William W. Bennett, A narrative of the great revival which prevailed in the Southern armies during the late Civil War

[17]

Chapter 2: subjects of the revival.

There is a strongly marked difference between armies of invasion and armies of defence. The former are often mere bands of butchers following at the heels of some ambitious leader. But when men fight for country, kindred, and home, they bear a moral character that lifts them above mercenary motives.

Soldiers may fight bravely for glory, or for gain. We should not underrate the valor of the men that bore the standards of Alexander, Caesar, and Napoleon, to so many victories; but take from such soldiers the esprit du corps, and you have left no pure and high inspiration which makes it “sweet to die for one's country.”

In our war the Northern people fought, as they declared, to maintain the Union as it came from the hands of the fathers; the Southern people fought for the right of self-government. The war was brought to our doors, and was waged against us with the most determined and relentless spirit. Our people were thoroughly aroused, and rushed into the army from all ranks of society. They bore with them the convictions, thoughts, and habits they had been accustomed to in peaceful life. They were citizen soldiers; and though they shook off to some extent, in the early part of the war, the influences of education and religion; yet, when dangers thickened, and disease and death thinned their ranks, these returned upon them with increasing power.

The feelings of true patriotism lie next to the higher sentiments of religion in the heart, and the man that cheerfully bears the yoke for the sake of his oppressed country will not stubbornly refuse to bear the yoke of [18] Christ. Therefore, the patriotic fervor which prevailed among the Southern soldiers superinduced a state of mind highly favorable to the work of religion.

In most nations the privates of an army are “raked up from the lowest tier of human society.” Their officers look upon them as so much bone and muscle, to be wrought, by iron discipline, into a huge engine of destruction called an army.

If war is a necessary evil, why should we strip those who engage in it of the common attributes of humanity? Soldiers are more than “food for cannon.” They have like passions with other men, and may be reached by the same means that have been proved to be efficient in the salvation of other men.

Never were these divinely appointed means more fully tested than during the late civil war; and surely never were they found more effectual in turning men “from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God.” In the midst of all the privations and horrors of war “the grace of God appeared” unto thousands and tens of thousands in the camp and in the hospital, “teaching them that, denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, they should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world.” The subjects of this revival were found among all classes in the army. Generals in high command, and officers of all lower grades, as well as private soldiers, bowed before the Lord of Hosts, and with deep penitence and earnest prayer sought the pardon of sins through the atoning blood of Christ.

Speaking of those who obeyed the call of mercy in the ranks of the army, a writer in the midst of the war exclaims: “We cannot express our feelings while we think of them. Glorious fruits of the grace of God are these men that have been “born again” on fields of blood. They left their homes for battle with a desperate foe — they entered into associations and upon scenes, by universal consent, the most unfavorable to piety; but the [19] ever-blessed Saviour went with them; listening to ten thousand fervent prayers, he revived his work and made the still, small voice to be heard amid the thunder of war. It is a sublime expression of mercy.”

In contemplating such a revival, we naturally look at its subjects with deep interest. Who were they? What were they? What characteristics did those men present, who were lions in the day of battle, and yet wept and beat their breasts in great sorrow when they thought of their sins?

Is there not something peculiar in these men who are converted while they stand guard, or lie in their riflepits, or sit by their camp-fires, through the dismal, rainy nights? These men that walk their beats filled with the love of God, and shout his praises in the thunder of battle?

We have already referred to the patriotic fervor that pervaded the Southern armies. In addition to this, our camps were blessed from the outbreak of the strife with moral and religious men who never forgot their obligations to God. The army had in it every class of believers, from the bishop to the neophyte. Preachers, students of divinity, Sunday-school teachers and scholars, elders, deacons, vestrymen, class-leaders, stewards, exhorters-men from all the official grades of all the denominations of Christians took up arms and swelled the ranks of the army.

