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Moores Head (Maine, United States) (search for this): chapter 28
ndspike. A sharp report—that unmistakable crash of the bullet against the skull, and all was over. 'Twas the last rifle shot on the lines that night The rushing together of the detachment obstructed my view; but as I came up, the sergeant stepped aside and said, Look there, Adjutant. Moore had fallen over on the trail, the blood gushing from his wound all over his face. His little brother was at his side instantly. No wildness, no tumult of grief. He knelt on the earth, and lifting Moore's head on to his knees, wiped the blood from his forehead with the cuff of his own tattered shirt sleeve, and kissed the pale face again and again, but very quietly. Moore was evidently dead, and none of us cared to disturb the child. Presently he rose—quiet still, tearless still—gazed down on his dead brother, then around at us, and breathing the saddest sigh I ever heard, said just these words: Well, I am alone in the world. The preacher captain instantly sprang forward, and placing his han<
Appomattox (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 28
stantly sprang forward, and placing his hand on the poor boy's shoulder, said solemnly but cheerfully, No, my child, you are not alone, for the Bible says, when my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up, and Allan was both father and mother to you: besides, I'm going take you up, too; you shall sleep under my blanket to-night. There was not a dry eye in the group; and when, months afterwards, the whole battalion gathered on a quiet Sabbath evening, on the banks of the Appomattox, to witness a baptism, and C. at the water's edge tenderly handed this child to the officiating minister, and receiving him again when the ceremony was over, threw a blanket about the little shivering form, carried him into the bushes, changed his clothing, and then reappeared carrying the bundle of wet clothes, and he and the child walked away hand in hand to camp—then there were more tears, manly, noble, purifying tears; and I heard the sergeant say, Faith! the Captain has fulfilled his
Georgia (Georgia, United States) (search for this): chapter 28
s bright Which shall new lustre boast, When victors' wreaths and monarch's gems Shall blend in common dust. Major Robert Stiles, of Richmond, in an address delivered in 1869 before the Male Orphan Asylum of Richmond, related an incident which I will not mar by condensing, but give in his own eloquent words: One of the batteries of our own battalion was composed chiefly of Irishmen from a Southern city—gallant fellows, but wild and reckless. The captaincy becoming vacant, a backwoods Georgia preacher named C. was sent to command them. The men, at first half amused, half insulted, soon learned to idolize as well as fear their preacher captain, who proved to be, all in all, such a man as one seldom sees, a combination of Praise-God Barebones and Sir Philip Sidney, with a dash of Hedley Vicars about him. He had all the stern grit of the Puritan, with much of the chivalry of the Cavalier, and the zeal of the Apostle. There was at this time but one other Christian in his battery,
Providence, R. I. (Rhode Island, United States) (search for this): chapter 28
und (Confederate money) to help eke out his scant rations. Entering the trenches I soon joined my gallant friend, Major John R. Bagby, of the Thirty-fourth Virginia regiment, who accompanied me down the lines as we distributed tracts and religious newspapers, and talked with the men concerning the great salvation. There was a good deal of picket firing going on at the time; the minnie balls would whistle by our ears, and (forgetful of Dr. Dabney's application of the doctrine of Special Providence) I found myself constantly dodging, to the no small amusement of the men. At last we came to a man who was the fortunate possessor of a frying-pan, and the still more fortunate possessor of something to fry in it. As we stood near, a minnie struck in the centre of his fire and threw ashes all around. He moved about as much as I should have done to avoid smoke, and went on with his culinary operations, coolly remarking: Plague take them fellows. I 'spect they'll spile my grease yet befor
Five Forks (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 28
g battle, and stirred the souls of preacher and hearer to an earnestness seldom attained. There were earnest faces and glistening tears, and when, at the close of the sermon, those desiring the prayers of God's people were invited to come forward, there were over two hundred who promptly responded, a number of whom professed faith in Christ before leaving the ground. In that long line of nearly forty miles of entrenchments, extending from north and west of Richmond to Hatcher's Run and Five Forks, below Petersburg, the opportunities for preaching and other religious services were varied. Some parts of the line were subjected to almost constant fire from the enemy, and the men could never assemble outside of the bomb proofs, but other parts were sufficiently distant from the enemy's lines to allow the men to assemble even outside of the trenches A large number of comfortable chapels were erected—more would have been built but for the scarcity of timber—and where the men could not a
