank kicked over the pail and spilled it," Allie said. "Why don't he get some more, then?" "Rheumatism bothers him." Allie said, laughing. "No, it ain't the rheumatism, either," Frank de- clared. "I 'd get the water if it was my turn, but it ain't." "Whose turn is it, then?" demanded another of the party. "It 's yours, and you know it." "Not by a long shot. Fve got v.-ater since Allie has, anyway." "If you 're waiting for me, it will be a long time before you get anything to drink." Allie said. "I do n't propose to lug water in this rain, I can tell you that. The fellow that kicked it over ought to get it, I say." The boys were all as tired and cross as only boys on a wet night in camp can be, and the dispute bade fair to end in a real quarrel. Carl looked at them CAMPING AND TRAMPING 41 for a moment as they lay stretched out comfortably before the crackling fire; then he quietly picked up the pail and started out towards the spring. A minute afterwards the minister came up with a fresh armful of wood. "Hasn't Carl shown up yet?" he asked, looking out into the gathering darkness a little uneasily. "Yes," Allie replied. "But he 's gone after a pail of water." "Seems to me he 's had hard enough work this afternoon without lugging water for you lazy fel- lows," the minister said, reproachfully. No one made reply. When they were not away from home on long camping expeditions sometimes the boys would spend the night in a tent on an island in the lake. One summer evening Carl invited a theological student of my acquaintance to go out to the island to spend the night. This is the way the student after- wards told me of his adventure : "We walked about a quarter of a mile through the bushes before we came to the lake. Carl was going ahead to show me the foot-path. Suddenly he stop- ped and emitted a low, long whistle. " 'What 's the matter ?' I cried. " 'Cracky ! That boat ain't here. Some of the fellows must have gone over already.' " 'Then we might as w^ell turn round and go back,' I said, with some alacritv, for already the mosquitos 42 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES had begun to bite, and I was not enthusiastic over the prospect of a night in an open tent. " *Oh, no,' Carl said. 'No need of that.' "And to my astonishment he began to undress. " 'What are you going to do?' I asked, in some alarm. " 'Swim it,' he said, shortly. " 'Can't you swim?' he asked, after a while, no- ticing that I did not follow his example. " 'A little," I replied, looking doubtfully at the water already beginning to look dark and threaten- ing in the settling gloom. "Assured that I could swim, he gave me no further thought. He finished his undressing with remark- able rapidity, rolled his clothes into a bundle and tied them together with a string from his pocket. Then, holding the bundle out of the water with one hand, he plunged in." "And what did you do?" I asked, laughing at the student's predicament. "I — well, I did n't just like the idea of being stumped by a boy, so I undressed and went in after him. And we had a jolly night of it, too." During the summer before the war Allie and Carl, with their mother, made a long visit at the home of their grandparents. While there, a frequent com- panion of Carl's hunting and fishing trips was a boy who for some reason was not a general favorite in the neighborhood. This boy was so unlike Carl that one dav his mother said ti^ him. CAMPING AND TRAMPING 43 "Carlie, what makes you go with Tom so much? Do you like him?" "Oh, Tom is all right," he replied, rather evasively. "Is it just because he likes to hunt and fish that you go with him ?" she asked. "It 's partly that," he replied. "But is n't he coarse? And does n't he sometimes swear, Carlie?" "Not very often when he 's with me." he an- swered. "But what makes you go with him?" she in- sisted. "Why do n't you tell me?" He did not reply immediately, and she, knowing his ways, waited patiently. By and by he said quietly, without looking up, "Mamma, Tom does n't have many friends; and I was thinking, too, that perhaps I might get him to join the Christian Endeavor Society. Do n't you think it would be nice if he would?" "Indeed I do," she replied, softly; and a tear glistened in her eye. During all that evening Carl was unusually quiet and thoughtful. "What is the matter to-night?" his mother asked, as she kissed him good-night. "Mamma, you do n't think it is wrong for me to go with Tom, do you?" he asked, doubtfully. "No," she replied. "I think it is right." "And you won't be afraid that he will get me into bad habits?" 44 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "No, I hope rather that you wih lead him into good habits." "Then I think I will go around to-morrow and see if he wants to go fishing with me Saturday," he said. Then he ran up-stairs to his room two steps at a time, and in the exuberance of the thought that he was approved he began to bang Allie over the head with a pillow. VI QUIET WALKS AND TALKS Carl was accustomed to hide the most precious of his boyish treasures in a certain secluded nook in the woods near his home. The treasure is still there in the hole which he had dug at the foot of a big- pine. The hole is still covered with the same flat stone which he placed over it, the stone in turn carefully concealed with loose dirt and pine needles. The spot is known only to his parents and to one other friend much older than himself with whom he was often confidential. He invited this friend to visit the nook one Sat- urday afternoon when they were out walking to- gether. After he had gleefully removed the stone and had exhibited his collection — some empty cartridges, a broken revolver, a big clasp-knife and a little worn Testament — they sat down by the brookside to talk. "How did you happen to find this beautiful spot, Carl ?" his friend asked, as she carelessly roiled the water with a stick. "Do n't do that !" he exclaimed, quickly. "Do n't do what?" "Do n't muddv mv brook." 45 46 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "Why, the brook does n't care/' she said, laugh- ing. "Yes, it does, too. It Hkes to be clear and pure all the time. Do you know what this brook always makes me think of?" "No, what?" "It makes me think of the way our hearts ought to be, pure and clean." She was silent a minute, watching the water un- til it became perfectly clear again. "But when our hearts become muddy, Carl," she said, "it 's much harder for us to cleanse them than it is for the current to cleanse the brook." "Yes, that 's so," he acquiesced. "The only way we can keep them clean is to keep fighting all the time. Do you remember something you told me two or three years ago?" "I suppose I told you a good many things. I re- member we used to have many long talks. To what do you refer?" "One day you told me that you thought I had a weak chin." "Nonsense, Carl, I do n't believe that I ever said that." "Yes, you did. One day when wc were walking home from Sunday-school." "I must have been joking, then," she said. "I am sure I never thought you had a weak chin." "Well. I 'm glad you told me so, anvwav," he de- clared. QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 47 "Why?" "Because it helped me to control myself. I thought if I was naturally weak that I 'd have to fight hard to keep straight. So the thought has helped me fight." "Why, what a boy you are !" she exclaimed. "What things do you have to fight, I wonder?" "My temper, most of all. You do n't know what a terrible temper I have when it gets started. And sometimes I have to fight the temptation to smoke." "To smoke, Carl?" "Yes. I never did smoke in my life, but some- times I want to. I 'm glad I do n't have lots of spending-money. If I did, I 'm afraid I should smoke in spite of myself." "Then I 'm glad for you that you have n't the money," she said. After that they read together a chapter from the worn Testament. The treasures were again care- fully hidden; and they left the quiet spot in the woods to the possession of the brook and of the birds. Not very long before Carl's enlistment he invited this same friend to a canoe-ride on the river. It was a quiet May day and the budding foliage was perfectly reflected in the still water as they glided swiftly on. "Is n't it a beautiful world !" she exclaimed. "Yes," he replied. "I wonder what makes it so?" 48 ^^ SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "Why, 1 suppose God makes it so because he loves us." He paddled in silence for some time and then he said, slowly, "Do you know that sometimes I 'm afraid that there is n't any God ?" "Why, Carl, that does n't sound like you at all. I did not know that you had any doubts like that." "Sometimes I have them pretty bad," he said. "But I fight them, and most always I get the better of them. But, after all, how do we know that there is a God?" "We do n't know it so exactly as we know some things. V\Q have never seen him, but we see signs of him every day. And I think it is best for us to look at the signs. It 's only by keeping our eyes fixed on what light we have that we can ever get any more light. Now, this beautiful world seems to me one of the signs of God. And when we think of its beauty and of its adaptability to our enjoy- ment, we cannot help thinking of the God of love." "Yes, and there are other signs, too," he said, resting his paddle in mid-air. "There is the love of our friends. If we have friends to love us, then it 's easy to believe that there is a God to love us. But sometimes I doubt even my friends. I want the absolute proof of their love and of God's love." "Yes, I know. That 's the way with most of us. Instead of turning our eyes towards what imperfect QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 49 light we ha\'e, we turn them away and ask for the perfect light." "That 's a good thought," he declared. "To keep our eyes towards what light we have. I 'm going to remember that.'' He dipped his paddle again into the water, and for several minutes they sped down the river in si- lence. Carl finally broke the stillness with a hearty boyish laugh. "\Miy, you almost startled me!" his friend ex- claimed. "'^^llat made you laugh like that?" 'T was thinking of what big fools we must seem to God," he said. On pleasant Sunday afternoons, when the deputy's business permitted he used to take some of his family to ride or to walk. When walking the boys usually in play disputed with each other for the privilege of walking next to their mother. But Carl for the most part was content to wait. And when the younger boys had romped on ahead, and when Allie had begun to argue matters of State impor- tance with his father, then he would walk by her side and have a long, quiet talk. She would tell him some incident of his babyhood, perhaps, or it maybe they would talk together of the days of his coming manhood. One afternoon their attention had been called to a large bed of brilliant sunflowers in a garden they were passing. Chr— 4 ^O A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "You and Allie used to sing to sunflowers when you were little boys," she said. "Sing to sunflowers?" he asked, with interest. "Yes. One day when I wanted you to come to dinner, I found you in the garden standing hand-in- hand before some sunflowers; and you were look- ing up at them and singing as loudly as you could." "What kind of a tune was it?" "I do n't think there was much tune to it. It was some kind of a rigmarole that I could n't make out at all. But it was just as much a song to you." "Now, what do you suppose made us do that?" "I "m sure I do n't know. Perhaps you thought the sunflowers were beautiful and you were praising them for their beauty. You boys used to do lots of queer things, anyway." "And we do now sometimes, do n't we?" he asked, laughingly. "Yes. Once in a while. And that makes me think, Carlie, of a queer thing you did last winter. I 've wanted to ask you about it for a good while, but I have n't thought of it when there was a chance. You remember your father gave each of you boys two dollars to spend for Christmas presents?" "Yes." "And the presents you bought were very cheap ones. I do n't think they could have cost more than seventy-five cents all together." "Thev did n't cost but sixtv-five cents." QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 51 "Yes. And your father asked you what you had done with the rest of your money, and you said you did n't want to tell him. Do you remember?" "Yes, and I remember that father thought I was stingy, too." "Perhaps so. Anyway, we both thought it was very queer. Do you mind telling me now what you did with the money?" He walked on silently for a few moments, striking the bushes viciously with his stick. "I bought a Bible for Fred Phillips," he said, after a while. "What made you do that ?" "He did n't have a good Bible and I thought he needed one more than you and the boys needed more expensive presents. Do n't you think that was right?" "Why, yes, I guess so. But why did n't you tell your father of it when he asked you?" "Because Fred was ashamed not to be able to buy the Bible for himself, and he would n't take mine until I had promised that I would n't tell anybody I had given it to him." "But you are telling me now," she said. "I know it. And I do n't know whether it 's just right to or not. But since Fred has moved to Bos- ton I felt that it could n't make any difference to him. Do you suppose he would care if he knew?" "No, I guess not," she replied, smiling. 