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YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

CHRISTIAlSr

MEMORIALS OF THE WAR:

SCENES AND INCIDENTS

ILLUSTRATIVE OF

EEIIGIOIJS FAITH AlfD PEINCIPLE, PATEIOTISl AND
BEAVEEY m OUE AEMY.

HISTOEICAL NOTES.
BY
HOEATIO B. HACKETT,
PBOFESSOE OP BIBLICAL LITERATUBE AND INTERPRETATION IN NEWTON THKOL. INSX.t
AUTHOB OF " ILLUSTKATIONS OP SCEIPTITKB," " COMMENTABY
ON THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES," ETC.

BOSTON:
GOULD AND LINCOLN,
69 'WASHINGTON STREET.
NEW TORK: SHELDON AND COMPANY.
CINCINNATI: GEOBGE S. BLANCHARD.
1864.

Entered according to Act of CongresB, in the year 1864, by
GOULD AND LINCOLN,
In the Clerk's Oifice ofthe District Court of the District of Massachnsetts,

PEEFACE.

It is hardly possible that too many books should be
written in illustration of the objects and spirit of the
present war. Among them all, may there not be room
also for one like this ?
The object has been simply to gather up some frag
ments of this great history that otherwise might be
lost. Most persons will agree that the incidents re
corded in these pages are worth preserving ; and yet
from their nature, as not faUing distinctly within the
province of biography or history, and from their being
scattered in so many diiferent quarters, they are Hable,
after having been read at the moment, to pass out of
sight and be forgotten.
I have put these materials together in this manner
because I thought it might be a grateful service to
the friends of our brave soldiers, as well as an act of
justice to the soldiers themselves, and because I felt a

PEEFACE.

hearty interest in the work. Pacts like those here
spread before us are adapted to give us our strongest
impression of the intelligence, the earnestness, the
Christian principle and heroism of so large a class of
men, who have come forward to support the Govern
ment in this great emergency, and to give us also our
strongest conviction that a cause which such men sup
port cannot and will not fail. The least we can do
for those who thus lay themselves on the altar of sac
rifice for us is, to show ourselves grateful to them, and
to cherish the memory of what they have done and
suffered. History, in due time, will render to many
of them its fitting tribute of commemoration ; but not
to all. Such imperfect memorials as these form the
only record that will ever be made of names not a few,
and of deeds of suffering and valor never surpassed,
which we and those after us should not " willingly let
die." Nothing has been inserted here that I have not
reason to suppose to be strictly true. It wiU be seen
that the names of persons, the names of places and
dates, have been freely given ; and when they are not
given, it will be seen that the statements themselves
bear with them the marks of their truthfulness. The
interest of the facts lies in their sober reality. Ac
counts that might be thought by some very interest-

P K B P A O E . VII
ing, and entitled to a place here, have been excluded,
if they were drawn up in such a manner as to seem to
be written for effect.
I have endeavored to give to the selections as much
variety as the scope of the book allowed. The events
related take place under circumstances more or less
different, and serve in each instance to illustrate, to
some extent, a new class of ideas or a new phase of
character. This fact will account for the absence of
some narratives which the reader may have seen •else
where and may be disappointed not to find here. It
was impossible, of course, where the noteworthy inci
dents are so many, to insert them all ; and it was un
necessary to mention those which are so similar to
others that to insert them would be to repeat very
nearly the same things.
The author's task has been chiefly that of selection
and arrangement, but not without some additional
labor. I have inserted explanatory remarks here and
there, sometimes in the text, and sometimes at the
bottom of the page. I have made some of the arti
cles fuller, where the means of information enabled
me to do so, and have abridged other articles, as it
seemed, in the one case or the other, to agree best
with the object of the present publication. It was

vm PREFACE.
necessary to give some uniformity to the style of the
book. I have felt at liberty to make occasional chan
ges in the language, such as the writers themselves,
with an opportunity for revision, might be supposed
to make ; yet taking care always never to interfere
with the facts, or the spirit and tone of the origioal
articles. With this exception, the articles verbally, as
well as in respect of the subject-matter, have been left
in the state in which their authors wrote them in the
presence of the scenes and events which they de
scribe ; and which, in consequence of being thus writ
ten, will be found to be distinguished often by touches
of pathos and a vigor of expression which no skill of
rhetoric could heighten or improve.
H. B. H.
He'wton Centre, March 18th, 1864.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
FIGHTING FOR THE GOVERNMENT ACKNOWLEDGED
AS A CHRISTIAN DUTY. Tkas
1. The first Ohio Volunteer,  16
2. First Christ's, then onr Country's,  ,  17
3. Songs ou the Battle-field,  18
4. The Missionary's Son,  20
5. Pastor and People enlist together,  21
6. He made his Will before Battle,  22
7. The T-wo Brothers,  25
8. The Bible in the Knapsack,  26
9. The Pennsylvania Eoundheads,  27
10. The Prayers at Home the Soldiers' Defence,  29
11. Last Words of a Dying Hero,  31
12. Dying for his Coimtry a Pri'rilege,  32
13. A Chapel Under-ground,  34
14. The Commodore iu the Pulpit,  36
15. They ask God's Blessing,  36
16. The Indiana Hero Boy,  37

X CONTENTS.
CHAPTER n.
SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS IN THE ARMY.
1. The Aged Volunteer,  40
2. John Lorenze,  ?  41
3. General Mitchell as a Preacher,  44
4. The Model Prayer-meeting,  44
6. A Starless Crown,  47'
6. Baptism in the Mountains,  48
7. The Log Church  49
8. The Blind Soldier,  53
9. The Silent Prayer,  63
10. Foote's Fare'weU to his Sailors,  ¦• 64
11. The Soldier's greatest Fear,  57
12. Sorro'w inthe Homestead,  68
13. Last Intervietr of the Heroes,  60
14. Jesus will take me Home,  61
16. The Story of Nolan,  63
16. The Dying Hand on the Bible,  66
17. Suddenly at Best,  65
18. Such are Ministering Spirits,  66
19. The First Sabbath in Camp,  68

CHAPTER m.
COURAGE PROMOTED BT TRUST IN GOD.
1. A Message from the Bible,  70
2. A Word in Season,  y j
3. March of the Seventh N. Y. to Washington,  72
4. The Dying Soldier's Prayer for the President  74

CONTENTS. Xl
6. A Scene in the Log Church,  ¦  76
6. Prayer in Time of Battie  ^.  78
7. He was only a Private,  79
8. Eelics from the Battle-field,  83
9. Words of the Martyr Stephen,  84
10. The Soldier-boy's last Hymn,  86
11. The Tract— " Come to Jesus,"  86
12. The Model of a Chaplain,  87
1%. Worship on the Flat-boat,  89
14. Garments rolled in Blood,  91
16. The Cabin a Bethel,  91
16. Strength of the EuKng Passion,  93

CHAPTER IV.
CHEERFUL SUBMISSION TO HARDSHIPS AND SUFFERINGS.
1. Heroism in the Hospital,  95
2. A Funeral in the Forest,  ' 97
8. Wiping the Tears fixim their Eyes,  99
4. The Soldier's FareweU,  101
6. True t» the Flag,  102
6. Is tiiat Mother?  104
7. Little Eddie the Drummer,  104
8. What a Physician saw,  108
9. The Hospital Tree near Fair Oaks,  IU
10. The Wounded at Fort Wagner,  112
11. The African Standard-bearer,  116
12. A Singular Death,  117
13. The Last Duty to his Country,  ,  119

xn CONTENTS.

CHAPTER V.
EFFORTS FOR THE SPIRITUAL WELFARE OF
THE SOLDIEES.
1. Prayer in a Churchyard,  121
2. Begimental Churches,  122
3. Tho last Soul-cheering Word,  124
4. All One in Christ Jesus,  126
5. Worship in Camp,  126
6. A Regimental Revival,  128
7. Preaching by Moonlight,  131
8. A Soul brought to Jesus,  132
9. A Mother's Thank-offering,  135
10. A New Thing in the Army,  137
11. The Lord's Supper in Camp,  138
12. The First Sabbath at Beaufort,  139
13. A Leaf from his Joui-ual,  140
14. Gift of the Prayer-books,  142
1,5. Fortunes of a Bible,  143
16. Au Answer to Prayer,  145
17. A Sabbath with the Contrabands,  147
18. The Power of Sympathy,  149
19. A Religious Service for the Veterans  151

CHAPTER VI.
EAPP Y DEA THS OF BRA VE MEN.
1. Death of General Mitchell,  ,5.
2. The Child's Prayer that of the Man,  j58
3. So the young Soldier died,  . -»
4. The last Message,  ,
5. Surprised but Ready, 

CONTENTS. xm
6. Looking Up,  161
7. Not dumb, though Speechless,  161
Sy The Doctor's youthful Patient,  162
9. Surely I come quickly,  166
10. The Student's last Wishes,  166
11. The favorite Hymn,  168
12. Asleep iu Jesus, blessed Sleep,  169
13. The Lowly Exalted,  173
14. Waiting for Day-break,  175
CHAPTER vn.
OUR DEPENDENCE ON GOD FOR SUCCESS.
1. The President's Joumey to Washington,  180
2. The Prayer at Fort Sumter,  182
3. An Altar in the Tent  184
4. The Pm-itan Spirit,  185
• 5. A Regiment on their Knees,  186
6. National Fast in the Army,  187
7. The Army Hymn,  189
8. General Anderson in the Sunday School,  190
9. Pray for the President  192
10. Faith and Works,  193
CHAPTER vm
INCIDENTS OF THE CAMP AND BATTLE-FIELD.
1. How a Body was Identified,  195
2. Dread of Temptation,  196
3. Use Your Talents,  197
4. Early Impressions revived,  198
6. Unmarked Graves  ,  199
6. Spirit of Sire and Son,  200
2

XIV CONTENTS.
7. The Unknown Children  201
8. A Mother's Love  202
9. The Value of Seconds,  203
10. Old Hundred at Night,  204
11. A precious Testimony,  205
12. Anecdote of General Sedgwick,  205
13. A brave Confession,  207
14. The Soldier's last Watch,  207
15. Power of Forgiveness,  210
16. Seals of his Ministry,  211
17. AStep Onward,  212
18. Generosity of a Slave,  ^  213
19. Principle stronger than Nature,  217
20. Sights after Battle  218
21. Dying for a Ben'Sfaotor,  221
22. The last Victory  222
23. Do you remember Eokington?  224
24. The Book will teU,  225
25. A Soldier's Pocket Diary,  227
26. Gentle as well as Brave,   230
27. Picket Duty,  231
28. The young Color-Sergeant,  233
29. Lock of Hair for Mother,  234
30. Not yet too late,  235
31. Soldier, are you Hungry?  23i;
82. Our good-hearted President,  237
33. Brought back to the Fold,  239
34. The Current between Camp and Home,  242
35. Home-links of the War,  243
36. A Plea for the Christian Commission,  246

MEMOEIALS "OF THE WAE.

CHAPTER I.

FIGHTING FOR THE GOVERNMENT ACKNOWLEDGED AS A
CHRISTIAN DUTY.
The examples of our motto in this chapter show, among
other proofs, how strongly the Christian sentiment of the
country has been aroused by the object and issues of the
present ¦war, aud illustrate the true connection between
loyalty to God and loyalty to the government. The exam
ples have been selected 'with impartiality, from a wide
range of religious and social life. They are specimens only
(which is true also of other portions of the book) of the
many similar incidents that have ajjpeared from day to day
in the public journals since the outbreak of the rebellion.
They are instances of an unselfish, heroic devotion to the
claims of patriotism and humanity, which, instead of being
admired and praised merely, should rebuke our apathy if
we are not in sympathy -with such ideas of public duty ;
which, at all events, should strengthen the universal deter
mination to crush the rebellion, and save from overthrow
our institutions of liberty, self-government, and law, to
which these costly sacrifices are giving, if it were possible,
new sacredness and value. On subjects of this nature
15

16 MEMOEIALS OF THE WAK.
facts supply the most eflfective teaching, and those pre
sented here may as -well be left to make their own impres
sion, -without amphfication or comment.

I. THE FIEST OHIO VOLtTNTEEE.
The name to which this enviable distinction belongs is
never to perish. Colonel Lorin Andrews, late President of
Kenyon College, in Ohio, was the first man in that State
to offer his services to the governor. Having raised a
company by his own eflForts, he was elected captain, and
afterwards was appointed colonel of the Fourth Regiment
of the Ohio Volunteers. At the expiration of the three
months for which he had been called out, he enlisted for the
war, and commanded his regiment until disease, contracted
in camp, compelled him to resign. He then went home,
already death-stricken, and soon ended his days. Though
he had no opportunity to share in any actual fighting, he
was considered a very efficient and brave ofiicer, as well as
a devoted, exemplary Christian.*
"I well remember," says Bishop Mcllvaine, in the ad
dress at his funeral, "with what pleasure he related to
me a circumstance that had just occurred, which put his
decision as a Christian to a severe test. On the previous
Sunday, some good minister of the Methodist denomination
had preached to them. At the close of his discourse, very
unexpectedly to Col. Andrews, he called on him-4o pray.
It was a trial. But immediately he saw what an opening
it afibrded him at once, in the sight of the whole thousand,
officers and soldiers, — to the far greater portion of whom he
was as yet personally a stranger, — to take his stand as a
IThe compiler haa learned these facts from a private letter.

FIEST CHEIST's, TUEN OUE COUNTET's. 17
Christian, and as one who intended to walk before them in
the confession of Christ. He therefore, without hesitation,
stood up and prayed, — praying for his men and their fam
ilies. The impression was very strong and general; and
he was happy and thankful. About this time, in expecta
tion of soon taking the field, he said to me, ' I have no fear
that I shall not have courage enough for the dangers of
battle. All my anxiety is that I may have firmness
enough to be faithful and decided as a Christian in all the
various circumstances in which I may be placed. I feel
that to do that requires higher courage than to stand un
moved before the mouth of cannon.
" Such a man," continues the bishop, " was fitted to have
command in our army. He could be trusted. In writing
to me abont the motives which led him to become a soldier,
he said he had no love or desire for a military life. It was
not his taste. He did not covet military distinction. He
was a man of peace and quietness. But he was moved
entirely by the consideration of duty to his country, in the
time of her great and awful trial. He said he had care
fully and solemnly, before God, considered his duty ; and '
he had prayerfully arrived at the conviction on which he
was acting."
"He died," says his successor in the college, "in the full
enjoyment of his faith, and trust in his Redeemer, and,
I believe, has gone to that perfect rest prepared for the
saints in heaven."
II. FIEST CHEISt's, THEN OUR COUNTET's.
Bishop Simpson, of the Methodist church, soon after the
outbreak of the great treachery, delivered a sermon on the
national crisis, at Chicago. It is represented as one of the
ablest eflbrts of this clergyman, so distinguished for his
2*

18 MEilOEIALS OP THE WAE.
power in the pulpit. As it was one of the anniversaries
of the denomination, thousands were present to hear the
discourse. Suddenly, at one point in the sermon, and as
the fitting close of a most impassioned paragraph, he gave
utterance to the foUowmg noble sentiment: "We wilUake
our glorious flag — the flag of our country — and nail it
just below the cross ! That is high enough ! There let it
wave as it waved of old. Around it let us gather : ' First
Christ's, then our country's.' "
The effect was electrical. Every heart responded to the
appeal. The sentiment, the preacher's manner, the solem
nity of the crisis, moved the great assembly as men are
seldom moved under the power of human speech.

m. SONGS ON THE BATTLE-FIELD.
The sanguinary battle of Shiloh was fought on the sixth
and the seventh of April, 1862. The ordinary scene which
presents itself, after the strife of arms has ceased, is famU
iar to every one. Heaps of the slain, where friend and foe
lie by the side of each other ; bodies mangled and bleed
ing ; shrieks of the wounded and dying, are things which
we always associate with the victories and defeats of war.
But seldom do we read that voices of prayer, that hymns
of exultant faith and thanksgiving, have been heard at
such times and in such places.
The following account was received from the lips of a
brave and pious captain in one of the Western regiments, as
some friends who visited ShUoh on the morning after the
battle wore conveying him to the hospital.
The man had been shot through both thighs with a rifle
bullet ; it was a wound from wliich he could not recover.
While lying on the field, he sufiered intense agony frora
thirst. He supported his head apon his hand, and the rain

SONGS ON THE BATTLE-FIELD. 19
fi'om heaven was falling around him. In a short time, a
little pool of water collected near his elbow and he thought
if he could only reach that spot he might allay his raging
thirst. He tried to get into a position which would enable
him to obtain a mouthful, at least, of the muddy water ;
but in vain, and he must sufler the torture of seeing the
means of relief within sight, while all his efforts were
unavaUing. "Never," said he, "did I feel so much
the loss of any earthly blessing. By and by the shades
of night fell around us, and the stars shone out clear and
beautiful above the dark field, where so many had sunk
down in death, and so many others lay wounded, writhing
in pain, or faint with the loss of blood. Thus situated, I
began to think of the great God who had given his Son
to die a death of agony for me, and that he was in the
heavens to which my eyes were turned, — that he was
there, above that scene of sufiering, and above thosc/glori-
ous stars; and I felt that I was hastening home to raeet
hira, and praise him there; and I felt that I ought to praise
him then, even wounded as I was, on the battle-field. I
could not help singing that beautiful hymn : —
' When I cau read my title clear
-To. mansions in the skies,
I'll bid fareweU to every fear,
And 'wipe my weeping eyes.'
And though I was not aware of it till then," said he, " it
proved there was a Christian brother in the thicket near
me. I could not see him, but was near enough to hear
hira. He took up the strain frora me ; and beyond him
another, and then another, caught the words, and made
them resound far and wide over the terrible battle-field
of Shiloh. There was a peculiar echo in the place, and
that added to the efiect, as we made the night vocal with
our hymns of praise to God."

20 MEMOEIALS OP THB WAE.
It is certain that men aniraated by such faith have the
consciousness of serving God in serving their country,
and that their presence in the army adds to it some of its
most important eleraents of strength and success.

rv. THE MISSIONAEY S SON.
The raemory of the devoted missionary. Rev. WUliam
H. Pohlman,"^ of his saintly life and martyr death, is yet
fragrant in all the churches. Let them add to this treasured
memory still another as fresh and beautiful, — that of his
only son. Lieutenant William Henry Pohlraan, Assist
ant Adjutant of the Fifty-ninth Regiraent of the New
York Volunteers, who died July 21st, 1863, aged twenty-
one years, of wounds received in the battle of Gettysburg.
Late in the afternoon of Friday, the eventful third of July,
his left arm was frightfully shattered by a Minie ball; but
the brave spirit did not quail. " No," he answered those
who urged him to withdraw frora the front, "never, whUe
I have a sword-arm left to fight with I " An hour later,
his sword-arm failed him too. Another ball, glancing from
his sword-hilt, which it shattered, pierced his right wrist,
severing an artery, and his battle-work was done. But
not for hira should the great work of the hour, the salva
tion of the rejSublio, suffer interruption for a moment.
" Boys," he said to the soldiers who would have borne him
from the field already alraost won, " stay in your places ;
your country needs every raan of you." And so he left
thera, regretting raost of aU that he could not recover the
sword his raother gave him. Its empty scabbard, battered
and blood-stained, but with its glorious legend, the key
note bf his life, unmarred, " For God and your Country,"
il-Ie was a missionary of the American Board in China, and lost his life by
shipwreck in 1S19.

PASTOE AND PEOPLE ENLIST TOGETHEE. 21
is now the most cherished treasure of her who filled a
mother's place to the orphan boy. He reached the camp
at last, fainting on the way from loss of blood, and was
laid beside his beloved colonel.
And now a new phase in the character of this knightly,
nay. Christian hero, was to be developed. A trial, heavy
for such as he, so fuU of exuberant vitality and rejoicing in
his strength, was laid upon him, and he was cast into the
fiery crucible of bodily anguish and bodily weakness.
Sustained by strength beyond his own, nobly did he
endure the test. His beautiful unselfishness and utter
freedom frora degrading vanity were most conspicuous.
Withholding his name from the newspaper reporters, lest
the sight of it among the killed and wounded raight too
rudely shock the tender hearts which he fain would spare
all needless pain, his first care was to break the news of
his condition as gently as possible. For this purpose he
dictated a characteristic note on the day succeeding the
battle. Beginning, not with his own achievements or
sufferings, but with an exultant announcement of the
victory won, he adds: "But the usual good fortune which
has attended rae in thirteen battles of the war has forsaken
me in the fourteenth engagement. I bear honorable
wounds in my country's cause."

V. PASTOE AND PEOPLE ENLIST TOGETHEE.
A pastor in one of the Western States had in his con
gregation fifty-one raen who had enlisted in the service of
their country. They assembled to listen as they supposed
to his parting address; but when he saw their patriotic
zeal, he said to them, that if they were all going he should
go too. At the door of the church they chose him as their

22 MEMOELAXS OF THE WAE.
captain, and now pastor and people are fighting together
in this great struggle for the national life and the rights of
hnraanity. It is estiraated that the churches of the different Chris- '
tian denominations throughout the country have been rep
resented in the array, on the average, in the proportion of
one to every seven of their male members. They have
gone as volunteers, and not as drafted men. The churches in
the older States, it is to be remerabered, contain large num
bers beyond the military age, and thus, of those hable to
serve, this proportion is greater than that of one to seven.
Many of the Western churches have exceeded this ratio of
membership, in the contributions which they have made to
the ranks of the army. Not a few of the smaller churches,
in the less populated regions, have been left almost with
out any men at home, clergy or laity.

VI. HE MADE HIS WXLL BBFOEB BATTLE.
I transcribe the following sketch, -with slight changes,
frora the Boston "Journal," under date of June 18th,
1862. Alas, that one so full of proraise, raore than a
Marcellus in every augury of civic and private virtue, should
only " be shown to us," and then be withdrawn !
Yesterday, the remains of the late Major Edwin M.Smith
passed through Boston on their way to Maine. He was
the son of the late governor of that State, and was of a
character so charming and so rare that public testimony
should be borne to his virtues and services. He feU at the
battle of Fair Oaks, in the van, leading the Fifth Michigan
Regiraent of Berry's Brigade, in their splendid work of
that day. "Better," said his general, « better that I had
lost a hundred raen than that brave boy ! " He was acting

HE MADE HIS WILL BEFOEE BATTLE. 23
as the chief of that general's staff", and that true officer
knew him well. Young Sraith had just returned from
Europe, at the age of twenty-one, when the war cora
menced. Having gained much credit for his bravery and
discretion, he was soon commissioned as major in the
Maine Fourth, but at the urgent request of General Berry,
finally accepted a place upon his staff, and acted as chief
of his staff at the battles of WiUiamsburg and Fair Oaks.
In fact, he led one wing, while General Berry commanded
the other, in that briUiant charge and fight which saved
Hooker's di-vision, at Williamsburg. Smith there dashed
forward with his Michigan regiment, and the Thirty-seventh
New York, and, leaping the enemy's rifie-pits, forced his
way through the abatis into the strongholds with an
impetuosity which astonished all. Four of the enemy's
bullets passed through his clothing, but left him unharmed •
So popular and beloved did he become with these regi
ments, that they would often cheer him as he passed. His
heart though brave was tender as a woman's. His hand
was always open to the needy ; and the sick found him the
gentlest of all who breathed around them. Fond of all
befitting sports, and active as a child, he waa nevertheless
of a mature and thoughtful nature ; having a real love of
country and the highest reverence for truth and law. Frail
in body, he had an exalted spirit and an energetic will, and
won the love of all who knew him. When his horse was
brought to the White House to be sent home, a Michigan
soldier said, " There goes the noble horse that leaped the
rifle-pits at WUUamsburg!" "Yes," said his comrade,
"he had a noble rider then, but he has gone!" and the
sturdy warrior could hardly utter his name.
It was Berry's brigade which at the battle of Williams
burg came up just in time to save the day,' after Hooker's
division had been fighting at terrible odds for several hours,

24 MEMOEIALS OP THE WAE.
had exhg,usted their amraunition, and were on the point of
•giving way. At this critical moment, the newly-arrived
soldiers, having fired five deadly rounds into the enemy, and
repulsed five of their desperate charges, made that memo
rable charge, which recaptured all the lost artiUery and the
ground which the exhausted soldiers of Hooker's division
had yielded.
During the night of the fifth of May, which followed
the battle, young Smith wrote in his journal : "We stood
in arms amidst the enemy's dead and dying, cold, wet
and weary enough. For all this bravery and skill our
noble general was publicly thanked by General Heint
zelman, and eulogized by General McClellan." But the
raodest journalist does not say, what was the fact, that one
of the raost distinguished generals openly pronounced the
youthful officer himself " one of the bravest of the brave,
one of the herbes of the day, from whom we might expect
a future of great usefulness and honor."
Before the attack on Yorktown he made a short will, yet
in all the haste of a camp, he closed it by adding this
reraarkable paragi-aph : " And now, having arranged for the
disposition of my worldly estate, I must say that, pos
sessing a full confidence in the Christian reUgion, and
believing in the righteousness of the cause in which I am
engaged, I am ready to offer my poor Ufe in vindicating
that cause, and in sustaining a governraent the nuldest and
most beneficent the world has ever known."
So he gave that life to his country. Let his memoiy
and that of our kindred martyrs be embalraed forever in
the nation's heart. He -was fit to Uve and fit to die, and
his crown was ready for him.

THE TWO BROTHEUS. 25

vn. THE TWO BEOTHBES.
The foUo'wing simple and touching letter is from tho
brother of John W. Chase, a member of Co. G, of the
Fourth Rhode Island Regiment, who recently died in the
hospital in Carolina City. .James and John were twins,
and both merabers of the sarae regiment, — noble boys, of
whom a friend writes very justly : " This letter will convey
a touching idea of the loss which the mother has experi
enced in the death of one of these Christian youth, -who
might truly be called ' Cromwellian soldiers.' " With genu
ine patriotism, childlike faith in God, a filial and fraternal
affection, James conveys the sad news to his mother ; and
this is another instance, in the humble classes, of that gen
uine heroism which has been brought to light by this war.
Cakolina City, Saturday, 26th.
Deae Mothee : — I now take ray pen to say that there
has been a great change since I wrote last. John has got
through with fighting, and with all his hardships and trials.
He has gone to rest. His sickness was short. He was
seized with typhoid fever, and soon followed Denham and
William. This makes three deaths in our company.
John wrote you a letter two or three days before he was
sick. Then, raother, he was as well as I was ; so you see
we cannot teU what to-raorrow will bring forth. Death is
certain, and life is uncertain. But the Lord knows best
about these things ; and when he calls us, we have to go.
Oh ! I wish that I was in John's place ! Thank God,
mother, there is one consolation, that if we do not see each
other again in this world, we shall in the one above.
I prayed every night whOe John was sick for the Lord
to bless him. I left him in His hands. It was so ordered

26 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE.
that John was not to be shot in the battle-field, but to
be taken by sickness ; and it has turned out all for the
best. ' c
I have tried to do ray duty since I have been in tHe war.
I have felt that this was the place to reraeraber and look
to Him who is oui'best Friend. And he has proved so. He
brought John and me both safe out of danger in the fielrl,
and now he has caUed one of us to go to hira. He may
call for me next. I do not care, mother, how quick; for I
can say that I am ready to go when God calls me, and I
believe I shall meet John with the angels above.
He died at four o'clock this raorning. I send you a lock
of his hair. Remember, mother, if we part with our
friends here, we shall sooner or later meet them before
God. I close by sajdng, do not take it too hard. The Lord
bless you. From your dear son, J. S. C.

VIU. THE BIBLE IN THE KNAPSACK.
A gentleman from one of the Western cities, says the
" Banner of the Covenant," at a recent prayer-meeting in-
New York, rose and said, —
A few days ago, I was present where a body of soldiers,
an entire regiment, having been drawn up in line, were
asked if they would accept of copies of the Bible. The
question was put to thera bythe commanding officer, after
having stated that the citizens of the place, anxious to
show their interest in them and to proraote their welfare,
would be happy to supply each one of them with a Bible
if they were wiUing to receive it. "Now," said he, "as
many of you as are willing to receive the Bibles are re-

THE PENNSYLVANIA EOUNDHEADS. 27
quested to raise your right hands." The result was, (said
he,) every hand was raised, and many tears were falling as
they responded to the proposition. In addition to this, as
the commander stood on the steps of the hotel, one of the
distributors approached him, and gave to him, also, with
appropriate remarks, an expensive and elegant copy of the
Scriptures, in the sight and hearing of all the men. It so
happened that one of the spectators in the crowd was a
missionary frora Turkey. "Oh," s.aid the missionary, "I
never expected to live to see such a day as this ! I never
expected to see such a sight as this. I never expected to
see the legions of au array going out to battle, voting the
word of God into their knapsacks." The men declared, by
this act, that they needed the Lord of hosts as their ally,
and thM, in performing their duty, they could look to hun
for. his blessing on thera.

IX. THE PENNSTLVANIA EOUNDETEADS.
The interesting sketch which follows is frora Rev. Solo
mon Peck, D. D., so well known for his philanthropic labors
in behalf of the freedmen at Beaufort, S. C. : —
It was said by Cromwell of his regiraent of " Ironsides,"
who " were never beaten," " I raised such men as had the
fear of God before them ; as made some conscience of
what they did." It is from them the " Roundheads of
Western Pennsylvania, descendants of Scotch Covenanters
and English Puritans, derive their name— a name fir^ given
in derision by the " Cavaliers," but afterward well under
stood to be a synonyrae for Invincibles.
Soon after the battle of Bull Run, .and on the expiration
of the " three months " service, application was raade to the
Secretary of War, by Colonel D. Leasure, for leave to

28 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.
raise a regiment for the war. The Pennsylvania "Re
serves " by that time had been filled out. " Can you bring
Roundheads, Bible-men?" asked the Secretary. "I can
bring no other," was the reply.
It was my lot to meet the Roundheads, officers and men,
for the first time in the house of God, the Sabbath after I
landed in Beaufort, December twenty-second. The chaplain
of the regiment, Rev. Robert A. Brown, of Newcastle, Pa.,
lay ill of fever at that tirae, and the colonel had invited me
to preach to them at the usual hour of morning worship.
Tho .appointment was made accordingly ; and at bell-ring
ing the colonel marched his men, nine hundred strong, into
the Baptist meeting-house, under arms, and with measured
tread ; but quiet and reverent, as becarae the place, the
service, and the d.ay.
It was an impressive spectacle. The soldiery, intermin
gled with raerabers of other corps, filled the entire area of
the lower floor, and raost of the spacious galleries, which
projected on either side. At the end stood, close crowded
together, groups of " colored people." There, listening to
the word of God, or rising in prayer, or singing, after their
ancient metrical version, some of the Psalms of David, the
Roundheads joined in worshipping the God of their fathers,
— their Gpd and our God, — just as they had been wont to
worship, in their several sanctuaries, with kindred and
friends at home. What added to the interest of the occa
sion was the presence of two other ministers, who took
part in conducting the services, one of thera the chaplain
of the*Eighth Michigan Regiment, Rev. Mr. Mahon. The
service, raoreover, was only the second had by the Round
heads, in Sabbath public worship, since coming to tho
South.

PEAYEES AT HOME THE SOLDIEES' DEFENCE. 29

X. THE PRAYEES AT HOME THB SOLDIBES' DEFENCE.
At the close of the preceding' service, says Dr. Peck,
aud after the benediction had been pronounced, an incident
occurred, not less inspiriting at the raoraent than it was
matter of earnest gratulation afterwards, as a token of
Christian alertness and tact in days to corae.
The congregation was on the point of raoving out, when
one word " Steady ! " clear and sharp, arrested every foot.
Silence the raost profound ensued ; while Colonel Leasure
advanced to the foot of the pulpit stairs, and spoke to his
Roundheads, whose very breath seemed to hang upon his
words, in nearly the following terms : —
" By the waters of the Yough, the Monongahela, the
Slippery-rock, the Conoquanessing, the Neshannock, the
Shenango, the Mahoning, the Hantaba, and the Sunny
Beavers, those dearer to us than the lives we have corae
here to lay down, if need be, to preserve for their inheri
tance a country worthy of them, are met to-day in their
holy places, their sanctuaries, to worship the God of our
country and our salvation. I need not ask any one here
whose names are graven on their hearts, while their united
prayers ascend to heaven for their absent soldiers. In the
raidst of peace and rest, they pray for the dear absent,
who, for aught they know, may be enduring the hardness
of toil or battle at this hour. Does any soldier here feel
that he is less a raan, less patriotic, or less brave to endure
or dare whatever duty may comraand, because he feels that
a coluran of prayer, reaching to heaven, constantly follows
to support our advance ?
"In the times that are past, we have occupied our appro
priate places at their side in the sanctuary. To-day, far
separated, our prayers and devotions blend harmoniously
3*

30 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE.
before the face of our cojmraon Father. In the midst of a
hostUe people, on an enemy's coast, with our foemen men
acing us, in their very presence, we, too, have a sacred,
peaceful day of Sabbath rest and worship. Contrary to
anything we could have hoped for, we have sat in a house
dedicated to the worship of God, and have had his word
expounded to us by a chosen minister, while two other
ministers of the gospel sit on either side, and assist in the
solemn services. To-day is, to us, a day of peace and rest,
Uterally, a Sabbath. We know not when we ra.ay have
another. Another Sabbath may find us on the march ; or
we know not where, nor in what circurastances of toil or
danger. It is good to serve God while we have the oppor
tunity, in his appointed way, according to his chosen ordi
nances. " Wo have here present a minister of the gospel, the Rev.
Mr. Evans, of Stamford, Connecticut, — ' the land of steady
habits,' — who visits us from his distant horae, and returns
to-raorrow. He can meet us here this afternoon, if you so
desire ; and we may again join in the worship of God and
hearing of the Word, at the same hour when our dear
ones at home shall be engaged in like service. It wUl not
lessen our devotions to know whose prayers for us raeet
ours for them in the ear of our heavenly Father.
" So raany as are in favor of afternoon service at three
o'clock wUl raise their right hands."
On the instant, as if by word of mUitary command, every
right hand was above the shoulder. The colonel proceeded
with rapid but clear utterance : —
" There will be service in this house at three o'clock this
afternoon. At half-past two, companies will form on their
company parades; the captains wiU carefuUy inspect the
arms, accoutrements and ammunition, and see that all are
in perfect order, and in a state of readiness for instant use ;

LAST WORDS OP A DYING HERO. 31
for we must remember that we are soldiers, as well as wor
shippers ; and that, while we pray to God to prosper our
arms, we must also keep our powder dry. After inspection,
the regiment will form under arms, in line of battle, on the
regimental parade, and m.arch to this place, to join in the
further religious observance of the day.
" Silently now, without haste, without delay, file frora the
left of corapanies to the street, form into columns, the
right resting northward, and take, at the word, the line of
march to your quarters."

XI. LAST WORDS OF A DYING HEEO.
The foUo^ving letter of Colonel Brodhead, killed in one
of Pope's battles, in front of Washington, in the summer
of 1862, written to his wife in his dying moments, has
been published at the request of fyends who believe that
it belongs to the nation as well as to his faraily. It recalls
to us one of the darkest hours through which we have
passed araid the alternations of the war. Its touching
pathos and high-toned patriotisra will awaken fresh regrets
for the death of this noble soldier and true mau. He was
a colonel, we beUeve, of one of the Peimsylvania regi
raents.^ My Dearest Wife : — I -write to you, mortally wound
ed, from the battle-field. We are again defeated, and ere
this reaches you, your children will be fatherless. Had all
those in command done their duty as I did mine, and led
thoir forces bravely, loyally, the dear old flag had waved in
triumph. 1 Colonel Brodhead was the son of Eev. John Brodhead, a Methodist clergy
man, whom many will still remember for his unwearied and useful labors in dif
ferent ports of New England. He died in New Hampshire iu 1838, after a niin-
istry of forty-four yeai-s.

32 MEMORIALS OF THE WAS.
I wrote to you yesterday raorning. To-day is Sunday,
and to-day I sink to the green couch of our final rest. I
have fought well, my darling, and I was shot in the
endeavor to rally our broken battalions. I could have
escaped, but would not until all hope was gone, and I was
shot, — about the only one of our forces left on the
field. Our cause is just, and our generals, not those of the
eneray, have defeated us. In God's good time he will give
us victory.
And now, good-by, -wife and children. Bring thera up,
I know you wUl, in the fear of God and love for the Sav
iour. But for you and the dear ones dependent, I should
die happy. I know the blow wUl fall with crushing weight
on you. Trust in Hira who gave raanna in the wilderness-
Dr. Nash is with rae. It is now after midnight, and I
have spent raost of the night in sending messages to you.
Two bullets have gone through my chest, and directly
through the lungs. I Suffer but little now, but at first the
pain was acute. I have won the soldier's name, and am
ready to raeet now, as I must, the soldier's fate. I hope
that from heaven I may see the glorious old flag wave
again over the undivided Union I have loved so well.
FareweU, wife and babes, and friends. We shall meet
again. .,r i
° Your lovmg „,
* Tbornton.

xn. DYING foe his COUNTRY A PRIVILEGE.
In the sanguinary battle ^f Antietam an officer of a
Massachusetts regiment was mortally wounded. He had
passed unhurt through the thickest of the light. At one
time, when his regiment had captured a fiag from the ene
ray, he seized it, and, waving it proudly in the air,jgalloped

DYING FOR UIS COUNTRY A PRIVILEGE. 33
fearlessly up and down the lines, his men cheering most
lustily, and the bullets faUing about him like hail. Later
in the day, and when in a comparatively sheltered position,
a random shot struck him, from the effects of which he
died two days afterward.
As he lay near to death, and conscious of Ms approach
ing end, the musicians of the regiment happened to pass
by. He caUed to them with a cheerful voice, and asked
them to play the " Star-Spangled Banner." They played
the grand old tune, and as he listened, the countenance of
the dying soldier beamed with joy. He heard no raore
rausic untU he heard that of heaven, where "there shall be
no raore death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall
there be any more pain." He inquired the result of the
battle, and, when told it was a victory, triumphantly ex
claimed, " Oh ! it is glorious to die for one's country at such
a tirae as this!" Thsn, speaking in the raost affecting
manner to his chaplain, who was with him to the last mo
ment, he said, " Tell my raother I love her. Tell her I
feel I have a God and Father in heaven. TeU her I trust
fully in my Lord Jesus Christ." These were the last words
he uttered. Thus he died, a noble example of a soldier, a
patriot, and a Christian.
When such sacrifices are laid upon the altar of our
country, we have surely new incentives to uphold the
cause for which they are raade, and, with God's help, not
to allow the treason which has slain so raany victims, to
accomplish its purpos^,- And, through this bloody baptism,
shall not our nation be purified at length, >and fitted to act
a nobler part in the world's history?

34 MEMORIALS OP THB WAE.

Xin. A CHAPEL UNDER-GROUND.
The Fourteenth Massachusetts Regiraent bad for a time
the very honorable but laborious duty of guarding the
Long Bridge, at Washington, and the approaches to it
from the Virginia side. A gentleman, who visited the
army in relation to their spiritual wants, asked a meraber
of this regiraent if they had any praying men among them.
" Oh, yes, a great raany! " was the answer.
" And do you ever meet for prayer ? " he inquired.
" Every day," said the soldier.
" Where do you meet ? "
'-- Just corae here," said he, leading the way as he spoke-
They stood in a new fort which the regiment had been
building. " I can see no place for prayer," said the stranger.
" Just down there," said the soldier, Ufting up a rude
trap-door at their feet.
"What is down there? " asked the other, who could see
nothing but a dark hole before them.
" That is the bomb-proof, and down there is the place
where we hold the daily prayer-meeting. Down there,''
continued the soldier, " the raen ^o every day to lift up
their hearts to God in prayer.'' It was not yet furnished
with the irapleraents of death, and these praying men, sixty
in number, were accustoraed to go down twelve feet under
ground, in the dark, to hold communion with God.
The sarae person said to a soldier whom he met in the
camp, —
" Are you prepared to fight in this cause ? "
" I ara, sir," said he.
"What makes you say you are prepai'ed to fight?
What do you mean by it ? "

THE COSIMODORB IN THE PULPIT. 35
"I mean this, sir," answered the soldier. "I have made
my peace with God, through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
I have the friendship of Christ, and so I am prepared for
anything, — life or death."
" Do you mean that you can have the friendship^ of
Christ, and fight?"
"Exactly so," said the brave man. "I mean just that.
I could not fight without a consciousness of my interest in
the love of Christ."

xrv. THE COMMODORE IN THE PULPIT.
It has been raentioned as cha;'acteristic of Coramodore
Foote, that he prayed as if everything depended on God,
and fought as if everything depended on man. On a cer
tain occasion, says the correspondent of a St. Louis paper,''
the comraodore was present at a meeting on the Sabbath,
shortly after one of his signal victories, when the minister
of the church failed to appear, "and the audience was kept
waiting for the opening of the service. It seemed as if
the opportunity for instruction and worship would be lost.
The elder of the church was unwilling to officiate. Under
these circumstances, Comraodore Foote, on the irapulse
of the raoraent, went up to the pulpit, read a chapter in
the Bible, prayed, and delivered a short discourse frora the
text, " Let not your heart be troubled. Ye believe in God,
believe also in me." (John xiv. 1.)
It was unexpected to the people ; nor was their wonder
less when they saw his self-possession, his readiness, and
the pertinence of his remarks. He seemed to be as rauch
at horae in the pulpit as he was on the deck of the Cincin
nati during the borabardment of Fort Henry. The audi-
1 1 have combined two reports of this occurrence.

36 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
tors were much affected at hearing the voice frora which so
lately rang out the word of command,
" In worst extreme, and on the perilous edge
Of battle, when it raged,"
lifted up in humble acknowledgment to Heaven for the
recent victory, and in earnest supplication for protection
and success in days to come. Sorae of his own soldiers
wero araong the hearers. They were expecting to be called
to go into battle again at any raoment. They could have
heard nothing frora any one better fitted to tranquillize
their minds, and nerve them for the conflict.
On coming down from the pulpit, the rainister, who had
arrived just after the prayer, approached and tendered his
thanks ; but the coramodore rebuked him for his tardiness,
and also for his neglect to take the pulpit imraediately on
his arrival.

XV. THEY ASK GOD S BLESSING.
A lieutenant of the New York Seventh tells a story to
which no one can listen without emotion and a glow of
pride in our New England soldiers. He says: "WhUe
encamped in Maryland, I wandered off one day, and came
to a farmhouse, where I saw a party of soldiers, who I sup
posed were Massachusetts boys, but who proved to be
(though it is all the same) Rhode Islanders, who were
talking with a woman Avho was greatly frightened. They
tried in vain to quiet her apprehensions. They asked for
food, and she cried, ' Oh, take all I have, take everything,
but spare my sick husband.' ' Oh,' said one of the raen,
' we are not going to hurt you ; we are nearly famished
and want something to eat.'
" But the woraan persisted in being frightened in spite

THB INDIANA HERO BOY. 37
of aU efforts to reassure her, and hurried whatever food she
had on the table. But when she saw this company stand
about the table with bowed heads, and a tall, gaunt raan
raise his hand and invoke God's blessing on the bounties
spread before thera, the poor woraan broke down with a
fit of sobbing and crying. She had no longer any fears,
but bade thera wait, and in a few raoraents had coffee and
other needed refreshments ready for thera. She then
eraptied their canteens of the muddy water they con
tained, and filled thera 'with coffee. Her astonishment
increased when they insisted upon paying her. Their
asking a blessing," said the office)-, " took me by surprise ;
and when I saw that, I said, ' Our country is safe, when
such men go forth in the fear of God to fight for her.' "

XVI. THE INDIANA HERO BOY.
The narrative which follows appeared in the Cincinnati
" Gazette." Sorae verbal changes only have been raade in
the language.
On the cars running from Evansville to IndianapoUs,
(says the writer,) I fell into conversation with a soldier,
who, though young in years, carried, as I found, the heart
of a man and a hero in his bosora. He was returning
horae on a discharge furlough. Having found others desti
tute, I inquired into his condition. He had started without
breakfast, had neither food nor raoney to go to Elkhart, on
the Southern Michigan road, a distance of over three hun
dred railes, and with the probability before him of being
over two days on the way. His voice was gone, and he
was obliged to talk in a whisper. On seeing what the
prospect before him was, he said to rae, with childish sim
plicity, " I shaU be nearly starved when I reach home, —
4

38 MEMORIALS OP THE WAE.
shall I not ? " I inquired for his haversack, in order to sup
ply hira with something to eat, when we stopped. He re
plied that " it had been stolen from him." Yet he was
indifferent about the haversack; it was the Bible contained
in it that he felt to be the great loss to him. His parents
were religious, as I learned, and had brought him up to
habits of rectitude, and in the fear of God.
He had an impression that he should not live long ; and
I remarked to him, "Death is no calamity to a good boy.'
His countenance brightened as I said that to him, and he
answered with much earnestness, "No, sir; and I am not
afraid to die. I made up my mind that it was my duty to
go and fight for ray country, and my jjarents consented.
Through exposure, I lost my health early in the winter;
and on the Sunday morning of the ^battle of Shiloh, I was
in my tent sick, and the physician ordered me to reraain
there. I had been unfit for duty for two raonths. The
physician was very kind to me. The news kept coraing
back to us near the river th.at our army was giving way
everywhere, and I thought it my duty to take my gun and
go to their assistance. I went to the front, and during four
hours loaded and fired as fast as I could. But the exer
tion was too much for me ; my lungs took to bleeding, and
I carae near dying before the bleeding could be stopped.
But I was glad I did what I could. I have never spoken
since above a whisper, and I fear I never shaU. But it is
all right ; our country must be saved at any sacrifice." At
the first eating-station, the boy was seated at the table,
and his dinner paid for by a stranger ; and his thanks were
so cordial and heartfelt, that tears filled the stranger's eyes
as he turned away, receiving, as he did it, the sick boy's
"God bless you, stranger!"
Time for supper would bring hira to Indianapolis.
What would he do there? Who would befriend him

THE INDIANA HERO BOY. 39
there ? He was told to go to Gov. Morton, and inform
hira he was on his way home from Shiloh, with ruined
health, and had neither money nor food. He answered
that he would do it if he had strength to walk. He was
then told to send him a line ; any one Would carry it for
him. He said he would do so, and added, "It would not
be improper. Surely the governor would not let me starve.
It seems to rae almost anybody would help a sick soldier."
When he arrived at Elkhart, he would stUl be several
railes frora horae. That occurred to hira, and perplexed his
thoughts for a moment; and, then, smiling, he said, "Our
family physician lives there, and he will take me in his
carriage, and carry me home, and, oh ! does not a welcome
await me when my mother sees me coming? I shall take
her by surprise. She is not prepared for that." Here the
train started with the sick boy, who seeraed revived by
his food, and the words of encouragement spoken to him,
and the thoughts of home.