Bruington (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 28
tional spirit prompted me to acquiesce at once. But when we went in we found the large bomb proof filled with devout worshippers, and it proved one of the most tender, precious meetings I ever attended. If I mistake not, Rev. John W. Ryland (then orderly sergeant of the King and Queen company) led the singing, and they sang, with tender pathos that touched every heart, some of those old songs which dear old Uncle Sam. Ryland used to sing, and which were fragrant with hallowed memories of Bruington. [I wonder if Uncle Sam. is not now singing, with Richard Hugh Bagby and other loved ones, some of those same old songs, for surely they were sweet enough for even the heavenly choir.] I might write columns about those services in the trenches, but I can find space now for only one other incident. In the summer of 1864 I preached a good deal in Wright's Georgia brigade where we had a precious revival, and a large number of professions of conversion. The brigade was stationed at a po
Charles Town (West Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 28
need all of the rest they can get to fit them for the impending struggle of to-morrow. But I cannot consent that we shall sleep to-night until we have had a brief season of prayer to thank God for the victory and preservation of the day, and to beseech His protection and blessing during the continuance of this terrible conflict. Hugh White entered at once into the proposal, Rev. A. C. Hopkins (then chaplain of the Second Virginia Infantry, now pastor of the Presbyterian church at Charlestown, West Virginia, and one of those faithful chaplains who was always found at the post of duty even when it was the post of hardship or of danger) was found in the bivouac near by and gladly consented to lead the meeting. The men were quietly notified that there would be a prayer meeting at brigade headquarters as soon as they could assemble, and nearly the whole of this brigade and many from other brigades promptly gathered at the appointed spot. It was a tender, precious season of worship, ther
Robert Stiles (search for this): chapter 28
d by and about the same moment Hugh White was shot down while bearing the flag of his own regiment and behaving with most conspicuous gallantry, and those two young men who mingled so lovingly in the prayer meeting of the night before had entered through the pearly gates, were walking golden streets, and were wearing fadeless crowns of victory— That crown with peerless glories bright Which shall new lustre boast, When victors' wreaths and monarch's gems Shall blend in common dust. Major Robert Stiles, of Richmond, in an address delivered in 1869 before the Male Orphan Asylum of Richmond, related an incident which I will not mar by condensing, but give in his own eloquent words: One of the batteries of our own battalion was composed chiefly of Irishmen from a Southern city—gallant fellows, but wild and reckless. The captaincy becoming vacant, a backwoods Georgia preacher named C. was sent to command them. The men, at first half amused, half insulted, soon learned to idolize a
Stonewall Jackson (search for this): chapter 28
and for this interesting chapter of our history.] On the night before the last day's battle at Second Manassas occurred one of the most touching episodes of which I heard. Colonel W. S. H. Baylor [I ought really to call him General, for Stonewall Jackson and R. E. Lee had both recommended his promotion, and his commission had actually been made out when news of his lamented death reached Richmond], one of the most widely known and loved young men in the State, was in command of the famous old Stonewall Brigade, which had the year before won its name and immortal fame on these historic plains. Sending for his friend, Captain Hugh White—son of the venerable Dr. William S. White, of Lexington, Stonewall Jackson's old pastor, and himself a theological student—who commanded one of the companies in the brigade, Will Baylor (as we used familiarly to call him) said to him: I know the men are very much wearied out by the battle to-day, and that they need all of the rest they can get to
William S. White (search for this): chapter 28
onel W. S. H. Baylor [I ought really to call him General, for Stonewall Jackson and R. E. Lee had both recommended his promotion, and his commission had actually been made out when news of his lamented death reached Richmond], one of the most widely known and loved young men in the State, was in command of the famous old Stonewall Brigade, which had the year before won its name and immortal fame on these historic plains. Sending for his friend, Captain Hugh White—son of the venerable Dr. William S. White, of Lexington, Stonewall Jackson's old pastor, and himself a theological student—who commanded one of the companies in the brigade, Will Baylor (as we used familiarly to call him) said to him: I know the men are very much wearied out by the battle to-day, and that they need all of the rest they can get to fit them for the impending struggle of to-morrow. But I cannot consent that we shall sleep to-night until we have had a brief season of prayer to thank God for the victory and pres
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