52 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "Say, mamma, Mr. Campbell told me to-day that Fred had joined the church. Isn't that good news ?" "Yes, indeed, it is. Perhaps your giving him the Bible helped him to do it, too. Carlie. when you get to be a man do you suppose you will always be so careless of how others may misunderstand you?" "I 'm not careless of that now," he declared. "The desire to be popular is one of the things I have to fight against all the time." "But you did n't seem to care that your father thought you stingy." "I did care, though," he said. "I cared a good deal more than you thought I did. But I did n't see how I could help it and keep my promise to Fred. So I tried not to think about it." "Well, when you get to be a man are you going to be so careful to keep your promises even when it hurts you?" "1 do n't know." he replied, sadly. "I 'm not al- ways sure of myself. Perhaps it will depend some on what business I go into. Do you think I ought to decide pretty soon what I am going to be, mamma "No, I do n't believe I should hurry about that. Perhaps you can decide better when you are a little older. But I should decide one thing now if I were you. "What's that?" QUIET WALKS AND TALKS 53 "I should decide that no matter what my business or profession might be, I should always do what was right, no matter what it cost." ''That 's what I mean to do now," he said, "But I can't feel sure of myself enough to make such a resolution for all my life. Do you suppose I could keep it?" "I think God could help you keep it," she said, "Yes. of course he could!" he exclaimed. "Some- times I forget about God and think I have to fight all alone. Well, mamma, here I promise you this : With God's help I will always be honest and true to my Christian principles." Just then the younger boys ran up to show their mother a butterfly they had captured. VII THE ENLISTMENT When in the spring of 1898 rumors of war spread over the country, the patriotism of Concord burst at once into fever-heat. The town had been made fa- mous by the battle of 1776. It had sent a large quota of volunteers to the war of 1861. So, to the boys of 1898, sons of veterans and grandsons of veterans, there was no thought of staying at home. "Why ought I to enlist?" was a question hardly any young man of Concord considered. The questions were rather, "What arrangements must I make for going? In whose hands shall I leave my business? Under whose protection my family?" To the younger boys of the high school the great question of the day, which eclipsed everything else, was, "How can I get my parents' consent ?" When a call for volunteers had actuallv Ijeen is- sued by the President, the work of the Concord high school might almost as well have been suspended. Before school and after school and all through the recesses the older boys in groups discussed each other's prospects of going to Cuba, the smaller boys listening with envy and the girls with admiration. "The President 's done it, pa !" Allie shouted, as he 54 THE ENLISTMENT 55 burst into the "den" on the afternoon of April 24. "So I have seen in the papers," his father repHed, drily, without looking up from his work. I f Allie had been closely observant he would have noted a certain nervous repression in his father's tone, but he was too excited to perceive it. "Carl and I want to go," he continued, throwing himself in a chair opposite his father. Mr. Hart arose and walked to the window where he stood for some time looking out at the dreary brick walls of the Reformatory. Finally he said, without turning around, "Where's Carl? Bring him here." Carl had gone to his mother. Allie found him in the sewing-room and brought him into the "den." "And so you want to go to Cuba to fight the Spaniards, do you?" Mr. Hart asked, turning from the window. "I think I ought to go," Carl replied. "I 've been thinking about it for some time. I am young and strong and nobody at home needs me." "Yes, you 're young enough," his father said, — "too young. They would n't take you." "Oh, that could be fixed all right," Allie broke in, eagerly. "He could go as a musician if he could n't get in any other way. And then, after he was once in, he could fight with the rest. You know they 'd take him just as well as I do." Yes, Mr. Hart did know it, and he turned his face to the window again. ^6 -^ SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "Can we go?" Allie demanded, impatiently. "I '11 have to think it over a while," his father said. "I 'm glad you want to go. I thought you would. But I '11 have to talk it over v.ith your mother. I '11 let you know what we decide in the morning." The boys went from the "den" directly to the sewing-room. jMrs. Hart looked up from her work, and when she saw Allie's flushed, eager face and Carl's expression of quiet determination, a pained look came for a moment into her eyes, but she brave- ly conquered it. "You need n't say what you want," she said, lay- ing down her work and putting one hand on the shoulder of each. "I think I know. Your father and I have already been talking about it, and I think you can trust us to decide for the best. Now go aw^ay, please. I cannot talk about it ngw." That evening, long after the younger boys were in bed, even after Allie and Carl had ceased their ex- cited conversation and had at last fallen asleep, Mr. and Mrs. Hart sat in the "den" and faced the problem so many parents faced that spring — the problem wherein parental love and patriotic duty were struggling for ascendency. "Not at' this first call," Mr. Hart said to the boys in the morning. "Allie is n't over strong, and Carl is n't very old. There will l)e plenty of men more fitted for the service than you to answer this call. But we believe the cause is a just one. and, as I told THE ENLISTMENT 57 you yesterday, we are glad that you want to go ; and if the country should need more men by and by, then you may both try to pass the examination." So it happened that the tv/o boys were forced to look on with long faces while Company I of Concord was organizing and drilling-. They saw many of their companions march away to the state camp at South Framingham, and soon they heard that the Sixth had been ordered to Camp Alger. Still there came no second call. But early in June recruiting officers were sent north with instructions to enlist more men. Thirty-two men were needed for each company. And all too soon Captain Cook of Company I, who had been appointed one of the recruiting officers, called for more volunteers from Concord. That was a sad day and a glad day to the different members of the Hart family. When Mrs. Hart learned that the recruits had been called for, she hur- ried to her room alone. A little later she came out with a face calm and brave, but with a heart almost breaking with anxiety. Mr. Hart said not a word, but the lines of his face deepened. Allie was hila- riously exultant. Carl was subdued and sober. On the afternoon of June ly the boys went with their father to the recruiting station. Carl passed the examination successfully, as all who knew him expected him to do. It is safe to as- sert that no young man in his company entered the ^8 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES service of his country with a better physical equip- ment than did he. He was five feet nine inches in height. He weighed one hundred and seventy pounds. He had never been seriously ill, and his body was hardened and toughened by the healthy outdoor life and the athletic sports in which he de- lighted. But Allie was not at first so successful. Not only was he lacking in Carl's superb physique, but he was manifestly nervous, and on the first test of his eyes he failed. "Come in here a minute, Air. Hart," Captain Cook said to him. "Now if you v.'ant me to," he continued, when they were in the private room by themselves," I can re- fuse both of your boys, — Carl on the age limit, and Allie on his eyesight. If you do n't want them to go, just say the word and I '11 send them back home." "Captain Cook," Mr. Hart replied, "I do n't treat my boys that way. I told them they could go on the second call, if they could pass the examination, and so they can. There is no reason why I should not give my boys to the service of their country. No, I want you to pass them if they ought to be passed. Pass them both if you can. I do n't want one of them t(» go away alone. Allie was nervous just now. Give him another trial on his eyes and he will come out all right." "Just as you say," the captain replied, and I think THE ENLISTMENT 59 he must have looked at his companion with admira- tion. While the captain had been out of the room, Allie had been occupying himself diligently in reading the letters across the room. At the second trial he passed the test all right. So both boys were enrolled. On the way home x\llie could hardly contain him- self. He was a soldier of the Sixth. He was go- ing to see new lands and to fight for his country. But Carl was unusually sober. He, too, was a soldier of the Sixth, and as such he was going out to do his duty. The next day Carl took part in a baseball game in the village. It had been rumored around town that the Hart boys had enlisted, but Carl made no talk about it. He played his part in the game as vig- orously and as quietly as he always played. The pastor of his church was present, and while Carl's side was at the bat he threw himself on the ground beside him. "Is it true that you and Allie have enlisted?" he asked. "Yes," he replied. Something in the quiet tone struck the attention of another bystander. "Do n't you want to go?" he exclaimed. "If I did n't want to, 't is n't likely I should have enlisted, is it?" Carl retorted, as he took his position at the bat. 6o A SOLDIER IN TPVO ARMIES But to his friend and teacher, who he felt would understand him, he was more frank. He was very sober as he told her that he had passed his examina- tion successfully and was soon going to join the regiment at Camp Alger. "I shall not see very much of you for a good wdiile," he said, sadly. "We won't think of that," she replied. ''You '11 be coming back soon with all the glory of a hero. You want to go, do n't you?" "No," he said. "I do n't believe I do." "Then what made you enlist?" she asked. "I think I ought to go. Here I am, a great, strapping fellow with nothing to do in the world, and nobody dependent on me. And the country needs men. I think I ought to go, do n't you?" "You know best about that," she replied. "It is something which you must decide for yourself." "I have decided to go," he said, quietly. VIII LAST DAYS AT HO^IE The days following the boys' enlistment were busy ones for all. ]\Ierci fully, tliere was much to do, and outwardly in the family the days were passed as other days had been passed, in work and in play and in genial companionship. But the calmness of out- ward demeanor and the pitiful attempts at the usual family jollity were many times paid for by the lonely heartaches of long and sleepless nights. Short visits to relatives and friends out of town and innumerable calls upon friends and acquaintances in town kept the two boys away from home during many of those last hours; and that was best for them all. Among their visits was one made at the summer home of the friend to whom Carl had shown his treasures in the wood. The day was spent in quiet rambles on the beach and in an uneventful sail upon the water. When evening came thev were still out-of-doors, watching the night cover the restlessness of the ocean, and comparing men's lights on the sea with God's lights in the heavens. "If the sailors did not know how to get their bear- ings from the stars, lighthouses would n't always help them, would they?" Carl remarked. 