USA > Illinois > Military history and reminiscences of the Thirteenth regiment of Illinois volunteer infantry in the civil war in the United States,1861-65, pt 2 > Part 24
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While it is true that many professing Christians in the army became backsliders and profane infidels, yet it is also true that many maintained their religious character and man- fully witnessed for Jesus. A sergeant of Company B, while we were at Helena, was called before the commanding officer, and severely reprimanded for refusing to serve on a detail to do butchering on Sunday. The sergeant replied that any work of necessity he was willing to perform on Sunday ; but when the slaughtering could be done on a week day and was not done then, he did not propose to violate his conscience to suit the whim of any living man. When reminded that as a soldier he had promised to obey his superiors, he replied that he willingly gave his life and all its possibilities for his coun- try, but his conscience was a matter between him and his God, and no power on earth could make him outrage its prompt- ings.
The officer commended him for his religious zeal and con- sistency, and expressed a hope that some day he himself would be as true to conscience as this faithful subaltern. The ser- 'geant, encouraged by this remark, began preaching the gospel to this officer and urged him to come to Christ now ; but the promise that he would be a Christian when he got out of the war, was the only promise he would give. At the battle of Chickasaw Bayou I was approaching this officer when he was
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shot while in an act of needless exposure, having defied the enemy with a bitter execration on his lips.
THUS FELL ONE OF THE BRAVEST OFFICERS
that ever drew a sword or gave a command. Faithfully warned by the sergeant, a few days before, let us hope that in the period between wound and death, the warning availed.
While still at Helena, a circumstance entirely different . from that of the " Wandering Jew," or of the faithful sergeant occurred which will serve to illustrate the strange vicissitudes in the experience of an army chaplain. A member of my company had died of intemperance, and a detail of two men to dig a grave was sent up to the hill west of the camp on which was a temporary cemetery used by the troops camping
on the north of town. After an absence long enough to have completed their task, these men returned and reported to the orderly-sergeant that the grave was ready ; also stating that the Fourth Iowa had a funeral at the same hour, and that in- asmuch as our camp was nearer to the cemetery and there was only a narrow path leading to it, could we not have ours a half-hour earlier, and avoid the embarrassment of two funerals in a narrow path, and ceremonies interferring one with the other. The request being reasonable, our officers assented, to the arrangement, and the short "Fall in Company D," was heard a half hour earlier than announced in the morning. I had been notified at the last moment that I must officiate as chaplain, in the absence of that officer, and accordingly I pre- pared myself for the duty. In the interim of preparation for the funeral, I had been made suspicious by the grave-digging detail calling on me and urging me to have a very short ser- vice. My suspicions were too vague to lead to any definite action. The ceremony was exceedingly short, the grave was filled, the funeral salute was fired, and we were about to file out of the cemetery when the Fourth Iowa funeral appeared on the scene. We halted till they passed in, and then immediately passed out. As we were descending the hill to the notes of
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a lively tune, we heard some one shout to us from the ceme- tery, €
"SAY ! YOU OLD THIEVING THIREENTH, WHERE IS OUR GRAVE ? "
The question seemed so ridiculous to many of us, that we smiled and passed on. When back in camp we learned that our detail on going to the cemetery in the morning and find- ing the Fourth Iowa men digging a grave conceived the idea of stealing it, and their report of a request for an earlier fu- neral was only to make their plan the more successful. Strange as it may appear, the "Thirteenth," who were strongly attached to the Fourth Iowa, had actually stolen a grave from their dearest friends.
From Helena, Ark., we frequently crossed the river to go on cotton raids into the State of Mississippi, While on one of these raids we camped on Colonel Carnes' plantation. Among the slaves was a colored local preacher whom one of the scape-graces of Company D induced to come to our camp and preach for us. Uncle Alfred, for such was his name, came accompanied by another sable exhorter. A hard-tack box was set upon end, and a blanket thrown over it for a pul- pit stand, while a similar box was laid upon its side and a blanket thrown over it for a sofa. On this sofa Uncle Alfred and his companion sat waiting for the congregation to gather. Spreading their blankets on the ground, the soldiers squatted or lay down in luxurious idleness, "waiting for the show to begin," as they styled this religious meeting. At a signal from the party who had invited him, our sable brother and his companion arose, and sang a wierd .negro melody ; his companion followed him with a vociferous prayer, and then Uncle Alfred delivered one of the most grotesque sermons I ever heard.