Some of these, alas! cast away the “pearl of great price,” others suffered its lustre to be dimmed, but the majority kept it bright and untarnished throughout the dreadful ordeal. The influence of such men in the worst of armies would be powerful for good; how great it must have been among such soldiers as marched under the Southern banner! It has been well observed that “no Christian soldier can pass through a campaign, and exemplify the Christian tempers and qualities looked for in a follower of Christ, without dropping seeds of saving [20] grace into some minds and hearts that will culminate in everlasting life.”

The irreligious men who were blessed with these godly examples were not strangers to their pious comrades. They were often from the same town, county, or district, and at home had felt the same religious power that was brought to bear upon them in the army. The gospel preached in the camp was not a new sound to them, nor were the words of prayer a strange language. It was home-like to meet for the worship of God, and not unfrequently the same minister whom they had known in their distant homes lifted up his voice among them “in the wilderness,” and called them to repentance. How often were scenes like the following witnessed among the rough-looking men in “gray jackets,” who crowded the “log chapels” to hear the glad tidings of salvation. Rev. Dr. Sehon, writing of his labors among the soldiers in General Lee's army, says:

A most interesting incident occurred during the exercises of the evening:

A request was made for a Bible for the stand. Several were ready to respond. The book was received from a tall and interesting looking young man. I noticed his large blue eyes and attractive face as he came forward and placed the holy book before me. Instantly his home rose before me. I fancied how father, mother, brothers, sisters, felt when he left, and how they thought of and prayed for him. While lining the hymn I turned to the title page of the Bible and then my eyes were filled with tears. On the blank leaves were written the parting words of love and affection of the dear ones at home, with the kind advice and earnest prayers for the safety and happiness of the owner of the book. I closed the book with feelings of most sacred character, and was far better prepared, by this simple incident, for the solemn services of the hour. In the course of the sermon, I remarked that they were now peculiarly the subjects of [21] earnest prayer and anxious solicitude. That for them, at this very hour, prayer from many a heart and home-altar was ascending to God--that as in the volume I then held in my hand, which had been laid on the table by my unknown young friend, so each had with him a similar silent, yet painful witness of the anxiety, devotion and prayers, as pledged in these sacred gifts of their loved ones at home — that they should now pray themselves to their heavenly Father and engage earnestly in his service.

There was a low and gentle wail which came up from that weeping crowd like the mournful sounds of the passing breeze through the lofty pines of the distant forest.

The intelligence and social position of the Confederate soldiers were higher than we usually find in large bodies of troops. The private at home was often equal, and sometimes superior in social status to the officer that led him, and did not forget the claims of good breeding after he entered the army. “I am proud to say it for Confederate soldiers,” said the venerable Dr. Lovick Pierce, of Georgia, “that for a long time while travelling with hundreds and thousands of them on all the railroads used for transportation, I have heard less profane language issuing from them than I have ever heard from any promiscuous crowd of travellers in all my journeyings. It is a well-earned fame, and deserves an imperishable record. Most of them seem to belong to the gentleman stock.”

Said the Rev. J. M. Atkinson: “The talent, the energy, patriotism-and now, it would seem, the piety of the country is, for the most part, to be found in the army. One of the most remarkable manifestations of this time, and of the war, is the character of our armies. It is unlike that of any soldiers known in history. In religious fervor, in intelligent patriotism, they resemble the best troops of the English Commonwealth, when least infected [22] with fanatical rancor and selfish ambition. But in refinement, in urbanity, in education, in simplicity of purpose, in intelligent appreciation of the questions involved and the interests at stake, and above all, in Christian sensibility, at once kindly and fervent, catholic and deep, it is incomparably superior to the best soldiers of Cromwell's army. The reciprocal feeling which binds our armies to our people, and our people to our armies, is another peculiarity of this time and this contest. Our soldiers are not foreign mercenaries, fighting for plunder or pay; not worthless adventurers, fighting for fame or power; not religious fanatics or partisan warriors, battling for a name or a man. But their hearts are still in their homes. The cherished images of their dear parents, their wives and children, are still before them. They are fighting with resolute and tenacious power, with generous and self-sacrificing valor.”