6i 62 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "Pshaw !" exclaimed Allie. "Sailors do n't bother much about the stars now that they have their com- passes." "I think, however, that they are accustomed to compare the reading of the heavens with the reading of their charts and compasses," their friend sug- gested. "At least, I have been told so, and I like to think that God by his heavenly beacons is leading men into safety." "Yes, but it takes the lighthouses all the same," Allie declared. "Man has to direct himself in this world, for all I can see." "Indeed, he does," she replied, "and the world would not be worth living in, if he did n't." "See that revolving light," Carl said. "A red flash and then after a while a yellow flash. I should think the sailors would have to keep a pretty close watch for that. It is dark for a longer time than it gives light." "I suppose they often have to keep their eyes on the place where the light ought to be. before they can find it," his friend added. "That 's what I 've got to do during the days to come," Carl declared. "Just as the sailors keep their eyes fixed on that light, I 've got to keep my eyes fixed on Christ." Then without any warning he started off on the run. Several times he ran back and forth on the beach in front of the others as they still talked; until LAST DAYS AT HOME 63 at last, panting for breath, he came back and threw himself down beside them. "I had to exercise a little," he explained. "I have n't done much of anything all day, and I came near getting blue." On the very last evening at home, when every mo- ment of his time was most precious to him, Carl, with other members of the Christian Endeavor Society, met at the home of one of their number for a season of prayer. He had requested this meeting himself, feeling the need of all the strength which it would bring for the duties before him. Only a few of his most intimate friends wxre present, and a deep solemnity fell upon them all as they knelt together in the presence of their heavenly Father. Led by their pastor, each one present offered peti- tion to God for the young soldier so soon to go away from them. And last of all Carl prayed for him- self. He prayed that he might be kept from yielding to temptation; that he might not be lacking in courage; and that he might bring no discredit upon his friends and his town. But the burden of his prayer was for those at home. He asked that his father and mother might not feel his going away too severely; and that God in his infinite mercy would watch over them and preserve them in his absence. On the afternoon of the next day Mr. Hart drove his two oldest sons to the town armory, there to give 64 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES them up to the service of their country. As many of the younger boys as could pile into the two-seated carryall went with them. But the mother said her good-bye at home. A crowd of tovrnspeople had gathered at the armory steps to bid farewell to these recruits, just as a few weeks before they had gathered to perform the same service for the company these were going to join. And, as then it had seemed fitting to the town to make public speeches to the young soldiers going away, so now men prominent in the town's administration were present to bid them Godspeed in the name of the town. Drawn up "at attention" before the steps which served as the orators' rostrum, the thirty-two recruits listened to the admonitions of the town fathers. They were told of the honorable history of the town, and that the prowess of their ancestors had now fallen as a mantle upon their shoulders. And they were charged to acquit themselves like men worthy of so noble a heritage. The hearts of the recruits swelled with pride as they listened, and to each one there came anew the fervent desire for opportunity to bring glory upon himself and to his town. Meanwhile, the friends of the young soldiers looked at them from afar and waited in the vain hope of further conversation with their sons and brothers whom perhaps they would never see again. But war is war, and when the call to arms lia^ disturbed LAST DAYS AT HOME 65 the country's peace, then quiet words of homely love must ever give place to the more resounding phrases of patriotism. Through the oratory and cheers of their towns- men, Allie and Carl stood side by side, Allie's face flushed and nervous, Carl's wearing the same ex- pression of unmoved determination it had worn since his enlistment. The exercises at the armory were concluded at last, and the soldiers were marched to the station. Here they were allowed to break ranks. But the train was already in sight, and all was confusion. The most of those going away were excitedly rushing from one friend to another saying last words of fare- well, in some cases carelessly and even flippantly. But Carl seemed to have plenty of time. His words to his friends were few indeed, but his manner was composed and thoughtful, and his hand-pressures were long and lingering. "All aboard!" Thus were the last good-byes rudely interrupted, and men and boys began jostling each other in their haste to board the train. A few furtively wiped tears from their eyes; but for the most part they were laughing loudly at pointless jokes. The engine puffed and panted, and the train thun- dered on, carrying with it the hopes and the prayers of friends left behind. Carl was one of the last to step on the train, and Chr— 5 66 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES SO long as the train was in sight he stood on the rear platform waving a flag. The sun shone full upon him as he stood there, and from the lapel of his army coat there flashed the button of the Christian En- deavorer. IX ROUGH EXPERIENCES Much of our knowledge of Carl's life after he left his home has been derived from his own letters to parents and friends. The first note was penciled to his father before the train reached Boston. "Dear Father: 1 have started to write this after we passed Cam- bridge, and the car is so joggly that it wriggles my arm awfully. I have had to ride all the way with a man half-seas-over, in the same seat in the smoking- car. We are all right. Everybody seems in good spirits. C. A. H." Less than an hour from home, but already in his disagreeable surroundings the journey had begun to seem long and tedious. Later in the same day he scribbled a note to his mother. "7.15 on the train. "Dear Mamma : All right ! Remembering that to-morrow night is consecration meeting at the C. E., I thought that I would send my verse to be read. Will you please ask W to read the 141st Psalm. C. A. H. P. S. Just arrived at Worcester." 67 68 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES From Albany he wrote once more, dating his let- ter 1.30 A. M. on Sunday morning, June 26, and tell- insf them of his safe arrival at the end of the first stage of his journey. In a later letter to a friend he tells of the whole journey more in detail : — ''When we got to Albany at 11.00 p. m.," he wrote, "we marched to a train where we had to stay until the train started at 3.15. We had gone but twenty-three miles when we were side-tracked and had to wait three hours. After we left the side track the ride was very interesting, on the west shore of the Hudson. We passed the wonderful bridge at Poughkeepsie, and went through West Point and came to New York. There we saw the great Lib- erty Statue in the harbor. "We went to Jersey City, and wc were told that we could get out and get some dinner. They played a mean trick on us and only gave us fifteen minutes for dinner, and they said we might have thirty, and we had to go off without paying, some of us. We left there about twelve o'clock on the Baltimore and Ohio. We passed through Baltimore but did not stop. \\1ien we got to Washington we were al- lowed to go about for half an hour; then we took the train for Dun Loring, where Lieutenant Hart met us with teams and carried us to Camp Alger. Here our quarters were assigned, and after eating supper we turned in for the night. We had at last reached our destination." ROUGH EXPERIENCES 69 The first letter from Camp Alger written to his parents was dated Monday evening, June 27. "This is the third time that I have tried to write to you to-day, and now I am in the Y. M. C. A. tent, writing. I will tell you our day's programme. This morning reveille sounded at 4.15, extra early because the company had to go a two days' march. We had time to wash up and clean up the tents and roll up the blankets; then came the call to breakfast. After eating breakfast we had a few leisure moments and I sat down to write you a letter. B D lent me some paper, but I had just written about ten lines when the order came, 'Police,' which means clean up the company street. ''After that was done I was ordered to report to the commissary to get canteen and shelter tent, but Lieut. Hart came along looking for a detail to go with a baggage-wagon to Dun Loring. I made myself prominent and was taken in the detail, which consisted of seven men. We went down about 8 o'clock and we had to wait around until 12 o'clock to get the freight. We got back to camp about i o'clock, but I was then sent looking for dinner, which consisted of milk and bread for me. Then I was sent to the commissary to get my canteen and shelter tent and to be measured for my suit. Then I was told that I might put my initials on the 'duds^' which I did. Just then I sat down to write, but I was so sleepy I could hardly see, so I routed out F and 70 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES we went looking for a wash, but we could n't find it. We came back in time for supper at 7 o'clock. Then we had a drill in facings and marchings. We were dismissed at 8 o'clock, which gave me an hour in which to write and 15 minutes in which to get back before taps. "For 'grub' we had hardtack here last night along with canned corned beef and coffee without sugar and milk. For breakfast some more hardtack, cof- fee (cold), beans baked and some 'salt.' For dinner we had 'soft tommy,' 'sow belly' (pork), and coffee with milk and sugar. "If there is anything you want to know, please write. Allie and I are bright and chipper to-day as can be. I must be closing, for I must read my Bible before time to go to bed." The two days' march referred to in the letter was the trial march of the brigade consisting of the Sixth Massachusetts, the Sixth Illinois, and the Eighth Ohio. Every movement was made in detail as though in the enemy's country. The night was spent in the half-shelter tents, and on the morning of the 28th there was a mock battle, the Sixth Massa- chusetts trying to prevent the other regiments from returning to the camp. The new recruits, "rookies," as they were called by their more sophisticated companions, were left in camp. Thus, during the absence of the others, the new men from Concord had plenty of opportu- ROUGH EXPERIENCES 71 nity to get accustomed to their surroundings, and they were not subjected to the good-natured hazing which some of the others were obHged to undergo. Camp Alger at this time was a tented city having a population of over ten thousand. It was laid out in squares and each company had its own company street. Enterprising craftsmen carried on lucrative business operations on the street corners. A theater furnished daily amusement to the soldiers who cared to spend their money in that way. The Y. M. C. A. had its tent, providing the boys with a quiet place in which to rest and to write letters. Religious ser- vices were held nearly every day m this tent, as well as in the tent of the Salvation Army. To Carl this great white city seemed indeed the "great wide world" and to him there came the utter loneliness of a stranger in the midst of strangers. To his friend, under date of June 28, he wrote, "I am here in the great wide world, with no friend about me except my great God, who will protect me against the evils of camp life." No one who has not been in an army camp can imagine its roughness and coarseness. "College life," said a Harvard man who was in Carl's company, "is refinement itself compared with camp life. In college men are sometimes profane, and they often indulge in coarse jokes that they would not tell to their mothers and sisters; but they are obscene for the sake of the joke, not for the sake 72 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES of the coarseness. In camp, men are dirty for the sake of being dirty. In most cases it is a 'bluff' to hide deeper feeHngs of homesickness and sadness. In a few instances it may be wanton callousness, but in all cases the language of the majority of men in camp can be described only by the word 'rotten.' Men who are unaccustomed to any vileness at home, at camp vied with each other in the attempt to say the most dirty thing. And when the men got to- gether in the company streets to sing, the purity of the influence of some familiar song sweetly and pow- erfully rendered would often be rudely befouled by some one crying out, 'Now let 's say something nasty.' " "The life here is jarring," Carl wrote to a friend under date of July 3. "It is all I can do to keep my spirits up, but I have a Guide and purpose in this world, and who could fail to be true to himself? "When I sit down to write to you there comes a sadness over me that I cannot account for. Even as I write tears stand in my eyes in spite of myself. . . . I suppose I am foolish to write thus but it seems to be this or nothing with me and I know you will understand it." And then he goes on to speak of receiving the Testament which she had sent him and of the com- fort he finds in reading it. But in the letters written to his parents at this time there is not a suggestion of loneliness or of ROUGH EXPERIENCES 73 heart-sickness. A letter of June 29 is chiefly con- cerned with describing the daily routine of camp life :— "I do n't know just where I left off in my last let- ter, but I will tell you something about myself and life at Camp Alger. Here is the programme : 5.15, reveille; 5.30, roll-call; 5.45, breakfast; then the next thing is drill for i^ hours, then after another interval, dinner. In the afternoon comes another drill of I "I hours; then supper comes. Next in line, the recruits have a drill in the evening, which lasts half an hour. We have all drawn our suits, leg- gings, blankets, ponchos, guns and gun-slings, can- teens, knife, fork, spoon and tin cup. I had my hair cut day before yesterday and it looks very funny now. I am feeling very well and can sleep well nights. We expect to move to Newport News Fri- day, but when and where we go after that I cannot tell. This news has not been confirmed as yet." And his letter of July 4th to his parents merrily relates some of the amusing incidents at camp : — "You are doubtless thinking about us down here, but no more than we boys down here