CHAPTER II.
SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS IN- THE ARMT.

I. THE AGED VOLUNTEER.
John Henry, of Indiana, is the name of one of the mar
tyr heroes of the wai'. Although fifty-six years of age, he
enlisted as a volunteer in the Seventy-eighth Indiana Reg
iment. He was not influenced by ambition, for he went as
a private ; nor by the love of money, for he was not desti
tute of raeans, and the soldier's stipend of thirteen dollars
a raonth was little to hira ; nor yet by patriotism alone,
although he loved his country well enough to die for it.
He was a teacher in the Sabbath school, and went from
love to the members of his class, and frora a sense of duty to
his Lord and Master, who had comraitted them to his care.
He said " The Great Shepherd will demand thera at my
hands. I wish to give a good account of my trust. I
must care for the souls for whora He cared, and be able, if
I can, to present thera araong the saved, in the day when
the throne shall be set, and the books be opened." So he
enlisted. He fell in a skirraish on Monday morning, at Uniontown,
Kentucky, raortaUy wounded. A ball passed through his
face, inflicting a terrible wound. It entered just below the
left cheek-bone, cut his tongue almost off, shattered the
right cheek-bone, and so passed out. He was stiU able
after this, to make himself understood, and was full of joy
in spite of the pains of death. On Sunday, the day before
40

JOHN LOREXZE. 41
his end, he had spent the forenoon in a neighboring
orchard, in meditation and prayer. Toward noon he had
this drought impressed deeply on him, " Work to-day, fbr
the time is short." And he did work. Hc passed frora
tent to tent, pr,aying, praising, and exhorting, not only dur
ing the remainder of the day, but late into the night.
The next morning, he was among the first to fall, and
soon his mutilated tongue was silent in deathr Among his
last words "were these : " Oh, I am happy, for when the
Master came, he found me at ray appointed work ! " He
entered into the full conception of those words of Christ,
which we hear with a new eraphasis from such a grave.
" Blessed are those servants whom the Lord, when ho com
eth, shall find watching : verily I say unto you, that he
shall gird hiraself, and make them to sit down to meat,
and will come forth and serve them. And if he shall
come in the second watch, or come in the third watch, and
find thera so, blessed are those servants;''

n. JOHN LORENZE.
The following is a remarkable exaraple of fortitude and
of the power of Christian faith. It is an illustration of
those virtues that would adorn the raartyrology of the
brightest ages of the church. The account is frora the
chaplain of the Eighth Regiraent of Connecticut Volun
teers. It was written frora "Roanoke Island, February 22, 1862.
" We are encamped on the battle-field, and the incident
I relate is fresh in my raind. John Lorenze, a resident of
Mullica Hill, Gloster County, New Jersey, enlisted as a
private in the Ninth Regiraent of the New Jersey Volun
teers, and with his regiment was engaged in the fight at
i*

42 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
Roanoke Island, February 8, 1862. During the engage
ment, which Lasted for a number of hours, Mr. Lorenze
had both his legs shot away just below the knees, and his
comrades bore hira from the field. But he did not
lose his consciousness nor self-control. In speaking of his
sensations as, he was shot, he said that a soraething came
and took away his legs, dropping hira suddenly to the
ground. WhUe he was being borne on the litter to the
hospital, as if indifferent to his own sufferings, he sought
to cheer his .corarades, and all whom he raet, by his encour
aging words and happy raanner. In answer to questions
regarding hiraself and his wounds, he returned cheerful
answers. During the araputation of the fragments of his
limbs necessary to be removed, he retained his spirits, and
encouraged the surgeons by his pleasant frame of raind.
His countenance was an index of the composure, alraost
transport, of his feelings : so rauch so that all who saw him
reraarked at once its bearaing expression.
" I first observed hira as he lay on the floor of the hospital
on the day that he suffered the terrible injury. I went to
hira and asked hira where he was wounded. He told rae
that both his legs were shot away just below the knees. I
then conversed with hira a few moments about his wounds,
the suffering he endured, and spoke to him of the Saviour,
— of his love and sustaining grace. The tears filled his
eyes. ' Oh,' said he, ' Jesus is all my trust. Blessed be his
holy name ! I do not know what would sustain me, if it
were not for the consciousness of his presence.' I asked
him if he was a professor of religion. He replied that he
had tried to serve God for a number of years. ' I have
tried to serve him in the camp, and now he is all my trust.'
The tears roUed down his cheeks while he talked. I left
bim, promising to see him again, .and pray with him, and
also to write to his wife, informing her of his situation. In

JOHN LORENZE. 43
the course of our conversation he spoke of his family, con
sisting of a wife and two young children, and said he did
not know whether he should live or die ; but if it was
God's will that he should live, he thought he raight be of
some little service to those dependent on him ; but imme
diately added, 'God's will be done.' All this time the
same heavenly smile rested on his face. I called to see
him^ again the next day, which was Sabbath, but found
hira asleep, and did not awake hira. I called again on
Monday, and conversed with hira, finding hira still in pos
session ofthe sarae peace and cheerfulness. I then read to
him the fifth chapter of Second Corinthians, and prayed
with hira. Before the prayer closed, the room was filled
with the surgeons and attendants, all of whora were in
tears ; and the hearty araen which came frora the lips of
the wounded raan Was audible to all in the roora.
"While I was writing the letter to his wife, he said,
' Tell her I am comfortable and cheerful ; but as she is very
nervous, do not tell her how severely I ara wounded.' And
then he spoke of the surgeons and those who attended
him, expressing gratitude for their kindness." 'Oh,' he said,
' they are all so kind to me.' I think I never before wit
nessed such an instance of Christian fortitude aud heroic
faith ; his loss was so great, and yet under it all he was
so happy and confident.
" A very profane man called to see him, and in speaking
of hira afterward in my presence, remarked, ' It would do
any one's heart good to look at that man's face. I never
saw such a face since I was born. If I had a regiment of
such raen, I could conquer the whole South ; ' and turning
to rae, he asked, 'What sustains that raan?' It was a fit
ting opportunitj', and I told him Mr. Lorenze's testimony
respecting his faith in Christ, and its power to lift him thus
above pain and the fear of death. The scorner dropped
his head and was silent."

44 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.

nl. GENERAL MITCHELL AS A PREACHER.
This laraented officer was an eloquent man, as well as
learned and brave, and often addressed his raen on religious
subjects. He did not esteem it beneath his dignity, or sub
versive of military discipline, to endeavor to bring his com
mand under the lead of the great Captain of our salvation.
On one occasion, at the conclusion of a serraon preached
to the Ninth Ohio Brigade, near Shelbyville, Tennessee,
the general took his stand on a huge rock as a pulpit, and
occupied half an hour in delivering what is described as
one of the best religious discourses ever heard. He com
menced by saying that he did not appear there as the
general commanding, but in a higher capacity; that he
would address them as a raan his fellow-raen, as one striv
ing with thera for the sarae eternal happiness for which'
all are candidates in this probationary life. He insisted
that the highest duty of a soldier was to be a Christian;
religion heightened every enjoyraent, and prepared him to
discharge better all his obligations. A chajjlain who was
present says, "It was a sublime scene; he left an impres
sion on the rainds of his auditors never to be forgotten."
The effect of this sermon was heightened by the fact that
the services were held on the mountain-top, araid the rug
ged grandeur of East Tennessee.

IV. THE MODEL PRAYER-MEETING.
It is an instructive fact certainly, as the author ofthe sub
joined communication in the "Boston Recorder," the Rev.
William Barrows, of Reading, Mass., suggests, that the
camp, and not the vestry, should fiirnish our "best model of

THB MODEL PEAYBE-MEETING. 45
a prayer-raeeting." The scene is near Stoneman's Station,
in the array of the Potoraac, in the camp of the Twenty-
second Massachusetts Regiment, and the time the evening
of AprU 3d, 1863. ¦
A Sibley tent, warmed by an army cooking-stove, lighted
by three candles, .and furnished with a long mess-table, was
the " upper-room." One real chair, and several real boxes,
chests, etc., furnished seats for twenty or more soldiers.
A strange minister, fresh from horae, had the meeting in
chame. With no ado about agreeing on the tune and
" pitching " it, some one began the service, when a hyran
was called for, by striking up the words, —
" Nearer, my God, to thee."
Then the minister prayed; and before he could find his pas
sage for reading, they started off with
" My days are gliding swiftly by,"
singing two stanzas. Then was read the account of the
blind beggar Bartimeus, and how Jesus healed him, and
how he fijUowed the Master afterward. A few words were
spoken, showing how poor our estate is by nature, sitting
by the way-side of life, and how blind we are to our own
good and God's glory, till we call on Jesus. Then some
body began to sing, —
" I love to steal awhile away,"
and almost all joined, singing but one verse. This was
followed by a prayer, short and fervent. Then carae an
exhortation from a weather-worn soldier of the Cross and
the government. " Jesus, lover of my soul,"
next filled the tent and died away on the hill-side and
among the pines in which the regiraent has so charming a
looation.

46 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
Here one rose simply to testify, as he said, that he loved
Jesus. He did not use five sentences, but it was all testi
mony. Then came a prayer for loved ones at home, the
family, the church, the Sabbath school and prayer-meeting ;
and so stiU were all, that you would have supposed the
praying man to be alone in the tent. The voice trembled
somewhat, and if we wiped away a tear or two when he
said araen, we were not ashamed to be seen doing it, for
some others did so. Our thoughts went horae also, — how
could we help the tear ?
And then, as if some of them in the chances of battle
might miss the earthly horae, a verse was sung beginning,
" Sweet fields beyond the sweUing flood."
Next followed a practical talk about foUowing Christ in
the array. The good ideas were briefly, bluntly put, and
full of the love of the Lord Jesus. Then a stanza went
swelling out araong the pines again : —
" Come we that love the Lord."
An exhortation was now addressed to any who had not
enlisted under the Captain of our Salvation, and it was
pressed horae by the sweet words and, then, farailiar air, —
" 0 happy day that flxed my choice."
Now one kneels down on the clay floor, and prays in the
first person singular. It was a short broken prayer, prob
ably by the brother who, they said, had lately learned to
prtiy, and in that tent. We have all heard such prayers,
and none ever affected us so rauch. An exhortation fol
lowed by a sailor on the difficulties of being a Christian in
the army. He showed how they tried to do that at sea,
and illustrated it by an incident.
Then came the hymn, —
" Thus far the Lord hath led me on."

A STARLESS CROWN. 47
The rainister here reraarked that if we would follow
Christ successfully we raust keep in the ranks, and own to
everybody at proper tiraes, that Christ is our Captain-
Following hira by side-raarches and obscure paths exposes
us to the lurking enemy.
Now the hour was alraost gone and so followed the
doxology — " Praise God from whom all blessings flow,"
and the benediction.
We thought it worth a trip to the Array of the Potomac
to learn from the soldiers how to have a good prayer-
meeting. No one was called on to pr.ay or speak, andjuj'
hymn was given out. No one said he had nothing to say,
and then talked long enough to prove it. No one excused
his inability to "edify.'' No one waited to be called on;
no time was lost by delay, and the entire meeting was less
than an hour.
We shall always remeraber that prayer-meeting in the
Massachusetts Twenty-second.

V. A STARLESS CROWN.
A private letter from Rev. Dr. Spaulding of Newburyport,
Mass!, written at Baton Rouge, mentions a rare instance
of the union of fiatriotic zeal and tender religious sensi-
bUity : —
Yesterday Dr. Dolson told me that a man in the Gen
eral Hospital greatly desired to see a chaplain, and accord
ingly I went to see him. When the nurse had put aside
the mosquito netting, the patient began to converse with
me very freely, speaking of his home in Hopkinton, N. H.,
where he had a wife and two children. He had once been
a member of a Freewill Baptist Church in that vicinity.

48 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
He asked me if I thought it possible that his great desire
would be gratified before ,he died. I told hira I could
hardly judge, without knowing what it was. " Oh," said
he, "I want to be the instruraent of the conversion of one
soul. I cannot die and wear a starless crown, — a, starless
crown!'''' There was a depth of earnestness in his expres
sion and manner very affecting, and the whole fear of the
man in dying was, not that, he was an unforgiven sinner,
not that he should fail of heaven, not that his fi-iends
would not corae to Jesus, but that he should wear a starless
crown. VT. BAPTISM IN THE MOUNTAINS.
On Tuesday of last week, says the editor of the
"Christian Advocate," we had a call frora Rev. Joseph
Cotton, of the southeastern Indiana Conference, now chap
lain of the Thirteenth Indiana Regiment. He was on his
way from Indiana to his post at Huttonsville, Western
Virginia. In an hour's conversation he detailed to us a
chapter of stirring camp-life incidents. After one of the
severest battles recently had there, and while the men of
his regiment were exulting over their victory, a young raan,
a pri^-ate who had participated iu the fight, came to him,
and said that he wished to talk with him on a subject the
most iraportant to him in the world — that relating to his
soul and its salvation. "The tears," said the chaplain,
"were in his eyes, and his lips were trembling with emotion.
I knew he was in earnest. We immediately retired to a se
cluded valley in the woods, and I prayed with him and for
hira, and he prayed for himself, with great propriety and
fervor. Shortly afterward, during another interview which
we had together, light broke upon his darkness. The peni
tent felt that the burden of guilt unforgiven was gone, that

THE LOG CHURCH. 49
he had found the peace which comes frora faith in the
Redeemer; and, wishing to declare his attachraent to Christ)
he asked to be baptized by immersion. I told his cap
tain," said the brother; "and he, though a wicked fellow,
assented to ray request of h.aving us pass the lines to a
convenient place in a river close at hand, where the ordi
nance could be administered."
" And may not I and ray men go along ? " inquired the
captain. " Certainly," said Chaplain Cotton, and at a short notice
they went. The scene was a most solemn one, and, as the
baptism was corapleted, there was not a dry eye amonggt
all the men of the company. " That man has courage to
go anywhere or do anything that is right," said a bystander;
" and a regiment composed of raen like hira would be, like
Havelock^s Highlanders, invincible to all opposition."

vn. THE LOG CHURCH.
The account which follows is frora the Rev. Mr. Alvord,
whose self-denying labors for the soldier have so endeared
his name to the hearts of all good people. The incident
occurred in Virginia, during the carapaign under General
Burnside. It was a coraraunication sent to one of the
publications of the American Tract Society.
There are no chapel tents now, and everything has to
be done usuaUy in the open air, where but two or three
can be gathered together. The chaplains and other Chris
tian men are not inclined to spend rauch time in erecting
any perraanent buildings, as the army is constantly liable to
raove. But certain boys of the New York Twenty-fourth
(who have no chaplain), deterrained that they would have
a better place for their meetings. They had been held
6

50 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.
hitherto, as one of thom said, by the side of a stump.
Two of them especially, although only privates, seemed
alraost inspired on the subject. They obtained permission
of the colonel to build a cabin of logs. These had to be
drawn a mile, trimined, framed, and piled up. The dimen
sions were to be sixteen by thirty-two feet, sufficiently
large to hold a hundred and sixty persons.
The first logs were heavy, and hardly any one helped
them. Their plan at first was not very definite. They
would lay down a log, and then look and plan by the eye.
Another log was then wearily drawn and placed on the
)! other. To raost of their comrades, the affair gave occa
sion only for jests and merriment. "Are you to have it
finished before the world ends?" they asked. "Are you
fi.xing up to leave?" "How does your saloon get on?"
Even the more serious felt pity for them, rather than sym-
p.athy. There was already an order out to move. "What
is the use?" "Who wants meetings now?" But these
two Christian soldiers (S. and L.) toiled on like Noah amidst
the scoffs of the multitude. The edifice slowly rose; volun
teers lent a hand. The Christian raen of the regiment,
forty or fifty in all, became interested ; some of them at
length aided in the work. The structure reached at last
a proper height ; and a roof of brush first, .and then of
patched ponchos having been put on, the meeting began,
— or rather they began when it was only an open pen.
In a few days, Burnside's advance took place, and the
regiment left for the field.
In their absence, plunderers stripped the cabin, and car
ried off a portion of its raaterial; but on the return of our
troops, the same busy hands and hearts of faith were again
at work. A sutler gave them the old canvas cover of his
large tent, which he was about to cut up to serve as a shelter
for his horses, and lo, it precisely fitted the roof of the

THB LOG CHURCH. 51
meeting-house, — not an inch to spare! This was drawn
over the neat rafters and lashed at the edges, raaking a
transparency by day, and refieeting the light raost pleasantly
by night. The boys, when they saw this, thought it almost
a miracle ; and were hardly less pleased when the door,
with its latch and string, was fitted so nicely in its place.
But they had no lock as yet to preserve the interior
of their house frora depredations, and when, having in
quired and sent everywhere for one in vain, they were out
for their last load of poles for benches,- they had to tell me
how, just upon their pathside in the forest, a lock was found
with a key in it, all ready to be fitted to their door ! I
thought rayself it was a little strange, that far out here
in Virginia, at such a tirae, an article of this description, by
just these eyes, should have been discovered. But I con
cluded that the God who had helped these feeble workmen
to build his house could help them finish it.
Well, there it stands, a monument to his glory, and the
credit of their perseverance. You should have seen their
eyes shine, as, here in my tent for tracts, they were one
day giving rae its history, and you should have been with us
last evening. The little pulpit from which I spoke is raade
of erapty box boards. Two chandeliers hang suspended
from the ridgepole of cross sticks, wreathed with ivy, and
in the socketed ends are four adamant candles, each burning
brilliantly. Festoons of ivy and ' dead raen's fingers ' (a
species of woodbine called by this narae) are looped grace
fully along the sides of the roora, andin the centre, stretch
ing from chandelier to chandelier; — the effect not slightly
increased by the contrast of the deep green of the rich
vegetation with the fine brown bark of the pine logs, and
of the white canvas above, striped and interlaced with the
rafters. Below, a dense pack of soldiers in the Avengers' ^
1 So called in memory of Colonel EUsworth, who was killed at Alexandria.

52 MEMORIALS OP THB WAR.
uniform sat crouching upon the pole seats, beneath which
was a carpet of evergreen sprays; — all silent, uncovered,
respectful. As the service opened, you could have heard a
pin fall. There was nothing here to raake a noise. Pew-
doors, psalra-books, rustling silks, or groined arches, rever
berating the slightest sound of hand or footfall, there were
none. Only the click of that wooden latch and a gliding
figure, like a stealthy vidette, creeping in araong the com-
raon raass, indicated the late comer. The song went up
from the deep voices of men, — do you know the effect? —
and before our service closed, tears rolled down fi'om the
faces of hardy warriors. To be brief, every evening
of the week, this house is now filled with men brought
together, four times out of seven for reUgious objects.
When they can have no preaching, the soldiers themselves
meet for prayer.
I stole in one evening lately, when they were at these
devotions. Prayer after prayer successively was offered in
earnest, humblest tones, before rising frora their knees; those
not worshippers were intent on the scene. Officers were
present and took part in the service, and seldom have I
seen such manifest tokens that God is about to appear in
power. No opposition is shown. The whole regiment
look upon the. house now as a matter of pride ; they en
courage all the meetings.
The house is attractive to visitors, and when not used
for religious purposes is occupied for lyceum debates, musi
cal concerts, and the like. It is easy to imagine how much
these two Christian laborers enjoy the success of their
work. One of them said to me, " We have been paid for
all our labor a thousand tiraes over."

THE SILENT PEAYEE. 53

Tin. THE BLIND SOLDIEE.
Among the men at the New England Rooms, in New
York, (says a visitor to that place,) is one from Michigan.
He was shot in the head at Malvern Hill, and the optic
nerve was carried away, so that he has become stone-blind.
He is now well, in his general health, but will never see again.
He is one of the happiest raen in the land. He is a person
of cheerful, but open and decided piety. " Happy as the
day is long," has its literal and expressive raeaning as ap
plied to hira. It is delightful to listen to him as he speaks
of what he did for the old flag while he could see, and still
raore to observe how he strives to be useful still since his in
jury, in such ways as he can. He feels his way from couch
to couch, drops, as he moves along, fitting words of sympa
thy and counsel, cheers up the despondent, and makes the
heart glad. Those connected with the rooms assure me,
(says this visitor,) that the tone of his happy speech, and
pious resignation, impress all who have an op23ortunity to
see and hear hira.

IX. THE SILENT PRAYER.
An officer reports, that a little druramer-boy was on
board one of the transport ships which conveyed his regi
raent to Fortress Monroe, At the close of the first day,
just at evening, the little fellow, overcome by the fatigues
of the day, laid himself down upon the deck, and fell
asleep. The night was chilly and the dews were falling.
The colonel came along and shook him by the shoulder,
and told hira he would take cold if he continued to lie
there, and advised hira to go below and go to his rest for
6*

54 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.
the night. As he was getting up, his Bible fell out of his
pocket upon the deck. He picked it up and replaced it.
Some kind hand, perhaps a mother or a Sunday-school
teacher had given him that Bible.
He went below, and prepared himself for his bed.
When ready, he kneeled down, and, though raany loud-
talking men were standing about, put his hands together
in the attitude of prayer, and poured out his heart sUently
to God. He heeded not the noise around him. In a
moraent all was hushed. The company, as if overawed by
the conduct of the boy, reverently stood silent untU he
had finished his prayer. It was one of the scenes of earth
on which angels pause to look down with interest.

X. foote's farewell to his sailors.
This gallant officer, who had long been suffering from
the effect of a wound, was obliged at length to seek a tem
porary release frora his coraraand. The parting from his
men and the introduction to them of his successor took
place on board the Benton, the fiag-ship of the Mississippi
flotilla, in May, 1862. The remarks which he made on
that occasion (we profess to give only the general tenor
of thera) present him to us as a raan of the sternest loyalty,
and yet able, by his courtesy and Christian raildness, to
bind to himself, as " with hooks of steel," the hearts of
those who shared the perils and honors of his naval
achievements. He said, —
"Officers and men : It has now become ray painful duty
to inforra you that I am about to leave you, though I trust
only for a short time. Comraodore Davis, who is here
before you, has been appointed ray successor, and is the
man whom I proposed to the government as the one above

foote's farewell to his sailors. 55
all others best fitted to relieve me of my charge. He has
talent, and scientific as well as naval ability, and, as he has
borne hitherto au unsullied name, will, I doubt not, main
tain it in future.''
Turning then to Mr. Davis, and pointing to the officers
around him, he said, "These gallant officers, — men of
the East, West, North, South, and of foreign climes, —
who now stand before you, are men on whom you can
depend in any emergency. I have tried them, one and all,
and know what I say ; and although they raay never
receive the reward due to their gallant and raanly bearing,
we have, at least, the proud satisfaction of knowing that
we have done our duty. The iraprovising of a squadron
like this without means at all adequate to the work has
been our greatest labor ; it has cost raore effort than our
signal victories when we have raet the eneray face to face.
Providence has seen fit to afflict me in this hour of our
triumph, just as the great work begins to be crowned with
success. But I trust I may regain ray faUing strength in
body and raind, and be enabled to rejoin you. The painful
duty is now over. I wish I was able to introduce you
singly to each officer ; but (affected to tears as he spoke) I
ara too weak."
He attempted to perform that courtesy, but could not
proceed. Captain Phelps relieved him by mentioning the
officers by name to Comraodore Davis. Pointing then to
the seamen, the flag-officer continued : " These raen, too, you
can depend upon in any emergency. If they have any
fault, they are but too anxious to go into a fight ; they will
never surrender to the enemy. Unless you hold them
back, they will be ahead of you in reaching the post
of danger. They can run faster than I can, you see,"
casting his eyes to his wounded foot. " Officers and men,
one and all, farewell."

56 MEMORIALS OP THE WAE.
At the close of these reraarks, the brave old commodore
was assisted on board of the steam-packet De Soto, bound
for Cincinnati, the officers and crew of the Benton gazing
with tender sympathy toward him, as if he had been to
each one of them his best and nearest friend. Some min
utes were occupied in starting, and the comraodore was
placed in a chair on the upper deck of the De Soto. As
he looked at the Benton, says an eye-witness, and saw the
many familiar faces that fixed their kind eyes upon him so
earnestly, his trembling hand frequently sought his quiver
ing lip, and it was evident that he was struggling hard to
control his feelings. But nature prevailed, and the brave
officer covered his wan face with a fan which he held, to
protect hiraself against the heat, and wept like a chUd.
As the steamer left the flag-ship, three loud, long, and ring
ing cheers were given by the crew. The comraodore stood
up on his crutches as the De Soto raoved up the broad
Mississippi, and with treraulous voice said, " God bless you
all ! Heaven knows how hard it is for rae to leave you !
Better and braver men than you never trod a deck. I
would much rather stay with you and die with you than
go away. But ray duty to ray country compels me to
yield to stronger, though I hope not more willing, hands.
God bless you, ray br.ave raen, — God bless you all ! "
There was hardly one on the deck whose eyes were not
filled with tears while the coraraodore spoke, and old tars
that had braved the frozen horrors of the Northern seas
and the plagues of the tropics, that had doubled the Horn
again and again, and sailed under the equator," and touched
at every prominent land-point on the globe, stood in the
hot sun, with hotter tears upon their cheeks, raelted into
tenderness at the thought of parting frora their brave old
coramander, whom they had learned to love so weU.
At Hickman, Madison, Cairo, and other places, the citi-

THE soldiee's geeatbst fbae. 57
zens crowded down to the wharves to cheer the gaUant
commodore on his way.*

XI. THE SOLDIEE S GREATEST FEAE.
A scene with which every hamlet and neighborhood in
the land are^ now sadly farailiar suramoned us to the old
church. A coffin covered with the- stars and stripes, in
front of the pulpit, contained all that remained on earth
of one whora we had known and loved. He was a young
man whose noble traits of character had drawn to him
many hearts. Only two years before, he had stood in this
very aisle, making a public profession of the religion of
Jesus. A Christian can best afford to be a fearless soldier, for
he can look danger and death in the face. Williara, the
subject of this notice, did so. He had been in raany bat
tles. He always stood his ground like a true hero. But
there was one thing of which this youth, whora the last
conqueror only had vanquished, was afraid. He was
afraid he should disgrace his Christian profession by yield
ing to teraptation in an unhappy moment. The burden of
his requests as he wrote to his parents, was, " Pray for rae ;
1 It was not the wlU of Proridence that this brave and good man should fulfil
the hope expressed by him, of rejoining the companions in arms to whom he ad
dressed tills farewell. He repaired to Washington, and for more than a year,
by his advice and cooperation, rendered invaluable aid to the naval department,
with the aifairs of which he was so thoroughly conversant. But he was needed
for more active service, and at the earliest moment of apparent convalescence,
was appointed commander of the fleet engaged in the attack on Port
Sumter and Charleston. The most important results were hoped for from his
unquestioned ^uU and bravery. He had reached New York on his way to the
South, when suddenly he was taken ill there, and died on the 2Gth of June, 18G3.
Hardly any one has appeared on the stage of action during the war more dis.
tinguished for the highest qualities of the patriot, hero, and Christian, than Ad
miral Foote, ^

58 MEMORIALS OF THB WAE.
my temptations are many. Pray for me that I may over
come." But WiUiara's days were nurabered. He was attacked
by a fatal disease, and borne as far as Rhode Island, where
his father, who belonged to Massachusetts, was summoned
to come to hira. He hastened to the expected place of
interview. Here, as the father looked round on a company
of sick and wounded soldiers, he inquired, with searching,
saze, " Where is William ? "
"That is ray narae," answered a feeble voice.
Who shall attempt to describe that last fond meeting
between father and son ? At length the father found voice
to say, " I see, my son, how it is as to the body ; but how
as to the temptations about which you wrote to us ? Have
you been able to overcome ? "
" Oh, yes, father, I have not put the intoxicating cup to my
lips once ; I have fallen into no open sin since I left home."
As he sleejjs beneath the flag he loved and defended, we
seem to bear a voice from heaven, saying, "Blessed are the
dead who die in the Lord ; for they rest from their labors,
and their works do follow thera." " To hira that o\'er-
cometh will I grant to sit with me in ray throne, even as I
also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his
throne." xn. SORROW IN THE HOMESTEAD.'
I was called last week, (writes one ofthe array chaplains,
Rev. Mr. Bass,) to bury a young raan aged about twenty-one
years, George Van Schaick, son of Rev. Mr. Van Schaick,
of IJnacfiUa, N. Y. He was a noble youth. In. the tent, in
the carap, in his duties, or recreations, he demeaned hiraself
as a Christian. He was a friend to his chaplain, and many
were the pleasant hours we have spent together in friendly

SORROW IN THE HOMESTEAD. 5&
conversation and social worship. He helped to sustain and
give character to the nightly raeetings at the chaplain's
tent. Though he shrank frora no duty, he was raodest and
unassuming in his manners. I loved hira, delighted to see
his open, cheerful countenance, and to hear his voice in.
prayer and praise in our solemn assemblies. He was sick
but one short week. I sat at his bedside, day after day, to
hear his words of confiding trust in the wisdora and mercy of
his God. Death to hira had no sting ; the grave had lost
its power. It is true his thoughts turned often to the old
horaestead, to his aged parents, his sisters, and brothers,
and friends ; but Jesus, the love of the S.aviour, and the
consolations of his rich grace, were chief in his thoughts
and on his tongue. The day before his death, he expressed
a wish that I should write to his father for hira. "Tell
him," said he, "I have not forgotten his counsels and
prayers, and my own dedication to God. Tell hira I feel
prepared for any event; — if I live, I will glorify God on
earth, and if I die, I will praise hira in heaven." So the
pastor's son breathed his last araid sorrowing friends, on
Friday, at four o'clock, a. m., with faith and joy steadfast
to the end.
But the doraain of " tearful " war extends beyond the
carap and the battle-field. Heaven gained in this instance
a happy spirit, but there was sorrow in the homestead.
The pain and anguish of these days are felt by survivors,
as well as by those who suffer in hospitals, or yield up
their Uves amid the shock of arras. Thousands of be
reaved households, at this moment, know the meaning of
the poet's words : —
" Not on the tented field,
0 terror-fronted War!
Not on 'the battle-field.
All thy bleeding victims are.

60 MEMOEIALS OF THB WAE.
" But in the lowly homes
Where soitow broods like death.
And fast the mother's sobs
Eise with each qnick-drawn breath, -
" As sick with pining pain
She moves from room to room,
As each familiar sight
Pierces her sotil like dQom : —
" A coat upon the wall, —
Sorae book he loved to read, —
0 cmel, cruel War !
Here, too, thy victims bleed.
" To see that fair yonng form
Crushed by the war-horse tread,
The dear and bleeding form
Stretched by the piled-up dead —
" That dimmed eye, fainting close —
And she may not be nigh !
'Tis mothers die — 0 God!
'Tis but we mothers die."

XIII. LAST INTERVIEW OF THE HEROES.
WhUe at Gettysburg, (says a visitor to that place,) I
learned the following incident from the lips of Professor
Stoever. At the close of the bloody battles of the second
and third of July, while thousands of the soldiers were
lying wounded side by side, and before even the officers
could seek out and speak to their bleeding and dying
friends, the comraand carae to pursue the flying Confeder
ates. Major General Howard, at the head ofthe Eleventh
Array Corps (who has been called the Havelock of the
American army), hastened to the bedside of Captain
Griffeth of his staff, between whom and the general a
strong personal attachment existed, to take his last fare.
weU. He closed the door, and after a brief interchange

JESnS WILL TAKE ME HOME. 61
of sympathies, the general took his New Testament and
read to him the fourteenth chapter of John. The consolatory
words have been often heard at the bed of the dying,
giving strength to the soul for the last conflict : "Let not your
heart be troubled : ye believe in God, believe also in rae.
In my Father's house are raany raansions : if it were not
so, I would have told you ; I go to prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again,
and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye
raay be also."
The general then knelt in prayer, and coramended his
wounded friend to the compassionate God and Father of
all those who trust in Him, and, rising from his knees,
clasped him in one long, fond, weeping embrace. Thus
the heroes parted. One went to pursue the Rebels against
his government. The other died, in a few days, in perfect
peace, cordially acquiescing in God's will, and firmly rely
ing on the raerits of his Saviour.

XIV. JESUS WILL TAKE ME HOME.
When Colonel Herman Canfield was wounded at the
battle pf Pittsburg Landing, knowing that his wound
would be fatal, he expressed a wish to his young brother-
in-law that he might be taken to his home and faraily.
But as the battle raged, the enemy pressed upon thera, so
that they were in momentary fear of being made prisoners.
The surgeon, chaplain, and others who were looking after
the wounded, were taken and borne away. Strange as it
raay appear, the two relatives were left unmolested. Alone
and in such a condition, the moraent was one of anxiety
and of trial to thera both. His brother-in-law was not able,
without aid, to convey hira to a place of safety ; and he
6

62 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE.
expressed a fear that he should not be able to comply with
his request. To this apprehension, the colonel calmly re
pUed, " Never mind, Charley, Jesus will take rae horae."
Oh ! what childlike trust, what Christian faith, is there
expressed! Having lived near to God, and long trusted in
his sure promises, he had no doubts uow. He knew that
the Lord of hosts was present on the battle-field as well as
in the peaceful horae. As he lay there, with his life-blood
ebbing frora a ghastly wound in his lungs, he testified of
the goodness of God, and showed with what fearlessness a
Christian raay yield his soul to him who gave it.
At last assistance arrived, and the wounded raan was
borne on a stretcher through low, marshy defiles, and over
rough, pathless woodland, toward the Tennessee. At
night they encamped upon its bank. It was the last night
he passed upon earth ; a dark and fearful one it was to his
companions. A storm raged about them. The very ele
ments seeraed pouring forth their sad requieras for the
dying and the dead. During the vivid fiashes of lightning,
they had glirapses of the agonized features of their loved
coramander. And raany were their anxious inquiries; but
he assured them that though his physical sufferings were
great, his soul was at peace with God, and he knew he
soon would be at rest. Doubtless, he caught glirapses of
that brighter world where darkness and death cannot
enter because God is the light and life thereof What
that brave soldier and true Christian suffered during that
night of agony, none but God can know. He did not
murraur at his fate, and thought not his life too great a
sacrifice for the cause in which he feU.
The following day he was reraoved to a hospital ship,
where his wounds were carefully dressed. But he grad
ually grew weaker until evening; when, leaving tender

THE STORY OP NOLAN. 63
messages for his loved wife and children, he calmly coni-
mitted his soul to God, and Jesus took him home.

XV. THE STOEY OP NOLAN.
The Rev. Dr. Marks, after one of the battles on the
Peninsula, in which sorae of our men were captured, gave
himself up as a prisoner to the rebels, that he raight not
be separated frora those over whora he watched as a relig-
'ious guide. On one occasion, he went to the Brackett
House, on the battle-field, where were four hundred and
fifty of our wounded men. The fiag of the country was
printed on one of the publications which he was distribut
ing ; and he mentions that he often saw those mutilated men
lift it to their lips, and kiss the emblera of our nationality,
undeterred by the presence and taunts of the eneray.
There was one reraarkable man in that group of sufferers
whose story, as recounted by this gentleman, deserves to be
told from one age to another. His narae was Nolan. His
right leg had been cut off by a cannon-shot, and he was
lying in the midst of fifty or sixty men in one of the rooms.
As I came up to hira, I saw that his face was beam
ing with smiles, and, frora his appearance, I could not have
supposed for a raoraent that there was a single pang of
pain in that body. I asked him how he had endured
his suffering. He said, " I was three days and three nights
out on the battle-field, and all that tirae heard the whisper
ings of angels, and I only could look up to the stars and
think every one of them sang to me. The question of ray
own personal safety, as a believer in Christ, was settled six
years ago ; and now I want that all my friends should feel
as I do." And then there would burst forth from his lips
that sweet song, —

64 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
" Jesns, my God, I know his name,
His name is aU my tmst ;
Nor wiU he put my soul to shame.
Nor let my hope be lost."
And this man, even in the midnight hour, wonld he sing
ing, and comforting those poor men around hira. Subse
quently he was carried to Richmond, a prisoner. I fol
lowed my charge to that city. And as I was one day pass
ing through the great hall of the prison, where some four
hundred men were lying, in their wounds and agony, cover
ing every inch of the floor, as I stepped over one lacerated
limb and another, and looked down into their burning eyes,
I heard that song again, sweeter and sweeter, and more
and raore distinct. At length I found ray way to the
singer, and it was the sarae raan, stUl singing, —
"Jesus, my God, I know his name."
And so he coraforted the hundreds of raen about him, to
whora he could not go, and silenced their murmurs and
stilled their groans, by this hyran.
Afterward it was thought by the physician that he must
die, and it was told to Nolan.
I said to him, " It is very probable that to-day you will
be called to appear before God, and stand with the great
Father before the divine throne."
"Blessed be God!" he said. "I shaU be detailed from
the battle-field to go up and be with Jesus forever;
detaUed to dwell in the world of light and glory ; detailed
to be wounded and to bleed and to die no more. But,"
he continued, " doctor, I am not going to die to-day. -I feel
that I shall live to go away from this place."
And through that hour of great danger the man did live
by the joy of his soul, and afterward was carried to Fort
ress Monroe. I heard from a soldier afterward, that there
he was stUl singing as before, and that subsequently he was

SUDDENLY AT REST. 65
removed thence to Washington, and there died, and went
up unto the bosom of his Saviour.

XVI. THE DYING HAND ON THB BIBLE.
On the same battle-field, (says this devoted chaplain,) I
remeraber that as I went to a spot where many of our
wounded soldiers were lying, I came to the side of a man
who was just dying. I folded his hands together, and told
him to look up to the Lamb of God that taketh away the
sin of the world, and before I had done praying he was
gone. I stooped down and lifted up a Bible that he held
in his hand, when he died, that I might find the name of
the raan who had departed, and raight bear to his friends
the testiraony that his hand, as he relinquished his hold on
life, was resting on the Word o£ God.
A soldier by his side said, " Sir, do not take the Bible
away. The print is plainer than my own, and I wish to
read it. My friend here and myself read the Bible to
gether through the long hours of the night. We prayed
together, and now he has only gone a step before rae
into the good kingdom. I shaU soon be there. I want
to read it until my eyes becorae too dira to see any raore."
I said to him that I did not wish to take away the Bible.
I found that this man was likewise sustained by a sense of
the Saviour's presence. He felt that it was nothing — yes,
nothing — to die, supported as he was by the peace and
joy of conscious reconcUiation to God.
XVII. SUDDENLY AT EEST.
One of the Second Regiment of the Rhode, Island Vol
unteers, while he was resting for a moment during a lull in
6*

66 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.
the battle of BuU Run, was seen to t!ike a Testament from
his pocket. He was in the act of reading it as a ball struck
him, and he fell dead. He was a man of established char
acter as a Christian. His life testified that he was mindful
of the charge, " Watch, for ye know not what hour your
Lord doth come." He was caUed avvay at the raoraent his
eye rested on the proraise made to those who "fight a good
fight, who have kept the faith." In a raoraent, in the twink
ling of an eye, he was at rest in heaven. He was one of
those for whom the Master had in reserve sorae better
thinar.

XVni. SUCH AUE MINISTERING SPIRITS.
Perhaps in no sphere of effort relating to the War have
more self-denial and true benevolence been manifested
than in the hospital labors performed by Christian women,
who have devoted theraselves in all parts of the land to
the care of our wounded, sick, and dying soldiers. A vol
urae should be written to preserve the remembrance of such
services. The following sketch, in the Chicago New Cove
nant, illustrates the spirit of this class of laborers.
I cannot, says the writer, close this letter frora Cairo
without a passing word in regard to one whose name is
mentioned by thousands of our soldiers with gratitude and
blessing. Miss Mary Safford is a resident of this town,
whose life, since the beginning ofthe war, has been devoted
to the amelioration of the soldier's lot and his comfort in
the hospital. She is a young ladj, petite iu figure, unpre
tending, but highly cultivated, by no raeans officious, and
so wholly unconscious of her exceUences and the great
work that she is achieving that I fear this public allusion
to her raay pain her raodest nature. Her sweet, young face,

SUCH AEE MINISTEEING SPIEITS. 67
full of benevolence, her pleasant voice and winning raanner,
^itaU her in every one's heart directly; and the raore one
s«s of her, the raore they admire her great soul and her
noble nature. Not a day elapses but she is found in the
hospitals, unless indeed she is absent on an errand of mercy
up the Tennessee, or to the hospitals in Kentucky.
Every sick and wounded soldier in Cairo knows and
loves her, and, as she enters the ward, every pale face
brightens at her approach. As she passes along, she in
quires of each one how he has passed the night, if he is
well supplied with books or tracts, and if there is anything
she can do for him. All tell her their story frankly, — the
man old enough to be her father, and the boy of fifteen,
who should be out of the army and at home with his
mother. > For one, she raust write a letter to his friends at horae ;
she raust sit down and read at the cot of another ; must
procure, if the doctor will allow it, this or that article of
food for a third ; must soothe and encourage a fourth, who
desponds and is ready to give up his hold on life ; must
pray for a fifth, who is afraid to die, and wrestle with hira
till Ught shines through the dark valley; — and so on,
varied as raay be the personal or spiritual wants of the
sufferers. Doctors, nurses, raedical directors, and array officers, are
all her true friends; and so judicious and trustworthy is
she, that the Chicago Sanitary Coraraission have given her
carte blanche to draw on their stores at Cairo for anything
she raay need in her errands of raercy. She is performing
a noble work, and that too in the most quiet and uncon
scious manner.

MEMOEIALS OP THE WAE.

XIX. THB FIRST SABBATH IN CAMP.
The soldiers sent to Ship Island, at the mouth of the
Mississippi, were chiefly frora New England. They consti
tuted the nucleus of the force, which, after a few raonths,
bombarded the forts at the entrance of that river, and cap
tured the city of New Orleans.
On the first Sunday after the landing of the troops, the
ordinary railitary labor was intermitted, and the day
observed, as far as possible, in a religious raanner. The
Ninth Connecticut Regiment, under Colonel Cahil, con
sisted largely of Catholics, and raass was celebrated in the
carap on the forenoon of this first Sabbath. The service
was attended by raany of the sailors and raarines frora the
fort, and from vessels in the harbor.
In the afternoon, the Twenty-sixth Regiment gathered
en masse in front of their quarters, when Colonel Jones,
taking a sand hillock for a pulpit, perforraed divine service.
After the reading of selections of Scripture, a choir, selected
from the rank and file of the regiment, sang a hymn, and
the band played an appropriate piece. Colonel Jones, in
the absence of the chaplain, Rev. Mr. Babbage, then rose
and addressed the men. He said he had never approached
a duty when he felt so embarrassed as then. He regretted
that he raust take the place of one so rauch raore worthy
than hiraself They had been accustomed to observe
the Sabbath at home ; they needed its salutary influences
there, and he knew of no better means for securing them
than such a service. He warned them of their dangers,
urged upon them their duties, and assured thera that if
they obeyed the truth, without regarding the channel
through which it raight come to thera, they wc uld be bene
fited and saved by it.

THE FIEST SABBATH IN CAMP. 69
As an accompaniment to the solemn service, and re
minding us, says the narrator, that we .are in a state of war,
the gunboat " New London," across the sound, was engag
ing the enemy, and the booming of cannon was mingled
with the notes of prayer and praise. It seemed a fitting
inauguration of the great enterprise. The scene was im
pressive. The speaker 'spoke to the hearts of the listeners.
The allusion to those distant homes in New England
brought tears to eyes not accustomed to weep.

CHAPTER III.
COURAGE PROMOTED BY TRUST IN GOD.

