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Appomattox (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
ertaining to his own position, and held officers and men to a rigid accountability. His closest personal friends ceased to look for any deviation in their favor from his strict enforcement of the regulations. For four years he maintained such discipline, and with notable results. Not only in his lifetime were his men ever ready, nay eager, to meet the enemy, but when he himself had fallen in action, the old battalion followed its officers, some through their very homes, to the plains of Appomattox, with ranks intact, save from casualties of fight. When he had been recommended for promotion to the command of an infantry brigade (which General Lee declined to do, on the ground that he could not be spared from the artillery, and made him instead colonel of artillery, which is recognized as really a higher rank than brigadier of infantry), he thus wrote to his mother: Now, my dear mother, you must not think that I am conceited, and that I rely on my own ability, if I get this
Clark County (Ohio, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
ed grave, discern an unearthly and incorruptible bloom bestowed by the invisible hand of grace, to refresh with its fragrance those who mourn him, and hereafter to bear the precious fruit of eternal life. Major Hugh Mortimer Nelson, of Clark county, Virginia, who was one of the ablest of the union men of the Virginia Convention of 1861, but who, like most of his party, buckled on his sword when all of Virginia's efforts at pacification had failed, and did gallant service on the staff of Generl clergyman. It is well, then, with him. His ministry has only been transferred to a higher sphere. Up there, away beyond the stars, they that wait for the Lord shall meet him in the morning. Colonel William Welford Randolph, of Clark county, Virginia, fell at the Wilderness, on the 5th of May, 1864, heroically leading the old Second Virginia Infantry, Stonewall Brigade. Colonel John Esten Cooke writes, for the University Memorial, a graceful sketch of this noble soldier, from which
Bruington (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
very large proportion of our evangelical preachers, under sixty and over thirty-five, at the South, learned in the army to endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. And certainly a very large proportion of our most efficient church-members within the past twenty years have been those who found Christ in the camp, or had the pure gold of their Christian character refined and purified by the fiery trials through which they were called to pass. Rev. Dr. Richard Hugh Bagby, of Bruington, Virginia, told me that of twenty-seven members of his Church, who returned at the close of the war, all save two came back more earnest Christians and more efficient churchmembers than they had ever been, and many other pastors have borne similar testimony. A recent letter from a gallant soldier and active Christian worker in the noble little State of South Carolina tells me of the two most active and useful laymen in his section, who found Christ in the camp, and in travelling all over th
Martinsburg (West Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
im still closer to the Cross. At length the eyes opened again: Tell my mother that I was brave; that I never flinched a bit. I have before quoted from the admirable book of Dr. John L. Johnson—the University of Virginia Memorial—and I shall now cull from it some of the many dying utterances of Our Fallen Alumni, which beautifully and touchingly show the reality of the profession of faith in Christ which so large a proportion of these noble men made. Holmes and Tucker Conrad, of Martinsburg, were my friends at the university, and I could add my emphatic testimony to their humble, earnest, Christian character. They fell in the thickest of the fight at First Manassas, fighting side by side and behaving with most conspicuous gallantry, and were afterwards found clasped in each other's arms. The appropriate epitaph on their tomb tells the touching story of their lives and death: Holmes Addison Conrad Henry Tucker Conrad Christian brothers, Lie buried here, side by side, as the
Halifax county (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
ed through the breast. Tell my sister, said he, I die happy on the battle-field, in defence of my country; and with these words on his lips—his dying message to his idolized, only sister—his pure spirit ascended to God. James Chalmers, of Halifax county, who fell on the outpost and died several days after at Fairfax Court House, is thus spoken of by an intimate friend: He possessed all the higher attributes of a Christian warrior, with hand on hilt and eye on heaven, fighting at once utry. Take Him as your great example, remembering that there is no happiness save in a life of virtue. With these beautiful words trembling on his lips, he closed his eyes, and the brave young spirit was gone. Captain Patrick H. Clark, of Halifax county, fell at the post of duty, stricken by disease after passing unscathed through shot and shell; and the venerable Bishop Johns, of the Episcopal Church, thus spoke of him: Other appropriate obituaries have borne truthful testimony to the ma