On the souls of such men the truths of the gospel rested with saving power. And even the most wicked and reckless among them were often readily impressed and easily led into the ways of virtue and religion.

“At the commencement of the war,” wrote an officer, “I organized a company of cavalry. My men were taken from all grades of society; the very great majority, however, were wicked and profane. I soon found that it would require very prompt action on my part if I wished to wield a moral influence over them. I had told them from the first that I should not permit gambling in their tents, and I would require them, when off duty on the Sabbath, to observe it as the Lord's day. When we had been out but a few months, one night, after I had gone to rest, I was aroused by one of my faithful boys (poor fellow, he afterwards fell a victim to the Yankees' bullet), who informed me that a number of my men, with others from another company, were gambling in one of the tents. At once I repaired to the place and caught them in the very act. I told them with some [23] warmth that they knew I was opposed to gambling, and that I was sorry to find so many of them doing that which I had forbidden; that I would not consent to command a set of blacklegs and blackguards; that they must look about for some other person to take charge of them, unless they would consent to burn those cards and promise me never again to engage in the game whilst members of my company. The leader, who was dealing the cards at the time, threw them down, remarking, ‘We want no other captain.’ The others assented. The cards were destroyed, their visitors left, and I never after caught them at cards or heard of their joining in this wicked practice.”

The armies of the South were homogeneous. There were but a few thousand foreigners at any time in the Confederate ranks. Hence, there was but little of that beastliness and brutality displayed which marked the foreign mercenaries in the opposing armies. Our forces were strictly native American, of the Southern type, and while they exhibited to a mournful extent the peculiar vices of their race, they also manifested the respect and reverence of their race for all the ordinances and institutions of religion. For, whatever may be thought or said of the Southern people through ignorance or prejudice, one thing is certainly true, that their religious sentiments are deep and strong. And another thing is equally true, that among them there have been fewer departures from the great cardinal doctrines of the Scriptures than among any other people in Christendom. The four or five leading Christian denominations which occupy the South have never been seriously disturbed by any of those false theories which, among other people, have drawn away thousands from the true faith.

Itinerant venders of the various isms of the age have found a poor market for their wares among the people of the South. Hence, among the subjects of the army revival there was not found a strange jumble of opinions [24] which had to be cleared from the mind before the simple truths of the gospel could have their full effect.

The heroic men on whom God shed forth his Holy Spirit so abundantly and gloriously are well described in the following extracts:

The Rev. James A. Duncan, D. D., draws this striking picture of the private soldier in the Confederate army:

If the private soldier be a true man, there is something of moral sublimity in his conduct that attracts our highest admiration. And yet how apt some people are to forget him. There is no star on his collar, no glittering ornament on his arm; but his plain gray jacket may enclose as noble a heart as ever throbbed in a human breast, or thrilled with patriotic devotion on the day of battle. In sleepless vigilance he paces his sentinel watch during the long hours and gloom of night, while the quiet stars shed their soft light on his musket, or the storm and rain beat pitilessly down on his shivering body and weary head. Look at him in battle at his gun, begrimed with powder, weary, hungry, almost exhausted, yet the fire gleams in his fearless eye as he rams home the charge, or sights his piece at the foe. “ Forward” is the command along the line, and you can see him as he brings his musket to a charge and dashes on to the very muzzles of the death-dealing guns to win the day or die in the attempt.

Kneel down by him, when, wounded and dying, he lies there on the field of victory while the life-blood flows from his heart. He speaks to you-but not a murmur, not a complaint escapes his lips — taking the locket from his neck and the Bible from his bosom, he tells you to give them to some dear one at home, and say that he died bravely for his country. Or, if he be not mortally wounded, accompany him to the hospital, and watch his fortitude and patience while in the hands of the surgeon. See how he suffers, and yet a General could not bear it better. [25]

The private soldier! His is the coarse fare, hard march, weary fight — the drudgery and the hardships are his!