I. A MESSAGE FROM THB BIBLE.
In the course of the first year of the present war, the
rebels raade an attack ui3on one of our regiments doing
picket duty on the Maryland side of the Potoraac. There
were three houses standing upon the Virginia shore which
afforded shelter to the enemy, and it becarae necessary to
have thera removed. The colonel tried the effect of shell
ing them, but, owing to the short range of his guns and
the great distance, could not demoUsh them. The only
thing accomplished by this was driving the eneray out of
them to the shelter of the woods beyond.
The colonel then asked for voluuteers to cross the
river and burn the buildings. Only two men came forward,
one a private, the other an orderly sergeant. The colonel
gave the comraand to the sergeant, and told him to select
as many men as he needed and go. Selecting three men
from his own corapany to raanage the boat and assist hira;
the brave fellows departed on their perilous raission. Ere
they reached the raiddle of the streara, they were greeted
with a shower of bullets. Volley followed volley, each
passing over their heads without touching a raan. As they
neared the shore, the house imraediately in front of thera,
wlfich was a large brick one, offered thera shelter for land
ing; and it was not many rainutes after ere the sraoke
issuing frora the roof showed their work was accoraplished
70

A WORD SPOKEN IN SEASON. 71
there. The next house was soon in flames also; but the
third stood sorae distance frora the river; to get to it they
must cross a ploughed field directly under the fire of the
musketry. Here, as in crossing the river, they were made
the target for the enemy's bullets. Strange to say, this
"forlorn hope " returned uninjured, and were received with
enthusiastic cheers from their brave comrades.
The young sergeant, upon being compliraented upon his
courage, and interrogated as to the source of it, repUed,
" It is not in rae ; give God the glory. When I started, I
committed ray beloved wife and child to his fatherly care,
should I never return. I breathed a prayer for myself and
the little band with rae. I went further. I entreated that
we might all return in safety ; and as I stepped from that
boat, these words of the ninety-first Psalm came forcibly
to my mind : ' A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten
thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh
thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the
reward of the wicked. Because thou hast raade the Lord,
which is ray refuge, even the Most High, thy habitation,
there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague
come nigh thy dwelling.' I received it as an answer to
my prayer; and though we could hear the bullets whizzing
by, almost touching us, I felt no more fear of them than if
they had been hailstones."

IL A WORD SPOKEN IN SEASON.
It is related that a colonel in the army went to Gover
nor Buckingham, of the State of Connecticut, and asked
him to appoint a godly man, who cared for the souls of men,
as chaplain for his regiment. He said he had observed
that soldiers who were Christians were more reliable than

72 MEMORIALS OF THB WAE.
those who were not; that in the day of battle they were
raore courageous. The governor told hira he would see to
it that he had the services of such a chaplain. After
this proraise the governor said, " Colonel, you manifest
a great interest in the religious welfare of your soldiers.
This is commendable; but have you no concern for the
salvation of your own soul?" This question, so unexpect
edly put to him, gave a new turn to his thoughts. He
was led to see his own neglect of religion, and his in
consistency, as he had never seen them before, and to feel
that the gospel might have claims on hiraself as well as
on others. On returning to his coraraand, he sought the
counsel of a Christian friend, and at length carae to a
settled faith in the Redeemer.
Not long after this result, occurred the bloody battle of
Roanoke,"^ and Colonel Russel, the officer referred to, was
among the dead. He fell at the head of the brave troops
whom he had been anxious to make braver by planting the
fear of God in their hearts. He himself acknowledged to
an acquaintance that those few, faithful words of the gov
ernor were the means of arousing his conscience, and lead
ing him to seek in earnest God's favor. ¦ The timely
admonition, as we have reason to believe, was the Spirit's
instrumentality for preparing him for his sudden departure.

m. MAECH OF THE NBW YOEK SEVENTH TO WASHINGTON.
A raeraber of the New York Seventh Regiraent informs
us how they spent the first Sabbath, on their memorable
journey to Washington. This regiment was the first that
left the city or State of New York, in response to the
summons of the President, after the faU of Fort Sumter.
1 Which was fought under General Burnside, February 8, 1S62.

MARCH OF THE N. Y. SEVENTH TO WASHINGTON. 73
The march occupied several days. The railroad, on the
direct route between PhUadelphia and Baltimore, had been
destroyed by the rebels. Our men were obliged to go by
the way bf Annapolis, and to rebuild those portions of the
road as they proceeded, where the rails had been torn up,
in order to prevent the arrival of succor in time to save
the Capital.
On the Sabbath, at sunrise, says our informant, the
reveiUe beat, and blankets, guns, knapsacks, — everything
was stowed away, and arrangements made to have service
at half-past ten o'clock. An order was hardly necessary
for this purpose, for all seeraed to vie with each other to
keep holy the Sabbath-day. Soon after breakfast, some
three hundred had gathered on the saloon-deck, and were
singing hymns appropriate to the occasion, such as "Guide
rae, O thou great Jehovah," "When I can read my title
clear," and " On Jordan's stormy banks I stand." At half-
past ten the services coramenced, conducted by the chap
lain, Rev. Dr. Weston. Nearly every meraber had brought
with hira a prayer-book or a Testaraent, and all who were
near enough to follow the exercise had thera in use at this
time. It is but truth to say that the Sabbath was passed
as every Sabbath should be, — in honoring God.
.Just as -vfe left Annapolis, most of the boys, at a tera
porary halt, took out their Testaments and read a chapter ;
and I saw a number go aside to offer a prayer that God
would be with us on our eventful journey. I myself was
among the nuraber. When I returned, I oj)ened my Bible
casually at the forty-sixth Psalra, which the boys of Com
pany A requested rae to read aloud. It was certainly very
appropriate. Under the circurastances in which we were placed,
such passages as these seeraed to be written truly fbr our
use and learning : — " God is our refuge and strength ; a
1

74 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE.
very present help in trouble. Therefore wiU not we fear,
though the earth be removed, and though the mountains
be carried into the raidst of the sea. The Lord of Hosts
is with us ; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Be stUl, and
know that I ara God ; I will be exalted araong the heathen,
I will be exalted iu the earth ; the Lord of Hosts is with
us ; the God of Jacob is our refuge."
Such is the spirit in which many of the volunteers have
gone forth to defend their country. The raen who march
by prayer are not the men to retreat in the day of battle,
through cowardice, or a feeble sense of their responsibility,
as the champions of law and liberty.

IV. THE DYING SOLDIER S PRAYER FOR THB PRESIDENT.
In the suraraer of 1862, a private named Scott, who be
longed to the Third Vermont Regiraent, was court-mar
tialled for sleeping on his post, near Chain Bridge, on the
upper Potomac. He was convicted and sentenced to be
shot. The decision was affirmed by the general, and the
day fixed for his execution. The culprit, who had raore
than ordinary strength of character, did not beg for pardon
or complain, but was willing to meet hi^ fate.
The appointed day drew near. The necessity of war
required an example, and this case was thought to be an
aggravated one. But the circumstances reached the ears
of the President, and he was disposed to show raercy. He
signed a pardon, and sent it to the carap, in the belief that
he had done all that was necessary. Soon the last day
itself arrived. Having heard nothing, the President began
to fear lest the pardon had not reached its destination.
The telegraph was put in requisition, but no answer was
received. There was not a moment to lose. " Bring up

THB DYING SOLDIEr's PRAYER. 75
my carriage," he ordered. The carriage carae; the irapor
tant state papers were laid aside, and, beneath the hot, broil
ing sun and over dusty roads, he rode to the carap, distant
about ten railes, and ascertained for himself that the matter
was safe. The pardon was not raade known to the soldier,
till he had already kneeled down upon his coffin, and the
executioners with loaded rauskets were awaiting the order
to fire. None excejjt a few officers knew that he was to
be reprieved.
The President raay have forgotten the occurrence, but
the grateful soldier did not forget it. At the battle of
Lee's Mdls, near Yorktown, on the 16th of April, a divis
ion of the Vermont troops was ordered to cross a stream
and attack a strong work of the insurgents on the other
side. As the Third Vermont charged upon the rifle-
pits here, they were raet by a deadly volley frora the
rebels. The first raan who fell was WUliam Scott of
company K, whose life the President's clemency had
spared. Six bullets pierced his body. His comrades
caught him up, from the ground, and ,as his life-blood ebbed
away, he exclaimed. "Bear witness, I have proved myself
not a coward, and am not afraid to die ; " and, then, amid
the groans of the dying, and the shouts of the enemy,
with his last breath, he raised to heaven a prayer for the
President. He was interred in the presence of his regiment, in a
little grove, about two railes in the rear of the rebel fort.
The grave was dug in the centre of a group of holly and
vines, with cherry-trees then in blossora on the outer cir
cle. In turning up the earth, a skull aud other bones, and
several raetal buttons were found, showing that this identi
cal spot had been used in the Revolutionary War, for the
burial of those who fell in like manner as martyrs for their
country. The chaplain related the history of young Scott

76 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.
to the boys, as they stood with uncovered heads around
the grave. Of the President's noble conduct he spoke in
fitting terms of admiration.
The mUitary offence of the brave soldier, was not with
out its mitigation. It was found that he had been on duty
two nights in succession ; had served voluntarUy the second
night for a sick corarade, and on the third had been over-
corae by sleep. Shortly before he enlisted, he had avowed
himself a disciple of Christ, in Groton, his native town,
and, according to good testimony, had lived a consistent life
while in camp. It was his possession of the " hope which
is as an anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast," that made
him so willing to suffer the penalty of the daw, and van
quished his fears of death at the last moraent.'

V. A SCENE IN THE LOG CHURCH.
A scene which Mr. Alvord raentions as having taken
place in the log-church ^ belongs to this class of our Ulus
trations. On a certain evening (he says), when we had raet there
for worship, I was surprised to see the colonel of the regi
ment enter, and seat himself araong the boys on the rude
benches. He buried his face in both his hands. The
soldiers rose one after another, and spoke of their happy
experience in the new Ufe. They declared their purpose
to serve God, and requested prayers that others would
remember them, that they might not falter, but be
strengthened for every trial of faith and courage before
thera. Erelong, the colonel, to ray astonishment, spr.ang
to his feet, — his figure tall, soldier-like, imposing. He
1 I have added this statement respecting his religious character from an au
thentic source.
2 See page 49,

A SCENE IN THB LOG CHURCH. 77
folded his arms upon his broad chest, and began very de
liberately to say to the soldiers, "I am here to-night where,
as your mUitary commander, I should be ; and I ara here
especially to say to you two things to which I want you to
listen. The first is, if I fall in the battle we are about to
fight, I want you to remember rae, fellow-soldiers, not as a
gallant military officer, but as a humble. Christian raan."
It seeras he had been a raeraber of one of the churches in
New York, but after joining the array had not made hira
self known as a decided follower of Christ. "I want you,"
said he (dwelling on the sarae thought), "if I should fall,"^
to reraember me as a hurable Christian. Do not talk of
me as a gallant comraander, but think of rae and speak of
me as having died a soldier of the cross. And then," he
continued, " fellow-soldiers, there is another thing I want to
testify to, and that is, that my raen, whora I see here around
me in this meeting, are the raen whom I have never known
to flinch in battle. My eye falls upon the bravest of my reg
iraent to-night."
A rustle was heard through the cabin and a murraur
frora the boys, as he said this; for their hearts were
strengthened by such testimony. And then, after a few
more words, he said, "Let us pray;" and he poured
out his soul to God for hiraself, for his fellow-officers, for
his regiraent, for his country, for the battle to corae, and
closed with a hearty "Araen!" to which response was
made by all in the house.
1 They were then on the eve of the battle of Fredericksburg in Virginia.

78 MEMORIALS OF THB WAE.

VI. PEAYEE IN TIME OF BATTLE.
It is a coraraon saying ofthe officers (adds Mr. Alvord), that
as a class, the raen who stand firmest when the battle rages
are the Christian raen. Many is the tirae I have talked with
thera about such scenes, and they have told me that their
souls have stood firm in that hour of strife, and that they
have been perfectly calm. I have had Christian generals
tell me this. I have heard General Howard often say, that
in the midst of the most terrific portion of the battle,
when his heart for a raoraent quailed, he would pause and
lift up his soul to God, and receive strength. "And," said
he, "I have gone often through battles without a particle
of fear. I have thought God sent me to defend ray coun
try. I believed it was a Christian duty to stand in the
foreraost of the fight, and why should I be afraid?"
General Howard, who raakes this declaration concerning
himself, has shared in nearly all the severest fighting in
Virginia and Pennsylvania since the beginning of the war,
and bears in his scarred frame marks of his valor, and of
hair-breadth escapes from death. No one can surpass him
in skill and daring; but his highest title is that of a Chris
tian, which he has maintained without reproach or question
in the camp, as well as elsewhere.
The voice of such a man deserves to be heard and
regarded, when, as in the following order, he protests
against a too common -^ce in the army. " I have noticed,"
he says, "with extreme pain, the use of profane oaths and lan
guage among the officers and men of ray coraraand. I need
not reraind any thinking rnan of the vulgarity and raean-
ness of the practice, nor speak of it as a positive violation
of God's law, but will simply appeal to the good sense and
better feelings of the raerabers of my coraraand, and urge

HE AVAS ONLY A PRIVATE. 79
thera, by all they hold dear, to abstain from insulting Him
whose protection they need."

VII. HE WAS ONLY A PRIVATE.
But he was faithful in that sphere : — and every exaraple
is instructive, noble, according to the elevation of the aim
that we strive to reach, the use raade by us of the oppor
tunities at our coraraand, the raanner in which the irapulses
of conscience control a raan, and make him earnest in his
adherence to what is right. The case of Andrew B  ,
therefore, stands high ou the record of faithful witnesses.
We admire the character of the obscure soldier so much
the more, because it was fornsied against adverse influences
and sets forth so clearly the power of that grace of God,
which he is ever ready to give to us to help us in our du
ties and struggles.
The subject of this sketch' was born in Brooklyn, New
York. His parents were not Christians. His own honest
words tell what he was at the beginning.
"When quit*, a child," he says, "I went to a Sunday
school, but soon quit going, and became a bad boy.
Tumbling round the streets with other bad boys, I began
to curse and swear and drink. I went to meeting now
and then, hut only to see what I could see. I did
not like to hear the preaching; it always raade rae
feel so restless and unhappy." After a time, his father
moved down the bay, and "went to oystering," where
Andrew's habits, in some respects, became worse than
ever. If he heard preac^ig, it would alarm him; and
on One occasion he was so distressed that he resolved to
1 It has been compiled from Mr. Alvord's Journal,

80 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
forsake his sins and serve the Lord ; but his good resolu
tions soon vanished, and again he plunged into sin.
At length, one Sabbath evening, he was walking with a
company of young persons to a place of frolic, when, on
passing a church, one of them said, " Corae, let us go in."
They did so, and, as he states, " we had not been there
fifteen minutes before my convictions returned stronger
than before." Near the close of the service, he was in
great distress. "It seeraed to me," — still using his own ex
pressions, — "that, if I did not give ray heart to God then, I
was lost ! There was a dreadful struggle in my feeUngs ;
at length I gave up, and yielded all my heart to the Lord.
Frora that time, I felt happy, and commenced a new life,
working all I could for my Saviour."
He returned after a tirae to Brooklyn, where he " stUl
tried to do his duty." When the Rebellion broke out, he
was among the first to hear the call of his country, and he
enlisted for three years. ,He has suffered much, and been
in raany battles, but, as he says, "I am not tired of serv
ing ray country, and the Lord is still with me."
This young soldier, thus raade a trophy of divine grace,
with very little education, or previous religious advantages,
is here iu the field, an ornament to his profession, and an
example to all who know him. Without having risen to
any rank, being still " a private," he is indeed a soldier of
the cross, true to the Captain of his salvation.
In the regiment, which has now no chaplain, he main
tains a regular weekly prayer-meeting, in addition to occa
sional meetings. On the muster-roll are several professors
of religion, yet no other one in the whole regiment takes
any active part; but Andrew^jiis not discouraged. He
reads and talks and sings and prays. Few attended at
first, but more came, erelong, especially of the officers.
There is an atterapt at ridicule, soraetiraes, but he is proof

HB WAS ONLY A PRIVATE, 81
against it. " When they make a noise," he says, " I feel
ready to sink ; but I throw rayself right into the arras of
Jesus, and I begin to rise and rise till I am lifted above the
tumult. The blessed Spirit coraes and breathes courage
into my heart, and soon the boys are quiet and crowd
around rae, and I have a glorious meeting,"
At the battle of Fredericksburg, Andrew, with his com
rades was in the hottest of the fire. The night before, as
they lay on the bank of the Rappahannock, in expectation
of the carnage of the morrow he summoned them to
prayer. His voice, remarkable for sweetness and melody,
was heard singing his usual call to the raeeting for worship.
Twenty-five or thirty of the raen gathered around him.
He talked to thera " of the salvation which sinners need.
It might be their last tirae. The battle was at hand, with
its certainty of death to so many. As to himself, if such
was God's wUl, he was willing to go ; and he then exhorted
thera all to be prepared for the issue, whether life or death.
"They stood round me in the darkness," says he, "and
listened. I felt the presence of the Spirit, and spoke to
thera twenty rainutes. No one raade fun of me that
night." After singing "Jesus, lover of my souJ,
Let me to thy bosom fly,"
he prayed, and his fellow-soldiers returned..solemnly to their
quarters. After the battle (he escaped unhurt), they lay on the
field all night, close to the enemy, and also during all
the next day. Sorae were wounded, whom he assisted in
any way that he could. It was an awful place. Death
was on every side. On tffi next night, they fell back a
little, to the outskirts of the city ; and again Andrew had
his meeting. He invited a few into a small house, read his

82 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
Bible, sung, and, under such afflictive circumstances, tender
ly addressed those around him. He says, " I was afraid I
should not have another opportunity, and I tried to be
faithful. I could not close with prayer as we were caUed
upon to 'fall in,' and I had to stop the raeeting suddenly."
Thus, this dear youth, the hero of battle-fields, is also the
Christian hero !
A few evenings ago, in the still twUight of the Sabbath,
I heard his voice within the precincts of his regiraent sing
ing, and then in a few earnest words dwelling on the love
of God.
He has his raeetings, not only in carap, but on long
marches. "Right out here in this lot, I had one," said he,
" when we were raarching on." He is also one ofthe most
faithful in the distribution of religious tracts ; he comes
often to my tent for supplies, and before leaving always
wants a season of prayer. Asking him one day how he
found a place where he could pray in secret, he replied, "I
go down into the woods, and especially if I ara to have a
meeting. After that the cross is easy. I enjoy the work
and expeot a blessing.'' He complains of not having time
to go around among his corapanions privately as much as
he could wish, as he raust be often on picket and fatigue
duty, and always ready to fall into the ranks. "It seems
to me," he says, " as if I could draw them to Christ if I
could only get near to them."
Andrew modestly speaks of "a number of conversions."
"One sergeant begins to talk with me as if he had a change
of heart." "I am sure there is raore attention araong the
officers than there Mias. Eight or ten attended my meet
ing last Sabbath. One of the lieutenants, at the close of
the service, came and took iffy hand, saying he felt that
every word I said was true, and told me to go on with the
meeting. Oh, how that encouraged me ! "

EELICS PROM THE BATTLE-FIELD. 83
Let it not be thought that he is less courageous because he
fears God, or faUs in his duty as a soldier because he is
BO active in reUgious things. The very opposite is true, as
what has been related shows. The testimony of the offi
cers is, "He is ready, cheerful under any order; his lion
heart in battle seems ignorant of fear." And why should
it not be so, when he lives so as to be ready for this world
or the' world hereafter? Surely the time cometh when
such a private, though unhonored here, though lowly-born,
shall outrank princes.

VXn. EELICS FEOM THE BATTLE-FIELD.
In the office of Dr. T., of Carabridge, Mass. (says^ visitor
to that place), we were recently shown some very suggest
ive relics from the army of the Southwest. . This Christian
surgeon had been in the hospital at Memphis, Tennessee.
He first laid on the table a skeleton foot and the ankle-.
bones, the latter of which were shattered to splinters by a
Minie ball. It seeraed scarcely possible that a single buU^
could so break in pieces nearly the entire length of bone
frora the knee to the foot. Yet the heroic soldier lived,
and endured all the suffering without a raurraur. By the
side of these fragments Dr. T. laid the fractured heel-
joint of another victim of the demon of war, with the
remark that the case shed light on the question of needless
araputation. The effort to save the lirab cost the raan his
life. When Dr. T. inquired of the dying soldier what
raessage he had to send to his faraily and friends, he re
plied promptly, "TeU th^pi I ara ready to go horae to
thera, home to God or back to the war." These were his
last words. His sense of accountability, his faith in the un
seen and eternal, destroyed every fear except that of fail-
ing to know and perform his duty.

84 MEMOEIALS OF THB WAE.
Another, whose hip was shattered, when asked a similar
question, replied, "Tell them I die as I have lived, triumph
ing in Christ."
Such are some of the relics and the dying utterances
from the plain of conflict for the Republic and its enslaved
raillions. What a history it wUl have can be fully known
only when the record in heaven shall be revealed.

IX. WORDS OF THE MAETYE STEPHEN,
At the bq,ttle of Shiloh (relates one who took part in it),
a young mau of our regiraent was wounded by a rifle-bullet
in the breast, as we v^ere forming in line of battle, and be
fore we had fired upon the enemy. We carried hira back
to a tent in the rear of our position. The surgeon exarained
his wound and whispered to rae that it was raortal. The
soldier overheard what the surgeon said, and replied, " Do
not be anxious for rae ; I ara not afraid to die. Understand
rae; I am not afraid to die. I weut into battle repeating
to myself what Stephen the first Christian martyr said,
'Lord .Jesus, receive my spirit.' I believe he heard my
prayer, and beyond that I have no anxiety."
He was iu such pain that he could uot bear to be raoved
any further, and, as the eneray were driving our troops back
at that tirae, and bullets were whizzing through the tent,
even whUe we were dressing his wound, we were obliged,
after doing what we could for hira, to leave hira on the
spot and hurry away. Shells and cannon-balls were raining
around us as we raade our escape.
We never expected to see our corarade again in this life.
But, to our surprise, he was brought into camp, after having
lain forty-eight hours on the battle-field. The rebels occu
pied that part of the ground nearly all the time after we

THE SOLDIBR-BOY's LAST HYMN, 85
left him, and the Lord put it into their hearts to be very
kind to this young man. They brought him water when the
canteen that we left for him was empty, and, as he said,
" they treated rae as a brother."
He lived two days after he was brought into carap. His
sufferings were very great. But he never coraplained. He
always looked up with a smile when I went into the tent.
His trust was in Jesus; and the Saviour was with him, help
ing hira to bear the pain, and driving away from hira the
fear of death. It was a sad and yet a beautiful sight, to
see the young soldier dying so peacefully in our hospital
tent in the woods of Tennessee.
" Sweet be the death of those
Who for their country die.
Sleep on her bosom for repose.
And triumph where they lie."

X. THB SOLDIBE-BOY'S LAST HYMN.
- In the battle of Fort Donelson there was a lad, fifteen
years old only, who had enlisted as a drumraer. He was
remarkable for a tender conscience, for earnestness of
spirit. He had been accustomed to take an active part in
the meetings for prayer in the camp, and had inspired all
who knew him with the utmost confidence in his intelligence
and sincerity as a Christian disciple. In this fearful battle
he was wounded, having one of his arms shot off close to
the shoulder. An eye-witness reports that when last seen,
this child, as we may almost call him, was sitting, leaning
against a tree, and, as the tide of life was ebbing, from the
loss of blood, his countenance was radiant with joy, while
he sang the hyran, —
" Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee, - ,

86 MEMORIALS OF THE WAB.
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me ;
Still all my song shall be, —
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee."

XI. THE iTEACT — "COME TO JESUS."
A young soldier, having received a package of tracts,
wrote a letter of the foUowing purport to the donor as a
testimony to the value of such publications.
"I have been in the service," he says, "nineteen months.
When I first volunteered for my country, I was wild and
reckless ; but I bless God I was not left long in that con
dition. I had not been in the army over two months,
when I was called to risk my life in the battle of Peach
Mountain, but, happily I was not without a friend in that
trying hour.- I had a brother with me in the sarae company,
who, I believe, was a true Christian. When we .were led
up in line of battle against the enemy, this brother was by
ray side, and whispered these words into ray ear : ' I shall
fall in this battle, but I fall for ray country, and God will
take care of my soul.' This was a true presentiment. The
third round was not fired before I held hira in ray arms,
shot through the breast, but apparently in no pain.
"I shall never forget the words he spoke to me at that
moraent. His first thought was not for hiraself, but his
country, dearer to hira than life. ' Oh,' he exclairaed, 'are
we beaten ? ' I told him. No. ' Leave rae,' he says ; ' go to
your post and fight. It is a good cause, and I ara wUling
to die for it.' He took rae by the hand, and said, ' Hear
my last words, brother : Be a pi'aying man, and you need
not then fear death, whether it comes at horae or in battle.'
" He requested rae to take aU the things out of his pocket.

THE MODEL OF A CHAPLAIN. 87
and among thera was a tract headed ' Corae to Jesus.' As
he saw me looking at it, he asked rae what it was. I told
him. 'Yes,' said he, 'that is the tract that h.as raade me
what I am. I owe to it this peace, and all my hopes.
Brother,' he continued, ' keep it, read it, and pray God to
bless it to you, aud to forgive you.'
"I have done as he bade me. The blessing followed, and
I share, I trust, the peace which supported hira. I believe
God has done for rae all that can be done for man in this
world. I have now a hope of seeing that slain brother
again in heaven,"

xn, THE MODEL OF A CHAPLAIN.
A soldier on board of a steamer on the Mississippi was
asked respecting the character of the chaplain in his regi
ment. His eyes gleamed with enthusiasra and delight at
the mention of his name,
" Why," said he, " over at Frederickstown, as our lines
were beginning to give way, and raany thought the day
was lost, our chaplain stepped right forward from the ranks,
between us and the enemy's lines, knelt down upon the
ground and lifted up his voice in most earnest prayer to
God for divine help in the hour of need, I never was so
impressed by any human act in ray life. An inspiration as
from God seeraed to seize us all. We rallied at the instant,
charged, drove the enemy before us, and gained the im
portant victory of Frederickstown, which perhaps has saved
to us the State of Mississippi."
It was an outburst of genuine Christian heroism; for this
sarae chaplain is at the sarae tirae unsurpassed for his devo
tion to the line of his raore strictly official duties.
Another soldier says of hira, "He is one of the best

88 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
men in the world. He has a temperance-raeeting and a
Sabbath school one evening in the week, and has a prayer-
raeeting twice a week, and other raeetings besides, as he is
able to hold them ; and then he labors personally among
the men, especially giving us good books to read." He
continued, "You would hardly believe if I should tell you
the change that has come over our company. We had not
when we enlisted, as far as I know, a single Christian man
among them. It would not be easy to find a rougher set
of fellows any where than were most of us; but now
they have nearly all pledged themselves to abstain from
profane swearing, frora gambling, frora interaperance, and
other vices; and a good raany have been converted to
Christ. He coraforts the sick and dying. I saw hini
with one of our corarades before he died, watching with
hira, and praying with hira ; and when he died, he closed
his eyes, and prepared his body with his own hands for the
grave." The Rev. Mr. Savage,^ who reports the case of this
chaplain, found the body of a personal friend among the
slain, on the battle-field of Shiloh or Pittsburg Landing.
He was a Congregational clergyraan, in the first years of
his manhood, who enlisted from raotives of pure Christian
patriotism. He was faithful, also, to the great Captain of
our salvation.
I had furnished him at different times with publications,
which he had faithfully distributed in camp. He fell early
in the battle of Sunday, and died, as the chaplain of the
regiment testifies, " with a sweet, serene smile resting upon
his finely- wrought features, — a smUe that left its impress
on the cold clay."
Among the wounded on the sarae field he found another
1 Who has earned for himself so exceUent a name as a Christian laborer in
our ai-mies at the West.

WORSHIP ON THE FLATBOAT. 89
personal friend, a Baptist minister, who was a lieutenant.
He had been shot through the thigh, shattering the bone
so that it could not be set, and also through the arm. He
lay for hours, after he was wounded, within the rebel lines,
with his wounds undressed, unable to get even a drink of
water ; a part of the time the balls and shells falling thick
around him. Yet he told me, as he lay there, he enjoyed
some of the sweetest experiences of his life. He several
times found hiraself unconsciously singing that sweet hyran :
" When I can read my title clear.
To mansions in the skies,
I bid fareweU to every fear.
And wipe my weeping eyes."
Such raen, too, are exaraples of those whose fear of God
and dependence on hira have given thera courage to face
the eneray, and enCounter death in obedience to the call of
duty.^ XHI, WORSHIP ON THE FLATBOAT.
Commodore Foote, the praying commodore, as he has
been truthfully called, acted often as his own chaplain.
The foUowing sketch of the services on his flatboat, on a
certain Sunday, was given in a letter frora the Mississippi
fleet. It affords another proof of the anxiety of this noble
man for the spiritual welfare of those who served under
him, and of his conviction that he would have .better
soldiers iu them if he could lead thera to honor God and
trust iu Him.^
The sailors, clad in their clean, plain blue uniforms, con
gregated on the forward port side. We look around us,
1 See Eeport of the American Tract Society for 1S63, page 72.
2 For other notices of this lamented officer, the reader is referred to pp, 35 aud
&i of this volume.

90 MEMORIALS OP THE WAE,
and a scene presents itself very different from the ordinary
employment of warlike men. Here, in line on the star
board, we see the raarines drawn up in line, or at ease,
with their muskets and fixed bayonets resting on their left
shoulder. In the foreground is the capstan, covered with-
the " Union Jack," — its blue field and white stars adorning
the patriotic pulpit. Around it stand Flag-officer Foote,
Lieutenant Phelps, Colonel Buford and other officers. As
the fiag-officer approaches, he is saluted by all hands, who
stand with uncovered heads. The gay, glittering, showy
uniforms of the officers are in striking contrast with the
plain garb of the seamen and marines. The flag-officer, in
a few brief and eloquent reraarks, reminds us that this is
the Sabbath, — the day set apart for rest and the worship of
the Most High. It is the first religious service, we are told,
held on this flag-ship, because, on the last Sabbath we
could not perform it, owing to an engagement with the
eneray which could not be avoided.
In the course of his address, he urged us to bear in mind
our duty to be prepared to meet our Maker, and hoped
that all, officers and raen, would refrain frora interaperance,
profanity, every iraraoral practice, and be ready to give
their account to God, let the suraraons corae when and as
it raight. He also offered up a prayer from the Episcopal service.
The services were impressive and interesting. While
Flag-officer Foote was praying " Our Father, who art in
Heaven," the report and zip, zip, zip, of shot or shell frou^
the enemy's guns could be distinctly heard by all present.
The flag-officer was calm and unmoved, however; he went
forward eloquently and feelingly with the service until aU
was concluded in due form.

THE CABIN A BETHEL. 91

XIV. GAEMENTS ROLLED IN BLOOD.
In this paragraph, a striking figure, an irapersonation, if
I raay so call it, rises before us, which represents to us
the barbarity of war on the one hand, and the araeliorating
spirit of Christ's gospel on the other.
In a regiraent at Fort Donelson, which was engaged in a
battle of three days at that point, was a chaplain, of
whora one of the soldiers gives an excellent testiraony.
" He was with us," he says, " day after day ; and as soon as
a raan feU wounded, he would take hira up in his arras, and
carry hira out where the surgeon could take care of him ;
and the last day I saw him, his clothes, from head to feet,
were literaUy dripping with the blood of dead and wounded
men that he had carried off fi-om the battle when at Fort
Donelson. His health was impaired, and he went home,
but came back again in a few weeks, and reached Pittsburg
Landing on the day of the battle, and there again went
with his regiment into that battle, and perforraed sirailar
labors. He was again at the battle of Cross Lane, where
he was taken prisoner, and reraained a prisoner fbr sorae
days because he was unwilling to leave his wounded men.
The last I saw of him was at Memphis, where he embarked
for Vicksburg, and he was again in those battles, and has
been there, in like manner, a spiritual comforter, an angel
of mercy and reUef to the wounded and dying."
XV. THE CABIN A BETHEL,
The following circumstance is related of a company of
volunteers, whom Captain Washington, of Dubuque, Iowa,
forwarded to the lower Mississippi.
They were on board of the Steamer Canada, on the way

92 MEMORIALS OP THE WAE,
to St, Louis, It was Saturday evening, and most of the
passengers in the cabin were engaged in conversation, or
jjassing away their time with cards or dice, while some of
the more rude were uttering the ribald jest or ungentle-
manly oath. Amid this scene, one of the youthful soldiers
seated himself at a table, and engaged in reading his Bible,
Another and still another took their places around this
temporary altar, until nearly all of that little band, about
twenty in number, were occuj3ied in the same manner.
An aged man then rose, and took his position in the centre
of the group thus formed. He had a pious and venerable
air, for his hoary locks proclaimed that raany a winter had
passed over his head. There those boys, the sons of farmers,
in such a presence, with that patriarchal raan as their leader,
lifted up their voices and hearts in prayer to the Ruler of
nations, and the God of battles, presenting a spectacle which
no thoughtful person could regard without interest and hope
ful anticipations of the future. The creaking machinery of
the boat, the dirge-like music of the wind, was loud; yet,
above the clatter, above all the tumult, we know that the
voices of those boys were heard in heaven, and that their
prayers will be answered. Their Bibles, precious gifts of
love, are sacred to them, and by their hallowed influence
will strengthen thera, and shield thera frora greater dangers
than those from which cuirass and glittering maU are worn
to protect the warrior.
Parents and friends at horae, fear not for such brave
sons, who, relying on Heaven, are not asharaed nor afraid
to praise God, and in his name to do battle for the rights
and truths symbolized by the Star-spangled Banner.

STRENGTH OF THE RULING PASSION, 93

XVI, STRENGTH OF THB RULING PASSION.
In one of the wards of a field hospital at Gettysburg, a
young soldier of the Massachusetts Second, who had been
shot through the lungs, lingered a fortnight after the battle.
He was cheerful as a believer in Christ, and unoppressed
by the fear of death.
It was difficult for him to breathe, but he never cora
plained. AU was done for him that kindness and skill
could suggest, A soldier-loving chaplain spent many hours
ministering to his temporal and spiritual wants, holding up
Jesus to the eye of his faith, and reraaining with him
during that raeraorable night when he yielded up his life
for his country, and his spirit to Him who redeemed it.
His languid eye kindled as often as he heard the narae of
Jesus, and his countenance reflected the peace with which
he rested there.
He expressed a wish that he " could pray again -svith his
mother ; " and wondered that no one carae from home to
visit hira. At length, greatly to his relief, a dear brother
arrived, whora he was longing to see. During raost of the
time, he manifested the sweetest composure and Christian
tenderness. At other times, his raind wandered. Vivid
recollections of the battle-field came over him, and in his
delirium he enacted a pantomirae of the deadly strife.
The ruling idea of the soldier's life seemed to take pos
session of his iraagination, and there was witnessed an irai
tation of the battle, most vivid and life-like.
He went through the whole manual of loading and
firing; the flashing of his dying eye and the nervous vigor
of his trembling hands gave fearful interest to the supposed
encounter with the foe.
Being assured that the eneray was gone, he became

94 3IBM0RIALS OP THB WAR,
calraer, and recognizing his brother and the chaplain, he
seized their hands and showered loving kisses with his cold
lips upon thera. His physical and mental powers now sank
almost beyond recall.
On being told that he was dying, he said, half-conscious,
chanting in measured cadence, "I've — got — to die — I've
got to die,"
This he repeated many times ; and then in cadence stiU
more thrilling, "I'ra — willing — to die, I'm — wUling —
to die. — Here — I — go, — I — go. I — ara — going —
here — there. I'm — pirepared — better — prepared" — than
some of his fellow-soldiers, (he meant), at the point of
death like himself, who had been thoughtless and irrelig
ious. With these broken words — "better — prepared —
better — prep " — his lips refused further utterance.
The little groupT,hen bowed around the soldier's dying
couch, and prayer in his behalf was breathed into the ear
of the ascended Redeeraer. Again we spoke to him of
Jesus ; and at the raention of that loved narae, his paUid
features glowed with seraphic radiance, and his spirit soon
passed away,^ ' From Mr. Alvord, in the Tract JourmA.

CHAPTER IV.
CHEERFUL SUBMISSION TO HARDSHIPS AND SUFFERINGS.

I. HEROISM IN THE HOSPITAL.
Nothing so reconciles raen to the endurance of privations
and suffering as the consciousness of a good cause and a
conviction of the value of the objects for which their sac
rifices are made. A chapl.ain iu one of the Massachusetts
regiments. Rev. Mr. Clark, of Swampscot, who was sent
horae in charge of a great number of wounded and sick
soldiers, stated it as a remarkable fact that in all his inter
course with soldiers wounded in battle, he had not found
one who expressed or seemed to feel" the least regret for
what he had suffered iu his country's cause.
"Oh, how brave," writes a lady who has labored for
months in the hospitals of Kentucky, — " how brave and
patient those raen are ! In all the sufferings I have seen, I
have never heard the first regret at the giving up of home
and health, and life itself, for the country. When I have
tried to find out, the spirit of the answer has almost inva
riably been, ' What I have done, I would do again, even if
it brought me here.' "
Williara Lowell Putnam, of Boston, a young officer of
social rank and education, lost his life in the battle of
Ball's Bluff. With a presentiment, it would seera, of his
aijproaching death, he wrote a letter horae, in which he
said, "You know, raother, that it is easy to die in such a
cause ; and, after all, death is but one step onward in life."
96

96 MEMORIALS OP THB WAR.
After his fall, with a self-denial worthy of Sir Philip
Sidney at Zutphen, he would not even accept the service
of a surgeon, knowing that he was beyond human skiU or
cure, and feeling that there were others around hira who
might need it raore than he.
In a hospital, crowded with the wounded frora the bloody
field of Antietam, was a mutilated soldier, Charles Warren,
from Massachusetts, one of whose limbs required amputa
tion. There was little hope of saving him, but as no other
resource was left, it was thought advis.able to raake tho
atterapt. The wound was such that the operation could
not be otherwise than jjainful in the extreme. A clergy
man, Rev. Mr. Sloane, who had been useful to the young
man in spiritual things, felt that he could not bear the sight
of the inevitable suffering, and was about to leave the
room. " But what was our surprise," he says, as they
placed him on the table beneath the surgeon's knife, " to
hear hira singing in a clear and cheerful voice, the famiUar
words : — ' There'll be no more sorrow there ;
In heaven above, where all is love,
There'U be no more sorrow there.'
"I stayed, assured that Charley was calm, trusting in
God. The limb was taken off, and he remained in a
drowsy state for twenty-four hours, and then gently passed
away. We buried him in a quiet spot, with appropriate
services, and, as we left the grave, felt that we could think
of him as in that heaven of which he so cheerfully sang.''
Au agent of the Christian Commission says of others
wounded in the sarae battle, " The patience and fortitude
with which they endure their privations and sufferings are
truly raarvellous. Owing to painful wounds and uncom
fortable positions, raany of them spend sleepless nights, but
they suffer in silence. You seldom hear any audible expres-

A FUNERAL IN THE FOREST. 97
sion from thera, I found occasion several tiraes to chide
thera for not making known their condition when they
had .an opportunity to do so,"
"Not long ago," said Mr. Gough, at a public meeting in
Boston, " I was in a hospital, and saw a young raan,
twentyrsix years of age, pale and emaciated, with his shat
tered arm resting upon an oil-silk pUlow, and there he had
been many long and weary weeks, waiting for sufficient
strength for an araputation. I knelt by his side and said,
'WUl you answer me one question?'
" ' Yes, sir,' was his reply.
"'Suppose you were well, at horae, in good health, and
knew all this would corae to you, if you enlisted, would
you enlist ? '
"'Yes, sir,' he answered, in a whisper; 'I would in a min
ute ! What is my arra or ray life compared with the safety
of the country?'"
That is patriotism, and an army composed of such men
has claims upon us that we cannot resist.

n. A FUNERAL IN THB FOREST.
A visitor to the Peninsula just after one of the battles
there, in the month of July, 1862, writes as follows : —
One of the poor sufferers, shot through the lungs, seemed
near his end. He was breathing heavily, his lips were pale,
his eyes glistening with the lustre which betokens approach
ing death. I stopped and spoke to hira of Christ. "I can
trust in hira," he faintly replied ; and the sraile upon his
pallid countenance showed that his faith was resting upon
the Rock of ages. Never did I feel the value of the
Christian hope to the dying as then. I reraembered that
others, too, like him, raust seal their loyalty with their
9

98 MEMORIALS OP THB WAE.
blood ; and, oh ! how earnestly should those who love the
soldier pray that they all may be prepared to die as calmly
as did this youthful raartyr to the cause of his country !
As I came in sight of the camp, a raUitary wagon and a
guard of soldiers were bearing one of their comrades to
his last resting-place. It was a mournful sight. The
deceased was a fine young man, from Nantucket, highly
esteemed and brave, but his last battle was fought. I
turned and followed the little procession. The sun had set,
and twilight was fading into night. They entered a
narrow glen, which led into a dark forest, and, stopping at
a sraall open space, silently lowered the soldier into his
grave. No chaplain was present (the regiment had none),
nor were mothers or sisters there to drop the tears of affec
tion over the loved form. How dreary, I thought to
myself, to be buried thus without mourners. But, as the
grave was filled slowly and noiselessly with the soft mould,
I could hear the hard breathing and the suppressed sob,
though it was so dark I could not see the faces of those
present. Ah ! I was mistaken. The bereaved ones on
that ocean isle raay be assured that mourners were there, —
sincere, true mourners, — for the soldier has a heart of ten
derness. Comrades in war are brothers ; and, ere the grave
was full, there was the audible expression of a brother's
grief Then all was hushed, heads were uncovered, and
the lieutenant-colonel slowly, solemnly, repeated the
Lord's Prayer. I never heard it when it so irapressed me
as then.
As I turned away, I addressed the officer in words of
sympathy, telling him who I was, and why I was there.
He was surprised at seeing me.
" Yes," said he, in response to my remarks ; " these are
indeed dark days for us."
The sad tone in which he uttered this, the deepening

WIPING THE TEARS PROM THEIR EYES. 99
twilight, the sight of the shattered ranks around us, pro
duced a feeling of sadness in rae not unmixed with awe ;
and I am sure no friend of our brother soldiers could have
stood at the lonely gi-ave, and not been a mourner, as I
was there.
" Lonely grave," should we say ? Those graves, hidden
as they raay be in the shades of the forest, or reraote
from the homes of those whose bodies rest in thera, shiiU
not be forgotten, — sh,all not be unvisited. Meraory shall
watch over thera. Fathers shall point thera out to their
sons; they shall spe.ak forth their mute lessons of self-sacri
fice and patriotism in the ear of generations yet unborn.
" How sleep the brave who sink to rest.
By all their country's wishes blest !
When Spring, with dewy lingers cold.
Returns to deck their hallowed mould.
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.
By fairy hands their knell is rung^
By foiins unseen their dirge is sung:
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray.
To bless the turf that wraps their clay.
And Freedom shall awhile repair
To dwell a weeping hermit there!"

IH. WIPING THE TEARS FROM THEIR BYES.
Few men have had raeans so ample for learning the
spirit of our soldiers as the Rev. Mr. Savage, agent of the
American Tract Society, in the Western Department.
While I have conversed (he says) with thousands of
our wounded from the battle-fields of Lexington and Pea
Ridge and Fort Donelson artd Shiloh and Corinth and
luka, soraetiraes on the field, soraetiraes on transports,

100 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.
sometimes in hospitals, I have never found the first
wounded man yet that has uttered a single word of com
plaint, or expressed a regret at having enlisted. It is most
wonderful to me. I have seen them armless and legless,
pierced through every part of the body, and upon the sur
geon's bench, undergoing amputation. I have seen them
dying, and heard them speak of wife and children and
loved ones at home; but I have never heard a word of
complaint or regret at having enlisted in the army.
I made a recent visit to the wounded at Vicksburg, at
Arkansas Post. I found there cases ofthe deepest interest,
one of which I will raention. There was a noble young
raan lying upon his cot on the hospital stearaer, who, by
the bursting of a shell directly iu front of hiray-had had an
arm cut off by a fragment, and another fragment had struck
the right arra, and shattered it so that it had to be ampu
tated. There he Lay upon his cot, with both arras gone,
and knowing that such raust be his condition for life; but
yet with a cheerful, happy countenance, and without a
word of complaint. I ministered to his wants ; and, as I
jDut the food into his mouth, which he had no hands to
convey thither, he would say, " Well, now, how good that
is! How kind of you! The Lord will bless you for it. I
don't see why you are so kind to rae;" — as if any one
could be too kind to a man who had suffered such a loss in
defence of his country !
When I spoke to hira of his religious feelings, he said,
" When I had ray a,rra shattered, I was no professed Chris
tian; but as I lay upon that battle-field at Hurdraan's Post
I felt, as I never felt before, the importance of iramediate
ly mq,king preparations for another world ; and I cried
mightily to God that he would have raercy upon rae, and I
believe Jesus heard ray prayer, and granted me forgiveness,
and that I did there consecrate myself, on that battle-field,

THE soldier's FAEBWELL, 101
to his service," And his soul seemed to be resting peace
fully upon Jesus amid all his great sufferings. One thing
touched me exceedingly. As he spoke of his feelings, the
tears coursed down his cheeks and lay upon them. He
had no hands with which eveu to wipe away the tears from
his own cheeks. And as I took a handkerchief and ten
derly performed this office, that beautiful passage from the
Book of Revelation occurred . to rae with a force it never
had before : " And God shall wipe away all tears from their
eyes." .{V, THE soldier's FAEBWELL.
After the battle of Williamsburg, a soldier mortally
wounded was lying on the field at night, dying. So severe
were his sufferings that one of his corarades, who was also
wounded, dragged hiraself near to hira so as to be able to
converse with hira, and, if possible, speak a word of
comfort to him.
The dying man looked up to hira and said, " It is of no
use, Williara, — I raust die, I had hoped when I died to
be surrounded with the friends of life's early raorning;
but here, far frora thera, with the cold, darap ground for
my bed, I must go. And now, WUliam, if you survive the
war, I have a message for you to carry horae, I have a
wife, two lovely children, and an aged mother. When I
carae away, ray dear wife gave rae this, her picture. Open
it ; I want to look at it once raore before I go, and if you
will read this, her last letter to me concerning herself and
the chUdren, it will seem as though she was speaking to
rae." He then drew frora his side-pocket a little pocket Bible.
"This," said he, "is the last gift of ray poor aged raother.
Oh, how raother wiU mourn when she hears I have fallen I
9*

102 MEMOEIALS OF THB WAE.
When I was coming away, she carae to the dooi-, and trem-
bling with eraotion and grief, put this little volurae in my
hand. She could not utter a word, but I knew what she
wanted; and teU her, William, that I have read it con
stantly. And tell h«r, too, that through it I was led to
pray, and, as she already knows, found acceptance in Christ.
Tell her it kept rae from vice, and the evil infiuences of
the carap; that it cheered rae and consoled rae, and
brought me dov^n to my death in peace.
"And now, good-by, ray dear absent wife .and children!
I coramit you to God. Good-by, -aged mother! — good-
by, William, — an everlasting farewell to long marches,
lonely rounds as sentinel, hardships, dangers of the field,
and bloody battles. I ara going to the home of which I
read yesterday, — where 'the forraer things are passed away'
— to die no more.
And he closed his eyes, and, stepping into the chariot of
love, he ascended the skies ; and, amidst the acclaraations
of the shining hosts on the other shore, he reached his
horae. v. TEUE TO THE FLAG.
The sea-fight between the rebel, iron-plated Virginia, for-
raerly the Merriraac, and the Curaberland and Congress,
aided at the last and critical raoraent by the Monitor, took
place in Harapton Roads, the eighth and ninth of March,
1862. The wooden vessels were no raatch for the iron-clad.
The Curaberland was sunk, and went down, leaving nothing
visible but her pennant still fiying frora the topraast above
the waves. The Merrimac then turned to the Congress,
and a contest between them, almost hopeless from the
outset, was kept up for nearly an hour. The stearaer raked
the doomed vessel fore and aft with her broadsides, swept

TEUE TO THE FLAG, 103
away nearly all the gunners, with a shot killed her com
mander. Lieutenant Joseph "Sraith, set her repeatedly on
fire, and then, having driven her aground, compelled her to
hoist the white fiag and surrender. But the Monitor, which
came up so suddenly on the morning of the second day,
turned the scales of victory, drove back and disabled the
Merrimac, and saved to us Fortress Monroe and our fieet
in those waters.
The father of the brave comraander of the Congress,
who lost his life on that fatal Saturday, is Commodore
Joseph Smith, of Washington, It appears that the elder
Smith had exerted himself specially to finish the work on
the Monitor, and hasten her departure to the scene of
action. The son, too, had written repeatedly to the naval
authorities at Washington, expressing his fears for the con
sequences of an attack fi-ora the Merrimac, and urging
plans for guarding against it. The father knew the spirit
of his son, and that the only issue of a battle for hira was
death or victory. When he saw, therefore, by the first
despatch from Fortress Monroe that the Congress had
raised the white flag, he only reraarked quietly, " Joe is
dead ! " No Roraan father ever paid a nobler or raore era-
phatic tribute of confidence to a gallant son than is con
tained in the words so uttered, nor ever gave that son to
his country with raore cheerful and entire devotion. The
sad assurance was well founded. The flag was not struck
until his son had fallen.''^
1 This Incident is from the Boston Daily Advertiser.