Bowling Green, Wood County, Ohio (Ohio, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
orsville bravely doing his duty in command of his guns of the Charlottesville Artillery, was my pupil when a boy, and I watched with deepest interest his development into the heroic man he proved himself to be, but above all I rejoiced that his simple trust in Christ grew stronger as the years went on. In a sketch of him it is said: From Richmond the battery followed the fortunes of the field again until after the battle of Fredericksburg, when it settled down in winter-quarters at Bowling Green, Caroline county, Virginia. Here opportunity was afforded for the display of both the officer and the man. In the former capacity he was faithful, energetic, even ambitious, in the discharge of duty; in the latter he was genial and companionable, and by his good fellowship won the hearts of those under his authority, until, such was his popularity, scarcely a word of complaint was ever uttered against him. In illustration of his Christian temper the following incident may be related:
Chaffin (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
1864; lingered until the 24th of August, and calmly passed away, murmuring with his dying breath: Father, into Thy hands I commit my spirit. The noble death of Louis Rogers was but the fulfilment of the prophecy of his noble life when I knew him at the university. General Henry A. Wise, in a letter to his father, pays this young soldier the following glowing tribute. Richmond, Virginia, July 5, 1869. My Dear Sir: . . . I first noticed Louis in a shady retreat from the camp at Chaffin, in the year 1862, reading his Bible to a comrade in the woods. His quiet, earnest manner in his pious work struck me. I had before noticed him passingly, as your son, for your sake; but now that I saw his character, I began to notice him for his sake and mine too. I found that he had an exemplary influence with all the young men of his company. He could keep them orderly and obedient and on duty, while his officers could not. I soon found him not only moral, but intellectual; not merely
Harper's Ferry (West Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
ar of his country. He was a worthy citizen and a most useful Christian. As a minister and a Sabbath-school superintendent, he exerted a happy influence wherever he labored to do good. He entered the service a captain of the Central City Blues, of the renowned Twelfth Georgia, and endured cheerfully all the hardships of the soldier's life. He passed unharmed through seventeen desperate battles, and fell gloriously on this bloody field. Wearied and almost worn out by the investment of Harper's Ferry and the march to the battle-field, his men lay on their arms awaiting the attack which was to be made at dawn of day. The assault was terrible, and for an hour Captain Rogers, in command of the regiment, passed up and down the line encouraging his men. While thus exposed, all the fingers of his left hand were shot off, and he was severely wounded in the thigh, but he remained with his men until forced to leave by sheer exhaustion. As he was moving off, supported by some of his men, a bu
Twymans Mill (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
ess of these revivals, and to cull only a few of the hundreds of incidents I have, showing how these men met the king of terrors. A noble fellow who fell at Gaines's Mill, the 27th of June, 1862, said to comrades who offered to bear him to the rear: No! I die. Tell my parents I die happy. On! on to victory! Jesus is with me, With his hand on this blessed book pressed to his heart, he called on God to be his shield and support in the hour of battle. He passed the terrible ordeal of Gaines's Mill on Friday and Malvern Hill on Tuesday, where the men fell around him like grain before the reapers and covered the ground thick as autumn leaves. A degree of used frequently to read it to me when I was a boy. I know its meaning now. Yes! and I will soon meet her, and dear Ed. A younger brother, who had fallen at Gaines's Mill, June 27, 1862. too, in one of those bright mansions which Jesus went to prepare for us. Thus on the 2d day of September, 1863, Francis Pendleton Jones passed
Baltimore, Md. (Maryland, United States) (search for this): chapter 13
d in every State from Maryland to Texas—to ascertain the after-lives of the four hundred and ten soldiers whom I baptized in the army, and I have heard of only three (there were doubtless others) who have gone back to the world. One pastor of a leading Church in the south-west said to me: I am indebted to you for baptizing in the army the best and most efficient men in my Church. I had a tender meeting several years ago with a delegate from Texas to the Southern Baptist Convention at Baltimore, whom I had baptized on the Rapidan in August, 1863, and I might give a number of touching incidents concerning these men whom I meet all over the South. In the summer of 1865 I was travelling one day along a country road in Virginia, when I saw a young man plowing in the field, guiding the plow with one hand, while an empty sleeve hung at his side. I know not how others may feel about it, but for myself I never see the empty sleeve or halting gait of the true Confederate soldier that
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