think of you, so many miles away from us. We are spending our Fourth away from home and I think perhaps you would like to know how we spent it. "Last night the boys, that is, those in our regi- ment, began to celebrate and fire blank cartridges, but orders came from headquarters that we should 74 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES not make any noise or celebration whatever until reveille at 5.15 in the morning. Some evil spirit in Co. K, next street to us, fired off a gun during the night, but nobody seemed to know anything about it when the officer of the guard, who happened to be Capt. Cook of Co. I, came to investigate, so the cap- tain sent the corporal of the guard with a squad to guard the street and see that no further disturbance occurred during the night. But at reveille this morning there began a roar and rattle of rifles and cannoncrackers. Then we had breakfast, after that a "loaf." Allie, C — , and I tried for leave to go to Washington, but no permits were granted in our regiment to-day, so I loafed around here this morning, doing nothing except listening to the cele- bration. "At 12 o'clock we had dinner — the same old story of roast beef, half done but fresh, potatoes and coffee with sugar and milk and "soft tommy." This after- noon we heard that Santiago was taken. The Ohio boys got out their drum-corps and had a march, and then came the Sixth and they had a march. It was a great hullaballoo. "I ran across the finest practical joke this after- noon that I have ever seen. The report was circu- lated this afternoon that they had a monstrous turtle in H Company recruit-tent. Of course everybody wanted to see it. When I went up with P E , I saw the joke. They had put a canteen in ROUGH EXPERIENCES 75 the water in a large wash-tub and surrounded it with boughs so that it looked at first sight like a portion of a turtle's body. They had over half the men of the Sixth, and many men from the Ohio regi- ment, in to see it. But the greatest fun was that nobody told about it after they had seen it. "After I had taken a good look at the turtle I went back to quarters and borrowed a pail, and got some water and did my washing, which consisted of one blue shirt, one pair of drawers, one undershirt and two handkerchiefs. Now I am sitting in the tent, writing. While I have been writing Sergeant J came into the tent and detailed F and D , who is also squad-leader, to go on guard, and so I interrupted my letter half an hour to help them polish their brasses. F chose my gun to take with him on guard-mount because it was well cleaned and he wants to try for orderly, and I thought it was in our interests to let him use it. "Allie and I are well. We have been a little 'off our feed,' but are all right again. Did Allie tell you that they sent him to division hospital with measles, when it proved to be only heat rash ? "The life here is very interesting but monotonous; but I stand it all right. I am working hard at the manual so as to be able to go out on dress parade soon. Why does n't Gardie write, and some of the rest of the people around there ? You must explain to my friends that I have very little time in which I 76 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES can write to them and I get very homesick if I do n't receive one letter out of the two mails that come each day. "I sent my church Bible home to you. There is a note in it. Be sure and not lose it, won't you? I send it home because Miss sent me a very neat little Testament about two and one-half inches long, one and one-half inches wide, and less than a quaiter of an inch thick. It is less bulky than my other. She had my name printed in it in the inside of the front cover, — Carl Hart, Co. I, 6th Mass. It is very fine. "We are going to have a jolly good supper to- night. I just asked the cook's assistant and he said canned salmon, bread and coffee with sugar and milk. 'T am writing this letter on borrowed paper and I have almost come to the end of my loan. "This is from your soldier boy, Karl." The expected order to move came to the regiment on the morning of July 6, and by evening of the same day the entire regiment had boarded a train of dirty second-class emigrant cars. Then began what was really the recruits' first ex- perience of the hardships of army travel. On the journey from Massachusetts they had had room enough and had been allowed enough money each day to pay for good food on the way. Now the cars were crowded, and traveling rations had been issued ROUGH EXPERIENCES yy in advance. Moreover, during the twenty-four hours occupied in the run to Charleston the men were not allowed to leave their assigned cars. The heat was intense, the filth and stench of the crowded cars well- nigh unbearable. Under these uncomfortable circumstances Carl found time to pencil a note home: — "We are at last on the move this afternoon. We got orders to pack up after we came in from regi- mental skirmish drill. We were all packed at one, and then we commenced to clean out our old tents and burn up the rubbish. We left Dun Loring at 9 o'clock p. M,, and at this time Allie and I are in the best of spirits. Carl," X UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS The regiment reached Charleston about eight o'clock on the evening of July 6. But the men were kept in the cars until the following afternoon. The discomfort of their dirty, crowded cars was doubly hard to bear from their position beside a Western regiment whose train was cornposed en- tirely of sleeping-cars and equipped with the other conveniences of travel. Some of the boys from the Massachusetts regi- ment crawled out of the car windows during the' night and went into town for food and drink. But most of them pluckily stuck it out, getting what sleep they could in their cramped positions on the hard seats. During the forenoon of the next day special permission was granted to some of the men to leave the train for a few minutes at a time, and Carl wrote the following letter home in a drug store on King street : — "We have reached Charleston. But where we will go next I do not know. There is a rumor that we shall be sent to a garrison for a week or two until they are ready to send us to Cuba; there is also a rumor that we are going straight there. 78 UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 79 "I have just received my pay, $7.28, and in this letter I mail order for $10; $5 is of my pay, the other is some I took away with me. "Allie and I are very well now and it is pleasant sailing now we are used to the climate. "I must close as I have only 15 min. to be away from the train, and we are obliged to stay in the train unless we get permission otherwise. Your son, Karl." It was unfortunate that the soldiers' pay-day should come just at this time. The men were ex- pecting to go at once into the enemy's country where they thought there would be no opportunity for using money. So the majority either sent their money home, as Carl did, or spent it foolishly in intemperate eating and drinking in Charleston. Later, when they needed money, they were short. The night of July 7 the regiment spent on the docks of Charleston. The men slept, some in the open air and others in empty cotton-sheds, and the luxury of abundant room was highly appreciated by all. Carl wrote home on the 8th as follows : — "I have snatched a few minutes to write to you another letter before we go. How long it will be, I do not know, but it will be within two days or else we may wait a month. You see we are loading so many troops down here now we can hardly tell who is going and who is n't. Allie and I are both enjoy- 8o A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES ing good health and strength. We have been in Charleston two days, this being the second one, and you ought to see the different places we have slept in. The night of the 6th we slept in the cars of the Penn. Central R. R. which we came down in over the Southern and S. C. and G. railroads. We could not possibly stretch our feet out straight — I mean our bodies. Last night we slept in empty cotton-sheds with boards under us. I slept fine and I have not even unrolled my blanket, using my roll for a pillow. "The water here in the South is very bad. I have hardly drunk a quart of water in four days and that is saying a good deal for me. "Charleston is a dirty place in appearance, inside the stores and out. But there are three redeeming features. One is a store at 582 King street where a "white" white man keeps a provision store. He served us with hot coffee (that is, all who wanted to come in there instead of going to a saloon), bread and butter! !, sardines, pickles; in fact, he would hardly let us pay for anything. "The next is a statue of John C. Calhoun, who, you know, is the idol of South Carolina people. The pillar upon which it rests is about 50 feet high and his figure in bronze surmounts it. Near the monu- ment is an interesting pile surrounded by a fence. On it is a plate saying, "A part of the horn work (meaning made of sea-shells) which formed part of UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS gl the defences of Charleston during the war of '6i." I found a bit of shell laying round, so — Must close, company moves. Carl." The abrupt termination of this letter was caused by the order for the company to prepare to embark. What Carl did with the shell he found we shall never know, and we must always remain in ignorance of what seemed to him to be the third redeeming fea- ture of Charleston. The Sixth Massachusetts and one company of the Sixth Illinois were carried seven miles down the harbor in ferry-boats and transferred to the *'Yale." At midnight of the same day, July 8, General Miles and his staff boarded the transport, and almost im- mediately she weighed anchor and sailed for Cuba. The trip was uneventful. At noon on July ii the vessel anchored off Siboney and reported to the "New York." Admiral Sampson came on board and was closeted with General Miles in conference for half an hour. Santiago had not then surrendered, in spite of rumors to the contrary, and for several days the men of the Sixth were kept in expectation of landing to participate in a final attack upon the city. On July 12 Colonel Woodward of the Sixth Massachusetts was informed that his regiment would be landed in a small bay on the west side of the city to take the Socapa battery, and then join the right wing of the Chr— 6 82 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES army. But during all the morning of the 13th the white flag still floated, showing that the conference concerning surrender had not yet been concluded. During this day the men were issued rations for three days and were ordered to prepare to land on the following morning. That evening some of the men wrote what they thought might be their last let- ters home. Some talked together quietly and seri- ously in little groups. Some sang hymns. A few tried to hide their serious thoughts by an unusual show of bravado and coarseness. Carl's letter to his friend, written under this date, contains no reference to any danger which might be in store for him, but rejoices that the dreary inactiv- ity of the life on shipboard was so near a close : On board the "Yale," off Santiago. Dear friend : — 1 received your last letter just as we were leaving Dun Loring. Since then I have traveled many miles and seen many things. Yesterday I saw them shelling the forts at Santi- ago and we expect to land to-day. We. that is, our brigade, the Sixth Massachusetts, Sixth Illinois and Eighth Ohio, are to hold the territory which Shafter has gained. That is as far as I can tell now. The last two or three days I have been very home- sick, but have got pretty nearly over it. It was in- action, probably, as much as anything, and now that we have action in sight I feel better. It is grand to see the fleet of the United States collected around the entrance of Santiago, watching it even closer than a cat watches a mouse. UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 83 The coast is very hilly, even precipitous in many places, but the vegetation is beautiful. We have remained on the boat and watched them burn a fever-infested town for three days. Perhaps you would like to know something about the voyage. I '11 tell you frankly it was, well, it was n't charming. We had to sleep on wet decks in wet clothes and blankets some of the time, for there was scarcely any night when there was n't rain. The first night out I slept upon the hurricane deck and while I was sleeping my regulation hat blew away off the ship. After going two days without a hat, Allie succeeded in purchasing a white yachting-cap from one of the sailors. Allie has been very, very kind to me, even giving up some fine bits that he was at times able to get from the officers' kitchen. The food we have to eat is not very good. We tried to feed a dog with some of the canned beef and he would n't eat it. We threw some hardtack over- board and the sharks would n't eat it. On the way down we sighted the island of San Salvador. But still more interesting than that was the waterspout we saw twisting to the sky in a most ferocious manner and continuing to spout upwards for fifteen minutes. Allie and I are both in good health although we are a little hungry. Yesterday noon, — well, just a minute : I did n't tell 3^ou that