104 MEMORIALS OP THE W^AE,
VI, " IS THAT MOTHEE ? "
Among the many brave, uncomplaining fellows who were
brought up to the hospital from the battle of Fredericks
burg was a bright-eyed, intelligent youth, sixteen years
old, who belonged to a Northern regiraent. He appeared
more affectionate and tender, more refined and thoughtful,
than many of his corarades, and attracted a good deal of
attention frora the attendants and visitors. Manifestly the
pet of sorae household which he had left, peAaj)s, in spite
of entreaty and tears, he expressed an anxious longing for
the arrival of his mother, who was expected, having been
inforraed that he was mortally wounded, and failing fast.
Ere she arrived, however, he died.
But before the end, almost his last act of consciousness
was the thought that she had really corae ; for, as a lady
sat by his pillow and wiped the death-sweat frora his brow,
just as his sight was failing, he rallied a little, like an expir
ing taper in its socket, looked up longingly and joyfully,
and in tones that drew tears frora every eye, whispered
audibly, "Is that mother?" Then, drawing her toward
him with all his feeble power, he nestled his head in her
arms, like a sleeping infant, and thus died, with the sweet
word "raother" on his quivering lips.

VII, LITTLE EDDIE, THE DRUMMER,
The narrative which foUows is so touching, and displays
BO many of the best feelings of the human heart, that it
would be wrong to leave it out of these pages. It is from
the pen of a correspondent of the "Chicago Tribune." It
has been extensively copied, aud may be famiUar to some
of our readers : —

LITTLE EDDIE, THE DRUMMER. 105
A few days before our regiraent received orders to join
General Lyon, on his raarch to Wilson's Greek, the drura-
mer of our corapany was taken sick and conveyed to the
hospital, and on the evening preceding the day that we
were to raarch, a negro was arrested within the lines of
the carap, and.brought before our captain, who asked him
what business he had withiu the lines. He replied, "I
know a drummer that would like to enlist in your company,
and I have come to tell you of it." He was imraediately
requested to inforra the druraraer that if he would enlist
for our short terra of service, he would be allowed extra
pay ; and to do this, he raust be upon the ground early in
the morning. The negro was then passed beyond the
guard. On the following morning, there appeared before the
captain's quarters, during the beating of the reveille, a
good-looking, raiddle-Jiged woraan, dressed in deep mourn
ing, leading by the hand a sharp, sprightly-looking boy,.
apparently about twelve or thirteen years old. Her story
was soon told. She was frora East Tennessee, where her
husbaikd had been killed by the rebels, and all their
property destroyed. She had come to St. Louis in search
of her sister, but not finding her, and being destitute of
money, she thought if she could procure a situation for her
boy as a drummer, for the short tirae that we had to reraain
in the service, she could find eraployment for herself, and
perhaps find her sister by the time we were discharged.
Dra-ing the rehearsal of her story, the little fellow kept
his eyes intently fixed upon the countenance of the cap
tain, who was about to express a determination not to take
so smaU a boy, when he spoke out, saying, " Don't be afraid,
captain ; I can drum." This was spoken with so much con
fidence that the captain immediately observed, with a
smile, " WeU, well, sergeant, bring the drum, and order

106 MEMORIALS OP THB WAR.
our fifer to come forward." In a few rainutes the drum
was produced, and our fifer raade his appearance, — a tall
round-shouldered, good-natured fellow from the Dubuque
raines, who stood, when erect, soraething over six feet in
height. Upon being introduced to his new comrade, he stooped
downward, with his hands resting uj)on his knees that were
thrown forward into an acute angle, and after peering into
the little fellow's face a moraent, he observed, " My httle
raan, can you drum ? "
" Yes, sir," he replied, " I drummed for Captain HUl, in
Tennessee." Our fifer iramediately coraraenced straightening himself
upward until all the angles iu his person had disappeared,
when he placed his fife to his raouth, and played the
" Flowers of Edinburgh," one of the raost difficult tunes to
follow with the drum that could have been selected, hut
nobly did the little fellow follow hira, showing him to be a
master of the drum. When the music ceased our captain
turned to the mother and observed, " Madam, I wiU take
your boy. What is his name?"
"Edward Lee," she replied; then, placing her hand upon
the captain's arra, she continued, " captain, if he is not
kUled " — here her maternal feelings overcame her utter
ance, and she bent down over her boy, and kissed him
upon the forehead. As she arose, she observed, " Captainj
you will bring hira back with you, won't you ? "
" Yes, yes," he replied ; " we will be certain to bring him
back with us. We shall be discharged in six weeks."
In an hour after, our corapany led the Iowa Fui-st out of
carap, our drura and fife playing " The girl I left behind
me." Eddie, as we called him, soon became a great favo
rite with all the raen in the company. When any of the
boys had returned from a horticultural excursion, Eddie's

LITTLE EDDIE, THB DRUMMER. 107
share of the peaches and melons was first apportioned
out. During our heavy and fatiguing march from RoUa
to Springfield, it was often amusing to see our long-legged
fifer wading through the mud with our little druraraer
mounted upon his back, and always in that position when
fording streams.
The night after, the fight at Wilson's Creek, where Lyon
fell, I was detailed for guard duty. The hours passed
slowly away, when at length the morning light began to
streak along the eastern sky, making surrounding objects
raore plainly visible. ' Presently I heard a drura beat up
the morning call. At first, I thought it came frora the
camp of the eneray across the creek ; but, as I listened, I
found that it carae up from the deep ravine; for a few
minutes it was silent, and then, as it becarae raore light, I
heard it again. I listened ; the sound of the drura was
familiar to rae ; I knew that it was
Our drummer-boy from Tennessee,
Beating for help the reveille.
I was about to desert ray post to go to his assistance,
when I discovered the officer of the guard approaching
with two raen. We all listened to the sound, and were
satisfied that it was Eddie's drum. I asked permission to
go to his assistance. The officer hesitated, saying that the
orders were to march in twenty rainutes. I proraised to
be back in that tirae, when he consented. I imraediately
started down the hill through the thick undergrowth, and
upon reaching the valley I foUowed the sound of the drum,
and soon found him seated upon the ground, his back lean
ing against the trunk of a fallen tree, while his drura hung
upon a bush in front of hira, reaching nearly to the ground.
As soon as he discovered me, he dropped his drumsticks
and exclaimed, " Oh, corporal, I am so glad to see you I

108 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
Give mea drink of water," reaching out his hand for my
canteen, which was empty.
I iramediately turned to bring hira some water frora the
brook that I could hear rippling through the bushes near
by, when thinking I was about to leave hira, he coramenced
crying, saying, "Don't leave me, corporal; I can't Walk,"
I was soon back with the water, when .1 discovered that
both of his feet had been shot away by a cannon-ball.
After satisfying his thirst, he looked up into ray face and
said, "You don't think I will die, corporal, do you? This
man said I would not ; he said the surgeon could cure
ray feet."
I now discovered a raan lying in the grass near hira
dead. By his dress, I recognized hira as belonging to the
eneray. It appeared that he had been shot through the
bowels, and had fallen near where Eddie lay. Knowing
that he himself could not live, and seeing the condition of
the boy, he crawled to hira, took off his buckskin suspend
ers, and corded the little fellow's legs below the knee, and
then lay down and died, ^^hile the child was teUing
me these particulars, I he.ard the tramjJ of cavalry coming
doAvn the ravine, and in a raoraent a scout of the enemy
was upon us, and I was taken a prisoner. I requested the
officer to take Eddie up in front of him ; he did so, carrying
him with great tenderness and care. When we reached
the camp of the eneray, the little feUow was dead.

VIII. WHAT A PHYSICIAN SAW.
A physician, in the naval service on our Western waters,
describes in a famiUar letter some of his e.'cperience as a
witness of the sad effects of war.
You remember (he says to his correspondent) the sad

WHAT A PHYSICIAN SAW. 109
loss of the " Cincinnati," the latter part of May. We
were in full sight of Vicksburg at the tirae, and could dis
tinctly see the firing, but could not see the ship. After a
while there was silence, and intense anxiety. This might
have been eleven o'clock. About twelve o'clock, word was
brought that " The Cincinnati is sunk." Then our hearts
sank. In the afternoon, the wounded were brought in. I
wUl give you the story of one of thera. He was a hand-
sorae, finely-developed young man of twenty-three or
twenty-five years. His wound was of the left leg, shot off
just above the knee, but left hanging by a few shreds of
mus cle
In this condition he swam ashore, refusing to be assisted.
He was brought aboard pale, haggard, bloodless. Not a
murmur, not a groan was heard, but such a weary, weary
aspect! Presently he said, "Can you put me to sleep? I
ara in great pain."
" Yes, yes ; we will put you to sleep right away."
His eyes were large, clear, blue eyes, full of an unutter
able soul. They continued their wonderful silent elo
quence, — noiseless, alternate light and shade," — till the
chloroform closed them.
Another patient was brought in, also severely wounded,
making the sarae request, " Can you put rae to sleep ? "
So I left the first, before the araputation was begun, to give
relief to the second. After a little while I had him very
quiet, for he was of a different temperaraent from the first,
and more clamorous. Then I said to the sister, "Watch
hira for a few raoraents. If he stops breathing, call me ; I
must see the other man." I went. The operation Avas
completed. Soon the dressings were applied, and we raid
hira on a bed. After the other araputation I went to him
again. He was awake, and again in pain.
" I want to go to sleep ; will you put me to sleep ? "
10

110 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR,
Oh, poor pale face ! I see it now. Even the tongue
was white, I almost wept. Could I hope ? But I could
not hesitate what to do. That meek inquiry, " WUl you
put me to sleep ? " — brave, yet bordering on the plaintive,
having the slightest touch of piteousness, yet so quiet
and so grand ! He was teaching rae the sublimity of un
murmuring suffering,
" Yes, yes ; we will put you to sleep."
His eyes opened and closed so wearily, so wearily!
They were wonderful eyes, clear as two perfect stars, and
over them was the fine, smooth brow and wavy hair, abun
dant and beautiful.
"Will you give rae sorae water?"
He drank and lay still again. Presently a little stimu
lant was brought in. He swallowed it indiflerently.
" Will that help rae sleep ? "
"Yes; you will sleep now."
Previously a sraall anodyne powder had been given him.
Then he was quiet for a little while,
I had a hope for him, but with it an awful sense that it
rested on no foundation. Very soon, he grew restless,' — a
restlessness hard for words to picture, — peculiar, and such
as I, poor yearling doctor, had already learned to dread.
The restlessness became extreme, I left hira for a whUe;
then I returned. WiU he be asleep ?
He is quiet now; and oh ! beautiful eyes, — beautiful no
longer. It was the soul that gave them beauty, ,Then
the soul must be very beautiful ! Everything is calra now.
Is he asleep ? Yes, thank God, asleep now, and an angel
will waken hira one day.

THE HOSPITAL TREE NEAR PAIR OAKS, 111

IX, THB HOSPITAL TREE NEAR FAIR OAKS,
There is a large tree near the battle-ground of Fair
Oaks,' the top of which was used as an observatory during
the fight, which stands as a meraento of untold, and per
haps iiever to be told, suffering and sorrow. Many of the
wounded and dying were laid beneath the branches of this
tree after the battle, in order to receive surgical help, or
to breathe their last there more quietly. What heart
rending scenes, (wrote a Massachusetts chaplain,) did I wit
ness in that place, so full of saddened memories to me and
to others. Brave, uncoraplaining raen were brought thither
out of the woodland, the crimson tide of whose life was
ebbing away in the arms of those who carried them.
Almost all who died, died like heroes, with scarcely a
groan. Those wounded, but not mortally, — how nobly
they bore the necessary probings, and needed amputations !
Two instances of this heroic fortitude deserve to be spe
cially raentioned. One of them is that of Williara C. Bentley,
of the Second Rhode Island Regiment, both of whose legs
were broken by a bomb-shell, and whose wrist and breast
were mangled, and who yet was as calm as though he suf
fered no pain. He refused any opiate or stiraulant that
might dim his consciousness. He asked only that we
should pray for him, that he might be patient and submis
sive, and dictated a letter to be sent to his mother. Then,
and not till then, opiates were given to him, aud he fell
gently asleep, and for the last time.
The other case was that of Francis Sweetser, of Com
pany E, of the Sixteenth Massachusetts Regiment, who
witnessed in death, as he had uniformly done in life, a
good confession of Christ.
1 One of the Peninsular battles under McClellan, June 21, 1862,

112 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR,
"Thank God," he said, "that I am permitted to die for
my country. Thank God more yet that I am prepared to
go;" — and then, after a moraent's thought, he raodestly
added, " at least, I hope I am."
When he died, he was in the act of prayer, and in that
position his limbs grew rigid, and so remained after the
spirit had left his body. We shaU miss hira at the regi
ment meetings for prayer, and at our Sabbath worship.
We shall miss him at the temper.ance raeetings, — nay,
everywhere, and always, when any good is to be done for
the soldiers, araong whom he held an honored, though
humble, j^lace, X, THE WOUNDED AT PORT WAGNER,
This fortress is on Morris Island, in the harbor of
Charleston, S. C. It was stormed by our forces on the
eighteenth of July last, in two successive attacks, ineffec
tual, but among the fiercest struggles of the war. In the
first charge, the advance was led by the Fifty-fourth
Massachusetts, composed, with the exception ofthe officers,
of colored men, one-third of whom wei-e originally slaves,
and the others recruits from the Free States. They were
under the command of Colonel Robert G. Shaw, who
had sought this position to show his faith in the loyalty
and courage of a despised race, and his regard for the
rights of a comraon brotherhood. His confidence was not
misplaced. After the fire of the rebels had begun to thin
their r.anks, the men still pressed forward through a storm
of shot and shell, with shouts as they advanced. At the
distance of a hundred yards from the fort, the battalion
wavered for a moment. But the colonel, springing to the
front, and waving his sword, shouted, " Forward, once
more ! " and then, with another cheer and shout, they rushed

THB WOUNDED AT FORT WAGNER, 113
through the ditch, gained the p.arapet, and fought hand to
hand with the eneray. Colonel Shaw was araong the first
to scale the walls. He was in the act of directing and
cheering his men, when he was shot dead, and fell into the
fort. His body was found with twenty of his soldiers
lying dead around hira, two of thera on his own body.
The regiraent went into action with six hundred and fifty
men, and came out with a loss of two hundred and eighty,
— more than a third of the whole number. Eight only, of
the twenty-three officers, were uninjured.
Amid all this carnage and confusion, the color-bearer,
though he was severely wounded, and obliged to raake his
escape by creeping on his knees, held his staff erect, and
brought off the flag without allowing its folds to touch the
ground. But the saddest scene is yet to be related. The Sunday
which followed was a day of distress and raourning in
Beaufort. The arrival of the " Cosmoj)olitan," with the
wounded from Morris Island, with intelligence that our
brave troops had been repulsed there, cast a gloom over
the coraraunity, such as had not been felt since the affair iat
Pocataligo, and the death of the noble Mitchell.
As the vessel neared the wharf, with its freight of suffer
ing, a silent, raournful concourse gathered around the land
ing, eager to lend a helping hand in removing the wounded
to the hospital. As those who were able to walk filed off
the boat, and wended their slow way through the crowd,
the scene was truly pathetic. The emotional nature of the
negro broke forth in sobs and moans of compassion, while
the sympathy and, comraiseration of the white raan was
shown only in the pale face and trembling lips. The
wounded of the Fifty-fourth Massachusetts came off from
the boat first; and, as these sad evidences of the bravery and
patriotism of the colored man passed through the hues of
10*

114 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
spectators, every heart was melted with tenderness and pity
We will vouch for it, says an eye-witness, that no word of
scorn or contempt for negro soldiers will ever be heard
from any who beheld that spectacle. In that moraent, our
volunteers saw suffering corarades in the black raen, and
the tender hand and strong shoulder were extended as
readily to them as to their raore favored compatriots. All
day and far into the night did the sad procession pass
toward the hospital, and every man and woman at the post
who could do anything to alleviate the sufferings of our
brave fellows was soon busily at work.
The cheerful resignation with which the soldiers, white
and black, bore the terrible mutilations, and the sufferings
inevitable in raoving thera, was worthy of all praise. As
we looked upon sorae youthful form, lying upon a stretcher,
with a cloth covering a torn and shattered limb, and watched
the struggle to bear up with fortitude and patience, we
bowed in spirit to a hero as great as any whose fame has
employed the pen of the historian, or the muse of the poet.
On the second and third days after the fight, I passed,
says a correspondent, through nearly all the wards of the
hospital. The wounds of many of thera had not been
dressed, and were very painful. Sorae of thera lay there
with mangled legs or arras, or both ; others, with ampu
tated limbs.
"Well, boys," I said to them, "is not this soraething you
did not count upon ? "
"Oh,no, no," was the answer. "We expected to take
what raight come. Thank God, we had made up our
minds to live or die.''
" But if out of it, and at horae ouce raore, how many
would enlist again."
With brightened eyes, and, in some instances, with
uplifted stumps of arras or hands, they cried out, " Oh, yes,

THE AFRICAN STANDARD-BE .VEER, 115
yes ! We wUl never give up till the last brother breaks
his chains. If all our people may get their freedom, we
are ready* to die,"
No one can pass among these sufferers, so patient, so
cheerful, and listen to the expressions of their conviction
that they are soldiers for Jesus, to help on his war of free
dom for the oppressed,' without being inspired with the
deepest abhorrence of slavery, and praying anew and with
greater earnestness that God would hasten the day of its
overthrow. The body of Colonel Shaw was denied the rites of
sepulture. It was thrown into a pit and buried beneath
heaps of his faithful soldiers. This was meant as an insult
and ignorainy, but shall be counted an honor, and shall
give added potency to the voice which speaks frora his
grave, " They never fail who die
In a great cause ; the block may soak their gore ;
Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs
Be strung to the city gates and castle walls, ,
But still their spirit walks abroad. Though yeara
Elapse and others share as dark a doom.
They but augment the deep and living thoughts
Which overpower all others, and conduot
The world at last to freedom."

XI. THB AFRICAN STANDARD-BEARER.
The conduct of this hero, to whora allusion has been
made, deserves a raore distinct notice. The soldier who
carried the colors of the Fifty-fourth, having been disabled,
Williara H. Carney, a sergeant of Company G, caught them
1 So far as they have this spirit, the motto on one of their banners — In hoc
signo vinces. By this sign (that of the cross), thou shalt conquer— was weU
chosen.

116 MEMORIALS OF THE WA;R.
up, rushed forward, and was the first man to plant the
" Stars and Stripes " on Fort Wagner. The ranks, as be
himself said afterwards, were full as they ascended the wall,
but "melted away" before the enemy's fire " almost in
stantly." He was wounded in the head and thigh, hut
fell only upon his knees. Having raised the flag on the para
pet, he lay down on the outer slope, in order to be
sheltered as much as possible. There he reraained for
more than half an hour, till the second brigade arrived and
renewed the conflict. During all this time, he kept the
colors fiying ; and when the retreat for such as were left
becarae necessary, he followed on his knees, pressing his
wound, with one hand, and holding up the erablem of
liberty with the other. When he entered the hospital,
nearly exhausted frora loss of blood, his corapanions, both
black and white, rose frora the straw on which they were
lying and cheered him and the colors till they could cheer
no longer.
"Boys," he replied, "I have but done my duty. The
old flag never touched the ground."^
This gallant soldier was born in Norfolk, Virginia, in
1840. He "belonged to a family, originally slaves, who
becarae free by the conditions of their master's will, at the
time of his decease. In his early years, he received by
stealth^ some knowledge of the rudiments of learning from
a rainister in that city. The father and raother, with their
children wandered from place to place till they found a
home at length in New Bedford, Mass.
We have reason to ascribe William's bravery and forti
tude, his patriotism and zeal for liberty, to a Christian
source. In a letter written by hiraself, he states that he
._. 1 An ofi&cial letter states these particulars.
_ 2 Readers of thc next generation may need to be informed that it waa a penal
^t#ence iu our Southern States, at this period, to teach slaves to read.

A SINGULAR DEATH. 117
embraced the gospel in his fifteenth year, before he left
Norfolk; that after he removed to New Bedford, he became
a meraber of the church under the care of Rev. Mr.
Jackson, now chaplain of the Fifty-fourth, and that he was
hoping to prepare himself for the ministry, until the way
was opened for his striking a blow with his own arm for
the governraent and for liberty. "When the country " (to
quote his own words) " called for all persons, I felt I could
best serve ray God by serving ray country and my
oppressed brothers. The sequel was, I enlisted for the
war." xn. A SINGULAR DEATH,
I was conversing not long since with a returned volun
teer. " I was in the hospital," said he, " for a long tirae, as
attendant on the wounded, and assisted in taking off limbs
and dressing all sorts of wounds ; but the hardest thing I
ever did was to take my thumb off a man's leg."
"Ah!" said I; "how was that?" He then related th^
following case : — ' --
A young man had been placed under our care who had
a severe wound in the thigh. The ball passed completely
through, and araputation was necessary. The limb was
cut up close to the body, the arteries taken up, and he
seemed to be doing well. Subsequently, one of the small
arteries sloughed off. An incision was raade, and it was
again taken up.
"It is well it was not the main artery," said the surgeon,,
as he perforraed the operation. " He might have bled'to
death before it could have been taken up."
But the patient Charley, as we always spoke of him, got
on finely for a time, and was a favorite with us all.

118 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE,
I was passing through the ward one night, about mid
night, when suddenly, as I was passing Charley's bed, he
spoke to me : —
" H  , ray leg is bleeding again."
I threw back the bedclothes, and the blood spirted in
the air. The main artery had sloughed off.
Fortunately, I knew just what to do ; and in an instant I
had pressed my thumb on the place and stopped the
bleeding. It was so close to the body that there was
barely room for my thumb, but I succeeded in keeping it
there, and arousing one of the convalescents, sent him for
the surgeon, who came in on a run.
" I ara so thankful',  ," said he, as he saw me, " that
you were up and knew what to do, for othervsdse he must
have bled to death before I could have got here."
But on examination of the case, he looked exceedingly
serious, and sent for other surgeons. AU carae who were
within reach, and a consultation was held over the poor
fellow. One conclusion was reached by all. There was
no place to work save the spot where ray thumb was
placed ; they could not work under ray thurab, and, if I
raoved it, he would bleed to death before the artery could
be taken up. There was no way to save his life.
Poor Charley ! He was very calra when they told him,
and he requested that his brother, who was in the same
hospital, raight be called up. He came and sat down by
the bedside, and for three hours I stood, and by the press
ure of my thurab kept up the Ufe of Charley, while the
brothers had their last conversation on earth. It was a
strange place for rae to be in, to feel that I held the life of
a fellow-raortal in ray hands, as it were, and stranger yet,
to feel that an act of mine must cause that life to depart.
Loving the poor fellow as I did, it was a hard thought;
but there was no alternative. The last words \were spoken.

TIIE LAST DUTY TO HIS COUNTRY. 119
Charley had arranged all his business affairs, and sent ten
der messages to absent ones, who little dreamed how near
their loved one stood to the grave. The tears filled ray
eyes raore than once as I Ustened to those parting words.
All were sad, and he turned to rae : —
"Now H  , I guess you had better take off your
thumb." " Oh, Charley ! how cau I ? " said I.
"But it must be done, you know," he replied, cheer
fuUy. "I thank you very much for your kindness, and
uow, good-by."
He turned away his head, I raised my thurab, once raore
the life-current gushed forth, and in three rainutes poor
Charley was dead.
xm. THE LAST DUTY TO HIS COUNTRY.
Death has enough that is sorrowful and gloomy even
when it enters the quiet and comfortable horae, where
loving friends and kindred surround the bedside. But to
die away from those we love, among strangers, and in cir
cumstances unattended by so raany outward alleviations, —
and yet to die peacefiiUy, joyfully, requires a strong faith,
and shows a resignation to the will of God which is surely
one of the fruits of the Spirit. Many a brave raan, since
the war began, has raet this last eneray of the Christian
with as rauch heroisra as he raet the enemy of his country
in battle.
One of the deleg.ates of the Christian Coraraission
reports an instance of this nature which should be recorded
among the exaraples of the power of the gospel in the
last dread hour.
Among those wounded at Fredericksburg, on Saturday,
May third, who were early brought across the river from

120 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
the field of carnage, covered with blood, was a young raan
from Newburyport, Mass. He had been among the most
faithful in attendance at our weekly prayer-raeeting. I
saw at once that his wound was mortal. His injury was
such that he conld not see. I gr.asped him by the hand
and spoke to him. He knew me by my voice.
" Oh ! " said he, " I am mortally wounded, and soon must
die." " Do you feel willing to die ? " I asked.
"Yes; I have done the last duty for my God and my
country. Life is dear, but I know that all is right. I have
a dear raother and sister at home, whora I love. I would
like to die with them in the quiet of home; but I cannot,
and am willing to die here."
It must be enough, one woidd think, to scatter the
doubts of the most unbelieving, to stand at the side of
such a dying soldier. To see how calmly, with what assur
ance of hope, the young Christian breathes out his life in
the arms of the Saviour, shows at once the power of the
consolations which support him, and the reality ofthe faith
frora which they spring.

CHAPTER V.
EFFORTS FOR THE SPIRITUAL WELFARE OP THE SOLDIERS.

I, PRAYER IN A CHURCHYARD,
Scattered over the battle-fields and camping-grounds
of the present war, are consecrated spots. Bethels, every
one of them sacred to sorae soul who there held sweet com
munion with God, A laborer in the work of the Christian
Commission gives the following account of a prayer-raeet
ing which was organized and held for a time, in the church
yard of a village, near Fredericksburg, in Virginia : —
Prayer-meetings (he says) had been held previously
every evening, and many souls, I trust, converted to God,
In the Seventh Michigan, especially, a glorious work
comraenced erelong, and I trust that it has been carried
on by the Holy Spirit of God, and that eternity will reveal
glorious results which God wrought for the souls of these
earnest, truth-seeking men. Before leaving thera, I assisted
in organizing a prayer-meeting of their own. Nine or ten,
sometimes more, faithful young men, retired every evening
after roll-call to theii- little retreat, and there they prayed
together, and talked together tp strengthen each other in
faith and love. That retreat was the village churchyard.
Around a broad, fiat, old-fashioned tombstone, as an altar,
this faithful little band met, and God met with them aud
blessed them.
I have often thought what a soleran spot that is which
has been the scene of so much devotion, and what solemn
moments those were which those disciples spent in prayer,
11 121

122 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
in that habitation ofthe dead. Around them lay the lifeless
remains of those who, in years gone by, had lived and
moved and thought and filled their places araong raen.
Near by was a long row of graves which contained the
remains of Union soldiers who had fallen at the first battle
of Fredericksburg. Not long since they, too, were living
men, soldiers, like these worshippers. Perhaps some of
them were praying soldiers, perhaps some of them died
without having learned how to pray.
These faithful. Christian young raen did not forget their
prayer-raeeting when the fortunes of war called them away
from this chosen spot. They still met as often as the even
ing came. On one of the evenings during the battle of
Gettysburg, when the hour arrived for the meeting, some
of the wonted attendants were jn-esent, but it was found
that some of the most devoted had that day fallen as sacri
fices on the altar of their country.- They had fallen, but
they fell with their armor on, bright and fiolished. They
died exeraplifying the power of that faith which had sus
tained and supported thera during the weeks they had
lived as Christians.

II. REGIMENTAL CHURCHES.
A gratifying feature which religious effort in behalf of
the soldiers assuraed during the progress of the war, was
the formation, in some of the regiments, of teraporary
chnrches. These churches (wrote one of the promoters
of this measure) are designed to embrace those who are
already professors of religion, as well as new converts. In
these they find a spiritual home, in which they can receive
the benefits of church care and fellowship. As in the
carap, the tent is the soldier's substitute for his ordinary

REGIMENTAL CHURCHES. 123
dwelling, so this church is the soul's tabernacle, in the
absence of his regular and permanent sanctuary.
A church in the camp! Wh.at a novelty! With it is
connected the prayer-meeting, the Bible-class, the singing
of God's praise, the preaching of the Word, the rite of
baptism, the comraunion of the saints, and all those sacred
services which bless coraraunities at home. We hail the
movement as a happy device of Christian enterprise.
Faithful, efficient chaplains are needed ; but, in the hands
of such men, an institution like this raust be a great bless
ing to those whora it is designed to beneflt.
A minister of the gospel sits beside me (writes Mr.
Alvord, in one of his letters), who has just related to rae a
scene that took place last Sunday under his own eye.
A young man who had been converted in their raeetings
was received to the carap church. The chaplain had been
preaching to at least eight hundred of the regiment, and, at
the close of the service, this young man was asked to give
sorae account of his experience and hopes. He rose to his
feet, and was stepping forward to a place where he could
be heard. At that raoraent, most unexpectedly, a group
of soldiers joined hira, and all pressed forward together to
the stand. They were Christian men, and they wished in
this way to uphold their comrade, and show theraselves on
the side of Christ. The candidate was then admitted into
the church in due form, while the regiraent looked on, and
showed by their earnest attention how deeply the scene
had interested thera.
"The major," said the chaplain, "though he did not
profess to be a pious man, grasped me by the arra, after
the service, saying with deep feeling, ' Never did I witness
so irapressive a scene as tbat ! ' "
The chaplain of the Sixth Pennsylvania Regiment refers
to a simUar organization, under date of October 23d, 1861.

124 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
Yesterday (he writes) was the happiest Sabbath I have
known in camp. We have just estabUshed a regimental
church, which we call the Army-Union Christian Associa
tion. I enclose a copy of our creed and articles. At
eleven o'clock, a. m., the regiraent was asserabled for
public worship. In the presence of all, twenty-five of the
raen stepped out of the ranks to the front, and raade
public profession of their faith in Christ. To-day, several
others have come to rae and expressed their Avish to join us
on the next occasion. Two were baptized, on the sarae day,
and thus, for the first tirae, declared theraselves publicly
on the Lord's side. The others are members of churches
at horae. This association does not make it necessary for
them to separate from those churches. It stands only in
the place of the church at home, during their service in
the army.
We have deeply interesting meetings for prayer every
evening, excejDt Wednesday, when some of us come
together for practice in singing. To-night, several new
voices were heard in prayer, for the first tirae since the
individuals left horae. One poor sinner was raelted to
tears, and sobbed out a prayer to Jesus to wash away his
sins and raake hira a new creature. I believe that God is
pouring out a blessing upon us, and trust he raay bring
many of this regiment to himself

m. THE LAST SOUL-CHEERING WORD.
I went into another ward (writes one of the tract-
distributors), where I was told a volunteer from one of the
Maine regiraents was lying dangerously Ul frora a gunshot
wound in the thigh. There the poor sufferer laj', pale, ema
ciated, fast sinking. It needed but one look to see that he

ALL ONE IN CHRIST JESUS. 125
could not long survive. I inquired his narae, "Wm.
J  ," was the only answer that he had strength to make
audible. I had several of the little books in ray hand which
have been prepared for the soldiers, and I placed these
by his pillow. He reached out his feeble hand, and looking
thera over picked out one with the title "Welcome to
Jesus," printed in gold on a purple cover, and whispered
to me to place that on the window-sill before hira, upright,
so that he could see those words without turning his head.
I did so.
The surgeon came to dress his wounds. The patient,
evidently near his end,, and alraost without breath for
speaking, held out his hand to thank me, and I left hira.
That night he died. The last coraforting raessage he had
was, as I have reason to believe, the soul-cheering one,
" Welcome to Jesus.'' But what a raessage was that !
Thanks, many thanks, to the liberal people who sustain me
and my associates in furnishing such means for comforting
the departing soul in such an hour.

IV. ALL ONE IN CHRIST JESUS.
We are indebted to Professor M. L. Stoever, of Gettys
burg College, a faithful workraan in the hospitals of that
place, for various instructive incidents, which his labors
there have brought to his notice. We have frora hira the
following fact, showing how in the estiraation of the true
Christian, the value of the soul is pararaount to everything
else ; how it leads hira to forget the distinctions of creed,
and to lay aside the most cherished prejudices in his desire
to save the unconverted.
On the Sabbath succeeding the battle (said this intelligent
witness) my attention was directed to the destitution at the
11*

126 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
Catholic church, which was used as a hospital. On enter
ing the buUding, filled with the wounded and dying, I was
met by a Catholic woraan, whora I very well knew to be a
good woraan, but a rigid Catholic. As soon as she saw
rae, she said to rae, —
"Do come and speak to this raan. The surgeon says he
will not live, and he is unconverted."
I followed her to the pilace where he was lying, within
the chancel and near the altar. She introduced rae as a
Protestant, and as one connected with the coUege, and
then left rae to rainister to hira the comforts of religion.
After briefly and earnestly presenting to hira the only
way opened for his return to God, I knelt by his .side and
offered prayer, the first Protestant prayer, doubtless, ever
offered in that Catholic church, and that too at the request
of a member of the church. The man died a day or two
after that, raost peacefully, trusting in Christ, cheerfully
acquiescing in God's will, and with the hope of eternal
happiness beyond the grave. He was the son of a pious
raother, and had been reared under religious influences.
Although he had never raade a profession of religion, his
early instructions had prepared his mind to lay hold of the
cross and to embrace the Saviour.
In Christ Jesus all Christians are one.

V. WORSHIP IN CAMP.
Rev. A. H. Quint, chaplain in the Second Massachusetts
Regiraent, attached at that tirae to the Array ofthe Potomac,
thus graphically describes the raeetings for preaching and
prayer araong the soldiers: —
The Sabbath service is held at half-past four o'clock,
P. M., under the lengthening shadows. The drum and fife

WORSHIP IN CAMP. 127
play "church call;" the corapanies arfe formed as for parade.
Each marches to the sound of music, to its place, tUl the
regiment forms three sides of a square, leaving, perhaps,
fifteen feet each side of the preacher. Just within the
square are the field and staff officers, and the band, which
plays a voluntary. At a word of coraraand, the singers
leave the ranks and stand near the band. In the service,
the raen stand until the time for sermon, when, at the
word "Rest," all are seated, but still in order. The
serraon closing, all instantly rise, uncovered, for prayer and
benediction. These ended, "Attention ! Company A, left
face, raarch ! " and, to the music of the band, the men
march to their tents. There is no lack of attention, and
never a disrespectful look.
Sabbath evening, at half past seven o'clock, is our prayer-
meeting, lately established. It is held, now, on an open
space, near the tents of our band. Each time, it has been
a dark evening. A few candles cast a dira light. The
flame of near or distant camp-fires shines fitfully on the
bronzed faces of hardy raen, bringing into deeper shadow
the sorabre blue of their uniforra. They stand closely, —
a hundred of them. A familiar revival hyran, perhaps
"Behold, behold, the Larab of God," or "We're going
home, to die no more," attracts others, for music is a great
charm in camp. A prayer, reading of Scripture, a short
address frora the chaplain, singing, and then all are invited
to speak, or pray, or sing. One coraes forward quietly into
the little vacant space, and in a low voice testifies to the
grace of God. Then another; and one prays, or singing
breaks forth ; or one, in whose heart the springs have been
long choked up, bears witness that the fountain is once
more gushing, and raourns over his sins. Here and there
are visible tears rolling down sorae rough cheek; "it seems
so like home," or-" it makes us feel human," or " it reminds
one of a praying father."

128 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
The hour passes. Tired? No; though no cushioned
seats have rested thera, — they have all been standing the
whole period. But they have rested on the grace of God ;
and they look forward with yearning hearts to the
Wednesday evening prayer-meeting. Wednesday evening
I chose for its beloved associations with the "Young
People's Meeting ".at home.
VI. A REGIMENTAL REVIVAL.
The following narrative was written by the Rev. Dr.
Marks, chaplain of the Sixty-third Pennsylvania. Volun
teers. It must ever be a source of reUef and hope to thousands
of Christian parents, whose sons have gone into the ai-my
without any avowed interest in religion, and have been
slain in battle, or have died in hospitals, that their lost
ones had an opportunity to witness such scenes as this
narrative describes; and that the symbol of the divine
presence rested so visibly here and there on the tents in
which they sojourned. We need not put away from us the
consolation of thinking that many of those who have been
thus cut off may have been reached by the silent operation
of such influences, and fitted for their end, though they
may not have left the recorded proof of their acceptance
of the terras of raercy.
The Sixty-third Regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers
entered the service of the government on the 25th of
August, 1861, at Pittsburg. We reached Washington
about the first of September, and very soon entered
General Ileintzelraan's division, and were stationed on the
Mt. Vernon road, about three miles from Alexandria.
The first Sabbath after the chaplain arrived in camp, he
noticed unusual soleranity, and on that day gave away

A REGIMENTAL REVIVAL. 129
more than three hundred Testaments to those who called
at his tent. On the next Sabbath, he gave away, in the
same manner, more than three hundred of your hymn-
books; and, from that time, has distributed every week
frora five hundred to a thousand religious papers, small
books, and tracts. These were uniformly read,' and deep
and permanent religious impressions were produced.
We were for three raonths without any shelter or tent
for religious worship ; but uniforraly had two services on
the Sabbath day, and one or more prayer-meetings during
the week.
In the month of December, the heart of the chaplain
was cheered by more than one soldier coming to hira, con
fessing his sins, and asking jjrayers. Others carae to the
chaplain earnestly desiring religious instruction, and pro
fessing sorae interest in the question of their salvation.
About the last of .January, through the kindness of sorae
Christian friends in Pittsburg, I was enabled to purchase a
tent for worship. This we immediately pitched, and on a
rainy night, and the mud fabulously deep in carap, we met
in the new tent, and, without fire and alraost without light,
stood up and dedicated it to God,
The following Sabbath was one of marked solemnity.
Many of the soldiers were deeply moved. The chaplain
announced, during the service, that he would that day take
measures to organize a church in the regiment, and invited
all Christians to unite with the new association, and thus
aid to advance the cause of the gospel in the array. Many
gave their names that day, and rejoiced greatly in the
privilege of " standing u^ for Jesus." The evening was
marked by still greater solemnity, and many requested the
privilege of enrolling themselves with the people of God.
On Monday morning, I coraraenced going frora tent to
tent, talking to the soldiers and officers in each, and pray-

130 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
ing in several. I found that the Lord had gone before me^
and. that it was whoUy his work. Many had been deeply
irapressed by recent letters frora horae. There had been
excited in Western Pennsylvania a great interest for the
moral and spiritual welfare of the array. The papers
abounded with appalling details descriptive of the criraes,
vices, and impiety of the troops upon the Potomac. These
accounts, when read, excited the deepest concern in many
hearts, and led to letters of entreaty, warning, and earnest
appeal. No doubt these letters were often wet with tears,
and sent with many prayers.
During the week, the religious solemnity increased.
We held meetings every morning, and again visited from
tent to tent. I was nowhere repulsed, but in raany places
received kindly, and often with gratitude. Often, the
raess of a tent would confess their sins, and proraise to
each other a better life. While I was talking with one of
these corapanies of soldiers, one of the raess, with tears in
his eyes, lifted frora under a pile of books and clothes a
pack of cards, and put them, with the approbation of all,
into the fire.
During this week, I was, for raany hours each day, con
versing and praying with those who carae to seek advice
and help. We celebrated the Lord's Supper on the morn
ing of the third of February. The day was most beautiful
and balmy ; never had there been such quiet and stiUness
in camp. It was like a Sabbath in one ofthe most orderly
of our villages. We had a most delightful prayer-raeeting
at nine o'clock, and commenced more pubhc services at
half-past ten.
First, after singing and prayer, I read the Articles of
Faith which were the basis of union, then administered
baptism to six young men, and read the names of those
who desired to associate themselves as a church in the

PREACHING BY MOONLIGHT. 131
army. There were one hundred and fifty-nine naraes, among
which forty-six were the names of those who had been
recently converted, and confessed Christ for the first tirae.
There were, likewise, thirteen persons who placed thera
selves under the care aud teaching of the church as cate
chumens or inquirers. Several of these, I have no doubt,
will soon be confirmed in the love of God.
In the afternoon, I preached at the hosjDital, during
which there was a raost precious prayer-meeting held in
the tent^and many spoke, and with tfie deepest emotion
told of the new joys they felt. Sabbath night I preached
on the words, "My Spirit shall not always strive with
man." Five or six reraained after preaching for religious
conversation and prayer. Thus ended the raost raeraor
able day in the life of many, and one that must have a
raost iraportant influence on our future in tirae and
eternity, •vn. PEBACHING BY MOONLIGHT,
The Rev, Mr, Alvord, who has written so much, as well
as travelled so rauch, for the soldiers, illustrates the varied
nature of his Christian raission by the following vivid sketch.
I can hardly doubt that " the guides " will hereafter point
out the spot to which he refers as one of the raeraorable
places, — the place where, in the war of the Rebellion, the
soldier's friend preached by raoonhght. In a letter to a
correspondent, Mr, Alvord says, —
Last evening was beautifully moonlight, and I had a
scene which you would have deUghted to witness. On the
hillside yonder lies a cloud of canvas, and the chaplain
proposed that I should go up and have preaching, " Of
course," I said ; and soon the church-call from the bugle
brought me a crowd of two or three hundred. There they

132 MEMOEIALS OP THE WAR,
stood, forming a circle a number of rods in diameter, and
two or three feet deep. The moon swara through the
heavens above, the great blue dome resting on surrounding
hills and distant water. Far over the Potomac, the sun in
going down had left behind a gorgeous aurora, — his day-
robes thrown off at bedtime. Near and below us were
the transports dotting the water or hanging along the rude
wharves, and all the bustle of the day was sinking into a
hum broken only by some neighing horse, or sweet bugle
strains from afar, and nearer, by the in-tent talk of
multitudes. In such a church, with such galleries, we broke forth
with " Corae, Holy Spirit," and then the chaplain's strong
voice was heard in prayer. Again, "Live on the battle
field" rolled out in the night air. It was a kind of iuspira-
tion. All eyes were now upon me. I could not see the
eyes of any one. A ring of grim warriors in great-coats,
each face seemingly alike, (shadowy cartoons), cen
tred eye and ear and heart upou my lips. It was easy to
preach, and I trust with a blessing. Again the song rose
more loudly than before, and with a short benediction the
strange assembly dispersed. The raajority wheeled into
squads and raarched to quarters. Others, especially officers,
«apie around to thank rae for the service. I retired, feel-
in^, that the word of the Lord is fitted to all people and
^Ejfejaces, and that we raay in the raorning sow our seed,
*^i^ in the evening hold not our hand.
¦ vm. A SOUL BEOUGHT TO JESUS.
A correspondent of the "Boston Recorder," over the ini
tials " J. J. M.," writes as foUows : —
In one of my visits to the Court House Hospital, in
Gettysburg, I noticed lying iu the hall, among many others.