There is something as inspiriting in his cheerfulness in the camp as there is grand in his heroism on the field. Now he is a house carpenter building him a shanty, then a dirt-dauber constructing a mud chimney. Now he is a cook frying “middling” on the coals and baking bread on a piece of bark set up before the fire. Now he is washer-man, and has stripped off his only shirt to have it done up, that he may enjoy a clean garment. In a word, he is a wonderful creature, that private soldier --he is cook, washer-woman, (?) carpenter, tent-maker, wagoner, pedestrian, clerk, butcher, baker, market huckster, groom, stable-boy, blacksmith, scout, anything and everything a man can or must be in camp, and then he wins a battle and gives the glory to his officer. We like him. His rich, ringing shout, and his merry, loud laugh, make music of a manly, stirring sort. His wit is as original as it is amusing. It is amusing to hear him, as his regiment passes through a town where hundreds of well-grown exempts stand on the side-walk, “Fall in, boys! now is your time-ain't going to fight soon?” Or to hear the mock sympathy with which he exclaims, “ Boys, ain't you almost big enough yet? Never mind, if you ain't but twenty-five years old, come along with big brother, he will take care of you.” On seeing a fellow dressed up in fine clothes, he cries out, “ Come out of them clothes; I see you, conscript; tain't worth while ahiding in them clothes.” Another will exclaim, “Here's your musket; I brought it ” specially “ for you; beautiful thing to tote; just fit your shoulder!”

He moves our sympathies perhaps yet more while we look at him alone in his tent, or by the camp-fire, holding in his hand the letter from home. We cannot decipher the sacred contents, but we are at no loss to know its effect upon the soldier as he folds up the precious [26] letter which the hand of affection has traced with words of love, fond remembrance, and anxious hopes, and brushes away the tear that has unbidden come in testimony of the memories that have been awakened.

And the following from the pen of Rev. R. H. Rivers, D. D., is not less eloquent and truthful:

The model Confederate soldier is a patriot. He loves his country with a deep and all-absorbing passion. He sees its broad acres desolated, its towns and cities sacked and burned, its noble women insulted and exiled, its venerable men driven from happy homes to pine in penury, its priests torn down from their pulpits and altars to languish in criminals' cells, its churches desecrated, and the very graves of his sires disturbed.

Yes, the Confederate soldier is a patriot; it is for this he wields the sword and shoulders the musket; it is for this he surrenders home, bids adieu to all its hallowed associations, and undergoes the hardships of the camp, the fatigues of the march, the privations of the soldier, and the perils of battle.

He is brave. He marches without fear to the brink of death. The booming of cannon, the shrill sound of rifle and musketry, the clash of arms, the smoke of battle, the groans of the wounded, and the fallen corpses of the dead, inspire him with no terror. Brave, but not reckless, he would stand, if need be, in the very front of the battle, facing danger and braving death. Such is true courage, and it is possessed in all its plenitude by the model soldier.

He is obedient to his superiors. Obedience is a high duty of the soldier. Accustomed almost from infancy to command, and altogether unused to much of the hard and servile labor which devolves upon him in the army, he feels that it is a high virtue now to obey. Disobedience would be ruinous to the cause; insubordination must bring defeat to our arms, and subjugation or extermination. [27] This he sees, and however hard the labor, however humiliating the work, however severe the task, however perilous the undertaking, he goes forward doing his duty, obeying orders, and exerting an influence as extensive as our armies and as potent, though quiet as “Heaven's first law.” A private in the ranks-his name unheralded, and his deeds, his noble deeds, unsung-he exerts an influence, by his cheerful obedience, as gentle as the dews of heaven, as pure as the alembic from which they are distilled, and as fragrant as the flowers on which they fall.

These are portraits from friendly hands. Let us look at two others drawn by those who were then ranked among our enemies.