General Miles was on board and was going to stay here and direct things. Well, yesterday noon he ordered that we should have tomato soup for dinner. It was good, what there was, but there was n't very much. Thev say that we are going to have hash this noon. I hope so. Just now the sailors are washing down the deck 84 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES and I am sitting astride a flour-barrel that happens to be handy and writing on the rail of the ship. B has just opened a can of deviled ham and I must turn my attention to that. So good-bye, and "God be with you till we meet again." Yours very sincerely, Karl. • The morning of the 14th dawned with the white flag still floating. But soon after there came the signal, ''Santiago has surrendered." The worn, hungry men, who had been waiting eagerly for the opportunity to land and to act, burst into cheers be- cause it was another American victory. But grad- ually there settled over all the gloom of bitter dis- appointment; and the close quarters of the transport with all its privations seemed a hundred per cent, more unbearable than before. From July 14 to the 17th, the "Yale" made daily trips up the coast, returninp- to Siboney each night. But after the formal surrender of Santiago on July 17, she sailed to Guantanamo, where she anchored. Then came weary days of wretched waiting under the most trying conditions. "Quartered on deck, exposed to the rain and wind of a tropical climate, under a burning sun by day and a dampness by night, the men were at the mercy of the treacherous climate at the worst season of the year. Part of the deck was covered by awnings, and others were put up at the end of a week. These served the double purpose of protecting from heat UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 8$ and from rain and to catch water, which was con- sidered a luxury for drinking, as that provided on the boat was distilled and drawn from a faucet at either end of the ship at a temperature that was sick- ening hot. When one wanted a drink it was neces- sary to line up and drink in turn from a chipped- edged enamel cup that was used in common by the sick and the well. The writer was threatened with arrest by the marine guard for pouring water into his own cup to drink. No canteens were allowed to be filled, which prevented cooling the water even to the temperature of the air. When it rained at night the men would get up off the deck and roll their belong- ings in their ponchos and shiver in groups until the storm was over and then would lie down again upon a wet deck. "Our meals consisted of coffee, of which we never had enough, and that without sugar, hardtack, occa- sionally fat bacon, but usually raw tomatoes, a can of which would be given to two or three men for their dinner, and which at times had passed their day of possible usefulness and were thrown overboard. As an occasional luxury, half-cooked 'sow belly,' which would have been excellent fare for an Arctic expedition, was served, but this usually went to feed the fishes. The sailors' food was far superior to that of the regiment. Their sympathy was aroused for the men to the extent that they gladly shared their meals when that was possible, although they 86 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES paid the penalty by arrest if they were found giving or selHng food to the soldiers. The only meal which the writer had on board which could be called by that name was a boiled dinner bought from a stoker, and which made a feast for three. Men who lived on Beacon street grabbed food from the refuse of the officers' table which was being thrown overboard, while Harvard men chased small potatoes down scuppers with an eagerness which could be explained only by the pangs of hunger." Even under the harsh conditions thus described in Lieutenant Edwards' " '98 Campaign of the Sixth Massachusetts," Carl's letters to his parents were chatty and cheerful. On July 20, when they had been twelve days on shipboard, he wrote the follow- ing :— On board transport "Yale," off Guantanamo. Dear folks : — You are doubtless wondering whether your boys are living or not and what they are doing. Do n't be scared. We have n't left the "Yale" yet and the chances of landing are small. We expect to start on the Porto Rican expedition very soon, but just what is going to be done the soldiers do n't know, there are so many rumors circulating. I guess that you received my other letter from this boat. The life here is very monotonous. W'e have regular drills, if they can be called drills. We line up for rifle inspection: then comes a setting-up drill; then we are dismissed. In the afternoon we have another drill of the same character. \\'e have UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 87 breakfast in the morning between 5.30 and 6,30, which may consist of coffee and hardtack, and for dinner coffee, tomato soup and hardtack, or coffee and hardtack, and for supper the possibihties are the same, — never any difference. I am well and even lively just now. Allie is a little ''off his feed," but is getting better; in fact, this morning he told me he would like to have me bring his "grub" as fast as it came up-stairs. We have n't seen a letter since we left Charleston. It "jars" us awfully. Yesterday afternoon we were instructed to clean our guns, so, having nothing better to do, I sat down and picked every single, solitary piece of mechanism apart and, what 's more strange, I got it together again. I am in Corporal Davis' squad. He has just been promoted. I am number two man in the rear rank; Allie is number three. There are a large number of things of minor in- terest that go on in the company. For instance, the "Hobo" can. This article is an old tomato-can with the edges turned over and fixed so that it will either fit the bottom of our "growler" (that is our tin dip- per) or leave it so that it will hitch on the handle by a string. Just now I was startled by the sound of guns, which proved to be the fleet saluting the flagship "New York" as it came into the harbor from Santi- ago. We got the report here that the papers had killed about 500 of the Sixth, but you know that we have n't been off the ship. We sleep on the deck always and I go "bumming" and sleep any old place. Company I's main quar- 88 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES ters are on the main deck, port side, aft. I slept on the promenade around the berth deck for a while the other night, and getting tired of my place I went onto the main deck forward, and seeing a good clear space I lay down. I may have been asleep about two hours when some one sung out "Third relief, wake up," but I paid no attention because it sounded in another part of the ship. Pretty soon some one shook me by the shoulder and said, "What relief do you belong to?" I said, "Oh, go on, you crazy galoot, and let me alone !" And then I woke up and found I had gone to sleep in guard quarters with my belt on, which is a badge to distinguish the guard from the surrounding sleepers. I got up and started off. The officer of the guard said, "Here, where are •you going?" I said, "I ain't on guard. I 'm only bumming a sleeping-place." Then I went and lay down on the grating of the kitchen so that I should n't be cold during the night, for the nights here are very cold. They have let us go in swimming the last three days. I have been in twice. When I do n't go in swimming I get a bath from the hose in front of the breakwater. I take at least one every day and sometimes two. You would have laughed to see me do my washing the other day. The last time I went in swimming some one laid a lighted pipe down on my pants and burned a hole through them and now I have got that to mend. When you can, please send me a block of that thin paper such as you sent Allie, and if you think it practical send us both down some of those beef-tea capsules. The fellows have been fishing off the sides of the UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 89 boat and have caught a number of Spanish mackerel which tasted very fine. I had some. We have to move round every morning so that the sailors can wash the boats and the decks. The boatswain's whistle has just sounded and he has called for "scrub and wash clothes," which means that they are about to wash up the deck. So I must stir my corporosity and close this letter. Your boy, Karl. But in a letter written to his friend on the same day there is a strain of loneliness and sadness : — "I have been very homesick the last two weeks, but am getting over it slowly. But, nevertheless, when I wake up in the watches of the night, I think very longingly of the old Bay State and loved ones left behind. A night or two ago as I sat in my usual state, that is, arguing questions with myself, the band struck up 'The Stars and Stripes Forever' and I was reminded of our evening spent on the beach. I hope that God's providence will allow me to return home and spend another such evening as that." Yet even in this letter to his friend whom he felt he could burden with his loneliness, the sadness soon gives way to a jocose recital of some of his hard- ships : — "One thing that makes a variety in our food is fried hardtack. When we have nothing else to do, we take half a dozen hardtack and go down into the C)o A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES galley and fry them. They are very nice. We have jnst had what we call the 'cake-walk.' We have to make a circuit of the ship while the portion of the deck assigned to us is being washed down," The first mail from the north which was received by the regiment after leaving Charleston was deliv- ered to the boys on board the "Yale" on the morning of July 21. Among other letters received in that mail by Carl and Allie was one written by their father under date of July loth, which was as fol- lows : — "I hardly know what to say or how to say it. Our thoughts are so constantly with you that I really think we lose sight of a good deal that goes on here, for lack of attention. The house seems lonesome without you, and your heads would swell if you could know how many inquiries are made daily by people of all descriptions as to your where- abouts and welfare. . . . It is curious to see the different ways in which the different people who have sons in the Sixth take this last move of your going to Cuba. Some mourn and complain pub- licly, — on the housetops as it were. Some find comfort in converse with others in like circumstances, and some give no sign. Of these last is your mother. A very brave woman is your mother. None of the children have seen her shed a tear. But the piano is n't often used now-a-days. and when it is it seems to be running into minor chords, I have UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 91 watched her day by day, and I know as no one else can how much your absence means to her. In a way it is a comfort to me, for it is impressed upon me that the sons of such a mother cannot do a cow- ardly thing, a mean thing, or a thing in any way unworthy of her. And so, when I think of the temptations which surround you, I say, 'They will not yield.' W'hen I think of the dangers, I say, 'They will not flinch.' And when I think of the hardships, I say, 'They will endure.' All this I ex- pect you will do by the grace of God and the brave spirit you inherit from her." When Carl had read this letter he sat down imme- diately and wrote to his mother, replying to a letter she had enclosed with Mr, Hart's. 