A SOUL BEOUGHT TO JESUS. 133
an individual of a large and powerful frame. There was
soraething in his countenance that fixed my attention at
once, and awakened a special sympathy in his behalf. He
had the look of a man who had never known fear, nor
asked for help, — he could suffer without a groan and die
without a coraplaint.
In answer to my inquiries, I learned that he was from
Wisconsin, and ofthe Sixth Regiment ; he had been wound
ed on the first of July, and the fatal ball had entered the
right breast and passed out near the spine.
He did not ask me, as many others, if I thought he
might recover ; but said, in answer to an inquiry in regard
to his religious hopes, —
" Sir, I am anxious to do everything I can for my soul.
I have received no religious education. Can you teach
me, and tell me what I raust do to be saved ? "
I knelt on the floor by his side and endeavored to ex
plain to hira the first principles of Christian faith. He told
me that during the days and nights that he had been lying
wounded and alone, he had been thinking most ofthe time
of his sins against God; much ofthe tirae he had despaired
of forgiveness. And he wished to know if there was any
way in which God could forgive them, for he felt that he
himself could do nothing.
I sought to unfold to him the way of life, and to lead
hira to the Larab of God. I was rejoiced that he corapre-
hended every truth, and appeared to rest upon the blessed
proraise, " I will be merciful to your unrighteousness^ and
your sins and your iniquities will I remember no more." ^
Before I left him, he said to me, "Sir, I want you to baptize
me ; I believe iu Jesus Christ as ray Saviour, and I wish to
confess him before I die,"
I found on proper examination that he did not rely on
J Hebrews viii, 12,
12

134 MBMORLALS OF THE WAE,
baptism to save him, but merely wished to obey the divine
comraand, and I hoped, as an hurable and penitent sinner,
he was entitled to the ordinance.
But iu order that he raight rest, and have tirae to think
on the subject, I left him, and returned again in an hour.
He was expecting me, and earnestly requested me not to
forget what I had promised.
I brought one of the surgeons with me and a friendly
soldier, and, kneeling by the side of the wounded man, I
invoked the presence of the great Sufferer and endeavored
to lift the anxious one into the bosora of eternal mercy. I
then baptized "Levi Steadman" m the narae ofthe blessed
Trinity. When the cereraony was ended, he said, "T thank you, I
thank you ; noV I will rest."
On the following raorning, I carae to his bed, but he was
asleep, and for raany hours, being called away, I was not
able to see him ; but when I again came to hira, he was
sensible, and, while suffering the greatest pain, was evi
dently peaceful.
" Do you still trust iu Jesus," I said to hira.
" Oh, yes," he replied ; " I lean on hira ; I hope in him
alone; pray for me that God may forgive me, and not
forsake me in death."
I was again absent for more than a day, visiting the field
hospitals, and when I returned, I hastened to the Court
Hou^e ; but when I came to the bed of Steadman, he was
not there.
" Where," I said to the raan, " is Steadman ? "
" He died half an hour ago," was the answer,
" And how did he die ? " I asked,
"He was sensible and peaceful to the end, and prayed
much that God would not judge him for his sins, but would
show him mercy, for the sake of Jesus."

A MOTHER S THANK-OFFERING, 135
May we not hope that the repenting soldier, like the
dying thief, was received that day into the paradise of
God?

IX, A mother's thank-offering.
The following letter furnishes an indirect, but expressive
and deserved testimony to the value of the labors of the
Christian Coraraission in sending pious raen to our armies
and hospitals, to attend to the wants ofthe soldiers, supply
them with religious books, preach to thera, pray with them
and for them, and, with the blessing of God, lead them to a
saving knowledge of his truth and the way of eternal life.
It was written by Mrs. Isabella G. Duffield, a sister of the
late Dr. Bethune, of New York, and a grand-daughter of
Isabella Graham, of whose piety and benevolence so many
traditions still linger in the raemory of our own and of a
former generation. It becoraes others, surely, who have
sons and brothers in the army, in like manner, to remember
by their prayers and gifts those who go forth to alleviate
the sufferings of our soldiers, and to save them from the
shoals and quicksands on which they are so liable to be
wrecked, for tirae and eternity.
The letter is addressed to the President of the Corarais
sion, Detroit, September 30th, 1863.
George H. Stuart, Esq.
Dear Sir : — Having, with great thankfulness to God,
heard by telegraph that my youngest son. Adjutant H. M.
Duffield, is not wounded, but quite well at Chattanooga, I
send you twenty dollars, as a thank-offering from a mother
for the preservation of her son at the battle of Chicka-

136 MEMORIALS OP THB WAR,
mauga,^ May the blessing of our Father in heaven go
with it!
I think of the Christian Coraraission and the Sanitary
Coraraission as twin brothers going forward to their glori
ous work. Oh, ray friend, what a field is open to
Christians now, and how ought they to iraprove it in trying
to rescue those who are " led captive by the Devil at his
wiU!" God bless you, and the dear precious Christian
Coraraission ! Surely the blessing of those who are ready
to perish will rest upon you. Ah ! little do you know how
much corafort you give to anxious mothers, when they hear
of your locations. "My boy is there," is her thought; and
then she bows the knee and prays that your labors may be
blessed to hira and others.
Surely, it is like going out into the highways and hedges,
when you look after the spiritual wants of soldiers. You
encourage Christian soldiers, while you awaken the impeni
tent. Oh, how noble to be near' the sick-bed and cheer
hira with your blessed words !
" When the groan his faint heart giveth
Seems the last sigh of despair."
Oh, how I have wept and prayed for our beloved coun
try! Two sons (one colonel, and the youngest the adju
tant) I gave. The colonel is wounded so that he cannot
go back, and the dear young adjutant has been in this
battle. But I put him under the shadow of God's wing,
and he has kept him safe, I ara anxious, but stUl I say,
" If new sorrow should befall.
If my noble boy should fall,
K the bright head I have blest
On the cold earth finds its rest,
1 In Tennessee, where the battle was fought between General Eosecrans and
the Eebel Bragg.

A NEW THING IN THE ARMY. 137
Still, with all the mother's heart
Tom and quivering with the smart,
I yield him 'neath Tliy chastening rod.
To my country and my God."
You will never know the good you have done till " God
shall wipe away all tears from every eye," and you see
how raany gems shall sp.arkle in your crown which have
been gathered from our army.
How much good your Commission has done ! God bless
you all ! In haste, Your sister in Christ.
X. A NEW THING IN THB ARMY.
In one of my circuits, (says a follower of Him who
"went about doing good,") I made a singular discovery.
In the Verraont Twelfth, the lieutenant of the guard step
ped frora the ranks (they were then on duty), and took
" Banners"^ for all his corapany. He expressed his hearty
and repeated thanks for thera. Having directed me to the
chaplain, whom I wished to see, he added, "And I have
just paroled fifty men for Sabbath school service." He
then pointed to some unfinished barracks outside of the
carap, and said, " You'll find the scholars there."
I turned ray steps thither. The new Bucktail Regiraent
lay partly between this and the barracks, and on the way I
gave sorae of ray stores to thera. Reaching the place, I found
what I haye never seen before in this array or any other.
I found what I think was never seen before in any army on
earth, — a regularly organized Sabbath school, — organized,
as I afterwards learned, before the brave Verraonters left
their native raountains. There they were, in squads or
classes, each with a teacher at its head, intent on their
lessons. 1 The title of a periodical for soldiers.
12*

138 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
XI. THB lord's SUPPER IN CAMP.
A clergyraan, who, among other labors which he per
formed on a temporary visit to the army, took part in the
administration of the Lord's Supper, sets before us the fol
lowing scene : —
I enjoyed this privilege (he says) in the carap of the
Seventieth Indiana Regiraent, whose chaplain, the Rev.
A. C. Allen, was a roora-raate with me at college many
years ago. The colonel of the regiment was B. Harrison,
a grandson of President Harrison, a pious man and an
elder in the church. He, with a captain, who holds the
sarae religious office at horae, and a pious surgeon, in whora
I found a former pupil of mine, acted as officiating elders.
The preparatory service was held on Saturday night, in
the open air, before the chaplain's tent. Hundreds of offi
cers and soldiers were present. On Sabbath raorning, the
dress parade and inspection were held before breakfast, so
as not to interfere with the religious service. At nine, a,
M., the bugle sounded, and the people carae flocking to
the frout of the colonel's tent, each bringing his chair,
stool or box, on which to sit. The prayer, the hyran, the
text and the serraon, all pointed to a comraon theme, —
Calvary and its victim. None were unaffected, and many
were moved to tears, when, with bowed heads, the comrau
nicants gathered together to partake of the broken bread
and poured-out wine. We all felt that Jesus was at
tho head of the table, and that he was there to dispense
rich blessings tq his hurable, grateful guests. The closing
act was au exhortation, earnest and direct to those who
had renewed the vows of their espousal, .and the soldiers
theu retired with strength for days to corae, — days of
temptation fierce and strong to all, — days of trial and
suffering to many.

THE FIEST SABBATH AT BEAUFORT. 139
There was an evening service, at which the object was
to incite Christians to set the standard of their piety high,
to show themselves worthy followers of Hira who, araong
the other ends of his work on earth, has taught us how to
live as well as to die, who "was holy, harraless, undefiled."
In the array, especiaUy, raen need all the strength that
a due observance ofthe Lord's Supper can afford. Helped
by such raeans, and compelled as they are to be watchful,
or forfeit all, no doubt some araong them develop a more
robust, syraraetrical character in the army than they would
ever have reached araid the more quiet scenes of life at
home. xn. THE FIRST SABBATH AT BEAUFORT.
Our forces took possession of this town on the tenth of
Noveraber, 1861. The flag of the nation, which had been
hauled down and dishonored in the capture of Surater,
had just been raised once raore, at Hilton Head, on the soil
of South Carolina, with shouts of triuraph and salvos of
artillery. The Roundheads,^ and the Michigan Eighth were sent
to this outpost of the chief railitary station. The first
Sabbath carae ; — and shall its wonted rest, the teachings and
prayers of the sanctuary, be denied to those wanderers frora
a distant home? No; there were pious officers there, and
ministers of Christ, who were careful to mark the day as
the day which God has hallowed, and to turn its oppor
tunities to account for the benefit of the soldier.
We were strolling leisurely through the streets, on that
Sabbath (writes a correspondent frora the place), when
suddenly the glorious notes of "Old Hundred" burst on
our ears. The extrerae quiet of the town, the gentle sigh-
1 See thg account of them on page 27,

140 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE,
ing of the moss-grown oaks, the full, deep tones of the
organ, and the powerful voices of the singers, as they joined
in the hymn, combined to awaken feeUngs which it is not
easy to describe. We followed the sounds, and were led
to the Baptist church, and there a scene met our eyes, for
which, in our ignorance of any such gathering, we were
not at aU prepared. The glittering rauzzles protruding
frora the windows, and the stack of drums without, pro
claimed the nature of the exercises. Nor, on entering the
sacred place, was the sight less novel or unexpected. Over
the pulpit, from which treason had so long been preached,
hung in graceful folds the regimental colors of the Pennsyl
vania " Roundheads," Ministers of the gospel were in the
desk, A serraon was preached, and the other parts of
worship performed in connection with the serraon, A
prayer for our coraraon country and its lawful rulers was
offered once raore, and for the first tirae there since the
beginning of the rebellion. After the benediction the
Roundheads and the raen of the Michigan Eighth gave
three patriotic cheers, and then taldng down their arms,
marched quietly back to their tents.

XIII, A LEAF FEOM HIS JOUENAL.
A coiTcspondent from the army who went, with a friend,
among the soldiers to distribute medical stores, and Bibles,
tracts, and other religious books, found a general eagerness
among them to receive such donations, A single loaf from
his journal raay be copied here.
Wending our way down a deep guUy beyond the fort,
we passed up and around Fort Marcy, and approached a
regiraental hospital. Here the sick boys of the Vermont
Second took gratefully both our tracts and the comforts

A LEAF PROM HIS JOURNAL, 141
for invalids, I said to one of thera, " Do you not want to
go horae ? "
" Yes," said he, " but not till we conquer the rebels,"
There were tents in a, wooded region on our right, from
which the nien, as soon as they heard of our errand, came
up and begged for books,
" How glad I am for this," said one of them, as he
pressed a Testament upon his bosora between his two
hands. Half a raile further, we came upon the Pennsyl
vania First Cavalry. We stopped and handed a tract to a
soldier by the road-side. He thanked us, and flourishing
the prize over his^head, shouted to his comrades, of whora
twenty or raore carae rushing to the spot. The supplying
of these brought to us ten tiraes their nuraber, and in five
rainutes they were twenty deep on either side of our
wagon, shouting, " Give rae one," " Give rae one," " Give
rae a Testaraent," and a perfect palisade of extended arras
and grasping hands environed us. We urged thera to
stand back; for it seemed as if wagon and horse would
break down under their weight. They did so instantly;
but the clamor only rose frora a wider circle, "Give rae a
book ! Give me a book ! "
One of them held up a pack of cards in his hand, and
challenged an exchange.
•" Give me a Testament," he said, " and I'll give up the
cards ! "
The Testament was given, and he then threw the cards
beneath our horse's feet. And so we worked, both of us,
dealing out our supply of books to the eager, hungering
crowd, as fast as our hands could pass them to those who
received them. I could t^ink of nothing but the assault
of starving men, and these raen like a pack of hungry
wolves from the forest, that had broken loose upon us. I
noticed among thera one poor fellow, who, shot through

142 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE.
the lungs, seemed near his end ; his lips were pale, and his
every feature marked him as a victim of the grave. I
stooped down and spoke to him of Christ.
"I can trust in Hira," he faintly replied.
The sraile on his pallid countenance showed that he was
resting on the hope " which is sure and steadfast.''
" Dear youth, happy even in such distress," I said to my
self Christian friends of the soldiers should pray that all
who die may die as calmly, and reraeraber that what we
do for thera must be done quickly.
The next regiment to which we carae had a chaplain,
but the raen said, " We never see him ! " He is one of a
class that ought never to have been here. Many of the
chaplains are noble, faithful men, who honor their profes
sion, and raake theraselves indispensable to the array. But
sorae, I raust say, have no fitness for their work, and some
are a disgrace to the office.

xrv. GIFT OF THE PEAYEE-BOOKS.
It was. a gift which illustrates the Preacher's word : ^ —
" In the raorning sow thy seed, and in the evening with
hold not thine hand : for thou knowest not whether shall
prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shaU be
alike good."
"Are you going to take your book with you to the
battle-field?" This question Edward R. Graton, of Com
pany C, a native of Clappville, Mass., addressed to one
of his companions, the day before the fight at Newbern,
N. C.
" I don't know," the other replied.
"I shaU take raine," said he, and at the word he placed
it carefully in the left breast pocket of his blouse.
1 Eccleslastes xl. 6.

FORTUNES OF A BIBLE. 143
These prayer-books, (says the Rev. Mr. J.ames, chaplain
of one of the New England Regiments,)^ had been given
to thera by a friend at horae the day they started for the
war. A copy was given also to another soldier of the cora
pany, but he threw it away at Carap Hicks, in Annapolis.
Araong the first who were brought back wounded from
the field was Graton, — -shot with a ball through his side.
It had passed in at his left breast, and out at his back, mak
ing a severe and dangerous wound. It would have proved
mortal at the instant, had it not passed directly through his
prayer-book, a distance of an inch and a quarter. This
obstacle deadened the force of the bullet, and gave it
another direction. The book lies before me as I write,
(says the chaplain,) pierced on its side ; and very near the
raiddle of the cover is seen the blood of the owner, stain
ing it through at least two hundred pages.
This prayer-book, worn in his bosom, which turned aside
thus the shaft of death, lengthened out his probation a whole
precious month. During this time, there was an opjDortu-'
nity for many interviews with him. He often expressed
fully and freely his trust in the Lord Jesus, as the sinner's
friend and Saviour, and when he died, died peaceful and
happy in his sheltering arms.
This little book will be dear to his friends, and especially
to his raother. I have engaged to give it to her in person,
(says Mr. Jaraes,) after our return home.

XV. FORTUNES OP A BIBLE.
The battle had been raging fearfully for many hours on
the bloody field of Antietam, with alternate victory and
defeat. In one continued shower the leaden hail poured
' Connected with General Burnside's expedition to Newbern and Roanoke.

144 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.
thick and fast into the ranks of our brave soldiers, leaving
thousands of them dead or wounded.
Where the contest had been fiercest, a soldier, severely
wounded, was lying upon the ground, unable to raove.
The dead and dying were all around him, but the voice of
one among thera seeraed to rise above the rest, indicating
by its tone the raost intense anguish. The wounded man
looked around him this way and that as far as he was able,
to see if he could distinguish whose voice it was, but in
vain. He then called to know who it was, and the reply
came in an agonized voice : " It is I. Oh, I'm dying, I'm
dying." His unseen comrade tried'to comfort hira as well '
as he could, and suggested that he raight be better in a
short time; but the poor fellow replied, "Oh no; I'ra dying,
I'ra dying."
Then rallying all his reraaining strength, he threw a
book in the direction of his new-found friend, and asked
him to take care of it. At that moment a rebel soldier
came along, and gave this friend a drink frora his canteen ;
and emboldened by his kindness, the Union soldier asked
him to show the same favor to the dying comrade, who
was writhing in his agony a few feet frora hira. Very soon
the Southerner returned, saying that it was too late, the
man was already dead. He then asked the Southerner if
he would hand him the book that had been thrown to him,
and he kindly complied with this request. It proved to
be a pocket Bible, handsomely bound, with the name of
"W. S. Pollard, Thirteenth Regiment Massachusetts Volun
teers," engraved in gUt upon the cover. '
The wounded soldier was soon taken with others of his
comrades to a place of safety, and he carried with him to
his hospital bed the dying gift so affectionately presented
to hira. He knew nothing of the donor except his name,
and whether or not the precious truths contained in his

AN ANSWER TO PRAYER. 145
Bible were the solace of his dying moraents will be known
perhaps only in eternity ; but it was evidently his last
earthly thought and care to place the sacred volurae where
it would be cared for and blessed to others. Doubtless
some kind friend, perhaps a mother or a sister, had pre
sented it to him, and with thoughtful care, had made an
oil-silk cover, which, though carried through marches and
into battle, had preserved it pure and unsullied.
The soldier into whose possession the Bible carae in
such a peculiar raanner was a Pennsylvanian, and was in
duced soraewhat reluctantly to dispose of it to a pious
fellow-soldier in the hospital, who was frora Massachusetts.
This soldier has since returned, and it was at his house
that the writer saw the Bible, and learned its interesting
history. The blessed promises contained in this book may
have comforted and cheered the poor soldier who first owned
it through many a weary hour in the carap and on the
raarch. Having passed uuharraed through the sraoke and
peril of battle, and been rescued from among the dead and
dying on the field of blood, raay it yet be the means of
leading many a precious soul into the paths of peace.^

XVI. AN ANSWER TO PRAYER.
I was passing the camp of a Rhode Island Regiment,
near Falmouth, when a soldier came up and said to me
abruptly, "Do you belong to the Christian Commission?"
" I do," I replied.
" Then I saw sorae of your men at Stoneman's Station,
and received sorae papers frora thera."
1 From " S. E. D.," in the American Messenger. The writer appends to
the article this notice: — "Mr. Pollard's relatives may obtain this Bible by
addressing Mr. S. H. Lincoln, Plainfleld, Mass."
13

146 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
This was all the introduction, and he then went on to
relate to me sorae passages of his life,
" I carae out here," said he, " as rough and bad as any of
the raen. But I had left a praying raother at home.
While in carap at Poolesville, I heard that she was dead.
After that, her image was neveV out of ray thoughts. It
seemed as if her forra appeared to rae as in a mirror, and
always as wrestling for her wayward son. Go where I
might, T felt as if I saw her in her place of prayer, kneel
ing and putting np her jDctitions to God, and not even the
roar of the battle could drown the soft tones of her voice."
He was iu the fight at Fair Oaks, and when it ceased, sat
down exhausted upon a log by the road-side, and then, to
use his own words, he "thought over the matter." Heaps
of dead men lay on every side of hira. They had fallen,
but he was still uuharraed. The melting words of his
mother's prayer carae back to his raind with new power.
He thought of his own condition, and of her happy home,
so far removed frora the strife and agony of war,
A pious soldier of his corapany noticed that he was very
thoughtful, and inquired the reason. To this friend he
opened his mind freely, and told him how he felt. They
sought occasions for private conference, communed together
and prayed, and strength was given him to make "the last
resolve ;" and the soldier who had been so "rough and bad"
became a soldier in the array of the meek and lowly Jesus.
The sainted mother had not prayed in vain. A battle had
just been fought, a victory won, which was spreading joy
throughout the nation; but here, too, was a triumph, — a
different triuraph, — such as causes the angels of God in
heaven to rejoice.
I have seldora found a happier man than I found in this
young soldier. He was happy in the service of his Master,
and happy in the service of his country. Nearly all the

A SABBATH WITH THE CONTRABANDS, 147
corapany were irreligious and profane, but he was firm
against ridicule and opposition. He and his friend did
what they could to hold up the cross, and save their cora
rades. He told rae that they went often into the woods
to pray, and enjoyed happy seasons there, even when they
were the only two.

XVII. A SABBATH WITH THE CONTRABANDS.
I had attended a meeting of chaplains at Bealton
Station, on Saturday, and on Sabbath morning went out
from the tent of the Christian Commission, and met a
company of contrabands at the depot, with whora I had,
on the previous evening, had some conversation.
There were probably one hundred and fifty of them.
Some of them were men of farailies, and had left their
wives and children in slavery, and were every hour praying
for the advance of our army, in order that our troops
raight have an opportunity to reach thera and conduct
them to freedom. Several of these raen were most devout
and earnest Christians. Every evening, they held a prayer-
raeeting in the raidst of their tents, in which there were
shed raany tears at the raention of their families. The
scene would often strike those from our orderly and severely
quiet churches as wild and boisterous ; but these children
of nature cannot pray in set forms, nor always act with
measured propriety. Loud are their cries for pardon,
many are the trembling and convulsive raoveraents of the
body. " You have had a stormy time of it to-night, uncle."
" Yes, massa ; the living chUd when it is born cries, the
dead say nothing."
' From the correspondence of Eev. Dr. Marks, in the Army of the Potomac.

148 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
I listened on Saturday night, at their camp-fire, to the
stories of these children of oppression, and admired more
Jfchan ever their forgiving temper. In some cases, however,
it was evident the iron had often entered into the soul,
and they had raany tiraes in the past said, "It is better to
die than to live."
To these men I preached on Sabbath morning at six
o'clock, first asking permission of the superintendent.
This was raost freely granted ; he at the sarae time bore
the highest testimony to the sobriety, honesty, and piety
of these contrabands ; and said, in contrast with this, that
sorae raonths ago he had under his care one hundred
Irishmen, and every day he had quarrels among them,
fights, and drunkenness, and often his life was threatened
and in danger; but here he had no trouble. These men
were satisfied with their rations, thankful for employraent,
and quiet and gentle.
They gathered around me, and I preached to them on
the tenderness and pity of our Lord, and that in their
trials and sorrow they might have the assurance of his
help and aid. I likewise reminded thera of the patience
and long-suffering of the Son of God, aud said they, in
imitation of his example, should forgive those who had in
fiicted on them stripes, torn frora thera their chUdren,
and in other ways raade their lives so bitter to them.
They listened with the greatest interest, and some with
tears exclaimed, "Yes, blessed Jesus, we wUl forgive, for
we are great sinners." '
A few days after this, I was walking in the streets of
Alexandria, and heard some one running behind me, and
crying aloud, "Massa, raassa preacher!"
I looked .around and saw a young black man who with
> That petition in the Lord's Prayer — " Forgive us our debts as we forgiva
our debtors " — could not have a more beautiful illustration.

THE POWER OF SYMPATHY. 149
a bearaing face addressed me as an old friend, and said,
" Massa, I can never forget you ; you preached for us last
Sabbath morning at Bealton. We all thanked you, anA
talked afterward of what you said."
The whole appearance of his face was that of one who
had raet a life-long friend. The incident gave rae rauch
food for refiection. What a noble and grateful race have
we been long despising and trampUng under our feet !

xviil. THE POWER OF SYMPATHY.
The human heart is won to the truth much oftener by
syrapathy and example than by argument.
As Miss A  passed through the wards of the soldier's
hospital on B  ¦ Street, dispensing words of comfort and
encouragement to the patients, a middle-aged man, stern
by nature, at times morose, complained to her of a night
of extrerae pain. She expressed to him her syrajDathy in
the kindest raanner, and added, " I hope you felt, though
absent frora loved ones, that you had the presence of a
loving Saviour with you."
He replied harshly, " Miss A  , you spoke to me on
that subject once before ; I wish to say to you, never men
tion it to me again. If I want to be religious, I will send
for a minister, and get his advice."
In a sorrowful tone she bade him good-morning, and
turned away.
One morning after this, as she passed his cot and he was
sleeping, she laid sorae fresh flowers on his pillow and
noiselessly withdrew. As the fever left him, he was dis
posed to sleep much, and she could repeat the act again
and again without his notice. Day after day, his eyes were
greeted with these fragrant messengers, without his having
13*

150 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
seen the hand that brought them to him. He became at
length impatient to know to whora he was indebted for
the grateful favor. He inquired of sorae of those around
hira who could be in the hospital that cared so much for
him. Perhaps secrecy had been enjoined; at all events he
obtained no information.
After several days, when he had become decidedly stronger,
he awoke one raorning, and, instead of the accustoraed
bouquet, he found a neat copy ofthe New Testaraent on his
pillow. At the sight of this, he inquired, "Is Miss A 
in the hospital ? I know it must be she ; will you please
to send for her ? "
On her coming to him, he took her hands between his,
and, with a voice choked with eraotion, exclairaed, " Can
you forgive my rude, ungeutlemanly conduct toward
you ? How could you, after such treatraent, be so kind ? "
" I only want you to know how kind Jesus is, and how
he loves you," was her gentle reply.
Months passed away, and I heard again of the same
man as being in one of our suburban hospitals. He was
still an invalid, but so much better that he was acting as a
nurse, and, in strange contrast with what he had been for
merly, was taking a deep interest in the religious welfare
of the inmates. Happening to speak of his being in the
hospital on B  street, he was asked if he ever saw a
lady. Miss A  , who attended on the sick."
"Miss A  ?"he replied. "Certainly I saw her, and
have cause to remember her. She was the angel of the
hospital, and the means of leading me to a knowledge of
the Saviour." "^ ' See the kindred article on page 68.

A RELIGIOUS SERVICE FOE THE VETERANS. 151

XIX. A EELIGIOUS SERVICE FOE THE VETERANS.
After breakfast at the Commission tent, I started (says
Dr.'fNIarks) in company with a brother in the rainistry,
from Long Island, and two others, for White Sulphur
Springs, around which were the encampraents of the Third
corps. We found the Fortieth New York Regiraent, of which
an excellent brother. Rev. Mr. GUder, is chaplain, drawn
up to hear addresses frora us. This regiment has passed
through all the severe battles of the Army of the Potomac,
and h.as had at different tiraes united to it the Hundredth
New York, the Eighty-seventh and the Thirty-seventh
New York. It is now one of the most powerful in the
service; though it has lost more than twelve hundred men,
by disease and battle.
We had with these veterans a raost interesting service.
The pleasure with which we looked upon the scene was
increased by the presence of all the officers. No congre
gation in the array, that I have had the privilege to ad
dress, ever enlisted my interest like these — none more
awake, none more easily touched. We stand with rever
ence before these raen, for they have been in deaths oft,
and perilled all that is dear to man for their country.
After the services, we went through the camp streets,
and conversed with many whom we had known in the
Peninsula. We found in this regiment many truly pious men, who
had suffered apparently no spiritual loss in consequence of
long absence frora horae and the sanctuary.
At three o'clock, p. m., we went to the camp of the
Fourth Maine, of which the Rev. Mr. Chase is chaplain,
and found assembled the officers and men of the Fourth,

152 MEMORIALS OP THB WAR.
Third, and Seventeenth Maine, for public worship. One
of the streets in carap was selected as the place for
preaching. The raen sat down on blankets, gun-cloths,
and leaves on the ground. A raan of any thought or emo
tion raust stand with the deepest reverence in the pre«nce
of such veterans.
The reranant of these regiraents are the strong dauntless
men who have endured every sacrifice, braved every peril,
and met death a hundred times. These are the men who,
for more than two years, have borne all that to human
imagination is most terrible, in trial, suffering, sickness, pri
vation, and wounds. And yet all has been patiently and
uncomplainingly endured.
The face beaten by so raany storms is bronzed and stem,
reminding one of the appearance of the Roman soldiers as
seen on the monuraents of antiquity. But one has only to
speak to these raen to find there is a heart that still feels,
and to be convinced that the pulses of piety still beat.
I preached to this most interesting assemblage of men,
and rerainded thera of scenes in the Peninsula; of the
long raarches, the storras, and the terrific battles through
which they had f)assed ; how raany of their companions
had fallen, and how deep should be their gratitude, to
tieaven that they were alive. After I had finished, the
other brethren followed and added rauch to the irapression
and interest of the hour. After the service was ended, we
went through the throng conversing with raany.
After night, we went to the camp of the Sixty-third
Pennsylvania, and held a meeting with that and the sol
diers of surrounding regiments. It w-as a spectacle never
to be forgotten. The solemn grandeur of the heavens,
the sUent stars looking down upon us, the multitude of
upturned faces, lighted by the camp-fires, the burst of holy "
song borne afar off and reechoed in murmurs fi-om the

A EELIGIOUS SERVICE WITH THB VETEEANS. 153
valleys, the subdued silence of prayer, the profound and
reverent attention paid to the sermon, the greetings of
hundreds of old friends, and the revival of memories of
marches, battles, and hospitals, raade this night-scene and
worship of the greatest interest.
I was greatly rejoiced, in subsequent conversations, to
find that raany whom I had feared were dead had re
covered from their wounds and were now in the regiraent
or had returned to their horaes. And I gathered from the
conversations of the day, and from tbe feeling raanifested,
that there never was a time in the history of the army
when the men more desired religious instruction or were
so eager to Usten to the gospel.*
' This communication is mider date of October, 1863,

CHAPTER VI.
HAPPY DEATHS OF BRAVE MEN.

I. DEATH OP GENEEAL "MITCHELL.
This distinguished officer died at Beaufort, S, C, on the
evening of Thursday, October thirtieth, 1862, shortly after
his assumption of the coraraand of that district. He had
already perforraed sorae of the most brUliant exploits of
the war, and great hopes rested on hira for the future.
His death was justly regarded as one of the greatest losses
that the country has sustained. His narae will shine with
lustre iu American history, as long as the raeraory of pa
triotism, valor, and genius shall abide among men. A gen
tleman who watched at his bedside has given the foUowing
description of his last hours.
The general, as I stood near hira, reached out his hand,
and taking raine, looked up in my face, and said, "It is a
blessed thing to have a Christian's hope in a time like this."
After an hour, perhaps, he beckoned to me, and feebly
shaking my hand, said, "You must not stay longer; go
now, and come to me in the raorning."
Major Birch, who had been untiring in his attentions,
entered, alraost convulsed with grief He had just taken
down the last will and wishes of his beloved comraander.
He conducted the Rev. Mr. Strickland to the bedside of
the general, and beckoned rae to follow, I did not hear
all the words of the general, as the Rev, Mr, Strickland
stooped to speak to hira ; but I did hear him say, " Kneel
down," and then add the request that he would offer a
154

DEATH OF GENERAL MITCHELL. 155
short prayer. How still he lay while that prayer was ad
dressed to the throne of the God of Battles ! At its conclu
sion, as we rose from our knees, his eyes rested on me, and
his hand was extended again. " You can do me no good,"
said he faintly; "do not stay," His mind seemed per
fectly clear and calra, but he was failing constantly.
Oh, it is a teai-ful sight to us .all to see a father thus
dying at the same hour with his two sons, and they not
know it, — not permitted to treasure up his last words, his
last look; that all these must be given to strangers. But
they are too sick yet to bear the blow; it would shatter
them ; therefore they must be kept in ignorance till a cora
ing hour.
At seven o'clock, p. m., of the sarae day, the writer

General MitcheU has breathed his last. He is gone
fi-om us. Our hopes that were placed on him must be
placed higher, higher. With Victor Hugo, we must learn
to say, " It is not generals or soldiers, but God, who must
give us the victory, in this war of the powers of darkness!"
General MitcheU had entire possession of his faculties
till within an hour or two of his departure, when his
reason seemed to wander. His last intelligent expression
was, "I ara ready to go," His last intelligent look was di
rected to the Rev, Mr. Strickland and when he could speak
no longer, seeing that friend approach, he pointed with his
hand twice toward heaven, and the next raoment his soul
took its fiight thither.*
He died after an illness of four days only. His remains
rest in the shadow of the Episcopal church in Beaufort,
S. C, near those of his aid-de-camp. Captain Williams,
who died two days before him.
1 1 have added a few words to this letter from a supplementary report.

156 MEMORIALS OF THE WAB.

II. THE child's prayer THAT OF THB MAN.
It was the evening after a great battle, AU day long
the din of strife had echoed far, and thickly strewn lay the
shattered forms of those so lately erect and exultant in the
fiush and strength of manhood. Among the many who
bowed to the conqueror Death that night, was a youth in
the first freshness of mature life. The strong limbs lay Ust-
less, and the dark hair was matted with gore, on the pale,
broad forehead. His eyes were closed. As one who min
istered to the sufferer bent over hira, he at first thought
him dead ; but the white lips moved, and slowly in weak
tones he repeated, " Now I lay me dcJWn to deep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep ;
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take ;
And this I ask for Jesus' sake."
As he finished, he opened his eyes, and, meeting the
pitying gaze of a brother soldier, he exclaimed, "My
mother taught rae that when I was a little boy, and I have
said it every night since I can remember. Before the
morning dawns, I believe that God will take my soul for
'Jesus' sake ;' but before I die, I want to send, a raessage
to my raother."
He was carried to a teraporary hospital, and a letter was
written to his raother, which he dictated, full of Christian
faith and filial love. He was calm and peaceful. Just as
the sun arose, his spirit went horae. His last articulate
words were, — " I pray the Lord my soul to take ;
And this I ask. for Jesus' sake."

so THE YOUNG SOLDIER DIED. 157
So died William B  ofthe Massachusetts Volunteers.
The prayer of childhood was the prayer of^ manhood. He
learned it at his mother's knee in his far distant Northern
horae, and he whispered it in dying, when his young life
ebbed away on a Southern battle-field.

in. so THE YOUNG SOLDIER DIED.
"Bring rae ray knapsack," said a young soldier, who lay
sick in one of the hospitals at Washington, and was evi
dently near his end, — " bring me my kn.apsack,"
" Why do you want your knapsack ? " inquired the head
lady of the band of nurses,
"I want ray knapsack," said the young raan again and
yet raore earnestly.
His knapsack was brought to hira, and, as he took it,- his
eye gleamed with pleasure, and a smile passed over his
countenance as he brought out frora it, one after another,
its hoarded treasures.
"There," said he, "that is a Bible frora my mother.
And this — Washington's farewell address — is the gift of
my father. And this "  His voice failed.
The nurse looked down to see what it was, and there
was the face of a beautiful maiden.
"Now," said the dying young soldier, "I want you to
put all these under my pillow,''
She did as she was requested, and the poor sufferer,
overcome by the strength of his feelings and the progress
of disease, laid himself down to die, with the precious
tokens under his head. He directed the meraentos to be
sent to his parents when he should be no more. Calm and
joyful was he as he rapidly breathed his Ufe away. For
11

158 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR,
him it was only passing frora night to endless day, from
death to iramorlaUty, So the young soldier died.

IV. THE LAST MESSAGE.
A young soldier, while dying very happUy in the Douglas
Hospital, in the District of Columbia, broke out in singiiig
the following stanza : —
" Great Jehovah, we adore thee,
God the Father, God the Son,
God the Spirit, joined in glory
On the same eternal throne :
Endless praises
To Jehovah, three in one."
The chaplain then asked him if he had any message to
send to his friends.
" Yes," said he. " Tell ray father that I have tried to
pray as we used to pray at horae. TeU hira that Christ is
now all my hope, all my trust, that he is precious to my
soul. Tell him that I am not afraid to die, — all is calm.
Tell him that I believe Christ will take rae to hiraself^ and
to my dear sister who is in heaven."
The vpice of the dying boy faltered in the intervals
between these precious sentences. When the hyran com
mencing, " Nearer, ray God, to thee," was read to him, at
the end of each stanza, he exclaimed with striking energy,
" O Lord Jesus, thou art coming nearer to rae." Also, at
the end of each stanza of the hyran (which was also read
to him) commencing, —
" Just as I am — witJiout one plea,
But that thy blood was shed for me,
And that thou bid'st me come to thee,
0 Lamb of God, I come,"
he exclaimed, "I come! O Lamb of God, I come!"

SURPRISED, BUT READY. 159
Speaking again of his friends, he said, "Tell my father
that I died happy." His last words were, "Heavenly
Father, I'm coraing to thee ! " Then the Christian soldier
sweetly and calraly fell " asleep in Jesus.''
This scene was witnessed by about twenty fellow-soldiers,
and the effect upon the feelings of all was very raarked.
A Rsraan Catholic, who lay near the dying one, said,
with tears in his eyes, and with strong emotion, "I never
want to die happier than that man did." Another said, " I
never prayed until last night ; but when I saw that raan
die so happy, I determined to seek religion too."

V. SURPRISED, BUT READY.
The clock had just struck the midnight hour, when the
chaplain was summoned to the cot of a wounded soldier.
He had left him only an hour before with confident hopes
of his speedy recovery, — hopes which were shared by the
surgeon and the wounded raan hiraself. But a sudden
change had taken place, and the surgeon had corae to say
that the raan could live but an hour or two at most, and to
beg the chaplain to make the fearful announcement to the
dying man.
He was soon at his side, but, overpowered by his emo
tions, was utterly unable to deliver his raessage. The
dying man, however, quickly read the soleran truth in the
altered looks of the chaplain, his faltering voice and ambig
uous words. He had not before entertained l*doubt of
his recovery. He was expecting soon to see his raother,
and with her kind nursing soon to be well. He was there
fore entirely unprepared for the announcement, and at first
it was overwhelming.
"I am to die, then; and, — how long?"

160 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
As he had before expressed hope in Christ, the chaplain
replied, " You have raade your peace with God ; let death
come as soon as it wUl, he wUl carry you over the river."
" Yes ; but this is so awfuUy sudden, awfully sudden ! "
— his lips quivered; he looked up grievingly — "and I shall
not see my mother."
" Christ is better than a raother," raurraured the cjiaplaiu.
" Yes." The word carae in a whisper. His eyes were
close'd ; the lips still wore that trerabling grief, as if the
chastisement were too sore, too hard to be borne; but as
the minutes passed, and the soul lifted itself up stronger
and more steadily, upon the wings of prayer, the counte
nance grew calmer, the lips steadier; and when the eyes
opened again, there was a light in their depths that could
have come only from heaven.
" I thank you for your courage," he said, more feebly,
taking the hand of the chaplain ; " the bitterness is over
now, and I feel willing to die. TeU ray raother" — he
paused, gave one sob, dry, and full of the last anguish of
earth — "tell her how I longed to see her; but if God wiU
permit rae, I will be near her. Tell her to comfort all
who loved rae, to say that I thought of them all. Tell my
father that I am glad he gave his consent, and that other
fathers will mourn for other sons. Tell my rainister, by
word or letter, that I thought of hira, and that I thank
hira for all his counsels. Tell hira I find that Christ will
not desert the passing soul, and that I wish hira to give
my testimony to the Uving, that nothing is of real worth
but the *Ugion of Jesus. And now, will you pray with
me?" WUh swelling eraotion and tender tones, the chaplain
besought God's grace and presence ; then, restraining his
sobs, lie bowed down and pressed upon the beautiful brow,
ah-eady chiUed with the breath of the coming angel, twice,

NOT DUMB, THOUGH SPEECHLESS. 161
thrice, a fervent kiss. They raight have be.en as tokens
frora the father and raother, as well as hiraself So thought
perhaps the dying soldier, for a heavenly smUe touched his
face with new beauty, as he said, " Thank you ; I won't
trouble you any longer. You are wearied out ; go to your
rest." " The Lord God be with you," was the firm response.
"Araen," trembled from the fast whitening lips. •
Another hour passed. The chaplain stUl raoved uneasily
around his room. There were hurried sounds overhead,
and footsteps on the stairs. He opened his door, and encoun
tered the surgeon, who whispered one little word, "Gone."
Christ's soldier had found the Captain of his salvation.

VI. LOOKING UP.
As the Rev. Mr. Chidlaw was leaving the side of a
dying soldier, in one of the Western hospitals, he heard the
uncomplaining sufferer say, "It is a blessed thing to die
looking up."
" And what does ray brother behold, looking up ? "
"Chfist and heaven," was the prorapt and joyous
response. VII. NOT DUMB, THOUGH SPEECHLESS.
In one of the hospitals near Alexandria lay a youthful
soldier gasping his last breath. He could not speak ; but
by signs he raade his corarade, who was a kind-hearted
though unlettered son of Erin, understand that he wanted
the chaplain. Rev. Mr. B  was soon by his bedside.
" What is it, ray poor boy ? " he said kindly.
The dying youth feebly pointed to his raother's signature
14*

162 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.
in a letter lying beside his pillow, then more feebly to the
dark locks which shaded his pale brow.
The chaplain was quick to catch his raeaning. " Send a
lock of hair to your raother, Jaraes?" The eager nod
answered hira.
" Any raessage, dear boy ? Can you whisper a word of
fareweU?" 1^0, he could not ; his breath was nearly spent. But a
slight moveraent of his finger, first pointing to his heart,
and then upward, was full of significance to the intent eye
of the soldier's friend.
"Yes, Jaraie, I understand, — your soul is resting on
Jesus, you are going to your heavenly home. I shall write
to your mother, and she will bless God amid her tears."
A loving, grateful smile beamed upon the chaplain, and
Jamie was no more.

vm. THE DOCTOR'S YOUTHFUL PATIENT.
An army correspondent of the Philadelphia " Presbyte
rian" gives the following incident as related by a raedical
friend, in the cabin of a Mississippi transport steamer, to a
group of listening soldiers : —
In the town of L  , where I reside and practise my
profession, a company was raised for the  Iowa Regi
raent. Araong the volunteers was a boy" about sixteen
years of age, and known as BUly W  . His home was
a den of iniquity and viCe. His parents were the vUest
of the vUe. I know of no moral, and of but few human,
laws that they did not habitually violate. So far as I
know, BiUy never attended a Sabbath school. I do not
beUeve he ever attended church half a dozen times in his
Ufe; and as to religious knowledge, I regarded hira as little

THB doctor's youthful PATIENT, 163
better than a heathen. Before the corapany left us, every
member of it was furnished with a copy of the New Testa
ment, BUly received his, joined his regiment, went to the
seat of war, and for raonths we heard nothing frora hira.
In the bloody and terrible conflict of Shiloh, in the month
of April last, Billy, the druramer-boy, was dangerously
wounded. He was put upon a cot, placed upon a govern
ment transport, and brought down to Cairo, with other
wounded soldiers. Here a kind Providence seemed to
watch over the boy. His youth, his raanly fortitude, and
, his interesting appearance, enlisted the syrapathies of
strangers, and, instead of being sent to the hospital, "he
was taken upon his cot to the cars and carried to Dixon,
whence he was sent directly to his horae at L  . On
his way frora Pittsburg Landing he contracted a disease
which would, I think, of itself have soon terrainated his
brief life. Iraraediately upon his arrival home, I was called
to visit hira professionally. The news of his arrival had
drawn to the house three or four of our pious women, who
went to rainister to his wants, I saw at once that he raust
soon die, and said to him, —
"Billy, I wUl do all I can for you. I will give you
medicine, but it will, I fear, do you no good. You proba
bly have but a very short time to live,"
' He received the announceraent with a coraposure which
astonished us all. It was evidently not the result of stu
pidity or indifference. A pleasant sraile was upon his
countenance, and there was something about hira which
those of us who had known hira before his enhstraent
failed to coraprehend. After a few raoraents' silence, he
looked up to rae, and said, pleasantly, —
" Doctor, I bless God that I ara not afraid to die. Jesus
is my Saviour. You have been very kind to me, doctor,
and now I have one favor to ask. It is the last request I

«
164 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE.
shall ever make of you. Kneel right down here, by my
bed, and pray for me."
I was astonished. I never supposed the boy knew what
prayer meant, and wondered where he had learned, I was
never so perplexed before,
"Billy," I repUed, "I cannot do that. I try sometimes
to pray for myself, but I have never in my life prayed
audibly in public. You raust excuse me."
"Doctor, I cannot. You can, — you must pray with me."
"But, BUly, I cannot. I will do this, however. We
will get a Bible, and I will read to you a chapter, — some
of the words of the Saviour. Theu we will all kneel
around your bed, and one of these good women will lead
us in prayer."
He assented, though with great reluctance. He was
evidently not satisfied. The one great desire of his heart
seemed to be that I should offer the prayer. After a
moraent's- silence he said to rae, —
"Turn rae upon ray side, doctor, if you please, that I
raay lie with ray face toward you as you read,"
As gently as I could, I turned hira upon his side, A
large Bible was then brought and laid before hira upon the
bed. In an instant he threw his attenuated arms around
it, and pressed it to his heart with iall his remaining
strength. It seemed as if he could not let it go, I
remerabered that Testament, and I knew theu how BUly
had come to love his Bible, and how he had learned to
pray, God seemed to direct me what to read to this dying
boy, I opened at one of those chapters in John's Gospel
so full of precious words, and read it, with a faltering
voice, I assure you, BUly kept the Bible firmly clasped in
his arras, whUe I was reading. As soon as the chapter was
finished, we all kneeled around his bed, while one of the
women offered one of the most appropriate and touching

THE DOCTOR S YOUTHFUL PATIENT, 165
prayers I ever heard. There were no unraoistened eyes there
as we rose fi-ora our knees. Then I bade Billy good-by,
promising to caU and see him in the morning, if he was
then alive. Just as I was leaving the room, one of the
woraen present touched me on the shoulder, and said, —
" Doctor, Billy wishes to see you a moraent."
I went back. As soon as I was near enough, he caught
my hands in his, and said, —
"Doctor, I cannot be denied. You must, — you must
pray with rae."
I could resist no longer; and so, sinking down on ray
knees beside hira, in faltering accents and as best I could,
I comraended that poor, dying boy to the Friend of sinners.
Perhaps the petition was not rejected, I ara not much
given to the raelting raood, but I ara free to say that I
wept then as I never wept before, Billy was satisfied.
He grasped ray hand, and thanked rae as I rose frora ray
knees. We then bade each other good-by a second tirae,
and parted to raeet no raore iu this world. Within the
next hour he died a raost triuraphant and happy death,
and doubtless now stands before the throne with
" A crown upon his forehead,
A harp within his hands."
Such was ray fi-iend's story. Comment could add noth
ing to its point ; and, for some raoraents after its conclu
sion, the silence was unbroken by a single word frora the
little group of attentive listeners. Was there one there
who did not breathe the prayer, " Let rae die the death of
the righteous, and let my last end be like his " ? ^ I hope
not, 1 Numbers xil. 3,

166 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR,

IX. SURELY I COMB QUICKLY.
I have seen (writes the Rev. Mr. Alvord from the army)
a Testaraent pierced with a minie ball which also pierced
the owner's heart. Opening the book, I found name and
date, and penciUing which seemed to indicate premonition.
On one of the fly-leaves he had coraraenced as follows : —
" With tearful eyes I think I see " —
and then, as if he had recollected the verse, he began again,
just below, — " With tearful eyes I look around ;
Life seems a dark and stormy sea;
Yet 'midst the gloom I hear a sound,
A heavenly whisper, — Come to me."
I followed the bullet, and the first passage struck was,
" Surely, I corae quickly. Amen : even so, come. Lord
JesUs." The journey of the messenger frora that passage
to the life of the poor fellow was very short. Tl|e " whis
per " of the herald was scarcely heard ere he was in eter
nity. The rautilated Testaraent, with its touching record,
will be sent horae to raourning friends.