The first is a picture by a Federal soldier of the “Pennsylvania Reserves,” who since the war has published a book entitled, “Our boys.” He is describing the conversations that often took place between the Northern and Southern soldiers during a brief armistice:

In one of those conversations that the soldiers of both armies so frequently took with the Potomac rolling between them, the following occurred:

“May we ask,” inquired the Federal soldier, “to what regiment you belong?”

“Thirteenth Virginia cavalry.”

“You are one of its officers?”

“Yes; I am Captain of Company C. My name is Andrew L. Pitzer.”

To repeat all the conversation that followed would be a task indeed. The war was talked of — the soldier's life was discussed. Jokes were perpetrated freely; but one little circumstance occurred during the conversation which made an impression on my mind that time can never efface. It was as follows:

One of our boys held up a pack of cards, and called out:

“ Do you know what this is?” [28]

Several other rebels had by this time joined the officer, who acted as spokesman, and continued to carry on the conversation.

“I cannot see what it is at this distance,” he replied.

“I'll tell you,” said the owner.

“What?”

“The history of the Four Kings,” was the significant reply.

“Oh! yes — that's — yes — I understand now. Cards, I believe.”

“ Yes.”

“May I show you the history I read?” asked the rebel.

“Yes, sir, if you please.”

Placing his hand to his breast, the rebel officer drew from a side-pocket the most blessed of all books, a small Bible. Ah! what a reproach! Not that it was meant as a reproach, for it was done with the innocence and simplicity of a child; but to witness such an exhibition of surperior morals in one upon whom we looked as being a rebel — an insurgent — was truly abasing. How I should like to know whether he is yet living. Many on our side, who came to the rocky brink and conversed with him on that day of armistice, have passed away forever.

I do not remember who the soldier was that exhibited the pack of cards to the rebel officer; but there is one thing I do remember, and that is, that he felt the reproof so sensibly, that, after standing for a moment gazing vacantly upon the cards as he held them in his hand, and listlessly twisting the corners, he threw them over the brink, and away they went sailing and fluttering as they slowly descended to the green waters many a fathom below.

The second picture is from Rev. Dr. Bellows, and was drawn by him at the Unitarian Convention which met in the city of New York in the midst of the war. He gave [29] his views of “Southern social life,” and the influences proceeding from it, thus:

No candid mind will deny the peculiar charm of Southern young men at College, or Southern young women in society. How far race and climate, independent of servile institutions, may have produced the Southern chivalric spirit and manner, I will not here consider. But one may as well deny the small feet and hands of that people, as deny a certain inbred habit of command; a contempt of life in defence of honor or class; a talent for political life, and an easy control of inferiors. Nor is this merely an external and flashy heroism. It is real. It showed itself in Congress early, and always by the courage, eloquence, skill and success with which it controlled majorities. It showed itself in the social life of Washington, by the grace, fascination and ease, the free and charming hospitality by which it governed society. It now shows itself in England and France, by the success with which it manages the courts and the circles of literature and fashion in both countries. It shows itself in this war, in the orders and proclamations of its generals, in the messages of the rebel Congress, and the essential good breeding and humanity (contrary to a diligently encouraged public impression) with which it not seldom divides its medical stores, and gives our sick and wounded as favorable care as it is able to extend to its own. It exceeds us at this moment in the possession of ambulance corps.

I think the war must have increased the respect felt by the North for the South. Its miraculous resources, the bravery of its troops, their patience under hardships, their unshrinking firmness in the desperate position they have assumed, the wonderful success with which they have extemporized manufactures and munitions of war, and kept themselves in relation with the world in spite of our magnificent blockade; the elasticity with which they have risen from defeat, and the courage they have [30] shown in threatening again and again our capital, and even our interior, cannot fail to extort an unwilling admiration and respect. Well is Gen. McClellan reported to have said (privately), as he watched their obstinate fighting at Antietam, and saw them retiring in perfect order in the midst of the most frightful carnage: “ What terrible neighbors these would be! We must conquer them, or they will conquer us!”