'Tt pleases me very much," he said in the letter, "to know that you keep flowers on my desk. As to the homesickness you ask me about, I own up. But it was only the natural longing that one has for home when he is away. , . , Allie and I are both well and healthy now, and hope you are at home. Money burns in the hands of the boys here. One fellow just said, T 'd give a whole month's pay to be at home.' We expect to start for Porto Rico at three this afternoon." The homesickness which Carl described to his mother as "the natural longing to be at home" was in reality a very aggravated case. For several days the boy was unable to eat the unappetizing food fur- 92 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES nished him. He evinced a strong desire to mope by himself, and Allie and his other friends in the com- pany had much to do to keep him from total despair. Meanwhile, the poor and scanty nourishment and the enforced inaction were beginning to have their effect on many men in the regiment. The second cabin saloon, which was used as a sick-bay, was soon full to overflowing. The cabin was stuffy and ill ventilated. Attendance was insufficient. No one who looked in through the ports and saw the wretched men panting for breath and crying in vain for nurses, cared to go there himself. So sick men crawled about as long as they could move. But while the ''Yale" was still off Guantanamo, just be- fore she v.as ordered to Porto Rico, Allie, who had really been ill for several days, was ordered to the sick-bay. On the same day Carl approached the doctor, asking permission to serve as his brother's nurse. "Carl Hart came to me on the 'Yale,' " writes Dr. Hermann \\\ Gross, then serving as lieutenant and surgeon to the regiment. "It was about the time when we were lying off Guantanamo, and the expedi- tion of invasion was being organized to move on Porto Rico. "At about this time William A. Hart, Carl's brother, was brought to the 'after sick-bay.' so-called, suffering from what bade fair to become a virulent attack of typhoid fever; and having been bunked as UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 9^ comfortably as circumstances would permit, a special nurse was sought to attend to his wants. The right person was very soon found. During the afternoon my orderly, then doing nurse duty, brought to me a stalwart young soldier who, having duly saluted, expressed to me in a few words his desire to be trans- ferred to the hospital corps. "The applicant was young and beardless, but was large, and instantly impressed one as possessing more than average strength. The fact of such a man's coming voluntarily to me and seeking a trans- fer from his company led me to suspect that possibly there was some underlying cause for his action, pos- sibly some ill feeling between company officers and soldier, or possibly a desire on the part of this vigor- ous youth to shirk work. Unfortunately, such things happen. Men rush to the hospital to avoid certain unpleasant tasks, only invariably to find tasks equally or more trying awaiting them in their new position. Learning, however, from one in whom I placed confidence and who was more intimately in touch with the enlisted men than I, that this man's only reason for wishing the change was that he might be with his brother, then one of my sickest cases, and that his company standing was of the best, I agreed to take him in. Many other such volunteers were indeed needed, and might have eased much suffering." After the "Yale" had reached Porto Rico Carl wrote the following letter home : — 94 ^-i SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES July 25, 1898. Near San Juan, Porto Rico. Dear folks at home : — At last we are at our destination. We have ar- rived at a little town about 20 miles from San Juan. All the regiment have landed except those considered physically unable to do a long series of marches and fights. Those remaining behind are to be kept until their strength is gained again. There are three from our company who have not stood the hardtack, beans and tomatoes, and Allie is one of them. You know that the life on board a ship is very grinding, and only the hardiest have stood the rush without grum- bling. I advised Allie to go to the hospital to re- cuperate, for he will get more nourishing food. He took my advice like a good boy and his condition is much bettered by it. although he is weak and has the usual fever that attends physical weakness. But it is not Yellow Jack. We have n't had a case of that on board. The doctor promises me that he will go to the Red Cross Hospital Ship, and that he will be taken to a more invigorating climate. I just stopped Major Dow as he was passing and he says they (for there are 100 in the same shape with him) will be put on board the "Lampasas," which has a body of trained nurses on board, and they will be taken to some hospital. I will find out and let you know. And now aliout y(^m- "buster." \\>1]. he is n't quite as fat as he was, but he is fully as healthy, if not more so. than ever before. T have taken up a new department of work. The other day they wanted an extra nurse in the hospital and so I vol- unteered and now T am thinking very seriously of joining the corps. Tf Allie goes North, as he cer- UNCOMFORTABLE QUARTERS 95 tainly will, I shall join the corps, for there are many fine fellows in it and every one is kind and friendly to me. The hospital is very interesting and instruct- ive. The major said also that they would probably be taken to Fortress Monroe. This is not certain, but Allie will let you know when he reaches his des- tination. Must close for lack of space. Your loving son, Carl. That was the last letter written from the ''Yale." Very soon after that Carl was separated from his brother, who, as Major Dow had told him should be done, was placed on the hospital ship with the other sick men. But Carl saw him once more before the ship sailed north. Allie tells of that meeting in the following words : 'T lay upon a deck on a mattress. The heat of the tropic skies seemed to be some malevolent fiend beating upon my fevered brain. I was utterly mis- erable. Suddenly a shadow fell before me and I looked up. It was my brother standing with feet planted wide apart, arms folded, with a beaming smile upon his face. A small sailor hat, replacing his own, which had been lost, was stuck upon the back of his head. He had left me by orders two days before but had managed to get leave and had now come from the shore of Porto Rico out upon the blazing waters three miles to see me. His words were cheerv and hopeful. He was 'mighty glad' I could go, and knew I would 'get home O. K/ 96 A SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES And SO after a few minutes he had to go. He took my hand, and with 'Good-bye, old man, do n't give up,' he left. There was a splash of oars and then a pause. Then up over the side of the boat came our whistled call. My lips were so parched I could not answer. Again it came clear and sweet and the next moment I heard his oars fall and he was gone." XI MINISTERING TO THE SICK It is now a matter of history that General Miles changed his plan of campaign, deciding to land his forces on the south side of the island at Guanica in- stead of near San Juan. So "the little town about 20 miles from San Juan" where Carl thought he was, proved in reality to be the town of Guanica. It is also now a matter of history that the Sixth Massachusetts regiment here took part in its first and. only engagement. Not all of the companies were engaged, but all who were acquitted themselves with honor. Only three men from the regiment were wounded and none killed. This was on Tues- day, July 26, the day following the landing of the regiment and the very day on which the hospital corps came ashore. Carl was on duty for thirty consecutive hours be- fore landing, and after landing he worked in setting up the hospital tents until Wednesday noon. In the afternoon of Wednesday he was detailed by Major Dow, surgeon, to find three other men to go with him to the outposts. But all was quiet along the line and at noon Thursday they returned to camp. During Friday Carl was on police duty at camp. 97 Chr— 7 98 ^ SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES That afternoon, while he was talking with Dr. Gilli- cuddy of the Ninth Massachusetts, Dr. Whiteside of the Sixth Illinois approached them, and putting his hand on Carl's shoulder said. "Doctor, do you know this is the hardest working fellow in the corps?" No compliment could have pleased Carl better, and he gleefully reported the episode to his parents in his first letter from Porto Rico. On Saturday, July 30, began the painful march to Ponce. The "Yale" experience had unfitted the men for hard marching, and the pace set by the offi- cers was a rapid one. Soon the boys began to throw away the heaviest of their luggage, and after a few miles they began one by one to drop out by the way. The first night's camp was at Yauco, seven miles from Guanica, and the following morning the march was resumed. During this second day many men fell out of the ranks from sheer exhaustion, and they were picked up by the hospital men and carried along in carts. There were no ambulances in the column. On Monday morning those too sick to continue the march were sent back to Yauco by train, and Carl was one of the hospital corps detailed to return with them. Two days were spent here at Yauco ; then the hos- pital corps was ordered to proceed by rail to Ponce to rejoin the regiments. They carried sixty sick men witli tlit-ni on tliis journev. MINISTERING TO THE SICK 99 The regiment remained in Ponce until Tuesday, August 9. Then, as a part of General Garretson's brigade, it marched north in the direction of Arecibo. The road was only a mountain trail well-nigh im- passable to wagons and deep with mud. Bridgeless streams had to be forded, and the men were obliged to assist in pulling the wagons up the steep hills. Often some wagon would stick in the mud, causing much delay, and blocking, it might be. a great part of the brigade. The night camps were made in the open from necessity; and the men were exposed all night to the rain, in some instances without any protection what- ever, since the baggage-wagons containing the tents were often far in the rear. At three o'clock on August 11, after nearly three days of marching, the regiment arrived at Ad juntas and encamped for the night in a drenching rain. The rain continued all the next day, the regiment re- maining encamped in the mud. And on Saturday, August 13, the march of eighteen miles to Utuado was made in the one day. Carl, with others of the hospital corps, was left behind at Ad juntas at the temporary hospital in charge of Dr. Gross. So, here in the lonely town, the boy became separated from his company and from all his home friends. But he makes no refer- ence to the natural loneliness he must have felt in the first letters which he writes home. L.ofC. lOO ^4 SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES - "I almost wish you could be here," he wrote to a friend on Sunday, August 14, "to see the trees and plants. Flowers that are cultivated with greatest care in the North grow wild here. Fruits of all kinds grow wild; the mangrove, the orange, banana and limes are found abundantly. We almost could live on the country itself if the fruit was only ripe. But it is n't. "Well, as to my own health. I feel quite strong, and happy as circumstances will allow, but on Sun- days I get most uncontrollably homesick and I do n't just know the reason why. In camp life very many comical and also pathetic scenes occur. Imagine yourself seated on the tail end of an ox-cart, dangling your muddy feet over the tail-board, watching a com- pany of men file down a steep hillside, covered with mud almost six inches deep, to get their dinner. Suddenly one of the fellows loses his balance. His plate, knife, fork and cup fly to all points of the com- pass and he finally fetches up in a heap in the mud. But that is not all. During his wild gyrations he has come in contact with some gingerly balanced comrade and started him in motion. The action is contagious and in an almost incredible time the whole line is slipping and sliding, splashing and roll- ing down the hill. "Now place yourself in the doorway of a tent about 8 o'clock in the evening. Through the camps the lights are glimmering. Men are moving hurriedly MINISTERING TO THE SICK iqi up and down the street or standing in knots about a campfire, talking. Now 'quarters' is sounded. The knots break up. The hurrying feet hurry faster. Now sounds the call 'taps,' the prettiest and saddest call ever played. The lights are put out save one or two stray ones. All the camp is still except the steady-pacing sentinel, and the soldier bids the world good-night and goes to sleep. "The sun is down and that is my only candle, so I must close." "Have you heard from Allie yet?" he wrote to his parents on the same day. "I got word from Ponce that he was much better. I got the news from one of the Sixth Massachusetts boys that was set ashore from the 'Lampasas' at Ponce. How are all the boys, anyway? It is very hard for me to be 'way off here alone, where I can get no news from home. It would be all right if I could only get the mail. But the delivery is slow and we get mail only about once in three weeks. But when it does come the more we get the better it seems. "Well, perhaps you would like to know about my health. Most of the time my spirits are fine and so is my health, but sometimes my spirits droop when I have the stomach-ache and my sleep has left me. Then my spirits fall and my legs grow weak. "Well, things seem to slip me just now and I can't 102 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES think of anything more to write, so I '11 have to close. "Your loving boy, Karl. "P. S. Will you please get somebody to read the nth Psalm at the next consecration meeting of the C. E.?" The conditions of the hospital at Ad juntas were as trying as could easily be imagined. Dr. Gross states that the number of men left to do the work for the sick was ridiculously small, and that the quantity of work for each man was consequently ex- cessive. Rains were almost constant and at first the hospital was quartered in a mud-hole. After a few days, however, an empty cojffee-house in the town was secured, which served the purpose much better. "It is delightful," Carl wrote, "to be here out of the mud and rain and to hear the rain beating on the roof over you and know that it can't get at you." From exposure to the rain and the damp in the old quarters Carl caught a cold which he described to his parents as a very light one. The night work, too, was all new to him and very trying, and he missed his regular sleep. But by degrees he claimed to get accustomed to this, too. What he missed most in his life at Adjuntas was the inspiration of religious services. "It is Sunday here the same as at home," he wrote to a friend on August 21. "Yet I can attend no MINISTERING TO THE SICK 103 church. This day of all the week is my homesick day, and I thought that perhaps if I wrote to some of my friends far away it might do me good. I have just finished