X. THE STUDENT S LAST WISHES.
The chaplain ofthe Eighty-first lUinois Regiraent vouches
for the truthfulness of the scene described below.
The Eighty-third Illinois was stationed at Fort Donel
son at the time of the last battle there, and is well known
for having repulsed an attack of some six thousand of the
enemy, A Christian youth, named Adams, belonged to

THB student's LAST WISHES. 167
this regiment and was severely wounded in the engage
ment. He afterwards lay wasting away day by day in
the hospital. He had enlisted, while he was a raeraber of
college, with a nuraber of others, to fight the battles of
freedora. One day when he was extremely weak, he asked
the physician how long he would probably live,
" Not long," was the reply ; " you are near your end."
"Is it so," he demanded; and was told, "Yes, it is indeed
so." Making then an almost superhum.an effort, he raised his
body, with the heljD of his corajsanions, raany of whora
were standing around his cot, and, stretching forth his eraa-
ciated arras, with a voice faint, but firra, he articulated the
request, "Now corae; give three cheers for the flag of our
Union." His fellow-soldiers gave thera with a will and an
emphasis such as only our brave boys know how to exhibit,
and then awaited his further wishes.
Thus far we have seen in him the traits only of the
dying patriot and hero. But he was more than that. The
dear fellow added then the request, "Now boys, let one of
you kneel do#n and pray." They dropped on their knees.
A Christian comrade led them in prayer. While he was
performing the solemn act, the spirit of young Adams, joyful
and triuraphant, as in a chariot of glory, took its fiight
home! Such a mode of dying becomes a soldier who is a Chris
tian as well as a hero. Such is the power which the religion
of Jesus gives to the behever.

168 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.

XI. THB FAVORITE HYMN.

A workman in Christ's vineyard, who has done much for
our sick and wounded soldiers at Washington, writes to a
friend as follows : —
The hundred hymn-books you sent me will be very use
ful, and, I think, will do much good. There is one hymn
in the book that I can never forget if I five a thousand
years. It is the sixty-third, beginning
" One sweetly solemn thought."
I had held by the bedside of a dying soldier several
prayer-meetings; it was at the Patent Office Hospital, and
the soldiers would gather round the bedside of this inter
esting Christian, and we would pra}' with him and them,
read to thera, talk a little, and sing several pieces out of
the hymn-book. This sixty-third hymn was his favorite,
and he always wanted it sung. We used to sing it to the
sweet tune of " Dennis." One evening, just as the sun was
setting, we went in, and he wanted us to have the prayer-
raeeting. In the course of the service, I leaned over and
asked hira wh.at we should sing. He said,*" My hymn."
We knew very well what that was, and sung it as far as
the conclusion of the third verse, and there we had to
stop. He actually went to "wear his starry crown," just
as we were singing, at his request, those very words.
Last Sunday, I told the story to a company of soldiers
who had just lost a companion, and there was not a tear
less eye araong the listeners.
We raay stand at the grave of such a patriot, and with
trustful heart, may say, —
" One more absent.
The battle done ;
One more left us.
Victory won.

ASLEEP IN JESUS, BLESSED SLEEP. 109
One more buried
Beneath the sod.
One more standing
Before liis God.
Lay him low, lay him low.
Ere the morning break;
Sorrow not, sorrow not.
He minds" not heart-ache.
He is one, he is one.
Of that noble band.
Who have fought, who have died.
For their father-land.
He needs no tears.
An angel now,
A saintly crown
Upon his brow.
We should not -yeep
That he has gone :
With us 'tis night.
With him 'tis mom ! "

xn. "ASLEEP IN JESUS, BLESSED SLEEP ! "
Sergeant John Hanson Thompson was the son of the
Rev. Joseph P. Thompson, D.D., of the City of New York.
He was a youth ofthe finest culture, large-hearted, genial in
his disposition, who gave himself to his country from
motives as pure and lofty as ever actuated patriot or mar
tyr. He was a member of Yale College ; but, at the time
of the alarm which aroused the country, when General
Banks retreated down the Shenandoah valley before the
overwhelming force of Stonewall Jackson, in May, 1862,
the student laid aside his books and enlisted as a private
in the Twenty-secoi^d New York Regiraent, On the ex
piration of the three raonths for which he went out first, he
15

170 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR,
re-enlisted for three years as sergeant in the Hundred and
eleventh New York, He served in this capacity until
March, 1868, when, worn out by exposure and fatigue, he
died at North Mountain, in Virginia, at the age of twenty.
During this brief career, he displayed not only the highest
qualities of the soldier, but a social and Christian spirit
which raade him the darling of his regiraent. Nothing
can exceed the touching interest of the narrative of his
death.'^ In the last letter that the young soldier wrote, after
speaking of the arrival of his regiraent at North Mountain,
he says, —
" A hard raarch of ten railes, in niud and water ; — a
hard one for rae at least, as I was not fully in strength; but
it did me good, I am sure."
His captain and the surgSon had attempted to dissuade
him frora raarching ; but he insisted that he would go with
his men. The men endeavored to'relieve him of his knap
sack, but he insisted that a sergeant should set a good ex
ample to privates, "I never saw," said one of them, "such
courage and energy as the sergeant showed, ,We all
thought he was not equal to the raarch ; but he would not
be relieved. He said that he must be a soldier, and do all
his duty for his country."
He had just been advised that his promotion to a lieu
tenancy was determined upon by the colonel — "Well,"
said he to his inforraant, " if a coraraission coraes to me, of
course, I shall not object; but I do not aspire to it." And
to another he remarked, th.at "he had enlisted with a
determination to do anything for his country; and he
soraetiraes felt that he could serve it better as he was, than
1 It was not my intention to quote from a book so well known ; but the account
of this last scene in the Sergeant's Memorial, the> father's beautiful tribute to
his sou's memory, must forra an exception to the rule.

ASLEEP IN JESUS, BLESSED SLEEP, 171
in some higher office, with more temptations to consult his
own ease."
On the day after the weary march to North Mountain,
he insisted upon taking his regular turn on picket duty,
and for this purpose went out several raUes frora camp.
A snow-storm came up in which he passed the night. The
next raorning, Monday, he barely dragged hiraself back to
carap, and sank down in his tent, with severe syraptoms of
typhoid pneumonia. The surgeon was absent, and there
was no hospital. But after two days, he was removed in
an ambulance to a private house, where he lingered until
the night of the following S.abbath.
The kind fi-iends who wjiited on hira there found him
"so gentle, patient, and uncomplaining in his spirit, and so
delicate and sensitive in his habits, that it was almost im
possible to render him any service. And at the sarae tirae
he was so coraposed and resolute, so cheerful and hopeful,
that it was difficult to realize how sick he was."
A pious captain visited hira for the sake of religious con
versation, knowing nothing of hira personally. "I soon
perceived," he says, "that I was talking with one who was
no stranger to these things; and found him entirely at
peace with God."
Two of his tent-raates watched over hira with brotherly
fidelity, and one of thera reports frora written raeraoranda
the closing scene :
"About 11 p. M., the doctor called to see him; his
breathing was very irregular. The doctor shook his head,
as rauch as to say the case was hopeless. It seeraed that
the sergeant for the first time fully realized his danger.
He asked the doctor if he could stand under it; the doctor
told him he could not. He then asked if it would not be
weU to telegraph to his father. He was told that the cap
tain had already done so. He expressed his satisfaction,

172 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR,
adding, ' I ara so glad ; father will be sure to corae to-mor
row,' He then looked rae full in the face and grasped my
hand and said (calling my given and surname), 'Good-by.'
A cold shudder went through ray frarae, as it was the first
tirae I had ever stood face to face with death. He still
held ray hand and said, ' Send ray love to ray dear father
and raother, brothers, and sisters. I hope to meet them in
heaven.' He made a few requests concerning his personal
effects, then prayed to God to forgive him his sins. After
two or three short prayers, he asked Tanner to sing. He
sang, as well as his voice would permit, a verse commen
cing, ' Asleep in Jesus, blessed sleep ! '
"When he had finished, the Sergeant requested him
to repeat it, which he did with raore composure. He
then asked sorae one to pray; but neither of us had
evey made a prayer, and were silent. He made the re
quest again, but neither of us could say a word. He then
prayed again hiraself. The captain carae in soon after and
tried to revive hira; but he kept gradually sinking until
about a quarter past one, when he settled into a composure
or ease, and breathed raore regular but shorter, until his
breath entir' ky left him at 1.30 a. m., March 16th, 1863."

Servant of God, well done !
Eest from thy loved employ :
The battle fought, the victory won.
Enter thy Master's joy.
At midnight came the cry,
" To meet thy God prepare ! "
He woke — and caught his Captain's eye;
Then, strong in faith and prayer.
His spirit with a bound
Left its encumbering clay;
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground
A daitened ruin lay.

THB LOWLY EXALTED. 173
Soldier of Clirist, well done !
Praise be thy new employ;
And while eternal ages run,
Eest in thy Saviour's joy.

xm, THE LOWLY EXALTED,
In September, 1862 (says a raissionary in the army), I
visited the batttle-field of Antietam. Thousands of poor
soldiers were still lying as they fell upon that field of blood.
Having occasion to procure water frora a farm-yard, I
noticed there what seeraed to be heaps of tattered gar
ments, but beneath thera were the wasted bodies of raen
who had crawled thither and died. Nor were they the
only occupants of the place, for near thera were thirteen
others, still living but desperately wounded. Having re
lieved their wants, I heard the sounds of distress elsewhere,
— they carae frora a stable not far off. There I found
several other raen, whose condition was, if possible, more
deplorable still.
The one whom I approached first had his arm torn
off by a sheU, As I washed the wound, I spoke to him
of the Good Physician, who heals forever the wounds
that sin and Satan have .made in the soul. Turning
from him, I began to speak to another, whose face was
covered by his hat, but there was no reply. The man
next to' hira saw the raistake, and said, " You are too late
there, sir. It is useless to speak to such a sleeper. The
man has been dead these three days,"
I uncovered his face, and found it, alas ! too true. The
probationer had gone beyond the reach of any ministry
for soul or body which man's power can supply.
We then turned sadly to the other side of the stable,
where lay a young man, twenty-three years old. His leg
15*

174 MEMORIALS OP THB WAR,
had been shattered by a shell, and roughly amputated on
the field. The bandage had becorae loosened, and the
wound had burst open, so as to cause for days the severest
suffering. As I stooped over hira, and tried to place hira
in an easier position, I could not help exclaiming, "Poor,
poor fellow ! yours is indeed a sad lot ; alone here, friend
less and dying ! "
But what was my surprise, when, loc*;ing up with a
sweet smile, he said, "My case is not so bad, sir, as it
might be. The raan there (he pointed to the spot), has
been dead these three days."
"What!" I exclairaed, "Have you no coraplaint to
utter?" "Of what should I coraplain?" he said alraost reproach
fully. " Why, sir, I am happier than a prince. I would not
change my place for his, even here."
" And what raakes you so happy ? " I asked,
"I have the presence of Christ," he replied. "-I love
hira who showed his love for rae by being born in a raan-
ger. If I suffer, I reraember that he suffered more for me
than I suffer now,"
I spoke to him of his earlier days, and learned something of
his' history. He had not fled to the Refuge in the hour of
distress for the first tirae. He had been led to put his trust
in the Redeemer in his days of health and prosperity. He
could add his confession to that of " the goodly corapany"
of saints and raartyrs who testify that God is faithful to
those who truly seek his salvation, and imparts to them
the supports of his gi-ace more and more fully as earthly
props fail and pass away.
"Look here, Adair," I said to my companion, in a tone
of exultation. " Corae and see a prince upon his throne!"
We had proof before us that the apostle raeans to aUow
of no exception when he says, "In everything by prayer

WAITING FOR DAY-BEBAK, 175
and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be
made known unto God," ^
We knelt down at the side of the pain-stricken one, and
as our tears flowed, offered up thanksgivings at the remem
brance of Him who had loved this poor soldier, and washed
hira frora his sins in his own blood, and raade him a king
and priest unto God, who could rejoice though his body
was wracked with pain, and a scene of such wretchedness
lay around him.

xrv. WAITING FOR DAYBREAK,
The sermon at my funeral (said a dying soldier), should
be from Solomon's words : — " Until the day break, and
the shadows flee away,"^ He chose that text not so rauch
for his own sake, as for others.
When the present struggle (said the preacher' on that
occasion) shall be over, and it takes its place araong the
sternest and subliraest convulsions by which the powers of
darkness have ever tried to overthrow or hinder the estab
lishment of the kingdora of righteousness and of peace,
the costly offerings which praying fathers and mothers
have laid upon the altar, the setting up the walls in the
blood of the first-born and fairest of our sons, all that has
been done and suffered 'in the awful baptisra of fire
through which we are passing, — it will not seem, then, to
have been too rauch.
Lieutenant Edgar M, Newcorab was the son of such
1 Philippians iv. 6.
2 Solomon's Song li. 17.
3 The sermon was preached by Eev. J. O.- Means, of Roxbury, Mass., in
the Park Street Church, Boston. The writer is indebted to this discourse
(printed but not published) for the material of the present sketch. The synopsis
is longer than usual, but not every soldier who may have deserved as much haa
had the lesson of his life so weU recorded.

176 MEMORIALS 0:E THB WAR,
parents, and the offering up of his life for his country was
one of the "costly sacrifices," respecting which we hesi
tate not to pray that if it be possible God may be
pleased not to require them at our hands. He was born
in 1840, trained in the Gramraar and Latin Schools of Bos
ton, entered the college at Cambridge, and was graduated
there in 1860. It had been his purpose to preach tbe gos
pel, but iU-health compelled hira to relinquish that hope.
He went abroad and" travelled in England and France.
Shortly after his return, the rebellion broke out; and
though he had just entered on raercantile pursuits, he
recognized at once the voice of God in the call of the
governraent for volunteers, tore hiraself away frora the-
allureraents of gain and the charras of home, and entered
the ranks of the army as a coraraon soldier. " He went,"
says one who knew him, " against all the impulses of a ten
der and beautiful nature, in crucifixion of his peaceful and
loving spirit, from the siraple and strong irapulses of
Christian duty. Putting aside his repugnance to that
which might be deeraed hardening in the life of caraps,a
raan of woraanly purity and refineraent, blushing at the
suggestion of anything that would pollute his virtue, as
quickly as at anything that would stain his honor, — with an
instinctive and irrepressible sense of what right demanded,
and with a conscientious and eager readiness to do her
behests, he sprang forward with alacrity, as a child of his
country and of his God."
And what did this shrinking youth become amid the
actualities of war ? " No braver officer or man," says his
captain, "ever stood upon a battle-field than Lieutenant
Edgar M. Newcomb." "Sometimes," says another, "he
spoke in his letters 'of the hardships 'of the poor fellows'
around him ; but he never grumbled about his own fare or
condition; and, in fact, this patient, cheerful endurance

WAITING FOR DAYBREAK, 177
kept him not only in health, but built up his youthful per
son into the stalwart, sinewy, muscular form of an athletic
man," He felt, at length, the enthusiasm of a genuine soldier,
and looked upon the fame of his regiment (which he
did so much to promote) as a part of hiraself Speaking
of the raarch to the Rappahannock, on the eve of the fatal
crossing-' he wrote, " Though we were the last regiment
of the brigade aud division on the march, the latter had
no sooner halted than we passed them all except the
Sixth Michigan, and forraed in line on the bluff overlook
ing the river. Lieutenant-Colonel Devereux could neither
.walk or ride ; otherwise, we flatter ourselves that we should
have been the first. Didn't we feel proud as we raoved
along past the regiraents, which looked on us with a kind
of awe, and whispered, " The Nineteenth Massachusetts."
The Seventh Michigan took the boatg, and filed into them,
twenty in a boat, and without a moraent's delay poled
over the river amid a hail of bullets and the cheers of
thousands of soldiers who crowded the bluff. Never in
my life did I feel as I did when the first boat grounded on
the opposite shore, and its noble crew leaped out and
climbed the bank. Alas ! the first man who landed fell in
the street, mortally wounded. As soon as the boats carae
back we rushed into thera and crossed and ran up the bank.
Iramediately we deployed as skirinishers, and, climbing the
fences, and fiUng through the back gardens, entered the
houses." The eventful months pass away, and we enter the sanc
tuary where the youthful soldier of Christ was trained for
the confiict which he has now finished. His sword and
cap, scarred and riddled with bullets, are laid among the
1 From Fredericksburg, to attack the rebels on the other side of the river.

178 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE,
*.
flowers on his coffin, and the tattered flags of the Nine
teenth Regiment, brought down from the State House, are
crossed behind it. The church is filled with mourners
who listen to the story of his brief, instructive life.
He had shared in all the fourteen battles and skirmishes
of his regiment, and in the desperate forlorn hope of the
passage of the Rappahannock, safe and untouched. But
in the fight of Deceraber thirteenth, after the return to
Fredericksburg, he received a mortal wound,
" The ball," says the captain, " struck the brass band of
his sword, passed through the left leg and grazed the right.
He was wounded while holding the Araerican fiag high
above his head, having just given up the State colors.
The color-sergeants had been shot down one after another,
when Edgar sprang forward and picked up both flags,
holding one in each hand, and called upon the raen to
stand by the colors.'' In this posture, waving the flag and
cheering the men, after bullets had passed through his hat
and blanket and coat aud canteen, he was struck with a
shot which tore his limbs in pieces. He lingered for a
week in the greatest suffering, and died on Saturday, the
thirtieth of December, 1862.
When his time came, he was prepared for it. He had
been faithful and active as a Christian in the camp. He
frequently preached, and held prayer-meetings, and per
formed such religious services that some of the pious chap
lains supposed that he belonged to their number. In his
last hours he earnestly comraended the Saviour in whom
he trusted to officers, soldiers, and friends who called to
see him, "It never seemed before to me so great and
noble a thing to die, I had hoped to preach the gospel,
but I shall serve my country better in heaven."
He sent messages to the absent ones. " Tell raother I
could not die in a hoher cause, or more happy," — "It is aU

WAITING FOE DAYBREAK, 179
light ahead," — "Prepare to meet me in heaven," — "I am
only going to a different sphere of labor, and shall be as
near you as ever," — " To live is Christ and to die is gain."
He asked that no words of praise should be put on his
tomb-stone, but siraply, " Lieutenant Edgar M, Newcomb,
ofthe Nineteenth Massachusetts." His last thoughts were
not for himself, but the welfare of mankind. The property
at his disposal he devised equally to the Societies for Home
and for Foreign Missions.
His last letter was written on Saturday morning, and
was in his pocket when he fell. The last sentence in that
letter was, " C. thinks I owe my present safety to the
prayers of my friends. I have often thought the sarae;
and when I consider the teraptations of this most trying
Ufe, my protection from sin is more marvellous than from
wounds and death. Good-by."
Tes, " UntU the daybreak and the shadows flee away ! "
" How cahn and blest
The dead now rest.
Who in the Lord departed;
All their works do follow them.
Yea, they sleep glad-hearted.
"Oh! blessed Eock!
X.eave grant thy iiock
To see thy Sabbath morning;
Strife and pain will all be past,
When that day is dawning."

CHAPTER VII.

OUR DEPENDENCE ON GOD FOR SUCCESS,

I, THE PEESIDENT S JOUENEY TO WASHINGTON,
On the eleventh of February, 1861, Mr. Lincoln left
Springfield, Illinois, to proceed to Washington to be inau
gurated as President of the United States, on the fourth
of March following. The first words clothed with any
thing like official significance, addressed by hira to the
country after his election, were those which he uttered on
this journey to the capital. Those- who raay read those
words in future times can form but a faint idea of the
relief and encouragement which they brought to anxious
hearts in the hour when clouds of distrust and fear, of civil
discord and anarchy so darkened our sky.
It is the part of true statesmanship, as well as of piety,
to feel at all tiraes that "Except the Lord build the house,
they labor in vain that build it ; except the Lord keep the
city, the watchraan waketh but in vain,"^ The Presi
dent's avowal of this truth, in terras so unreserved and
earnest, as he approached the great work allotted to him,
reassured the Christian heart of the nation, and inspired
us with hope in the wisdom and success of his administra
tion. It adds to the suggestive import of his language, under
such circumstances, to remember that the President elect
was pursuing his way to the seat of government at that
' Psalm cxxvii. 1. 180

THE peesidbnt's JOURNEY TO WASHINGTON, 181
very time, through a band of hired assassins, who were
watching, as he went from city to city, for an opportunity
to slay him.
The train which was to bear him away started at an
early hour in the morning ; but more than a thousand peo
ple had collected at the station to bid adieu to their friend
and neighbor. After shaking hands with his raore inti
mate friends, he addressed the crowd as follows : —
"My Friends: — No one not in ray position can appre
ciate the sadness I feel at this parting. To this people I
owe all that I ara. Here I have lived raore than a quarter
of a century ; here my children were born, and here one
of thera hes buried. I know not how soon I shall see you
all again. A duty devolves upon me which is perhaps
greater than that which has devolved upon any other man
since the days of Washington. He never would have suc
ceeded except for the aid of divine Providence, upon which
he at all tiraes relied. I feel that I cannot succeed without
the sarae divine aid which sustained hira, and on the same
Almighty Reirrg I place my reliance for support. I hope
you, my friends, will all pray that I raay receive that
divine assistance, without which I cannot succeed, but
with which success is certain. I bid you all an affectionate
farewell." Expressions of approbation, tearful greetings, and cries
of "We will pray for you," followed the delivery of these
remarks. During the speech Mr. Lincoln betrayed much
emotion, and the crowd was affected to tears.
At Columbus, Ohio, he reraarked in the sarae strain, —
" I cannot but know, what you all know, that without a
public name, perhaps without a reason why I should have
such a name, there has fallen upon me a task such as did
not rest even upon the Father of his country ; and, so feel
ing, I cannot but hope for the support without which it
16

182 MEMORIALS OP THE WAE.
will be impossible for me to perform that great task. I
turn and look to the American people, and to that God
who has never forsaken them,"
At another point of his progress, SteubenviUe, in the
same State, Mr, Lincoln further said, —
" I fear that the great confidence which seems to exist
in ray ability is unfounded ; indeed, I ara sure it is, encom
passed as I am by such vast difficulties, I can only say
nothing shall be wanting on my part, and I hope to be sus
tained by the Araerican people and the blessing of God,
who alone can prosper my endeavors,"

n. THE PRAYER AT PORT SUMTER,
During the Christmas night of Deceraber 1860, Major
Anderson, commandant at the harbor of Charleston, S. C,
with his little garrison of only sixty effective men, passed
stealthUy from Fort Moultrie to Fort Sumter. This unex
pected raoveraent was the spark which electrified the
nation. The storm of civil war might not burst at once,
but it was seen now to be inevitable. Here was the
opening act of the great draraa which was to end in the
triuraph of law, civilization, and liberty, or in the subver
sion of the republic, and the reign of anarchy, barbarism,
and slavery. Major Anderson deeply felt the responsi
bility and iraportance of the step he had taken. He gave
expression to that feeling by a siraple but significant act.
The flag which he had brought from Moultrie was to be
thrown to the bi;eeze frora Surater, The ceremony was
fixed for twelve o'clock, the noon of December twenty-
seventh. The coramander assembled his little force and
the workraen employed on the fortifications, at the foot of
the flag-staff. His own heart led him naturaUy to God, as

THE PRAYER AT FOET SUMTER. 183
now the only efficient helper. He was anxious to bring
those with hira into syrapathy with hiraself in this critical
hour. The chaplain stood forth and stated the object of
the service. The flag which they were there to defend as
the symbol ofthe national unity and life was then attached
to a cord, and Major Anderson, taking the ends in his
hands, knelt down, while the officers and raen, with heads
uncovered, gathered around him. The chaplain then
prayed. He comraended the little band, their cause, and
the country, to God, the arbiter of nations. His petitions,
his tones, bespoke the earnestness of one who felt that if
saved it must be because man's extremity is God's opportu
nity. As the fervent, heaven-winged words ofthe speaker
ceased, and the raen responded a hearty " araen," the cora
mander hauled up the fiag to the top of the staff. The
band saluted it with " Hail Columbia," the accents of sup
plication gave place to those of enthusiasm, and cheers
after cheers broke from the Ups of all present.
Just at that moraent, a boat arrived from Charleston, and
the traitors whora it brought heard in those shouts the
vows of men who resolved in their hearts that the old flag
should suffer no dishonor while it reraained in their hands.
History will record how well they kept those vows during
the four weary months they were iraprisoned there without
succor frora the governraent, and the two fearful days in
which the starved garrison held out against the concen
tric fire of so many batteries.
A gifted writer^ has well represented the spirit ofthe
transaction : — " Who doth that flag defy, —
We challenge as our foe ;
Who wiU not for it die.
Out from us he must go !
1 The late Dr. Bethune, of New York.

184 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
So let them understand;
Who that dear flag disclaim
Which won their father's fame,
We brand with endless shame;
God for our native land.
" Our native land ! to thee
In one united vow.
To keep thee strong and free
And glorious as now —
We pledge each heart and hand;
By the blood our fathers shed,
By the ashes of our dead.
By the sacred soil we tread,
God for our native land."

in, AN ALTAR IN THE TENT.
The victories of General Burnside have been among the
most important of the war. No one has been more enter
prising or uniformly successful than he. It is well known
that where he pitches a tent, there he erects an altar, and
prayer and worship are among the daily occupations.
When he was planning his expedition to Newbern and
Roanoke, "It was my fortune," says Bishop Clarke, of
Rhode Island, "to occupy the same room with him in
Washington , and every morning and every evening, we
used to kneel down together, and pray for the blessing of
God on his solemn work,"
That blessing ensures success, and without it all man's
efforts may be baffled. That blessing this noble coramander
seeks, and desires that others should seek for him. There
is not a right-thinking man in the land who does not
respect hira for that trait of character, and feel the more
confidence in him, or any one like him, for such reUance
on the strength of the Mighty One.

THE PURITAJT SPIRIT. 185

rv. THE PURITAN SPIRIT.
The religious eleraent has always been acknowledged as
a great power in railitary success. The raore intelligent
that principle is, the more efficient it must be in securing
this result. There is every reason, natural as well as
rational, why those who hold their lives in their hand
should acknowledge the God of battles, and pray for them
selves and their country in the midst of danger. The sim
plest expression of the relations of " praying and fighting "
was, perhaps, the blunt order of the Puritan chief: " Put
your trust in God and keep your powder dry." CromweU
and his praying Puritans were dangerous men to raeet in
battle. The " sword of the Lord and of Gideon," was ex
ceeding sharp, tempered as it was with hourly prayers.^
The Cavaliers affected to despise, but feared the "cant" of
the Roundheads, and imitated them as they repeated their
Collects for church and King. " O Lord," said one of
thera, " if -I forget Thee, as in the press of battle I raay, do
not thou forget rae."
There is something sublime in the spectacle of Gustavus
Adolphus and his vast array, on the eve of the battle of
Lutzen, in which he fell, praying on bended knee, and then
chanting, — " Be of good cheer ; your caifie belongs
To Him- who can avenge your wrongs;
Leave it to Him, our Lord."
The king fell, but the battle was gloriously won.
1 "That which chiefly distinguished the army of Cromwell," says Macaulay,
" from other armies was the austere morality and the fear of God which per
vaded their ranks." Hence, though " often surrounded by ditBculties, sometimes
contending against tljreefold odds, they not only never failed to conquer, but
never failed to destroy and break in pieces whatever force was opposed to them.
16 *

186 MEMORIALS OP THE WAE,
And SO, unless we are untrue to our better nature, it
must ever be. Before going into battle the foolish, wicked,
unmeaning oath is silent. With the bracing of the nerves,
there goes up a silent prayer for strength and valor and
deliverance. The wounded pray to be saved from death ;
the dying recall the words of old petitions learned in their
childhood, and in these broken accents commit their souls
to God.
On the battle-field of Gettysburg, where the morale of
the Northern troops was put to the severest test, were
found, broad-strewn. Bibles and prayer-books. Carried in
coat-bosorns or pockets, they came forth in the bitter
moment, a solace to the wounded and dying, and a proof
that soldiers pray as well as fight.
All honor and thanks to the worthy chaplains who foster
this noble spirit, and to the philanthropic men who care
for the soldier's interest at horae, taking with them, in
timely visits on battle-fields, and in crowded hospitals,
comforts for the poor suffering mortal bodies, and holy
books and words of prayer for the well-being of the immor
tal souls.^ V, A REGIMENT ON THEIR KNEES.
A letter, written from our array while in pursuit of the
rebels in Maryland, says, —
The troops raarch with alacrity, and seem in good spirits.
Last evening, I beheld a sight that might well remind one
of a scene in Cromwell's camp ; — it was that of a whole
company attached to a Philadelphia regiment, kneeling
They at length came to regard the day of battle as a day of certain triumph, and
marched against the most renowned battalions of Europe with disdaiuM con
fidence." Never be ashamed of the Puritan spirit.
1 Mostly an extract, but at this moment I have lost the reference.

NATIONAL FAST IN THE ARMY. 187
upon the ground with every mark of reverence, at the
hour of then- worship.
They had just bivouacked for the night after a weary
and dusty raarch. It was in a grove of majestic trees,
which resounded with strains of sacred music and the
voice of prayer intermingled. The bright beams of a
full moon fell upon the forms of the prostrate soldiers
through the branches. It seemed at the raoraent like a
symbol of the bearaing face of Deity, giving answers of
peace to suppliants for his grace and protection. Some en
tire- companies in the army are raade up of men who
belong to churches.
The impression was unique, and no description can con
vey it to another.

, VI. NATIONAL FAST IN THE AEMY.
A joint committee of both Houses of Congress waited
on the President and requested hira " to recoraraend a day
of public hurailiation, prayer and fasting, to be observed
by the people of the United States with religious solem
nities, and the offering of fervent supplications to Alraighty
God for the safety and welfare of "these States, his blessing
on their armies, and a speedy restoration of peace,"
The President, in compliance with this request, ap
pointed the last Thursday in September, 1861, as a day in
which we should "recognize the hand of God in this terri
ble visitation, and in sorrowful remerabrance of our own
faults and criraes as a nation, and as individuals, humble
ourselves before him, and pray for his raercy, — pray that
we raay be spared further punishment, though most justly
deserved; that our arms raay be blessed and made effec
tual for the reestablishment of law and order and peace.

188 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR,
throughout the wide extent of our country ; and that the
boon of civil aud religious liberty, earned under his guid
ance, may be restored in all its original excellence,"
It raay be worth while to record an example of the
manner in which this fast was kept in the army, at that
critical moment in the prosecution of the war, A corre
spondent of the " Traveller " thus describes its observance in
General Banks's Division, then stationed on the Upper
Potomac : —
Yesterday, the fast-day appointed by the President was
observed in this Division in a marked method. All drill
was omitted of course. Public services were held in a rare
manner. In accordance with a general order, all the Tegi-
raents in the immediate locality assembled in a beautiful
field at the entrance of Darnestown village, with fuU
ban'ds, and the artillery and cavalry. The Major-General,
Brigadiers, and other high officers, attended in full unifoi-m,
A raarch, varying from a very short distance to a mile and
a half, brought all together, when the infantry formed in
mass, fianked by artillery and cavalry.
Six chaplains officiated. Assistant Adjutant-General
Drake read the General's order. Chaplain Gaylord, of the
Twelfth Massachusetts, read the President's Proclamation
in a most irapressive manner. Chaplain Reed, of the
Thirtieth Pennsylvania, offered the opening prayer. Chap
lain Sewall, of the Twenty-ninth Pennsylvania, read selec
tions of Scripture, and the hymn,
" My conntry, 'tis of thee."
Chaplain PhUlips, of the Ninth New York, offered prayer.
Chaplain Quint, of the Second Massachusetts, read the
Array Hyran, and also made the address of the day; and
Chaplain Lasher, of the Fifth Connecticut, offered the con-

THE AEMY HYMN. 189
eluding prayer, and, after the Doxology, pronounced the
Benediction. The grand mass of soldiery, as brigade after brigade
took their places in perfect order ; the great number of
State and National banners floating in the breeze ; the
respect of the men, with the devoutness of raany, and
especially the majestic rausic of the united bands pouring
out " America " and " Old Hundred," in which blended a
multitude of voices, made it a scene long to be remembered.
The author of the " Army Hymn " has never yet heard his
own poem sung in aU its majesty. He never will till he
hears it from thousands upon thousands of raen in aictive
service, waiting irapatiently for the order to advance to
victory, with the sunUght playing upgn sabres of dragoons,
on the pieces of artUlery caps, and on a forest of bayonets.

¦vn. THE AEMY HYMN.
After the allusion to this noble lyric in the last paragraph,
the reader raay be pleased to read it again in this connec
tion. The hyran becarae popular at once ; and not least
because the earnest raoral tone which pervades it found
its echo in every patriotic heart.
The author added the last verse but one when the
President's Proclamation of Emancipation went into effect,
on the first of January, 1863.

0 Lord of Hosts ! Almighty King!
Behold the sacrifice we bring !
To evei:y arm thy strength impart.
Thy spirit shed through every heart !

190 MEMOEIALS OP THB WAR.
Wake in our breasts the living fires,
The holy faith that warmed our sires ;
Thy hand hath made our Nation free;
To die for her is serving thee.
Be thou a pillared flame to show
The midnight snare, the sUent foe ;
And when the battle thunders loud,
Stm guide us in its moving cloud.
God of all nations I sovereign Lord !
In thy dread name we draw the sword.
We lift the starry flag on high
That fills with light our stormy sky.
No more its flaming emblems wave.
To bar from hope the trembling slave;
No more its radiant glories shine
To blast with woe oue child of thine!
From treason's rent, from murder's stain,
Guard thou its folds till Peace shall reign,
TUl fort and field, till shore and sea.
Join our loud anthem, Pkaise to thee !

VHI. GENERAL ANDERSON IN THE SUNDAY SCHOOL,
General Anderson, the hero of Fort Sumter, on the in
vitation of a Christian friend, visited a German Sunday
school in Cincinnati, Ohio, The golden words which he
spoke to the members of the school on that occasion
should be treasured up in the hearts of all the chUdren and
youth of the land.
My dear friends and children (said he), I did not expect,
when I came here, to be asked to address you. It may he
well, perhaps, for rae to say a few words, I have been
placed, providentially, in a situation which has turned the
attention of the country to rae and to ray little band. But
I would not have you misunderstand me or my position.

GENERAL ANDERSON IN THB SUNDAY SCHOOL, 191
If I have been led wonderfully through many 'and great
perils, I wish you to ascribe it to the right causes. No
unaided power of man, no skill or bravery of our own,
could have saved me and ray corapanions, I ara not
ashamed, ray young friends, to declare the truth, I say
openly, that no event, no transaction of any interest or ira
portance to our cause, took place while I was in Fort
Sumter, without ray looking to God in the raorning of
each day for his blessing on us, I besought hira to give
me a spu-it of wisdom to learn and obey his will, I
besought hira to give rae strength of purpose and energy
to perform my duty to him, and to my country. None
of the credit, therefore, of what was done belongs to me.
It belongs to him who cares for us and who, if we commit
our ways to him, will give to us all needful success.
Before I left Fort Sumtfer, I was adraonished that I
might be in raore danger frora ray friends than I had been
frora eneraies. Some who wished well to me wrote that
I must be on my guard, and not be spoiled by flattery.
The advice was well timed ; but I trust God has saved me
frora that danger, I say again, I do not feel that I ara
to take to rayself the least credit for what has been done.
It was God who put it into my heart to decide and act as
I did. Therefore, my young friends, I would urge upon all of
you to look to God in the transactions of life you may be
called on to perforra. Each individual has transactions to
perform as raoraentous to hira as what I have perforraed is
to me. Each one of you has to gain or lose for himself
the true end of his being here and hereafter. The destiny
of each one depends, under God, on his own actions. I
would have you all put your trust in God. Do that with
a humble heart, and you will be blessed in this life and

192 MEMORIALS OF THB WAB.
prepared for everlasting blessedness in that which is to
come. I Can say no raore.

IX, PRAY FOR THE PRESIDENT,
It is irapossible to read the foUowing words of the chief
magistrate of the country and not be convinced that they
are prompted by the real feelings of his heart. It is evi
dent that the cares of office have not dirainished his sense
of the difficulties of his position,^ or of his need of the
guidance and wisdora which " God giveth liberally to thera
that ask him, and upbraideth not." Pray for the Presi
dent. On Saturday, October fourth, 1863,' the members of a
Synod of the Presbyterian Church, holding their annual
session in Washington, went to the executive mansion in
that city, and were received by the President, The
Moderator stated that the Synod wished, as a body, to
pay to him their respects, and offer to him their salutations.
Each member, he added, claimed to belong to the kingdom
of God, and was loyal to the government.
The President, in reply, spoke as follows : —
" I can only say, in this case, as in so raany others, that I
ara profoundly grateful for the respect given in every
variety of form in which it can be given from the religious
bodies of the country, I saw, upon taking ray position
here, I was going to have an adrainistration, if an adrainis
tration at all, of extraordinary difficulty.
"It was, without exception, a tirae of the greatest diffi
culty this country ever saw, I was eariy brought to a lively
reflection that, with nothing in my power whatever, or in
that of others, on which I could rely, no undertakings of
1 See page 180,

FAITH AND WORKS. 193
mine could succeed without direct assistance of the
Almighty. I have often wished that I was a raore devout
man than I ara ; nevertheless, araid the greatest difficulties
of ray administration, when I could not see any other
resort, I would place ray whole reliance on God, knowing
all would go well, and that he would decide for the right.
"I thank you, gentleraen, iu the narae of the religious
bodies which you represent, and in the name of our com
mon Father, for this expression of respect, I cannot say
more." The raerabers of the Synod were then severally intro
duced to the President.

X. FAITH AND WORKS.
An exaraple of self-denying patriotisra like the following
deserves to be put on lasting record. In July of the pres
ent year, the Rev. D. B. Bradley, a self-supporting raission
ary of the Araerican Missionary Association, of Bangkok,
Siam, sent an order to the treasurer of that society, to
pay over to the United States three hundred dollars on
Dr. Bradley's account. This patriotic raissionary writes as
follows : —
"I regard the war, on our part, as one of the most
righteous that was ever waged, and I see the hand of God
in it so distinctly, and his raerciful purposes for those raill
ions of our enslaved brethren at the South so gloriously
fuUiUing, that my whole heart ascends to God in prayer
continually for our cause. And while I pray, I feel that I
must also contribute what I can from ray small resources
to the raillions of money that wUl yet be needed to com
plete the great and glorious work of our governraent now
17

194 MEMOEIALS OP THE WAE.
in hand. Please, therefore, to pay over to the department,
as soon as you well can, the sura above named."
Dr. Bradley makes the fact that he has a son who is of
age to serve in the array the occasion of this contribution ;
though the son, not being a resident in this country, would
be exempted from military duty.
The Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. Chase, in acknowl
edging the remittance, says that this "noble expression
of love of country in an American missionary," who, out
of his personal earnings, " in the far-off kingdom of Siam,
sends so considerable an amount to the Treasury " of his
struggling country, fills him "with admiration," and inspires
hira " with confidence that a people whose sons in remote
regions exhibit such devotion to their country cannot faU
in the speedy suppression of a rebellion the most unpro
voked and the most iniquitous recorded in history."

CHAPTER VIII.
INCIDENTS OP THE CAMF AND BATTLE-FIELD.
The contents of this chapter are miscellaneous. Some
of the pieces might have been assigned to the other chap
ters, but were not at hand in tirae to be inserted there.
Sorae of the incidents, also, take a wider range as to their
import than those of the bulk of the volurae.

I, HOW A BODY WAS IDENTIFIED.
The consecration of the National Ceraetery at Gettys
burg, Pennsylvania, on the nineteenth of November, 1863,
brought to that place raany relatives of the slain soldiers
who were anxious to recover and identify the bodies of
sons, brothers, and husbands. Among these was a beauti
ful lady frora Han-isburg, who had been raarried to one of
the Thirteenth Massachusetts Regiraent shortly before the
battle, but who had heard nothing frora hira or of hira
since the first day of the fight. She had gone to Balti
more to ascertain if he had been taken prisoner, and had
visited the hospitals there and in other places, hoping to
find sorae acquaintance of her husband who could give
her sorae clew to his fate. All her efforts were unavailing.
On the battle-field, near where the Thirteenth had fought,
were twenty " unknown " graves, which, at her request, the
coraraittee of the ceraetery allowed her to open. The
earth was removed and the bodies exposed to view, one
195

196 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR,
after another, but without her discovering the object of
her search. At the last raoment, as she was about to turn
away in despair frora the last of the twenty graves, her
eye caught sight of a button upon the overcoat of the
buried soldier. She knew instantly that the remains of
her husband were before her. In a previous battle, this
button had been struck by a ball, and indented in a pecul
iar manner. The officer had promised to leave it with her
as a memento of the danger escaped, but in the haste of
departure had forgotten to do so ; and now there it was, —
the only raeans of enabling her to discover the fate of him
to whom she had so lately comraitted the hopes of her
young life.

n. DREAD OF TEMPTATION,
In an address at the Music Hall, in Boston, Mr, WendeU
PhUlips related the following instance of heroic firraness
on the part of a soldier who felt that he had other enemies
to fear than those of the battle-field : —
I know a soldier in the Army of the Potoraac, who was
picked up iu the streets of Philadelphia one year ago, a
complete wreck, a confirmed inebriate, but who was, by
the love of a sister and the charity of a Boston home,
placed once more on his feet.
He was at BaU's Bluff, and- three times, with unloaded
musket, charged upon the enemy. * He was one of the six
who heroicaUy defended and brought away the body of
the faUen leader of that bloody fight. The captain of the
company to which he belonged died in his arras, receiving
the last words of consolation from his lips. He was after
wards conspicuous iu the conflict untU the orders were
given for each one to seek his own safety. Reraoviug

USE YOUE TALENTS, 197
sorae of his apparel, he plunged into the inhospitable river,
and after great exertion landed on the opposite b.ank, seven
mUes below the encampraent. Nearly exhausted, chiUed,
half-clad, half-starved, he finally reached the camp.
The captain of the next corapany to which he belonged
kradly said to hira, pouring out a glass of wine, " Let rae
give you this ; you will perish without it."
" I thank you, sir," said the soldier, " but I would sooner
face aU the cannon of the eneray than taste that glass of
wine," m, USE YOUR TALENTS.
" And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another oue." '
There are many warm hearts and willing hands in the
world, anxious, eager to do good ; yet because they have
not the abUity to do precisely what they see others perform
in walks of usefulness, they are often discouraged, and
sometimes idle. That each person is gifted with power to
be useful in sorae way, let us Ulustrate by a story which is
a true one.
A young lady was heard to say, " I wish I could do
something for ray country; I would wilUngly becorae a
nurse in a hospital, but I have not the physical strength.
What can I do ? "
A fiiend rephed, " Tou can sing."
"Tes, I can sing, but what of that?"
"Go to one of the hpspitals, and sing for the soldiers."
The idea pleased her. She accorapanied a friend who
was long used to such visits, and who introduced her by
saying to the patients, " Here is a young lady who has
corae to sing for you."
At the mere announcement, every face was aglow with
1 Matthew xxv. IS.
17*

198 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR,
animation, every eye was riveted upon her with expectant
pleasure. She sang a few songs, commencing with the
glorious " Star Spangled Banner." As the thrilling notes
of that song rang through the apartment, one poor man,
who had been given up by the physician as an almost
hopeless case, raised himself in his cot, leaned his head
upon his hand, and drank in every note like so much nectar.
The effect was electrical. From that moment he began to
amend, and finally recovered.

IV. EARLY IMPRESSIONS BBVIVBD.
A man was wounded on the first day of the fight at
Shiloh, concerning whom an interesting fact was ascer
tained. He lay all Sunday night in a tent held by the rebels, on
the ground, in the mud, without syrapathy or care. During
that long and terrible night, araid the rain and the roar of
artillery, there came vividly back to him the text and all
the argument of a serraon he had heard twenty years
before. The next day, when our troops were raore success
ful, he was rescued, cared for, and taken to St. Louis, where
he was found by certain raerabers of the Toung Men's
Christian Association, and treated with the tenderness
which he so much needed in mind and body. ¦
The Holy Spirit brought home to his heart the impres
sions of that night ; and the seed, buried for twenty years,
and apparently lost, sprang up and brought forth fruit in
his conversion. He lived six weeks to give testimony to
God's goodness, and died in joy and hope. The last words
he uttered were, "My God, my country, my mother!"

UNMARKED GEAVESv 199

V. UNMARKED GRAVES.

Among the touching sights reported by those who ex
plored the battle-field of Fair Oaks, in order to bury the
dead and minister to the wounded, was the following : —
In oue portion of the field, lying apart by themselves,
, were four dead soldiers. They had crept together and laid
each a right hand upon that of his comrade, and thus died,
A paper lay upon the breast of one of thera, and a pencil
near by on the ground, showing what their last work had
been, ^
It is hard to think of leaving the world and having all
trace of our fate hidden forever frora those dear to us. To
furnish the possible raeans of sorae iuforraation respecting
them, one of the men had written on the paper, with a
faltering hand, —
"Four dying soldiers. Be kind enough to give us a
decent burial,"
And then below these words were written the four naraes
ofthe slain raartyrs. We wept as we buried thera together
where they had lain ; and, placing over thera a tablet with
the names they had so touchingly bequeathed to us, we
enclosed the grave by a little railing, and left them to their
last long sleep, " The sea shall give up its dead," and so,
also, shall the battle-field, bUlowy with unraarked graves,
— unmarked save by "His eye which seeth every precious
thmg,"i 1 Job xxviu. 10.

200 MEMORIALS OP THE AVAR.

VI. SPIRIT OF SIRE AND SON,
The battle of Lexington was fought on the nineteenth
of AprU, 1775, and the first Massachusetts volunteers were
mobbed on the sarae day ofthe raonth, 1861, in the streets
of Baltiraore, They were the first men who responded to
the call of the President for seventy-^five thousand soldiers,
after the capture of Surater, Such was their proraptitude
that sorae of them left their horaes at midnight, and, press
ing their way through a storm of driving sleet, were in
Boston under arras, awaiting orders to march, before
anothei' sun had risen, after their receiving the summons.
That promptitude had much to do with saving the govern
ment. Without it, the boast of the rebels, when they
jslanted their flag on Sumter, might have been made good.
Before the end of May, that flag raight have floated from
the capitol at Washington, and the savage eye of the
slave power have been glaring dowu upon us from the
turrets of the captured city.
As one of these regiments was passing through New
Tork, a gentleman of that city met one of its merabers on
the street,
"Is there anything I can do for j'ou?" said the New
Torker, whose heart warmed toward the representative of
the brave Massachusetts raUitia who had been so prompt
to shoulder the rausket.
The soldier hesitated a moment, and finally, raising one
of his feet, exhibited a boot with a hole in the toe, and, in
other respects, decidedly the worse for wear.
"How came you here with such boots as those, my
friend ? " asked the patriotic citizen.
"When the order carae for rae to join my corapany, sir,"
replied the soldier, " I was ploughing in the same field at

THE UNKNOWN CHILDREN, 201
Concord where my grandfather was ploughing when tha
British fired on the Massachusetts men at Lexington, He
did not wait a moraent; and I did not, sir."
It is needless to say that the soldier was iraraediately
supplied with a full equipraent for all his wants, and with
a " God-speed " was sent forward on his way.

VH. THE UNKNOWN CHILDREN.
A gentleraan from Philadelphia, who was at Gettysburg
as a volunteer surgeon, obtained there a raost touching
relic of that terrible battle. It was a melainotype, or an
ambrotype on iron of three children, and was taken from
the hands of a dead soldier who belonged to the Union
army. He had been mortally wounded, and crawled to a
sheltered place, where his body was found, with the picture
of his children so placed that his eyes could rest upon it in
his dying moraents. There was no clew to his narae, or
his regiraent, or his forraer j)lace of residence. He had
evidently carried it with him into battle, and that image
perhaps of a motherless group that must be cast henceforth
upon God's fatherhood shows with what thoughts it was
hardest for hira to struggle in death.
Of the children in the picture, two were boys and one a
girl, aU of thera with features of uncommon beauty. The
oldest, a boy, is seated in the centre, the youngest, a boy,
on the other's right hand, and a little girl on' the left. The
picture had a flat gilt frame, and probably had been sent to
the soldier frora home in a letter. It is to be hoped that
it may find its way yet into the hands of some of the rela
tives of the deceased father.^
1 Since this paragraph was laid aside for insertion here, the identity of the un
known soldier has been ascertained. His name was Humiston, and his widow
and three children Uve at Portville, Cattaraugus County, New York. The pub
licity given to the circumstance led to tliis discovery.

202 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.

VIH. A MOTHER S LOVE.
It was early raorning, on the first day of May, 1863, that
the regiraent of which the writer is a meraber left its
bivouac in a thick grove of young oaks, and started at a
quick step down a wide road leading to the faraed city of
Fredericksburg, Virginia.
A battle was expected. We felt that life was uncertain,
and that ere another sunset, sorae of our nuraber would be
called to their long account ; but stern duty beckoned us
on, and we advanced to the intrenchments which the
rebels had thrown up during the night to stop our progress.
Our regiment, which led the raain column, immediately
deployed as skirmishers, and advanced at a double-quick
toward the battery which the confederates now opened on
the line of battle forming behind us ; while their skirmish
ers, concealed by fences and trees, poured a galling fire
upon us.
Some few yards in front of my position stood a log-
house, looking as thrifty as most Virginia houses. Just at
this moment, while shells were screaming overhead, and
the ground was torn with rifle-balls, a woman rushed out
of this house and started toward our line. She had gone
hut a few steps, however, when she stopped ; and then
darting back into the building, against which the bullets
now fell like rain, almost immediately reappeared with an
infant in her arms, and again started toward the array of
armed men who had now nearly reached the hut. Our
raen at this instant stopped the firing. Every one's eye
was fixed with intense interest on the mother as she sped
like a frightened deer toward a place of safety; and
although the bullets fell liks hail around her, and several
(as I afterward learned) actually pierced her dress, she

THE VALUE OF SECONDS, 203
never faltered until she passed through our line, which
closed behind her, and then she fell fainting to the ground,
but was safe.
How strong must be that love which could urge a tender
woraan, unused to the horrible din of battle, through a fire
which might appall the bravest ! Tet her love for her child
overcame every emotion of fear. It seemed as if an
All-wise Hand turned aside the missiles of death which
were hurtling by on every side, and permitted her to escape
unhurt. The poetess was indeed right when she wrote, —
" Over my heart, in the days that are flown.
No love like mother's love ever hath shone." *

IX. THE VALUE OF SECONDS.
General Mitchell was well known as an erainent astrono
mer, in addition to his other merits. An officer with whom
he had business to transact reported himself at a later hour
than had been naraed for the interview.
" Sir, you are lat'e,'' exclairaed the general.
" Only a few seconds," responded the officer.
" Sir, I have been in the habit of coraputing the value
of a hundreth part of a second," retorted the general.
The subordinate felt the rebuke and was silent. The
difference of a few seconds affects the raoveraents of earth
and sun and stars, and affects often as really the fate of
armies and the destiny of nations and individuals, and
that, too, in our interests future and eternal as well as
present. 1 First published in the Zion^s Advocate, Portland, Maine.

204 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR,

X. OLD HUNDRED AT NIGHT,
During the Peninsular carapaign several of us (says a
correspondent of one ofthe pubhc journals) were sitting in
our tent, a few hours after sunset, on Sabbath evening,
when one of the nuraber, laying his hand on ray knee, sud
denly exclaimed, "Hark, what is that?"
In an instant the talking ceased, and every ear was bent
forward to catch the sound which had fixed the attention
of our comrade, A silence ensued for a moraent, and then
there w.as wafted across the air the rausic of that glorious
anthem, " Old Hundred," in which it seemed as if a thou
sand voices participated.
All of us iramediately sought the open air, and there
stood until the last note died away upon our ear. Never
before had we heard anything so magnificently grand as this
sarae " Old Hundred " sung by the soldiers of the Union
army on the plains of Torktown, The air was made vocal
with the music, and the woods around reverberated with
the mighty strain. Beneath the canopy of heaven the sol
diers gazed upward into the star-lit sky, and sang, aU with
one voice, — " Praise God from whom aU blessings flow;
Praise Him all creatures here below;
Praise Hira above, ye heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."
It was solemn, soul-stirring, to hear these words thni
chanted that have so often stirred the best, hoUest emo
tions of man's heart. It was a scene not unfitted to inspire
the genius of a Christian poet or artist.

ANBCDOTE OP GENERAL SEDGWICK, 205

XI, A PRECIOUS TESTIMONY,
My son (says Dr, Thorapson)^ had learned to trust in
Jesus as a friend. I see him now as he stood with me
alone in his chamber, strapping his knapsack for his journey
to Wheeling — the parting interview. The day had been
given to his outfit.
" Well, John," I said, " I believe I have procured every
thing that you will need. But there is one thing that you
alone can care for, Tou are going upon a very serious
business, with temptations and dangers, perhaps sickness
and death, before you, Tou raust keep near to Christ, ray
son, in prayer ; never forget that,"
Pausing for a raoment in his preparations, he turned his
large, loving eyes full upon me, looking his whole soul into
mine, and answered, —
" Father, I think I'm all right there,"
His religious habit was so reticent, so thoughtful, so sin
cere, that those few words expressed to me his whole inner
Ufe. The well-thumbed Testament and knapsack manual for
devotion, among his effects, bear witness to his fidelity ;
and the testiraony borne by all to the pureness of his
speech and manner, and to the Christian elevation of his
whole Ufe, prove how thoroughly he was right within.

xn, ANECDOTE OF GENERAL SEDGWICK:)
I have seen a second lieutenant, (says one. of our sol
diers) in all the pomp and circurastance of a major-
general, come dashing down the road, slashing at weary
1 See the article on page 169,
18

206 MEMORIALS OP THB WAR.
stragglers with his sword, or swearing at those who were
not quick enough iu dragging themselves from under his
horse's feet. One day, a soldier, one of our best, had fallen,
exhausted by over-work and illness, and lay helpless in the
road, when an officer came dashing along in evident haste
to join his staff iu advance. It was pitLable to see the effort
the poor boy raade to dwag his unwUling lirabs out of the
way. He struggled up only to sink back with a look that
asked only the privilege of lying there undisturbed, to die.
In an instant he found his head pillowed on an arra as gen
tle as his far-away raother's raight have been, and a face
bent over him, expressive of the deepest pity, in every
lineament. It is characteristic of our bravest boys, that
they say but little. The uncoraplaining words of the soldier
in this instance were few, but understood.
The officer raised him in his arms and placed hira in his
own saddle, supporting the lirap and swaying figure by one
firra arm, while with the other he curbed the steps of his
irajDatient horse to a gentler pace. For two railes, without
a gesture of impatience, he travelled in this tedious way,
until he reached an ambulance train, and placed the sick
soldier in one of the wagons. It was our noble Sedgwick,
our brave general of the Sixth Corps, pressed with great
anxieties and knowing the preciousness of every moment.
We all know that great things are to be done, and well
done, when we see that earnest figure in its rough blouse
hurrying past, and never have our boys been disappointed
in him. He works incessantly, is unostentatious; and
when he appears araong us, all eyes follow hira with out
spoken blessings. He saved his corps from utter anni
hilation at ChanceUorsvUle by his bravery and good
judgment.* 1 Inserted in the Christian Watchman, Boston.

THB soldier's last WATCH. 207

Xin. A BRAVE confession,
A visitor to a Philadelphia hospital, one of the woraen-
workers in behalf of the invalid soldiers, says, —
In going ray rounds, I stopped once to speak to a young
man of a rather agreeable and pleasant expression of face,
who seemed anxious to talk, and exhibited much inteUi
gence, though without culture. At the battle of Newport
News, he had been shot through the right leg, and had suf
fered terribly, — so much that he now looked the very
shadow of a man, he was so dreadfully eraaciated. His
account of the battle was enthusiastic, and concluded with
a long detail of the tortures he had to endure frora hunger,
thirst, and indeed alraost every iraaginable ill that could
befall a soldier in the field, surrounded by enemies,
"I suppose you don't feel much like going back, do
you? " I asked, when he had finished,
" Tes," he replied heartily, " If I knew I should have
to suffer the sarae over again, I should want to go back. I
want to get well chiefiy to return to duty. There are too
few honest patriots to spare even a single one, and if I
have any pride, it is because I know I ara one, — whole-
souled and true. I haven't raany virtues, but ray fault will
never be treachery to ray native land. I'll die for her, if I
can't live to defend her ! "
XIV. THE soldier's LAST WATCH.
A lonely grave, a little apart from others, stands on the
ground of one of the battles fought iu the retreat from
Richmond, in the summer of 1862, which bears on its
wooden head-piece siraply the name
TROWBRIDGE.

208 memorials of the war.
The turf covers the reraains of a youthful soldier who was
not only brave and patient, but exeraplary as a Christian.
Those battles renewed from day to day and attended by -
so raany hardships, destroyed raany lives, in addition to
those lost in conflict with the enemy. Hundreds and hun
dreds of our gallant raen, worn out by raarches, fight
ing, hunger, and loss of sleep, becarae discouraged, and
either recklessly threw theraselves into the jaws of death,
or fell into the hands of the enemy, because they were un
able to keep up with their more robust though not braver
corapanions. The circurastances of the death of one of these silent
raartyrs to their country were taken down frora the lips of
a soldier who was with hira in his last hours. It is all that
may be known, save to a few bleeding hearts, of one who,
alas! like so raany others, sleeps in that saddest of all places,
a battle-field. The worn-out soldier, the day before his
death, said to his lieutenant, "I ara so weak and helpless, I
do not know what I can do further."
He was told to lie down and get what rest he could on
the battle-field. About ten at night, (said his tent-raate),
as we were talking together, an officer of the corapany
carae up and told us we should retreat at two o'clock in
the raorning. He ordered us to stand guard tiU then, two
hours each in turn.
We took straws and drew lots, to decide who should stand
first. The lot feU on Trowbridge, I threw myself on the
ground under a tree, with my blanket drawn over rae, and
was soon in a deep sleep. At twelve I was aroused, but
said, " Tou raust be raistaken ; it cannot be five minutes
since I lay down,"
We had been ordered not to speak aloud, or to have a
light ; and he replied in a whisper, " Feel of the hands of
my watch, — it is twelve,"

THB SOLDIER S LAST WATCH. 209
I took his place, and he was soon asleep or seeraed to be
asleep. At half-p.ast one o'clock, the order came to break
up and raove. I went to awake Trowbridge, but had no
answer except that he groaned heavily once and then again.
I tried to soothe hira and awake him gently, but he
turned aside his head, groaned once more and was gone, I
struck a match in ray possession and looked upon his fea
tures ; they were set and ghastly in death, I placed his
hand on my cheek, and asked hira, if he was still conscious,
to press it. There was no response; life was evidently
extinct. I made an attempt to find the surgeon or the chaplain,
but they had both gone forward with the army. So, I
searched his pockets, and taking from them six dollars for
his raother, and a letter directed to himself, I replaced the
envelope, that his name at least raight be known to those
who should find the body.
Several days after this, I was one of a number of men
detaUed to go back to that spot and bury the dead. On
searching near the place where Trowbridge died, I found a
gi-ave with a wooden tablet bearing his name. Not far
distant was a house at which I called and asked the inmates
if they knew anything of that grave. The woman of the
famUy then brought forward an envelope, the very one
I had replaced, an^ said they had buried a soldier there,
frora whose pocket it was taken. It was a relief to know
what had become of the body. Of course I wrote to his
mother, sending the money, and giving an account of her
son's last moraents and his burial.

18*

210 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.

XV. POWER OP FORGIVENESS,
Governraental justice raust follow law; it may not
sacrifice the public interest for any private one. Even in
cases where the judge may deal with the individual as
such, we need wisdom to know whether lenity or severity
will best answer the purpose. The apostle speaks of a
difference: "Of some have compassion; and others save
with fear, pulling thera out of the fire." *
In one of the garrisons, a soldier, who had been guilty of
some raisderaeanor, was about to be brought before the
coramander of his regiment to receive his sentence and
be punished. The officer who entered the soldier's narae,
on seeing it said, " Here is B. F  again. What cau we
do with him? He has gone through alraost every ordeal
already." The sergeant, with an apology for his freedora, spoke up
and said, "There is one thing that has never been done
with hira yet, sir."
"What is that, sergeant?"
"Well, sir, he has never yet been forgiven."
" Forgiven ! " said the colonel. " There is his case entered.
It is too late."
" Tes, but the man is not before you, aud you can cancel
it." The colonel reflected a few moraents, and then ordered
the delinquent to be brought in, and asked him what he
had to say about the charges alleged against him.
"Nothing, sir," was the reply, "only that I am sorry
for what I have done."
" WeU," said the officer after a few prefatory words, " we
have decided to forgive you." 1 Jude 22, 23.

SEALS OF HIS MINISTRY. 211
The soldier was struck with astonishment. The tears
started to his eyes,: — he wept. The colonel, with the
adjutant and others present, were deeply affected when they
saw the man so hurabled. The grateful soldier thanked
the colonel for his kindness aud withdrew.
The author of these lines had a personal knowledge of
the conduct of the pardoned culprit for two years and a
half after this occurrence. During that tirae, no charge
was brought against hira, nor any fault ever found with him.
He was a reclaimed and faithful man.
It was a triumph of mercy. The offender was won by
kindness. XVI. SEALS OF HIS MINISTRY.
A touching scene occurred at Camp Nelson, in Kentucky.
A clergyraan, who labored at that carap, as a delegate of
the Christian Coraraission, relates the incident.
There was one man araong those with whom I conversed
there that I shaU never forget. He was a soldier from Ken
tucky. He was unable to read and had a painful sense of
his ignorance. One of his first questions was, " Don't you
think a raan can go to heaven if he has no learning?"
" Certainly, if he wUl only trust in his Saviour," I
replied. " That I have tried to do," said he ; " and the last thing
I did before leaving horae was to pray with ray sister,"
As I sought to enlighten hira, and encourage hira to
truigt more and more in the Lord Jesus, he looked me
intently in the eye and said, "Old gentleman — I confess,
it is raany years I have tried to serve the Master — what
you say has done me more good than anything the doc
tors have done or can do for me."
The next Sabbath, I saw a soldier's funeral passing my

212 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR,
tent, with a fife and drum playing a funeral march, 1
joined the soleran procession, and, on reaching the grave,
proposed to the officer in charge to make sorae reraarks.
He consented, and when the raen were drawn up in order
and the coffin was lowered into the grave, I began to speak.
By the narae on the little headboard, I discovered that I
was standing at the grave of the man with whom I had
recently conversed.
In my remarks, I alluded to that circumstance, not with
out tenderness on my part, and with evident effect on
others. Prayer was then offered for the bereaved fiiends,
for the sick in the hospital, and those present, and I closed.
The word was given, and the soldiers fired the parting
salute over the grave, then " Right about face, — forward,
march ! " and they were gone, i
I can never forget this scene, I hope to see that youth
ful soldier again in another and better world. The remark
of his that ray conversation did hira raore good than any
thing the doctors could do has strengthened me for the
rest of life. Those words of the honest, unlettered boy
are the best credentials that I or any minister could have
from human testimony.

XVn. A STEP ONWARD.
Testerday (says a friend, who writes from Providence,
R, I.) a battalion of colored soldiers, six hundred in num
ber, came up to the city from the faraed Dutch Island.
They are on their way to New Orleans. The colored
woraen of the city have procured a grand banner for thera.
To-day, December tenth, it was presented to these sons of
Uberty. The flag is a heavy sUk, fringed; the whole very
rich and elegant.

GENEROSITY OF A SLAVE. 213
The presentation was raade by Mr. Waugh, a freedman,
who said he had never learned grammar, but who surprised
those who listened to him, by his elegant, well-put and
patriotic speech. The response was raade by another
freedraan called to the duty ten minutes only before he
was to perform it, and both of thera showed that men of
their race can frame a speech fitting and forcible, better
than some who assume that duty whose opportunities have
been vastly greater.
Our excellent Governor Sraith is in the forefront of these
patriotic plans for the redeeraed children of oppression.
His labor has for its first result above eighteen hundred
colored troops, "arraed and equipped." If any one can
show a finer body of troops in vigor, in spirit, and in
manners, let thera go forward and serve their country.
But the colored women sending a battle-fiag borne by
sueh a regiment to a city and State where slavery has
reigned with such uncurbed license ! • Is not this a step
onward ?
We are not at the end yet ; but has not our flag now
risen high enough to show which way its folds point ?

xvm. GENEROSITY OP A SLAVE.
A few weeks since, one of the most able and useful
chaplains of the army spent a few days in Washington,
and while there, was invited to preach in one of the colored
churches of the city.
• He had a large and interesting congregation. Among
them were those who had been slaves as well as others.
The speaker reminded them ofthe sudden change that has
taken place in their condition and prospects. He urged
them to show themselves worthy of the future which is

214 MEMORIALS OF THB WAR.
opening before them. They had been scorned and op
pressed. Now they had their own destiny, in sorae sense
that of the country, in their hands. If they were raeek
and patient under injuries, they would overcome the m.alice
of their enemies. Some were clamoring against them as
unworthy of freedora. If they were teraperate, industri
ous, and honest, they would sUence such accusers. The
preacher knew of instances in which colored raen and
woraen had, by their courage and generosity, won the
esteera and gratitude of a raultitude of officers and soldiers
of our army. He illustrated the reraark by an exaraple.
After one of the battles of this war (said he) in north
eastern Virginia, raany wounded Union and Confederate
soldiers were brought into the town of Winchester, and
placed in the churches, sehool-rooms, and court-house, side
by side.
The ladies of that place brought into the hospitals many
things to nourish and tempt the languid appetite of the
sufferers, but they gave everything to the Confederate sol
diers ; our men they passed by as unworthy of syrapathy or
notice. One day, a lady who had been a constant visitor,
brought in a supply of fragrant tea. She went fi-ora one
couch to another of her friends, but had no eye or heart
of pity for others. One of our wounded raen, who was
very ill, thought that a cup of 'this tea raight help him.
He begged me to ask the lady for a taste of it. I went to
her, and in a raanner that I thought not offensive told her
the soldier's request.
" No," said she, and her face fiushed with anger ; " not a
drop of it ; this tea is all for our suffering martyrs,"
" Madam," I said, " I looked for no other answer. I beg
pardon for having seemed to suppose for a moment that
I should receive a different one,"
My anger was aroused, I confess. At that moment, an

GENEROSITY OP A SLAVE. 215
aged colored woman approached the surgeon and myself
She was lame, and could hardly walk under the weight of
two large baskets which she bore on her arms, while a
black boy followed her, carrying another basket.
Having come up to us, she set down her burden and
said, —
" Master, I am a slave ; my husband is a slave, and ray
children are slaves. Will you accept these^ things frora a
poor slave woraan for the wounded men here ? I do not
want money. No, raaster, I could never look you in the
face, if I took your raoney."
She then opened one of the baskets, and took up a roll
of stockings, and said, —
"Master, raonths ago, I knew this war was coming; and
when all were asleep in ray cabin, I knit these that sorae
poor sufferer raight be warmed, — and will you allow a poor
slave to give thera to these raen ? "
Then taking up sorae papers of tea she said, " This tea I
earned by ray own work. I would not drink it myself, for
I knew the day was not far off when some weak and faint
ing men would need it raore than I do. Will you perrait
me to give it to you ? And here," said she, lifting up some
cans of fruit, " are the peaches, pears, and plums of ray
own garden ; I saved them all for you. I could not eat
them when my heart tdTd me that suffering ancl dying
soldiers would need thera. Will you perrait rae, kind
master, to give them to you for the poor men lying here ?
And so other things she had brought — linen napkins,
handkerchiefs, lint — she held up, and said, —
"Master, I have not stolen them. My own hands have
earned thera over the wash-tub and by house-cleaning.
Perrait rae to give them to you. I wished to do soraething
for those who are far from home, among strangers and suf
fering want,"

216 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE.
As she talked, she grew more and raore earnest. Tears
rolled over her face, and fell on her hands as she lifted to
me the treasures of her basket. I can never forget the
earnestness and humUity of her manner, as she said, again
and again, " Permit me, master, perrait rae."
"Oh, yes. Aunty," I said; "we will not only receive
them, but pay you for all you have brought."
" Oh, master," said she, " be not so unkind as to offer me
money. I want the pleasure of giving these little things.
Oh, I am sorry I have so little! If I had a thousand
tiraes as rauch, and better things, too, I should give them
all." Our sick and wounded men looked with wonder and ad
miration on the woman, and soon a hundred of them cried
out, "Aunty, God bless you! Tou are the only white
woman we have seen in Winchester."
Now (continued the chaplain), do you think those sol
diers ever forgot that woman, and thought her skin w.as
darker than that of their sisters and mother. Will thcy
not ever reraeraber her as a noble, true friend in need ?
And will not every one of thera be kinder to every
daughter of Africa who coraes in his way, because one of
thera pitied and helped hira when he was a stranger and
half dead. I do not know what became of that generous
woman. She may be still a slave ; but certain I am that
in long years to corae, when the soldiers of the army meet
in peaceful homes, we will talk of her, and ask God to
bless her.
Go and do as she did. Be gentle ; do good unto all men,
even your enemies. Be not vain and proud, spending nil
you make in dress and pleasure ; but deny yourselves to do
good, and soon those who despise you wUl become your
friends. As the chaplain wiis relating these facts, he saw in the

PRINCIPLE STRONGER TH.\N NATURE, 217
congregation a woman whose fice glowed and w.as wet
with tears. And when he had ended the service, this per
son came up and said to hira, "Master, I ara the woraan
you spoke of this morning, I bless the good Lord I am
free, and my husband and two children are all free and
here in Washington, and we are now happier than ever in
our lives,'"
As they heard this, many gathered around her, to thank
ber again for her charity to the wounded soldiers. And
the chaplain rejoiced to meet in freedom one who had
shown herself to be so generous a woman and so true a
Christian, XIX. PRINCIPLE STRONGER THAN NATURE,
In one of the earlier stages of the war, a young officer
fell in battle, as he was bravely leading on his troops
against the insurgents. His body was brought horae
for burial. The venerable mother who was nearly, if not
quite, four-score years old, stood gazing calmly on the
remains of her son, who should have been her own stay
and staff in the decline of life.
At last a moveraent was raade by a friend to cover the
face, and hide it frora huraan sight forever. The noble
wonian put him gently aside, and, carefully performing the
act herself, said, " My son, I have laid you to rest many a
time before. Now I do it for the last time, and with
the flag of your country."
^ In the dialogtfe of the narrative we have, of course, the sense of the speakers,
not the exact words. As to the facts of the narrative, tlie Rev. Dr. Marks, of
Washington, reports them on the strength of his own personal knowledge.
19

218 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR.

XX. SIGHTS AFTER BATTLE.
On the twenty-seventh of the last raonth^ a battle was
fought beyond the Rapidan, which resulted in a victory
for the national arras, but with a heavy loss on both sides.
A letter, written at Alexandria, Virginia, Deceraber sixth,^
describes sorae of the after-scenes of the conflict, which it
is painful to read, and raust have been stUl more painful to
witness. A week elapsed after the fight, and trains of cars, laden
with the wounded and dying, began to make their appear
ance at Alexandria, frora the "front."
The work of araputation, dressing of wounds, and prep
arations for removal, comraenced on the spot the next
raorning after the battle. It was sorae distance to the
nearest railroad, and the wounded, raairaed, in sorae cases
dying men, were j)ut into ambulances, and sent forward to
that point. The roads were so wretched that five or six
miles a day was all the progress that could be raade. It
must be left to the iraagination to conceive what they suf
fered under such circurastances, during so many wearisome
days and nights.
On reaching Alexandria (says the eye-witness), every
thing was done for their relief that could be done by the
ministrations and sympathy of man. Agents of the Sani
tary Coraraission, in anticipation of their arrival, met them
at the station with hot coffee, and with suitable food.
Several delegates of the Christian Coraraission, who were
providentially there, lent their aid in transferring the suf
fering raen to the several hospitals in that city. Between
tbh-ty and forty freight cars were filled -with those living
> November, 1802.
2 In the Boston Becm-der, December 18, 1863.

SIGHTS AFTER BATTLE. 219
relfcs of the slaughter. Seven hundred raen, certainly
not fewer, were brought hither in this raanner. Ambulan
ces and stretchers were in constant raotion between the
cars and the hospitals; but it was past raidnight before the
sad work was completed.
The scenes of that night it is irapossible for any descrip
tion adequately to portray. Sorae of the raen had lost an
arm, sorae a leg, sorae both legs. The wounds were of
every conceivable sort, and in every part ofthe body, frora
the crown of the head to the sole of the foot. They had
been shot in the head, in the face, in the neck, in the shoul
ders, the arms, the legs, and the feet. They had been shot
through the chest, through the lungs, through the hips and
through the thighs.
Tet let no one suppose it was all gloom, laraentation, and
complaint here. It was otherwise, far otherwise. Sufferers
they were, but, almost without exception, patient, cheerful
sufferers. They gave the highest proof of courage that
men can give. "Alraost auy one," said a great commander,
"can be brave in battle under a good leader; but he is
the real hero who can be brave when the battle is over."
To look at sorae of these raen raight alraost lead one to
think that they were gathered there for some celebration
or a festive scene.
They were grateful for our assistance (says the writer
of the letter), but it was wonderful to see how disposed
and able they were' to help theraselves. Sorae, indeed,
could do nothing in their own behalf But raany of thera,
frightfully raairaed and raangled as they were, with a little
help from us, would descend from the cars and take their
places in the ambulances, nearly as quick as if they had
been well.
With such Ughts and shadows does the raeraory of that
Friday night, Deceraber fourth, 1863, abide with me, and

220 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
wUl abide forever. What pen but that of the recording
angel can write its history? The stars in their courses
looked down mUdly and lovingly upon us, frora the sweet
canopy above, as if in syrapathy with our hearts and
work. With a silence alraost as profound as theirs, un
known to those whom we ministered to, and they unknown
to us, with musings in their hearts and ours known only to
Him who "knoweth what is in man," we went forward
with our sad work, thankful, if such work must be done,
for the privilege of d^ing it, in the hope that we are follow
ing, at some hurable distance, "Hira who went about doing
good." But raore reraarkable than even that night were the two
following days, Saturday and Sabbath which we spent in
intercourse with these men. We visited thera frora ward to
ward in the hospitals, conversed and pr.ayed with them,
extended to thera, as far as we could, the kind and tender
sympathy of loved ones far away, wrote letters for them,
and supplied thera with copies of the Word of God in the
place of those they had lost in the service. Oh, what a
field for pastoral work ! No rainister of Christ at home, in
ordinary times, has one to be compared with it for a
raoraent. Men at horae, irapenitent men, cannot be ap
proached on the subject of their salvation as these men
can. To say that they are " accessible " is not enough.
Their hearts are all open. They speak freely and ingenu
ously even when not specially interested. Many of them
are tender in their feelings, — the starting tear, the choked
utterance reveal it. Sorae are anxious and seeking. They
love to be conversed with and counselled. Some, with
bitter regrets, confess their backsliding, and lament that
they have not maintained that character in the army which
they had hoped to maim ain.
On he contrary, there u-e not a few shining examples

DYING FOE A BENBFACTOE. 221
of what the grace of God can do for men in a situation
usually so adverse to a religious life. Having unfurled
their banner at the outset, ha^'ing at the very first defined
their position before their corarades, as friends of Jesus and
soldiers of the cross, they have been able to hold on their
way and to grow stronger and stronger.
Among the raairaed and wounded were three who fell
into our hands frora the rebel_array. Two of thera be
longed to a Georgia regiraent, the third to a North Carolina
regiraent. No case (says the narrator) interested rae so
much, or appealed for syrapathy so rauch as that of these
prisoners, I had repeated interviews with thera, and heard
thera talk about horae, and the cause iu which we are
fighting. They are choice young raen, and I think they
are Union raen. One of thera requested me to write my
name in the Testament I gave him.
If the churches at horae could hear what some of these
men in the hospitals say of the services of the Christian
Coraraission in the field, if they could know how raany
lives it has saved, how many hearts it has strengthened
and coraforted, it would be the most effective appeal ever
made to them for their prayers and their charities.

XXL DYING FOE A BENBFACTOE.
In the battle which resulted in the capture of Fort
Donelson, an orderly sergeant saw a rebel pointing a rifie
at the captain of his corapany. The aim was perfect ; the
distance at which he stood left no room for escape. At
that instant the soldier rushed forward, threw himself
before the officer, received the bullet in his own breast,
and fell dead in the arras of the man he had saved.
It was ascertained, as the explanation of this singular act,
19*

222 MEMOEIALS OP THE WAR.
that the brave fellow had been reared and- generouslf
treated by the captain's father. He had declared when ho
enlisted in the army, that he would be happy to die to saA'e
the life of his benefactor's son. The affection shown to
each other by Damon and Pythias did not exceed that of
this nameless soldier.
It was an instance of that last degree of self-sacrifice of
which the Scripture represents our imperfect nature as
capable. " Scarcely for a righteous man " — one who is sira
ply just — " will one die; yet, peradventure, for a good man "
— one truly benevolent — "some would even dare to die."^

XXn. THE LAST "VICTORY.
General N. B. Sanders, so honorably known as a brave
and efficient commander, was wounded in one of the East
Tennessee battles, near the end of 1863. He was a Ken
tuckian, educated at West Point, which he left in 1856,
He had been shot in a close hand-to-hand fight with the
enemy. He was not aware at first how serious the injury
was. On being examined by the physician, the general
asked, —
"Tell me, doctor, if ray wound is mortal?"
The doctor replied, " Sanders, it is a fearful wound and
mortal, I am very sorry to say it, my dear fellow, but the
odds are against you,"
The general calraly replied, " Well, I ara not afi-aid to
die, I have raade up ray mind upon that subject, I have
done ray duty, and have served ray country as well as I
could." He lingered until the next day, and during that time
was perfectly conscious. In the course of the morning, he
1 Eomans v. 7,

^HE LAST VICTOEY, 223
explained certain symptoms to the doctor, and asked him
what they meant.
The doctor replied, " General, you are dying."
"If that be so," he said, "I would like to see a clergy
man.'' The Rev. Mr. Hayden, chaplain ofthe post, was sent for,
who came; and in the presence of General Burnside, with
some of his staff, Captain Harris, a classmate, and several
others, the dying officer was baptized.
He remarked after this that it had always been the desire
of his friends that he should be baptized. He meant that
they had long ago urged hira to take this step, and thought
him a fit subject for the ordinance. He was too distrustful
to seera to rely on his own judgment in such a raatter.
The minister then commended him to God, and while the
fervent prayer was offered. General Burnside and the
others present were kneeling around the bed of the dying
believer. He shook hands with his chief, who stood tear
fully over hira, as if loath to witness the flight of the brave
spirit. It was a scene never to be forgotten.
After this, he was preparing to partake of the sacraraent,
when his strength suddenly failed, and he was gone. It
was hardly possible to raark the change. As Dr. Jackson,
the physician, said, " He went to sleep like an infant." In
a raoraent, as we trust, he passed beyond the need of
symbols into the heavenly rest.
Such was the end of one of the bravest and most unpre
tending men whora God has raised up to serve the country
in this tirae of need.

224 MEMORIALS OF THE WAE.

XXIII. DO YOU EBMEMBEE ECKINGTON?
Passing through the hospital one day, a young man was
pointed out to me who the nurse said was near his end.
I approached, and kneeling by the side of his cot, took his
hand in mine. As he opened his eyes and looked up into
mine, a sraile of recognition passed over his features.
"I know you, I know you," said he. "Do you remera
ber Eckington Hospital ? Not long since, you and a good
lady were there. Under a grove of trees in front of the
building, you preached to us about the Great Physician.
Then the lady sang to us sorae sweet songs of Zion, and
reading raatter furnished by the Christian Coraraission was
distributed among the men. Tes, chaplain, I was then a
convalescent soldier, and a wicked young raan. When 1
was a boy, ray raother used to kneel withjne at the bedside
and teach rae the Uttle prayer, —
' Now I lay me down to sleep,'
and tUl I left horae I was instructed how to Uve, but for
all that, I never becarae a Christian.
"Well, sir, as I listened to the preaching, and the singing
of those sweet songs, I began to feel that at last I ought
to give ray heart to God. I saw how good he had been to
me all my life, aud I felt that I had done nothiug but sin
against hira while my heart was at enraity with him. I
resolved to go to Jesus, aud through hira seek salvation.
That night, I began to pray; and though for a time it
seemed very dark, yet it was not long befoi-e I felt that
Jesus was my Saviour. No sooner did I trust in Him, and
commit ray soul to God with all its interests, than I felt,
yea, I knew, I was accepted and saved. Oh, the love that
sprang up in ray heart to Jesus in that raoraent! How I

THE BOOK WILL TELL. 225
love him now!" he said, as fioods of tears flowed from his
eyes, " and how I long, to be with him ! I did not expect
to die so soon. A few days only have passed since I had
this hope ; but, — thank God, I have iraproved the tirae."
I spoke of his raother.
"Mother I ara sure will be happy," said he, "I had just
as fief die as not, for I shall see her in heaven. Father
has already gone there."
He was so rauch affected that I feared his tears and
emotions would hasten his death, and said to him, —
" Be as calra as you can, ray brother."
He only whispered back, '-- Jesus wept."
I left him with the light of heaven beaming through his
pale features. I was told he dwelt upon the name of Jesus
in faint whispers, with indescribable tenderness till his lips
ceased to move.

XXIV. THE BOOK WILL TELL.
The brother of a sick soldier travelled two thousand
miles to find him, watch over him, and, if it raight be,
restore him to his friends. But he arri\%d too late. Before
the long joumey was accomphshed, the hand of death was
laid upon the invalid, and had borne him beyond the
reach of huraan care and syrapathy. The brother, wishing
to secure the few effects of the departed one as keepsakes,
went to the carap where his regiment was stationed, A
fellow-soldier (says one of the party) led us to a tent that
was only large enough to contain two bunks and a sraall
table. Beneath one of the bunks were two or three soiled
and dusty knapsacks. The weeping brother proceeded to
open one of these, and to exaraine its contents. Every
fittle article of the scanty wardrobe was scrutinized as well

226 MEMOEIALS OP THE WAE,
as blinding tear-drops would permit. The brother was
not certain, but thought he could recognize sorae of the
articles as those of the loved one, of whora the most
trifling token would be so dear to surviving friends.
At the bottom of the knapsack lay a Bible, The thought
which seized me at this discovery (says the relator) was
that also of our guide, who cried out instantly, "The
book wiU tell."
The trerabling hands of the bereaved brother grasped
the Bible, and, unclasping it, we read, " Presented to 
by his brother, ¦  , N. T.,  , 1862."
The doubt was solved. Here, indeed, were the effects
that we had taken such pains to recover, and they were
known by the testimony of the Bible, in which the hand
of affection had written the owner's narae. That excla-
raation, " The book will tell," is full of raeaning. The Bible
has been given as a keepsake to thousands and thousands
of our soldiers, as they have gone forth to the dangers of
the war, and has not been given in vain. Many of them,
it is impossible to doubt, will be indebted to that gift for
having their names enrolled in the Larab's book of life.
During this war, how often has the sacred volume, put
into the knapsack*of the departing soldier by raother or
sister, been sent back to the lonely horae as the only reUc
of the son and brother who has fallen in battle, or pined
away in the carap or hospital. But one anxiety is left now,
and respecting that they say to themselves, " The book
will tell." With blinded eyes, with hope and fear, they
open the returned Bible to see what evidence of its perusal
they can find — what passages were marked, at what verse
the last leaf was turned down.
The saying has a lesson for us all. The revelations of
this book are to decide each one's destiny. The tests of
character are prescribed there, to which all must be

A SOLDIEE S POCKET DIARY. 227
brought, in the presence of the Judge at last ; and from
that book in effect will issue the sentence, — " Come " or
"Depart" — which awaits every probationer.

xxv. A SOLDIEE S POCKET DIAEY.
It is very suggestive and very touching to look over the
pocket diary, in which a brave soldier, in short, abrupt,
terse sentences, with long omissions, gives hints of what
is passing around and within him. Such glimpses of
mUitary life give us our best views of its hardships, and
of the "spirit of the men who endure thera so cheerfully.
Oliver S. Currier^ was a native of Maine, who enlisted, in
the suraraer of 1862, in the Thirty-Fifth Massachusetts,
Company K, of Roxbury. He was a disciple of Christ,
and thoroughly conscientious in all that he did. He was
unable at first to gratify his patriotic desires, as claims
rested on him which he felt he was not at liberty to dis
regard. That obstacle at length was removed.
One night in July, a friend entered the chamber where
he was sleeping, and awoke him to say that the way was
now open for him to enlist as a soldier. There was no
more sleep for him that night ; he left his bed, went out at
midnight, and signed the roll. He had been troubled
about a mortgage, and was anxious to provide that his
parents should not be turned out of their home in case he
should faU in battle, A friend having assuraed that re
sponsibility for hira, he started for Maine the next morn
ing, and placed a deed of the little cottage and garden in
the hands of his father ; and on the fourth day returned,
entered the ranks, and went with his company to camp,
1 He was a grandson ofthe late Eev. Jotham Sewall, of Maine, " whose praise
is ia all the churches " as an eloquent and apostolic servant of Jesus Christ.

228 MEMOEIALS OP THE WAE,
Under date of Septeraber fourteenth, he writes, at South
Mountain, "I have been in my first battle. One raan out
of the corapany killed," This was three weeks after they
left horae.
Three days later, at Antietara : " We went in at about
four o'clock. Our corapany lost thirteen killed and thirty-
one wounded. Have seen hard work to-day. After we
withdrew, I only found four of our coraj)any. Our regi
raent was second across the bridge, I feel sad, sad, sad."
Well raight he feel sad. The beloved coraraander^ of
his company was borne off the field with three severe
wounds, and marks of twenty others, and every officer
was wounded. The dear friend who called hira to arms at
midnight was araong the dead, with so raany others who
had been accustomed to sing the songs of Zion with him
in that strange land.^
But this sadness had no despondency in it. " Our roll-
call has only thirty-nine names," he writes, a few d.ays after.
"We are sraall in number, but strong iu determination to
do all we can to help put down this great rebellion."
We pass over references to long and exh.austing marches,
and corae to the record of scenes just before the fatal bat
tle at Fredericksburg.
"Nov. 22. Still lying opposite Fredericksburg; weather
cold. We occupy a poor camp-ground. I ara not very
well; a poor appetite. I wish I had a good potato to eat."
"Sunday, 23d. Very cold. Listened to reading of
the proclamation [for Thanksgiving] of the Governor of
Massachusetts, I do not feel very well; have not any
overcoat." 1 Captain King of Eoxbury, now a lieutenant cofonel and military commaa-
dant of Lexington, Ky.
2 It may not be obtrusive for the writer to say that a dear relative, a nephew
and namesake, was one of these brave and Christi.in young men who fell in this
battle at Antietam.

A soldier's pocket DIAEY, 229
"Monday, 24th. I wish I felt better. Have no appe
tite. I would like to be at home a few days; spend
Thanksgiving there!"
"Wednesday, a letter from home. How it cheers the
sick soldier to hear from the dear ones at home ! They
long for my return. God grant my return."
"Thursday, 27th. My Thanksgiving consisted of a little
parched rye and a sraall boiled potato, I never tasted
anything so good as that potato."
' How significant these brief sentences !
"Monday, Dec. 1. Letters frora home. How precious
they are ! "
" Saturday, 6th. A cold snow-storm; oh, how cheerless !
Wet ground to pitch our tents on, no straw to lie on, worn-
out shoes, green wood, short rations, A sorry time we are
having." "Sunday, 7th, I got through the night, but it Was
tough. I liked to have frozen. I don't think I slept an
hour ; up raost all night ; wet feet."
How will those who enjoy the peaceful prosperity to
secure which our heroic soldiers are enduring such hardships,
a few years hence, read these sentences, and how wiU they
honor the raeraory of these noble raen !
"Monday, 8th. Very cold last night, I ara poorly
clothed ; without overcoat. To-day it is warm and quite
pleasant. Health good."
"Wednesday, 10th. Very pleasant. Cartridges dealt
out to-day. There is to be fighting soon."
"Thursday, llth. Received two months' pay, $26.
Battle of Fredericksburg. We have been under arms all
the forenoon, expecting to be ordered into action every
minute. Cannonading is terrific — a continuous roar since
daybreak. I am going to send uncle J  $20 by  ."
These were the last words he wrote.
20

230 MEMOEIALS OP THE WAE.
The regiment went into action immediately. A cannon-
ball took off his leg ; araputation was performed ; but he
died the same night, and his poor body, no^more to suffer
cold or hunger, lies buried in a pleasant garden in
Fredericksburg. The corafort of knowing how he was carried off the
field, and how he was sustained, and what his last raessages
were, and all the particulars of his dying raoraents, is
denied to his friends. The corafort of knowing that one
like the Son of God was with him, and that his grace was
sufficient, and that in peaceful and joyful triumph he fell
asleep, — this blessed assurance his friends have. His
religious character was so simple and natural, so consist
ent and unpretending, that we have no doubt what the
closing scene was, and what heavenly joy he entered upon.
And raay God grant to every soldier Uke precious faith ! •
" 'Twere sweet indeed to close our eyes.
With those we cherished near.
And, wafted upward by their sighs,
Soar to some calmer sphere :
But whether on the scaffold high.
Or iu the battle's van.
The fittest place for mau to die
Is where he dies for man."