a long letter to Miss A — in an- swer to one I received from her yesterday. It was such a beautiful letter. I tried to tell her how much I appreciated it, but words failed. You probably have heard from Allie before this. I heard from Lieut. Hart that he was undoubtedly at home, for which I thank God. But when you go to church Sundays just think of me and listen to the teachings of God's Word for me. I have nothing but my own strength and God to rely on now, and the sense of companionship of others far away does me good. "I have wished many times that I could know in what part of the Bible you are reading. But I have not as yet received any word from you about that But, nevertheless, I read my Bible just the same." After he was sure that Allie had reached home in safety he wrote the following to his mother, under date of August 28 : — 'T suppose Allie has got home, according to what you have said in your letter. Well, give the old boy my love. Tell him not to worry about me, because I am strong and well, and can stand any amount of hard service. I forgot to mention (a very bad over- sight on my part) how good and kind he was to me on the 'Yale.' He brought me some good things from the ship's cooks and helped to make me as com- fortable as possible. I04 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES ''I do n't begrudge him his return one bit. When I got the news from Lieut. Hart that he was prob- ably at home safe I sat down and read my Bible, and I opened to the second chapter of Philippians and found more comfort in that than in any possible com- fort that could be found in this country, I shall stick to my Bible, for when other helpers flee, and all looks gloomy, I turn to God and my Bible for comfort and strength. "Well, my dear little mamma, how do you think your Carlie will look when he gets home? His face wull be just as bright but thinner; his form will be taller and more developed and square. But he is the same boy at heart and will return just as good, and better in his habits, as when he went off. This I promise you truly, before God. "I learned this afternoon that there is no dry sea- son here. It rains all the time. I can readily be- lieve it. I am having a snap just now. Only seventeen fellows in our hospital, and they are all but one convalescent and able to help themselves." But in this same letter Carl makes mention of the death of two of the patients in the hospital. It seems that one of the men died during the hours when he was on night watch alone, and the expe- rience ag^ed him. It was soon after this that he wrote home: "I have lost most of the 'kiddishness' that papa used to come at me for so much. I am also fast learning to do things independently and if I learn MINISTERING TO THE SICK 105 that faculty, one of my purposes in coming to this war is fulfilled." During the last week in August Carl's strength be- gan to fail him, but he made no complaint. "The food" as he expresses it in his letter, "does not agree with me very well. So I am living mostly on bananas." "I cast my lot where I knew the road would be rough," he wrote again, "and why should I com- plain ? It seems to me at times that I must give way to my lower self, and let the work slip off my back on others perhaps more tired than myself. But I have a tender, kind Father in heaven who tells me that my way is right. I have very little to uphold me in this work away from my friends. My happy moments are those which I spend with my Bible during my night watches, or thinking of happy days gone by, or building new air-castles for days to come. I am happy, too, v»^hen I read the little verse written in the front of the Testament and so thankful for the power to understand its deeper meaning." The verse he refers to is this from Emerson : — "So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, The youth replies, I can." "To-day I 'm not feeling at all well," he wrote to a friend on August 29, "but I suppose it is only tran- sient, and I will feel better in a day or two. You say you do n't see how my letters can be so cheerful. Io6 A SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES Well, you know there 's no use in crying, so I might as well laugh." "Do n't worry about me,'' he wrote at another time, "but look after the boys at home. I 'm all right." W'hen the number of the sick men had somewhat diminished, Carl, who had sometimes been working both night and day, was on duty for the most part only in the night. The night was divided into two watches, his hours being from midnight until six o'clock. This gave him some wakeful hours dur- ing the day when he was off duty, and he had time to look around the town a little. "I tell you there are little patches of clover in the midst of this cactus plantation we are going through," he said, in a letter written about this time. "In the day, when I am off duty, I take some hard- tack or a few centavos and go up town and exchange them for bananas, cocoanut candy, johnny-cake, gin- gerbread, or rice-cake which the native boys go around the streets selling, the same as our boys sell newspapers. Although I 've no doubt the beggars cheat the life out of us. The other day I got some red bananas. I ate a couple; the third I saved; and when I fried my bacon for dinner I sliced the banana and fried it. It was great! I gave some to Dr. Gross and he wanted some himself, so he is going to buy red bananas to-day. "In the park here we have some of the most beauti- MINISTERING TO THE SICK 107 fill roses I ever saw ; roses such as we pay dearly for at home even in the rose season. I take the liberty now and then as I go through the park of picking a few^ for a bouquet and taking it to the hospital for some of the sickest boys. It seems to do them good. Well, I have been pretty much all night writing this letter, and as I go off duty in a few minutes I will close for the day." On August 28 many of the convalescent patients belonging to the Sixth Illinois left the hospital to re- turn home with their regiment. On the ist of Sep- tember, the hospital was further depleted by sending six men to Ponce. And, under date of September 2, Carl wrote to his brother Jim : — "I am having a snap just now. Everybody has left the provisional hospital except four well men, and all we are waiting for is the ambulance to take the stuff here, before we go to join the regiment at Utuado. Meanwhile, we are having a cinch living on eggs, rice, sardines, fresh meat, soup (bean and beef), fresh bread, tea and coffee, and I tell you it 's good and no mistake. But we won't get that from the regimental hospital when we get there." The mail was very irregular in reaching the men at Ad juntas, the more so because they were separated from their companies. Sometimes they would get no mail for three or four weeks at a stretch, and then they would receive letters five or six weeks old, per- haps. On the evening of September 3 Carl was made I08 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES happy by a budget of mail consisting of twelve letters and ten packages. The letters from Massachusetts were dated all the way from the middle of July to about the 20th of August. Several of them were from his mother, and more than one from the friend whose letters were so great a help to him. But of all the letters, the one that caused him most rejoicing was one from his brother Allie. Allie was getting well and he was at home. Three days later the hospital at Ad juntas was de- serted and Carl started of¥ to join his regiment at Utuado. XII HIS LIFE FOR OTHERS Between Ad juntas and Utuado there was only a mountain trail, at this time of the year made ex- tremely difficult by the incessant rains which ren- dered the unbridged streams well-nigh unfordable, and which turned the red clay of the soil into slimy, sticky mud. Over this road Carl, with two or three companions, journe}ed with an ambulance. But the mud was so deep and the streams were so dangerous that riding was out of the question. Often they had to push the wheels out of the mud and many times they were obliged to steady the ambulance with their hands as they went over the rough rocks or through the deep streams. It was eight o'clock in the morning when they left Ad juntas. At noon it began to rain, and it rained incessantly all the afternoon and evening. A few minutes before "taps" at nine o'clock, they pulled in to Utuado, wet to the skin, covered from head to foot with red, sticky mud, and well-nigh exhausted. Dirty and wet as they were, they turned in at once for the night and early in the morning reported to Major Dow, in charge of the hospital forces at Utuado. 109 no A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES On his way to report Carl met Colonel Rice, and he describes the interview in a letter to his mother written September 8 : — "When I went to report to ]\Iajor Dow in the morning, not having had a chance to wash up, Colonel Rice spotted me, called me to the curbstone and o-ave me a calling down. When I had explained to him that I was just in from Adjuntas and had no time to draw new clothing, he excused me, saying he thought I was on duty from my being there with my equipment at that time in the morning. "The Colonel is a fine man, and any soldier who has any military pride and self-respect swears by him. He is one of those officers who are constantly on the move overseeing everything and sparing noth- ing to have things in orderly shape." Carl wrote this letter in bed, where he had been ordered bv Dr. Gross on the morning after his ar- rival. The letter, however, contains no hint of this fact. In a letter written to his friend on the same day he frankly speaks of his condition: — "Well, I promised you I would write honestly and I shall keep my promise. When I awoke Tuesday morning you can not imagine how homesick I was when I thought of my class all going back to school and I not with them. "The march has very nearly exhausted mc. I was worked very hard at Adjuntas and I stood it all, but it was awful sickening wurk. I had the cold, HIS LIFE FOR OTHERS m damp hours of the night, i. e., until 8.00 a. m., and twice during my watch I had to take care of dying men, and through the dampness and cold I have con- tracted a severe cold and rheumatism. When I came into the hospital Monday morning to ask for medicine the Doctor said to me, 'Go into the hos- pital, Hart, and take a cot. You 've been sick too long, and you stay there until you get well.' Well, I did n't like that, but I thought it best. "I feel ashamed to be writing this to you who have so much to do, but your letters are so comforting. The little Testament is a great relief and comfort and I read from it every night. I must close now, for my head is beginning to swim." This was Carl's last letter to the friend and teacher whose friendship had been to him so great an inspira- tion and help. Before Carl took his bed, he had the opportunity to greet some of his companions in his company whom he had not seen for nearly a month. Lieutenant Decker of the company was at that time ill in the hospital. Carl hunted him up and without making any reference to his own exhaustion and illness he cheered him with his bright smile and with a few words of hopeful encouragement. Then he himself went to bed. After that he wrote only two letters, both of them short ones to his father. In that of September 10 he confesses his illness, but makes light of it : — 112 A SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES "I have some bad ne\v5 to tell yoii this time. The day after I came from Ad juntas I went to get some medicine for my diarrhcea, and Dr. Gross ordered me into the hospital. He says I have been sick quite a while. I have got the diarrhoea bad, and I do n't think I will get over it until I get out of this miser- able country. I have also contracted rheumatism which makes it difficult for me to write as it has me just now in the (write) right shoulder. I have also a cold and a weak back but, my dear papa, do not worry. You know that your boys as a rule take your advice and I will take the advice in which you say, 'Keep up your courage, boys; and if you get sick, get well again.' "I must close now. \\"\\\ write you very soon. Your loving boy, Carlie." In the last letter home, received by his loved ones several days after the telegraphic communication an- nouncing his death, he speaks cheerfully of his ill- ness and hopefully of the prospect of soon being at home : — Utuado, Porto Rico, September 13. 1898. My Dear Papa : — You must n't be worried about me in the least. I am feeling better at this writing. T asked Dr. Gross what was the matter with me to-day. He said I had a fever from overwork', but if T stay in bed two weeks. I '11 be all right again. He HIS LIFE FOR OTHERS 113 ordered me whiskey the other day and I had to take it because he had no substitute. Perhaps it did n't raise fun with me the first time it was taken. Honestly, it 's the worst tasting stuff I ever got into my mouth and I won't put one drop in more than I have to, you can bet. My diarrhoea still bothers me, but I have faith that Dr. Gross can cure it in time. We are getting our new uniforms here. I have my pants and my hat; the rest of the things arrived to-day; those I have not yet received. They con- sist of a coat, a blue shirt and a pair of leggings. When I came over from Ad juntas, I found that I weighed 148 pounds — twenty-two pounds less than when I enlisted. Never mind the furlough. We will be home in- side of a month, and I could n't get home on a fur- lough much quicker, if you could get one for me. Well, do you realize that on the 30th of Septem- ber I will be 17 years old? I hope I am home on that day. B — and C — are well; so are F — and Captain Cook. Mrs. Rice, the colonel's wife, comes every day to the hospital with egg-nog, but I do n't drink it because of the brandy in it. Well, I can't think of anything more to write, so will close, in good spirits, and I think in improving health. With love to all, Your loving boy, Karl. Soon after this letter was penned, Carl grew rapid- ly worse. Concerning this last illness Dr. Gross writes as follows : — Chr— 8 114 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES "It was evident after twenty-four hours' time in Utuado that he was unable to continue working, and was consequently admitted to the hospital. "The illness, typhoid fever, which finally confined Carl to his bed and eventually caused his death, was the scourge of the troops at that time, and the com- plication, dysentery, was its common ally. To the best of my knowledge Hart's first trouble was a chronic diarrhcea, which seized him while living at Adjuntas. At that time, however, he was not sick enough to be admitted to the hospital or assigned to quarters. His condition seemed to be somewhat im- proved when I left him at that town on September 5. On his admission to the hospital in Utuado typhoid fever was suspected, and after twenty-four hours had elapsed little doubt remained as to the diagnosis, and very little as to the likely severity of the attack. "Men were called for from his old company to nurse him under the supervision of the surgeon and hospital steward, and their hours for watching were so divided that one of them was always with him. His case, however, was beyond our power to reach, and on the 26th of September he died. There was little or no evidence of physical suffering, and never a word of complaint or dissatisfaction. His mind during the most of his illness was in a somewhat stupefied state, and at the last he was entirely de- lirious. His friends, both from his old company, HIS LIFE FOR OTHERS 115 and those he had made during his hospital service, felt and expressed the deepest regret at his death. He was, in fact, only a boy, dying shortly before his seventeenth birthday. His life, if spared him, would doubtless have been a useful one, and a pride to those near him, but to them the great satisfaction will be that he was an honest and faithful soldier, while he lived, accepting each requirement as it came, and that his name is now among those who suffered their utmost in the service of the United States. "From the day of Carl Hart's being detailed to serve as nurse until the day of his death, I never had cause to regret my decision in accepting him. In the first place, he was not only obedient, which a soldier must needs be, but he was always willing. He was a careful worker, and, furthermore, a con- scientious one. Coming to me without the slight- est experience in the work he volunteered to perform, he was always anxious to grasp each detail of in- struction, and still more anxious to do the work well. I think he took a pride, in his quiet way, in making a clean report of work thoroughly and carefully done." One of the men from Company I detailed to watch by Carl's bedside was Charles Miner of Concord. "My hours with him were from midnight to six in the morning," Mr. Miner states. "Most of the time he was unconscious, lying in a sort of stupor. But sometimes he had lucid moments when he knew Il6 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES me. Then he was always grateful for any little thing I could do for him. He always thanked me particularly for the sponge bath which we had to give him every few hours, saying that it felt good. "One night after I had bathed him, he took hold of my hand and said, 'Charlie, you and the other boys have been awfully good to me, and I hope sometime you '11 know how I appreciate it.' Then he sank into a stupor again." Miner himself was taken ill and was not with Carl at the end, but, so far as we know, these words of gratitude to his comrade were the last lucid words he ever uttered. On September 26, four days before his seventeenth birthday, the tired soldier was called from his faith- ful service of his fellow men on earth to eternal rest with God in heaven. XIII YET LIVING Carl was buried in the little soldiers' cemetery at Utuado on the morning of September o.'j. All the regiment formed to do honor to one of its youngest soldiers, his own Company I acting as escort. Six of Carl's most intimate comrades were his bearers. Mr. Dwight L. Rogers, the Young Men's Christian Association Secretary then with the regiment, read the simple service, and a squad of eight privates from Company L fired the last solemn salute over his grave. And there, in the quiet cemetery, sur- rounded by the flowers he loved so w^ell, they left him. "I first met Carl on the 'Yale' on our way to San- tiago," Mr. Rogers writes, "and was always im- pressed with his earnestness and his entire fearless- ness in the service of the Master. I remember he always wore his Christian Endeavor badge on his blue flannel shirt, where it was conspicuous, and when he would drop into our rooms he was always glad to talk over matters pertaining to his Christian life, and to tell of the struggle in which he felt that he was gaining strength. He was in my ofiice only a day or two before he was taken sick, and com- 117 Il8 A SOLDIER IX TWO ARMIES plained then of not feeling well. The next I heard of him he was in the hospital and was soon very sick and unable to recognize his friends, and before many days had gone on to his reward. He was one of those fellows of whom it can be truly said *He laid down his life for his friend,' for I have no doubt that he contracted the fever while attending to others in the hospital. ... He was one of the young- est men in the regiment, a mere boy, in fact, but he always impressed me as one of the most advanced in living up to what he believed to be true and right." Carl's body did not rest long so far away from home. \\'hen his regiment was ordered North, nearly a month later, his body was brought home to Concord. And one Sunday afternoon, late in Octo- ber, simple services were held in his own loved church, with an address by his pastor. The church was crowded with his many friends. The Christian Endeavor Society attended in a body. In Septem- ber the Society had sent him the following birthday greetings, which he had never received : — "At the regular Sunday evening prayer-meeting of the Christian Endeavor Society held September 1 8, it was voted that the following greeting be sent to our president in Porto Rico : — The Endeavor society of which you are president sends its most cordial greeting upon the seventeenth anniversary of your birth. The esteem in which they held you was manifested by a unanimous elec- tion to a responsible position early in the year. YET LIVING 119 Their love for you has shown itself continually dur- ing your absence in the service of the best country in the world. They know you have served your country well. They have no doubt that in your duties of ministering to the sick, and other work, you have served your Master and Lord faithfully. With an earnest wish for your continued welfare, and a return as soon as is considered best by those administering our nation's affairs, they say to-night, "God bless you, and keep you, and cause his face to shine upon you." May he shield you from tempta- tion and permit you to give many times "a cup of cold water in His name." May you yet spend many birthdays with us, working for the Master." Company I was present at this funeral in Concord, and the same six who had acted as bearers in Utuado again performed this ofifice of love. Most of his schoolmates were there, too, — and all of his friends and loved ones at home. "There was no cant about his Christianity," said his pastor, the Rev. W. W. Campbell, in his simple eulogy. "It was as natural to him as any other part of his life. It was not something that he put on during Sundays; that he wore when he was in meeting; that he thought of when he was in the company of Christian people; it was a part of his life; it was something that was as natural to him as anything else in life. He loved his football clothes, he thought much of the glove with which he played baseball. It was just so about his Christian Endeavor pin and 120 ^ SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES his Bible, — they were a part of his Hfe, and they were a joyful and natural part of his life, a part of him- self. He loved the hymns of the Church. He knew them to sing them by heart, and he would go to places where he could sing them, and where there were those that would sing them with him or play the tunes upon the piano or organ. He loved the music of the church organ, and would go and sit in the church and listen to the organist while she re- hearsed. He once declared that he had a great de- sire to hear the famous operas and the great oratorios as they are at times presented in Boston, and if he had not sufficient money to pay both admission fee and car-fare he was going to walk to Boston that he might hear them. "The church and the home where first he knew and saw God were hallowed places to him. This expression was frequently uttered in his prayers, 'God bless the Union Church.' The church will never be quite the same without him, just as the home will never be quite the same without him. Yet Carl's death has given a new significance to the church, A hero's name is on our roll. And just as the family tie is strengthened by this sorrow, so the ties of the church are strengthened by the loss of this young brother. "I praise God that in my ministry I have been privileged to come in touch with so fine a soul. It is worth all the years of study and the annoyances YET LIVING 121 which are incident to the life of a minister to have been permitted to know the inner workings of a life like this, and to have been associated with it. . . . "I do not suppose that Carl knew that he was go- ing to die. I presume that if he had known that this illness was his last he would have sent us — not a message of regret that he must die alone, that he must die in a foreign land, that he must die in his youth, in his very early manhood — he would not have sent us a message of himself, but he would have sent us a message of courage for us, to be strong, to be courageous, to look out, and on, and up. "But let us look the other way for a moment," the pastor continued, with a ring of triumph in his tones. "A young man said to me the other day when he had learned of Carl's death, 'I wish I knew all that Carl now knows of eternity.' A man seventy years old said, 'All I can wish is to have as much said in praise of me by my friends and acquaintances as has been spoken of this boy.' We echo his words. Is not his life complete ? What are fifty years more or less here as some of us live them, so full of sel- fishness and greed and strife? Does it not make the ordinary life as we sometimes live it seem small and mean when compared with such a life as this? Do you remember, when our Lord met the sisters of Bethany he said to them in their sorrow, 'Thy brother shall live again' ? Carl lives again." Yes, Carl lives again. It was only the body worn 122 A SOLDIER IN TWO ARMIES out in the service of his fellow men that lay beneath the flag of his country that day. Carl himself is still living and still influencing all who had ever known him. For a long time after Carl's body had been laid away in the beautiful and historic Sleepy Hollow cemetery, fresh flowers were left daily on his grave by many unknown donors, and when the early snow of winter had buried the grave, many footsteps of unknown friends trod a path to his last resting- place. "He helped me more than I could ever have helped him," said his friend and teacher. "There are many times now when the thought of his life and the re- membrance of his shaggy head above my desk, have kept me from giving up to doubt and weakness." "He translated the ideal into the real," was the testimony of one of his comrades. "He was a soldier in two armies, and a good soldier in each. And he died in the service of both." "Carl lived here on the earth," said a young man who was inclined to be sceptical. "Now he is somewhere else, and where he is there must be God and heaven. Nothing now can make me doubt that." A few months after Carl's funeral, a colored man stopped Mr. Hart in the street in Boston. "I guess you do n't know mc." the man said. "I am B — , and I was No. — in the Reformatory." YET LIVING 123 "Yes, I remember you," Mr. Hart answered. "But I 'm in a hurry this morning. Speak quick. What do you want?" "I do n't want anything," the man replied. "I only wanted to tell you something about Carl. You know I was in Company L, and when I had a touch of the fever, Carl took care of me. I shall never forget his kindness, and I hope it will make me a better man." And so, though God giveth his beloved sleep, their works do always follow them. j^,.«.uKa JUN 10 190^1 a LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 013 789 731 3