XXVI. GENTLE AS WELL AS BRAVE.
The late Major-General Buford was offered a major-
general's coraraission in the rebel array when he was in
Utah, at the beginning of the RebeUion. He crushed the
treasonable paper in his hand, and declared that he would
Uve and die under the flag of the Union.
No commander, probably, was more loved by his soldiers
1 Abbreviated from a Ti-act for Soldiers.

PICKET DUTY. 231
than he was. A striking instance of his thoughtful regard
for the feelings of others is raentioned in connection with
his death. A few hours before that event, while suffering
from delirium, he roundly scolded his negro servant, but
during a brief, lucid interval, understanding what he had
done, he called the negro to his bedside and said to hira, —
" Edward, I hear I have been scolding you. I did not
know what I was saying. Tou have been a faithful ser
vant, Edward."
The poor negro sat down and wept as though his heart
was broken.
General Buford was proraoted to the rank of raajor-
general after he had received his fatal wound. On having
his coraraission brought to hira, he exclairaed, —
" Now, I wish I could live."
His last intelligible words, uttered during an attack of
deUriura, were, —
" Put guards on aU the roads, and don't let the men run
back to the rear,"
It was an illustration of the ruling passion, strong in
death. It was remarked of him that nothing so moved
his scorn as to see men skulking of hanging on the rear.
This gaUant officer had been trained in a noble school of
patriotism, that of the lamented Admiral Foote.'^
How brief the interval ! Death separated them ; death
has united them.

XXVn. PICKET DUTY.
The nature of this perilous service is not understood
by every one. It is described briefly, but vividly, in the
following sentences. The writer is a clergyraan, who re
lates to us his own experience : —
1 See page 90, where the t-yo we mentioned together,

232 MEMORIALS OF THB WAE.
Picket duty at all times is arbitrary, but at night trebly
so. No raonarch on a throne, with absolute power, is more
independent, or exercises greater sway for the time being,
than a simple private soldier stationed on his beat with an
enemy in front. Darkness veils all distinctions. He is not
obliged to know his own officers or corarades, or the cora-
manding general, or the highest officer in the land, only
through the raeans of the countersign. With rausket
loaded and capped he walks his rounds, having to do with
ra.atters only of life and death, and at the same time
clothed with absolute power.
It is a position of fearful importance and responsibility,
one that always raade me feel soleran and terribly earnest.
Often, too, these posts are in thick woods, where the
soldier stands alone, cut off frora camp, cut off from his
fellows, subject only to the harassings of his imagination
and sense of fear. The shadows deepen into inky night.
All objects around hira, even to the little birds that were
his corapanions during the day, are gathered within the
curtains of a hushed repose ; but the soldier, with every
nerve and faculty of his mind strained to the utmost
tension of keenness and sensibility, ^eaks only in low
whispers ; his fingers tighten round the stock of his musket
as he leans forward to catch the sound of approaching
footsteps, or, in the absence of danger, looks longingly up
to the cold, gray sky, with its wealth of soft and flaming
stars. And what an hour for noble, lofty thought, in connection
with the subjects of death, eternity, and the future world!

LOCK OF HAIR POR MOTHER,

XXVin. LOCK OF HAIR POR MOTHEE,
It was just after the battle of Williarasburg,^ where hun
dreds of our brave fellows had fallen, never to bear arras
again in their country's cause, and where hundreds raore
were wounded, that a soldier carae to the tent of a dele
gate of the Christian Commission and said, " Chaplain, one
of our boys is badly wounded, and wants to see you right
away." Hurrying after the messenger, says the delegate, I was
taken to the hospital and led to a bed, upon which lay a
noble young soldier. He was pale and bloodstained from
a terrible wound above the temple. I saw at a glance that
he had but a few hours to live upon earth. Taking his
hand, I said to hira, —
" Well, my brother, what can I do for you? "
The poor dying soldier looked up in my face, and placing
his finger where his hair was stained with his blood, he
said, —
" Chaplain, cut a big lock from here for mother ! for my
mother, mind, chaplain ! "
I hesitated to do it. He said, "Don't be afraid, chaplain,
to disfigure my hair. It's for mother, and nobody wiU
come to see me in the dead-house to-morrow."
I did as he requested me.
"Now, chaplain," said the dying man, "I want you to
kneel down by me and return thanks to God."
"Por what? "I asked.
" For giving rae such a mother. Oh ! chaplain, she is a
good mother; her teachings corafort rae and console rae
now. And, chaplain, thank God that by his grac6 I am a
1 In the Peninsula, May, 1862.
20*

234 MEMOEIALS OF THE WAE.
Christian. What would I do now if I was not a Christian ?
I know that my Redeeraer liveth. I feel that his finished
work has saved me. And, chaplain, thank God for giving
me dying grace. He has made my dying bed
' Feel soft as downy pillows are.'
Thank him for the promised home in glory. I'll soon be
there, — there where there is no war, nor sorrow, nor deso
lation nor death, — where I shall see Jesus, and be forever
with the Lord."
I knelt by the dying man, and thanked God for the
blessings he had bestowed upon hira, — the blessings of a
good raother, a Christian hope, and dying grace, to bear
testiraony to God's faithfulness.
Shortly after the prayer, he said, " Good-by, chaplain ; if
you ever see that raother of mine, tell her it was aU weU
with me."

XXIX. THE YOUNG COLOE-SBRGEANT,
At once a color-bearer in the array of his country and in
the array of Jesus, — what prouder position than this for a
young Christian soldier! He was General Kilpatrick's
color-bearer, and a mere boy. His comrades all said he
was a brave fellow. The main artery of one of his legs
had been cut off by a Minie ball. The wound had bled
several tiraes whUe in the hospital, and he was fast sinking.
He whispered to an attendant who was bending over him:
" Jesus has a horae in heaven for me."
" How do you know ? "
" Because God loves me. He loves his Son Jesus, and he
loves rae too."
These were alraost his last words. A few hours before

NOT YET TOO LATE, 235
his death, his father carae, truly a broken-hearted man,
« For he was his youngest boy, — his Benjamin, — and how
could he spare hira ? "
" I didn't want hira to go ; and how, how, shall I go
home without him ? Oh ! I am afraid it will be too much
for the mother."
The boy was laid in his coffin, and the ladies and little
children of Hagerstown where he died triraraed the body
with flowers; — though he hiraself was the brightest flower
of aU, destined assuredly to bloom and flourish forever in
the Paradise above.

xxx. NOT YET TOO LATE.
Among the wounded at the battle of Stone River, in
Tennessee, was a young man. Over the raortaUy wounded
son hung the anxious raother, in the deepest sorrow that
he gave no evidence of fitness for eternal scenes. But the
words the dying youth uttered, severely as they conderaned
himself, showed clearly his own convictions of the sharae
and wrong of those who neglect God tUl life is drawing to
a close, and hope then to obtain his favor.
To a Christian appeal, he replied, — "If I live to get
weU, I will be a Christian ; but I will not throw the fag-
end of ray life in the face of the Almighty." He immedi
ately expired.
The poor fellow certainly mistook the gospel mode of
salvation, for faith in Christ can avail in other cases as it
did with the dying thief in his last moraents. The " fag-
end " of his life was distinguished by an act which opened
to him the gates of Paradise. The time may be short, but
much may be done often in a short time.
The striking language of the dying soldier contains a

236 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
stinging rebuke to all those who practically claim the best
of life for theraselves, whUe they venture to put off their
Maker with the little that reraains when they are about
to sink into the grave. ^

XXXL SOLDIER, AEE YOU HUNGEY ?
Be kind to the soldiers. What they need is good cheer
for the raind as well as the body, assurance of syrapathy,
proof that our hearts are wi£h thera as they go forth to peril
their lives for us by land and sea. Brave men appreciate
such tokens. of interest in them and their work. Even a
child may show to thera kindness, the reraerabrance of
which will strengthen their hearts and nerve their arms in
the day of battle.
A writer from Baltiraore illustrates this trait of the
soldier's character. About eighteen raonths ago, a northern
regiraent passed through this city on the way to Washing
ton. They had occasion to halt a short tirae in one of our
streets, for rest and refreshraent. While they were doing
this, a little fellow approached one of the men and said, —
" Soldier, are you hungry ? "
" Tes, — I am," he replied ; upon which the boy invited
hira to go with hira to his home near by, and there, on his
making known the case, the family set before the hunger-
bitten soldier a bountiful repast.
A few weeks ago, this regiraent, having served out their
terra of enhstraent, passed through Baltiraore again, on
their way home. The soldier referred to had distinguished
hiraself on the field, and had risen from a private to the
rank of captain. He had not forgotten the kindness of
1 From the Congregatioiwlist.

OUE GOOD-HBAETED PEESIDENT. 237
his little friend in Baltimore. He knew where he lived,
sought hira out, and presented to him a handsome photo
graphic albura filled with likenesses of all the prorainent
generals in the Union army. Inscribed upon the back of
the album in beautiful gilt letters, were the words, —
^' Soldier, are you hungry ? "
This little boy is the son of a Lutheran minister in the
city of Baltimore.

XXXn. OUR GOOD-HEARTED PRESIDENT.
" I have observed more than once," says Daniel Webster,
in his eulogy on honest Zachary Taylor, " that the preva
lent notion with the masses of mankind for conferring high
honoi-s on individuals is a confidence in their mildness,
their, paternal, protecting, prudent, and safe character.
The people naturally feel safe where they feel themselves
to he under the control and protection of sober counsel, of
impartial minds, and a general paternal superintendence."
Such titles to popular confidence and favor we recognize,
also, in the man on whora it has devolved to guide our
ship of State through the present crisis. The people trust
him because he has made them feel that he is unselfish and
honest. They believe he has sought to do his duty accord
ing to the best of his knowledge and ability, and that con
viction at the bottom of their hearts has been our sheet-
anchor; it has held us together, has buoyed up the nation's
faith, has kept us from drifting into anarchy and ruin. It
is a quality of character and a means of power not incon
sistent with genius, but which genius alone does not con
fer; it is worth infinitely more to us, in a time like this,
than any glare of military reputation, or brilliancy of
intellect, or diplomatic skUl.

238 MEMORIALS OP THE . WAE.
The way to be thought upright and faithful and earnest
for the public welfare, is to be so in truth, and it is by that
art of arts that Mr. Lincoln has so won to hiraself the
hearts of the great raass of the nation.
Incidents like the foUowing bring out the character of
an individual in a natural raanner, and leave us in no doubt
how we are to understand hira.
On Monday last (says a visitor at Washington),^ I drop
ped in upon Mr. Lincoln, and found him busy counting
greenbacks. "This, sir," said he, "is something out of my usual line;
but a President of the United States has a multiplicity
of duties not specified in the Constitution or acts of con
gress. This is one of thera. This money belongs to a
poor negro who is a porter in one of the Departments (the
Treasury), who is at present very ill with the sraall pox.
He is now in hospital, and could not draw his pay because
he could not sign his narae,
I have been at considerable trouble to overcome the
difficulty and get it for hira, and have at length succeeded in
cutting red tape, as you newspaper raen say, I ara now
dividing the raoney and putting by a portion labelled, in an
envelope, with ray own hands, according to his wish ; " and
his Excellency proceeded to endorse the package very
carefully. No one who witnessed the transaction could faU to
appreciate the goodness of heart which would prompt a
mau in his situation, borne down by a weight of cares
almost without parallel in the world's history, to turn aside
thus and befriend one of the humblest of his fellow-crea
tures in sickness and sorrow,
1 Who published the incident in the Chicago Tribune.

BEOUGHT BACK TO THE FOLD, 239

XXXin, BEOUGHT BACK TO THE FOLD.
On the evening of the battle of Rappahannock Sta
tion, ray friend. Dr. R  , of the Third Division of
our corps, carae to rae, saying a raan in their hospital
wished to see a chaplain, Accorapanying hira, I found a
young raan about twenty years old, a meraber of the Tenth
Massachusetts, with his leg crushed and mangled by a piece
of shell. The shock had been so severe that araputation
was useless, and he was sinking rapidly.
Expressing hiraself glad to see me, I inquired his relig
ious history. It was the same old story, — a bright hope
— active church-merabership — array life — array irregular
ities, and the abandonraent of his profession.
"And now," said he, "if there can be forgiveness for
such a wanderer, pray for rae,"
I confess I felt raore backwardness than was right. A
cu-cle of coarse soldiers stood there, surveying the soleran
scene with raere raorbid curiosity. Another group stood
there, raore educated and refined, — a knot of surgeons,
some of whora, I knew, had no belief in God or eternity,
and considered my interview with the dying raan as at best
but amiable officiousness. But there lay the sinking sufferer,
and I wore the uniforra of a rainister of Christ, and bending
over the table where he lay, I asked the Good Shepherd to
give assurance of pardon to the wandering sheep. I dared
not remind the boy that he was dying the noblest death
that mortal man can die, but held up his case merely as
that of a lost sinner, whose redemption must come, not
from that horrid shell-wound, or the blood that, for his
country's sake, was trickling from that mangled lirab, but
from the blood shed upon Calvary, and the wounds of 'a

240 MEMOEIALS OP THE WAR.
slain Redeeraer. Throughout the prayer, his raurmured
responses and fervent ejaculations disclosed his own earnest
ness in the petition, and the smothered hope revived again;
and, faint at first, but growing brighter and brighter, there
finaUy beamed in full radiance on his soul that faith which
supports in the stern hour.
Meanwhile, there stood beside the table a noble-looking
young fellow, a little older than the dying soldier, moistening
his lips, and affectionately smoothing the hair from his brow,
but so perfectly calm and collected, I supposed he was
merely one of the hospital attendants. A remark of some
one present started ray suspicion, and I asked, —
" Is this a friend of yours ? "
Said he, " It is ray younger brother."
So calra was his voice, and so coraposed his manner
throughout the whole, that the thing seemed irapossible,
except that often those who feel most deeply manifest it
the least.
He said to his brother, " S  , what shall I tell mother
for you ? "
" Tell her I died for my country," was the prompt and
noble reply,
"Give rae a kiss for her," said the other; and the
bronzed face bowed down to the pale Ups as tenderly as if
they had been those of an infant. More than one in the
tent turned to hide his tears, and the two brothers seemed
most moved of all.
The dying boy sank rapidly, but the clouds vanished from
his mind, and his faith grew bright and strong, I repeated,
" I know that ray Redeemer liveth ; " " The Lord is my
Shepherd, I shall not want;" "In ray Father's house are
many raansions ; " and still other passages. I xecited, also,
th* beautiful hyran : —
" Kock of ages, cleft for me,"

BROUGHT BACK TO THE FOLD. 241
and those lines, especially dear when the couch of dissolu
tion was a rough board table in a dark, cold tent, with
merely a knapsack to rest the head upon, —
" Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are."
The hymns of Zion had been familiar to him at home,
and he tried to repeat, —
"Jesus, lover of my soul."
That was always a favorite hyran of raine, and I repeated
it to hira entire. It seeraed to give him a great deal of
comfort, and. to strengthen him eveu more than the rest
had done.
But his voice was already beginning to fail. Said he,
" There's — a — silver — pencil — in — pocket — — ."
He evidently wished to send it to sorae one for a keep
sake, and it was with the deepest sorrow we saw he was
unable to speak friendship's last raessage. There Was but
one friend of whom he had power to speak now. He had
lain for some minutes perfectly motionless. I thought all
was over. But all at once he roused up and said, —
"'Jesus, lover of my soul.' Ob, repeat that again ! "
My voice choked up so that I could hardly speak. With
broken utterances I once more went through with the
beautiful stanzas. But I know not if he heard me, for I
could not have got to the last verse before " the storm of
life" was over; "the haven" was reached, and "the bUlows"
had died away in eternal peace. ^
1 From thc N. Y. Examiner,
21

242 MEMORIALS OP THB WAR.

XXXV, THE CURRENT BETWEEN HOME AND CAMP.
Some of the marks fastened on the blankets, shirts, and
other gifts sent to the Sanitary Coraraission for the sol
diers, show the thought and feeling at home. Thus, on a
homespun blanket, worn, but washed as clean as snow,
was pinned a b'lt of piaper, which said, " This blanket was
carried by Milly Aldrich (who is ninety-three years old),
down hill and up hill, one and a half railes, to be given to
some soldier."
On a bed-quilt was pinned a card, saying, "My son is in
the army. Whoever is made warm by this quilt, which I
have worked on for six days and the greater part of six
nights, let him reraember his own mother's love."
On another blanket was this : " This blanket was used by
a soldier in the war of 1812; may it keep some soldier
warm in this war against traitors."
On a pillow was written : " This pillow belonged to my
little boy, who died resting on it ; it is a precious treasure
to me, but I give it for the soldiers."
On a pair of woollen socks was written : " These stock
ings were knit by a little girl five years old, and she is go
ing to knit some more, for mother says it wUl help some
poor soldier."
On a box of beautiful lint was this mark : " Made in a
sick-room, where the sunlight has not entered for nine
years, but where God has entered, and where two sons
have bid their mother good-by, as they have gone out to
the w.ar."
Ou a bundle containing b,andages was written : " This is
a poor gift, but it is all I had ; I havc given my husband
and ray boy, and only wish I had raore to give; but I
have not."

HOME-LINKS OP THE WAR. 243
On some eye-shades was raarked: "Made by one who
is blind. Oh, how I long to see the dear old flag that you
are all fighting under ! "
XXXVI,' HOME-LINKS OF THB WAR,
The Rev. Robert J, Parvin, a laborer for the Christian
Commission, related the following history, at a recent raeet
ing of that Association, in the Hall of Representatives at
Washington. At Gettysburg (said he), in the Fifth Corps Hospital, of
which I had charge in the Christian Commission's work for
a few weeks, I had occasion to see how many home-links
there are between our work and the last hours of dying
soldiers. I reraeraber well a captain frora the State of
Maine, ofthe 20th Maine Volunteers, who was brought into
that old barn, where were sixty-five of the worst cases in
the whole corps. Oh, they were all sadly wounded ! The
brave feUow had some of his own men lying on the floor
not far from him. He loved thera with a father's love. As
one after another they died around him, it worked so upon
his mind that he becarae a raving raaniac, uutil it took four
or five to hold hira. With gfeat difficulty we got him
away from his men who were dying, — in a roora by him
self, — and he raUied. The- surgeon went in to see him.
He carae out and I passed in. The surgeon had told rae
he could not live. If he had had a primary araputation —
an amputation, that is, on the field — he raight have recov
ered, but he could not now,
I took hira by the hand. His first words were, " Chap
lain, (for such they call us), what did the surgeon say ? "
" Why, captain, you are iu a critical case."
"I know that, chaplain ; but does the surgeon think I
can live?"

244 MEMORIALS OF THE WAR,
" He thinks it is hardly possible that you wiU live, cap
tain." "My wife, chaplain, — have you heard frora her since
your message yesterday ? "
" No ; we have received no answer. The lines are in the
hands of the Government, which needs thera ; perhaps
that is the reason we cannot get an answer at once. We
hope she will be here."
" Does the surgeon say I cannot live long, chaplain ? "
" Tes; but you are a Christian raan, Capt. Billings?"
" Tes, chajilain, I have no fears. I left ray place in the
Sabb.ath school for my place in the army. My hope is iu
the Lord Jesus Christ. I have tried to serve him in the
array, and he will not forsake rae now. I would like to see
my wife," he continued, as his thoughts recurred to that
dear one.
"Well, captain, if you have anything to say, will you
give the message to me ? "
He asked rae to give her his knapsack and sword, and
other little things that he mentioned ; and if she carae, the
message he wished me to deliver ; and then he seemed to
dismiss all these things from his raind, as he lay there calm,
peaceful, a dying man as well as a dying soldier, and, above
all, a dying Christian.
" Now," said he, at length, " don't stay longer with rae.
Go and minister to the boys, and run in here as you can to
read a few words of Scripture to rae, and kneel down and
pray with rae."
After I had prayed with him, he said to me, " Could you
have my body embalmed and sent home ? I lost my money
ou the field ? "
" Cci-tainly, captain, it shall be done; give yourself no
further thought about that."

HOME-LINKS OF THE WAR. 245
At no other time did he refer to it, but passed away as
a (lying Christian, triumphing over all the horrors of war,
over all the sad circumstances around him. It was in the
morning at eleven o'clock that he passed away. At five
o'clock that afternoon his body was sent to the erabalraer's.
At ten o'clock that night, as I was busy writing letters
from memoranda, taken through the day, a knock was
heard at my door. " Walk in," I responded. A man
stepped in,- inquiring, " Is Captain Billings, of the 20th
Maine, here ? "
What a question for us to meet ! But I thought of the
home-link. " Who are you ? " I asked.
" I ara his brother. I have his wife with me ! I have
buoyed her up this long way with the hope that we would
find the captain in good condition. Where is he, sir ? "
" Tou have not brought the captain's wife out here with
you to-night ? " The corps hospital was four miles from
Gettysburg. " No ; I left her in town for to-night."
" Oh, it is well ; the body of your brother was sent to the
embalmer's at five o'clock this afternoon ! "
"Oh! oh!" said he, "I cannot tell her! I cannot tell
her ! I cannot trust rayself to tell her, or even to see her
again, to-night ! "
The poor raan seemed overcome. " I cannot see her,"
he continued; " I have brought her on, all the way to Get
tysburg, and now you raust, you must tell her all."
And so our duty was to see the wife and deliver to her
the messages and the tokens of dying love of her husband,
and -speak to her words of comfort in the name ofthe
Lord ! His body was carried on to the State of Maine to
repose with those of his kindred there.
21*

246 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.

XXXVI. A PLEA FOR THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION.
Some account of General Howard, of Maine, has been
given on a previous page,'^ This gallant officer and decided
witness for Christ was one of the speakers at the great
meeting in PhUadelphia, on the 28th of January, the sec
ond anniversary of the United States Christian Corarais
sion, Such a mau has a right to be heard. No words
could be more appropriate to place here, as the last words
to linger on our ears as we bring these pages to an end,
than the foUowing sentences from the speech of this Chris
tian patriot, on that occasion,
I may be allowed (said he) to speak freely to the'fricnds
who are here to-night. Let me tell you one thing which I
need not suppress, if I could, and that is, that I feel in my
heart a deep and abiding interest iu the cause of my Re
deemer. I know that this is also the cause of the Christian
Commission, and, therefore, I love it, and identify myself
with it ; and I doubt not that you love it, and will do ev
erything you can for it, for a like reason. And now, I ask
you — as I am to go back to the field to take up my cross
anew, and to stand up night and day, evening and raorning,
for the cause of hira that I love — that your earnest, im
portunate prayers may follow me, and that God would
bless the soldiers, that evil may be repressed among them,
and that when they go into battle they may go without a
fear, because they know in whom they have believed.
My friends, I heard a general onoe say (he was not a
Christian General), in reference to General Magruder, on
the other side, that he could not be a very brave man, nor
have true courage, because he was such a profane and wick
ed man, aud deUghted to lead the young into shame and
1 See Chapter III, page 73.

A PLEA FOE THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION, 247
degradation, I am sure he was right. I assert that the
highest type of courage is Christian courage. When your
spirit yearns up to God in the prayer, " O, Lord, be ray
protector, and in this peril let rae run under the shadow of
thy wing," then you will fear no evil, though you walk
through the valley of the shadow of death.
My friends, these things are realities with me. By the
blessing of God, by his Spirit, he has enabled me to have a
clear couviction that, should he take me away, I shall go to
be with him. Not because I am good or holy or right
eous ; but because I have a Saviour, an all-sufficient Sa
viour, who is able to save even the chief of sinners unto the
uttermost. Therefore I am able to say that I can go into
the battle fearing no evil. And would to God, for |;heir
sakes, that every officer in the army and every soldier in
the ranks could declare, in sincerity from the depths of his
heart, that God had done such great things for him !
These to me are settled, soleran convictions, aud I speak
thera freely and frankly, as I am encouraged to do on this
auspicious occasion. It may seem to some that it is ex
pressing one's private feelings too publicly ; but I think it
well for me to bear such testiraony in a work like yours,
which conteraplates this great and all-iraportant result, —
the proraotion of heart-religion and the salvation of souls.
And especiaUy do I feel this, in these tiraes of excitement
and teiTor, over the mere temporal accessories of war, the
dreadful sacrifice of lives, the horrible sights of wounds, the
caring for the wounded and sick, the lamentations for the
dead, — amid all this I fear that the still, sraall voice has
not always been listened to, the sUent and beautiful, though
wonderful work of the Spirit of God has not been seen,
and its importance felt as it should be in our land. This
the Christian Commission is striving to accompUsh ; it seeks
to keep alive the spirit of Christianity among our soldiers.

248 MEMORIALS OP THB W.\R.
Their .ngency is the leaven in our armii'S. M;:y thty leaven
the whole lump ! It is this only that wdl prepare u.^^ for
our liberties. This bond, the bond of Christian love, is the
true bond, after all, that shall permanently unite us. There
is no other. We speak of the chains of commerce and
trade, of corn and cotton, that will unite the sections of
our country, — but these are teraporary, fluctuating, perish
ing links. The religion of Jesus Christ is the lasting bond
that connects not only Maine with Massachusetts, and Mas-
saciiusetts^with Connecticut, but Maine with Texas, and
Florida with Wisconsin.
We boast of being an asylura for all nations. From
England, Ireland, Prance, Germany, Russia, .ind almost ev
ery country beyond the ocean, come raen, women, and chil
dren, who settle down in the midst of us. How shall we
cause them to assimilate to us ? How shall we ever raake
thera good and useful citizens ? Will it be, think you, by
raerely giving them land on which to settle ? Will they
become one with us, because they grow in material wealth
and prosperity ? No, no ! Nothing but an education, a
true education of .heart and morals, such as the religion of
Jesus Christ iraparts, can ever truly and safely assimilate
all these heterogeneous elements, and enable us to be trulv
one people.
The gospel has its victories to achieve for us as well as
the sword. Many of the rebels hated us more before the
war than they do now. They respect us much raore than
they once did, after seeing that we are not afraid to expose
our bodies to be burned, if necessary, in a just cause, — the
cause of our country that we love,— -that wo shrink frora
no sacrifice of raoney, tirae, or life, in order to maintain
and perpetuate the beautiful government that our fathers
bequeathed to us.
But this is not all. They have felt, too, the power of

A PLEA FOE THB CHEISTIAN COMMISSION. 249
the spirit of kindness and love, of which the religion of
Jesus has borne so rasmy fruits in this struggle. They have
been astonished at the kindness which has been shown to
thera when they have fallen into our hands. It.was this
that deraoralized them at Vicksburg. In the West the
rebels are not so violent as they were. When they come
into our lines now, they say they were forced to fight, that
they are Union raen, and always were Union raen. And
they are coraing in every day. We have just heard that
since General Rosecrans took coraraand of the Curaberland
Array, eight thousand have delivered theraselves up to us.
And do they hate us ? No ! We have raelted them down
by Christian kindness and love. And, my friends, this is the
way to disarm them. I believe, and say it with emphatic
assurance, that if we all have the spirit of the Master in
our hearts we shall demoralize them wherever we find
them! I do not advocate any shrinking back, or checking of the
teri-ible steeds of war. No ! Fill up the ranks. Make
thera fuU, Make the next campaign more vigorous than
any that has gone before it, so that it shall be, by the divine
help, perfectly impossible for the rebels to keep the field.
But let us wield this power along with the alleviating and
saving influences of the religion of Christ. Let these, as
diffused by the Christian Commission, and in other wsys,
follow our armies everywhere, blessing friend and foe ahke,
and we shaU then cause the enemy to come into our lines,
not only by the eight thousand, but by the sixteen and the
sixty thousand. It is this that will ruin their cause, and
finally break down their opposition.
This terrible revolution has been brought upon us, by the
overruling hand of a wise Providence, among its other ef-
•fects, to tear out frora araong us the roots of prejudice,
— prejudice of the bitterest kind, that of races, Butnotii-

250 MEMORIALS OP THE WAR.
ing is too hard in the end for Christian love and charity
and truth ; and that spirit assuredly will prevail, and we
shall yet corae together and be one people, whose God is
the Lord. Let us resolve anew, as we go hence, that, as
for us, we will all do what we can for our country, our sol
diers, and the cause of Christ.
'' Lord, while for all mankind we pray.
Of every clime and coast.
Oh, hear us for our native land, —
The land we love the most.
Oh, guard our shores ft-om every foe;
With peace our borders bless, —
Our cities with prosperity.
Our fields with plenteousness.
Unite us in the sacred love
Of knowledge, truth, and thee,
And let our hills and valleys chant
The songs of liberty.
Lord of the nations, thus to thee
Our country we commend;
Be thou her refuge and her tmst,—
Her everlasting Friend."

INDEX.

Some matters arc set, forth here not represented in the general Table of
Contents, at tlie beginnmg of the volume. Names of persons and places are
given somewhat fidly, because they suggest to mjiny readers the points of chief
interest in the book.

Adams, an Ulinois soldier, 166.
Album of our generals, 237.
Aldrich, Milly, the gttt of an old man,
242.
Alien, C. A., chaplain from Indiana,
lis.
Alvord, Eev. J. W., Secretary of the
Tract Society, communications
from, 49, 79, 12.3, 131, 166.
Ambrotype of unknown children, 201.
Anderson, M.ajor, abandons Fort Moul
trie, 182; Ms speech to a Sunday
school, 191.
Andrew, B— , of Brooklyn, N. T., 79.
Audi-ews, Lorin, President of Kenyon
College, 16.
Angel of the hospital, 150.
Angels, an object of Interest to, 54.
Antietam visited after battle, 173 ; the
slaughter there, 228.
April 19th, henceforth doubly memora
ble, 200.
Army Hymn, why so popular, 189.
Articles of Faith, 129.

B  , Eev. Mr., one of the chaplains,
161.
BaU's Bluff, an exploit in the battle of,
196.
BarrowSjW, Rev., interesting letter of,
44.
" Banner of the Covenant " quoted, 26,
Banks, General, campaign in Virginia,
169.
Baptism, the nation's, 33.
Bartimseus, of whom the type, 45.
Baton Eouge, letter from, 47.
Bass, Eev. Mr., N. Y. chaplain, 58.
Bethune Dr., hnes of, 183.
Bealton Station, where the chaplains
met, 147.
Bentiey, Wm. C, of Ehode Island, 111,
Berry General, at Williamsburg, 23.
Bibles, donation of, 26 j the best pro
tectors, 92; found on the battle
fleld, 186.
Bible-men, 28.
Billings, Captain, of Maine, his death
at Gettysburg, 243.

251

252

INDEX.

Billy, the drummer-boy, 162.
Birch, Major, with Gen. Mitchell, 148.
Bomb-proof, a place of prayer, M.
" Boston Recorder " cUcd, 132, 218.
Bradley, Rev. D. JI., a patriotic mis
sionary, 193.
Broadhead, Colonel, his last words, 31 .
Brown, Robert A., chaplain, 28.
Buford, Colonel, 90; his last words, 231.
Bull Kun battle, incident 6 of, 65.
Burnside, General, his character, 184,
223. C.
Camp Nelson, Ky., the unlettered sol
dier-boy, 211.
Canada steamer, scene on board of, 92.
Canfield, Herman, Colonel, his triumph
in de.ith, 6i.
Carney, AViUiam H., heroic defence of
his flag, 115; his history, 116.
Carolina city, letter from, 25.
Catholic woman's piety, V27.
Cavidiers, English, 185.
Cemetery, National, at Gettysburg, 195.
Chadlow, Rev. Mr., circumstance men
tioned by, 161.
Chain bridge, on the Potomac, 74.
Charley, how he died, 117.
Chase, John W., and his brother, of
Rhode Island, 25.
Chase, Chaplain, of Maine, 151.
Cbase, Secretary of the Treasury, let
ter of, 194.
Chicago Sanitary Commission, 67.
" Chicigo Tribune," cited, 104, 238.
'* Christian Advocate," article from, .38.
Christ's soldiers in battle, 77.
Christinas night of 1860, for what mem
orable, 182.
Church members in the army, 22.
Churches, regimental, 123.
"Cincinnati Gazette," referred to, 37.
Clark, Chaplain, of Swampscot, Mass.,
95.
Clark, Rev. Bishop, of Rhode Island,
statement of, 184.
Collins, quotation fl-oni, 99.
" Congregationalist," referred to, 236.
Connecticut Ninth, Colonel Cahill, 68.

Conscience of the country aroused, 15
Contrabands, preaching to, 148.
Colton, Chaplain, of Indiana, 48.
CongrPSS, frigate, destruction of, 102.
Courage, moral, example of, 17.
Cromwell's motto, 185.
Cross how made easy, 82.
Cumberland, fate of that vessel, 102.
Currier, Oliver St, his diary, 227.

" Daily Advertiser," Boston, referred
to, 103.
Davis, Commodore, commended, 54.
Decision, Christian, 16.
De Soto, scene on board of, 56.
Devereux, Lieut.-Colonel, Mass., 177.
Donelson, Fort, incident there, 85.
Douglas Hospital, death of a soldier
in, 158.
Duffield, Jlrs., letter to the Christian
Commission, 13j.
DufBeld, II. jr., adjutant, 135.
Dying for one's enemies, 2'-;2.

Eagerness for religious reading, 141,
Eckington Hospital, 224.
Elkhart, Jlichigan, home of a brave sol
dier, 37.
Ellsworth's avengers, 51.
Evans. Bev. Mr., of Connecticut, 30.
Emancipation prochtimed, 189.
"Exjiminer," New York, referred to,
241.
Example, personal, power of, 79.
F.
Faith in Christ, its power, 42, 119, 122.
Fair Oaks, battle of, 110.
Fifty-fourth M.ass., colored troops, 113.
Flag, next to the cross, 18.
Flag, which way it points, 213; used as
a pidl, 217.
Flag-raising at Sumter, 183.
Flag-ship Benton, scene on board of, 54.

INDEX.

253

Foote, Admiral, his death, 57; a pray
ing commander, S9.
Forgiveness, iUustration of, 148.

6.
-, chaptain of the Mass.

Gaylord, -
Twelfth, l^'^.
Gettysburg, battle of, 186.
Gilder, Chaplain, Xew York, 151.
Gospel, ameliorating spirit of, 91.
Gospel, designed for all, 211.
Gough, JIr.,liis speech, 100.
Graton, Edward R., of Clap\ ille, Mass.,
142.
Graves, " lonely," 99.
Griffith, Captain, his peaceful end, 61.
Gustavus Adolphus, hlsarmy, 155.
H.
Harrison, Colonel, of the Seventieth
Indiana, 138.
Hagerstown, JId., a funeral there, 235.
Hamiston, father of the PortviUe chil
dren, 201.
Hampton Roads, sea-fight there, 102.
Havelock's Highlanders, 40.
Henry, John, of Indiana, the Sabbath-
school teacher, 40.
Hero, the true one, 219.
Holmes, Dr. 0. W., his " Hymn," 189.
Hope for the bereaved, 128.
Hopkinton, N. H., soldier from, 47.
Hospitals, labors in, 69.
Houses of Congress, their vote for a
fast, 187.
Howard, General, of Maine, his char
acter, 78; at a friend's death-bed,
60 ; his speech at Philadelphia, 246.
Hymn, the last on earth, 85.
I.
IlUnois Eighty-third Regiment, bravery
of, at Fort Donelson, 166.
Iowa First Regiment, drummer-boy
of, 106.
Indiana Thirteenth, an experience of
their chaplain, 27.
Ironsides, who they were, 27.

J.
Jackson, Stonewall, in the Shenandoah,
169.
James, Rev. Mr., chaplain, Mass., 143.
'* Jamie" they called him, 161.
"Journal," Boston, extract from, 22.

Keepsakes of the dead, 226.
Kenyon College, Ohio, its patriotio
President, 16.
Kilpatrick, General, his color-bearer,
2.33.
Kindness, effect of, 210, 249.
King, Captain, of Roxbury, Mass., his
bravery, 238.
Knapsack, its contents, 157; sent home
as the last gift, 244.

Lasher, chaplain of the Connecticut
Fifth, 188.
Leasure, D., Colonel of the Ninth
Pennyslvania Regiment, 27.
Lee, Edward, the Tennessee drummer-
boy, 104.
Lee's MUl, battle of, 75.
Lexington, Mass., the battle there, re
ferred to, 200.
Life's "fag-end," 235.
Lincoln, President, attempt to assassi
nate, 180; proceeds to Washington,
181 ; remarks of, at SteubenvUle,
182 ; appoints a fast, 187 ; proclaims
emancipation, 190; reply of, to the
Synod, 192 ; anecdote of, 237.
Lock and key found at the right mo
ment, 51.
Long Bridge, station of the Mass. Thir
teenth, 34.
Lord's Prayer, how expressive, 98.
Lutzen, in Germany, battle of, 185,
Lyceums in the army, 52.

251

INDEX.

M,
Macauk'7's chiiracter of the Puritans,
185.
Magrude?, the rebel general, 246.
Mahon, Kev. Jlr., of Jlichigan, 28.
JIalveru Hill, an incident there, 53.
Martyrology of the church, 42.
Mcllvaine, Bishop of Ohio, discourse
of, 16.
Marks, Rev. Dr., describes a revival,
128.
JIartyrs, unnamed, 199.
Massachusetts Second, at Stoneman's
Station, 45.
Massachusetts Nineteenth, crossing the
Rappahannock, 177. ,
Massachusetts T^venty-second, prayer-
meeting of, 83.
Means, Rev. J. O., of Roxbury, sermon
by, 175.
Memphis Hospital, 83.
Michig.an Seventh, at Fredericksburg,
121.
Midnight summons, 227.
Mind triumpliaut over the body, 64.
Ministry, mark of a true one, 212.
Jlitchell, General, as a preacher, 44;
account of his death, 154; striking
remark of, 203.
Morris Island, attack on the fortress
there, 112.
Monitor, the, decides the victory, 103.
Jlothers, how much they suffer, 60 ;
intluence of, 146; prayers of. an
swered, 146; dying testimony to,
198, 234.
Moultrie, Fort, abandoned, 182.

N.
Nantucket, Mass., its br.ave soldier, 98.
Newburyport, Mass., its unnamed sol
dier, 120.
Newcomb, Edgar M., of Boston, his
character and death, 175.
New England Rooms in New York, 53.
"New London" gunboat, at work, 69.

New York Seventh, on the way to
Washington, 72.
New York Fortieth Regiment, its his
tory, 151.
North Mountain, Virginia, a death
there, 169.

Ohio Ninth Brigade, at ShelbyviUe,
Tenn., 44.

Pantomime of a battle, 93.
Paragraph, remarkable one in a will, 24.
Park St. Church, Boston, a funeral
there, 172.
Parvin, Rev. J., touching recital of, 243.
Pastor chosen captain, 21.
Patent Office Hospital, a death there,'
168.
Peck, Solomon, D.D., a communication
from, 27.
Pennsylvania Sixth, with its church,
124; Sixty-third, a scene in the
camp of, 152.
Phelps, Captam, on board the Benton,
55.
Pohlman, the missionary in China, 20;
lis son slain in battle, 21.
PoUard, W. S., of the Thhteenth Mass.,
144.
Prayer how answered, 146.
Prayer and work, 35.
Prejudice of races, how inveterate, 249.
Psalm, nineteenth, applied, 73.
Putnam, W. Lowell, of Boston, his
heroism, 95.

Quint, A. H., Chaplain of the Mass.
Second, 126; his address to the
soldiers, 188.

INDEX.

255

R.
Rappahannock, crossing of, 177.
Rebels, kind to a Union soldier, 85-
Recd, chaplain of the Penn. Thirtieth,
188.
Repentance, never too late, 235.
Rhode Islanders, ?6.
Richmond, the pri.son iu, 64.
Rock used as a pulpit, 44.
Rus^ei, Colonel, of Connecticut, his
conversion and death, 72.

S  , of the Mass. Tenth, 240.
Sabbath, how spent at Beaufort, S. C,
29.
Safford, Mary, her hospital labors, 66.
Simpson, Bishop, his sermon at Chi
cago, 17.
Sanders, General, his death, 222.
Savage, Rev. Mr., a workman for
Christ, 88.
Scorner, reproved, 43.
Scott, WiUiam, pardoned by the Presi
dent, 75; circumstances of his
death, 75.
Scripture, power of, 73, 84.
Sedgwick, General, anecdote of, 206.
Sewell, Rev. Jonathan, of Maine, 227.
Servants of Christ, their reward, 41.
Shaw, Robert G., Colonel, circumstan
ces of his death, 112.
Shiloh, an event of the battle there, 18.
Ship Island, the first Sabbath there, 68.
Sidney, Sir PhUip, at Zutphen, 96.
Smith, J. M., of Maine, his talents and
heroic end, 22.
Smith, Governor, ofthe State of Rhode
Island, 213.
Smith, Joseph, Lieut., kUled on board
the Congress, 103.
_Stars at night, the teaching of, 19, 63.
Statesmanship, what is essential to it,
180.
Steadman, Levi, of the Sixth Wiscon
sin, 134.

Stoever, Prof., of Gettysburg, articles
from, 00, 125.
Strickland, Kev. Mr., at Gen. Mitchell's
death-bed, lis.
Stuart, George II., President of the
Christian Commission, 135.
Sublimity of sufl'ering, 110.
iSweetser, Francis, of the Massachu
setts Sixteenth, 111.
T.
Taylor, Zachary, eulogy on, 237.
Tennessee, East, sermon preached on
its moiintains, 44,
Thompson, John H., the collegian, 169.
Tract Society, American, report of, 89.
Trdwbridge, the dying sentinel, 207.
Twentieth M.aine Volunteers, an officer
of. 243.
Twenty-second Mass., prayer-meeting
of, 45.
Twenty-fourth New York, Christian
men in, 49. V.
UnadUla, New York, its noble soldier
68.
Union of the States, worth dying for^
.32.
Union, the true bond of, 248.
Union soldiers, graves of, at Fi-ed-
ericksburg, 122.
Uniontown, Ky., skirmish there, 40.

Van Shalck, George, the pastor's son,
58.
Vermont Third Regiment, one of their
heroes, 74.
Vermont Twelfth Regiment, their Sab
bath school, 137.
Veterans in the service, 152.
Vicksburg, the siege of, 91.
Victory over the fears of death, 244.
Volunteer, the first one in Ohio, 16'.
Volunteers, the ^Fifty-ninth, of New
York, 20.

256

INDEX,

W.
War, " tearful," 59.
War, what it costs, 175.
Warren, Charles, of Massachusetts, Iiis
fortitude, 93.
Washington, Captain, of Dubuque,
Iowa, 91.
'Webster, Daniel, a rem.^rlc of, 237.
Western churclie.*, how fully represent
ed in the army, 22.
Weston, Rev. Dr., New York, chaplain,
William B  , of Massachusetts, his
last prayer, 157.
William J  , of Maine, his last
request, 125.
Williams, Captain, died at BeaiiTort,
S. C, 155.
Williamsburg, Va., incidents of the
battle there, 23, 101, 234.
Winchester, Va, suffering of our
wounded there, 214.

Wisconsin Sixth Regiment, death of
one of its soldiers, 133.
Woman, the only white one at Win
chester, Va., 216.
Woman, gift of our blind, 243.
Women benevolent labors of, in hos
pitals, 66.
Wounds, how various, 219.

Yorktown, attack on, 24.
Yorktown, relics of the Revolution
there, 75; music heard by night,
204.
Young, the, advice to, by General
Anderson, 190.

Zeal, patriotic, signal instance of, 21.
Zion, hymns of, then- power, 224, 241.
" Zion's Advocate," article accredited
to, 203.

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59 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON,
Would call particular attention to the following valuable works described
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Hugh. Miller's "Works.
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Kitto's Cyclopeedia of Biblical Literature.
3Vtrs. Knight's Life of Montgomery. Kitto's History of Palestine.
Wheweirs Work. Wayland'a Works, Agassiz's Works.

*. Williams* Works. G-uyot's Works.
Thompson's Better Land. Kim.ball's Heaven. Valuable Works on Misslonfi.
Haven's Mental Philosophy. Buchanan's Modern Atheism.
Cruden'a Condensed Concordance. Eadie's Analytical Concordance*
The Psalmist : a Collection of Hymns,
Valuable ScB,ool Books. Works for Sabbath Schools.
Memoir of Amos Lawrence.
Poetical Works of Milton, Cowper, Scott. Elegant Miniature Volumes,
Arvine's Cycloprsdia of Anecdotes.
Biplcy's Notes on G-ospcls, Acts, and Bomans,
Sprague's European Celebrities. Marsh's Camel and tho Hallig.
Koget's Thesaurus of English Words.
Hackett's ISTotes on Acts, M'Whortcr's Yahveh Christ.
SieDold and St^nnius's Comparative Anatomy. Maroou's G-coloffical Map, U. S,
Religious and Miscellaneous Works.
"Works iu the various Departments of Literature, Srienoe and Art.

ill!

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