All through the discourse he was interrupted with mock shouts of "glory !" "hallelujah !" "amen !" and other ex- clamations of praise or approval. True to his Methodist in-
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stincts, the backslider scapegrace who had invited the preacher, passed the hat for a collection, and then gave its contents to him. In this collection there were some pieces of paper currency, and an indescribable lot of just such knick- knacks as are found in a soldier's pocket, such as pieces of plug-tabacco, scalloped with teeth-marks, buttons of every size and shape, bullets whittled into fantastic shapes, purcus- sion caps, and an occasional card from a badly worn deck. In the afternoon I determined to find Alfred, and assure him that all the soldiers were not disposed to make light of relig- ion. I found him quite communicative, and anxious to have a theological problem solved. He informed me that in his youth he belonged to a Virginia planter ; that when he be- came a man he married, and in the course of time he had quite a large family, and that when his master died, the plan- tation was sold and the chattels were divided among the heirs. His wife was taken into Georgia, and he into Mississippi. For two years he kept track of his wife, and then lost all traces of her. Finally lie concluded to marry . again, his second wife being a slave on the same plantation.
NOW AROSE A THEOLOGICAL MUDDLE.
He had heard read, but not explained, the quibble of the Sadducee marrying the woman who had married seven hus- bands. His first wife was a good woman, and he thought if dead, had gone to heaven ; his second he expected would go to the same place, and he had a longing desire for the same blessed abode. "Now," said he, " dere is a passage of Scrip- tor what reads like dis-" dere was a woman what had seven husbands, and in de kingdom of Heben, whose wife she gwine to be ? "
Looking at me for a moment to see if I understood him, and perceiving the nod with which I assented, he continued. "Now when I comes up into Heben, and my fust wife comes to me and says, 'my husban' Alfred I'se so glad to see you,' den my second wife '11 say 'No it taint your husban' he's mine,' 'dere'll be a purty row right afore de Lord Jesus."
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Here his face assumed the shape and hue of despair. Very soon I comforted him, by showing that the words he had quoted, were simply a quibble of unbelieving Sadducees, and that Jesus said that there was neither marrying nor giving in marriage in Heaven, and these relations could by no means interfere with the happiness of the heavenly world. His joy knew no bounds, and we were at once fast friends.
As showing the kindliness of Union soldiers, I will relate an incident which occurred while we were camping for a night on the banks of Caclie Bayou. Just before dark, some of our religious comrades reported to me, that there was a sick, and they thought, dying Confederate soldier in a hut with his family not far from the camp ; I started at once to see him, and found that he was in mortal dread that we would take him away from his family as a prisoner of war. Assuring him that he would not be disturbed in his sickness, I began to talk to him about his soul's welfare, and while praying with him, the comrades came laden down with provisions they had brought from their meager store of rations. The tearful gratitude of the recipi- ents was abundant compensation for the short rations we endured for several days following.
On another occasion, two weeping children watching our regiment as it passed by, were asked the cause of their grief. They said the guerrillas had taken all they had to eat, and they feared we would do worse. When asked where their father was, they tremblingly said he was in the confederate army. The regiment camping near by, some comrades went to the house and found things as the children had said. Before dark that night the family was rejoicing in one week's rations brought from the meager supply of these generous soldiers.
In one of the companies of our regiment, was a young man whose demure manners, and strange gesticulations, when alone, had impressed those about him, that either he was the victim of remorse, or that he was on the verge of insanity. One day while holding a Bible class and prayer-meeting in the woods, this young man, attracted by the Sunday-school hymns we were singing, came into our meeting and said with tearful
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eyes, "Oh ! I would give all the world, if I could be as inno- cent as I was when I used to sing those Sunday-school hymns." He continued to attend our meetings and was hap- pily converted. When the call was made for veterans to re-en- list, and a furlough of thirty days, and a bounty of one hundred dollars promised, he came to me for advice. He told me his this story.
" When I was in my teens, I quarreled with my brother in the wood-shed back of our house. I was frantic with rage, and struck my brother over the head with a heavy stick of fire-wood.
" He fell lifeless at my feet. The thought flashed upon me ' I am a murderer.' Alarmed, I fled from home, going night and day till I thought I was far enough not to be known. I could stay nowhere, on and on I kept moving till at last I reached Chicago. Years had passed since the event, and tliere in Chicago I saw my father and mother on the other side of the street. I wanted to go and make myself known, but the thought that I had murdered my brother made me hesitate. My parents had passed along and turned a corner. I still hesitated, and when I started to find them they were gone, and I never saw them after, for years.
" Wretched beyond description, I enlisted, hoping that in some battle I might come to the end of this dreary life. After my conversion I felt a strong desire to find my parents ; and now, after long search, I have found where they are. My mother is old and feeble, and I fear that if I wait till my time is out, I will never see her. If I enlist, I get the furlough at once and also the bounty ; what would you do?" I advised him to re-enlist ; he did so.
He went home, found his father and mother alive, and also
THE BROTHER WHOM HE THOUGHT HE HAD KILLED.
But the great scar on the side of his head and face told how near that brother had been brought to death.
The reconciliation was complete, a saddened family were
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made to rejoice, and the grace of God as manifest in the prayer-meeting of the Thirteenth Illinois had brought a wan- derer home, and a stricken soul to Christ.
Our western troops were fortunate, I think, in each regi- ment being allowed to organize its own litter corps. Ours was composed of the fifer and drummer of each company, and these felt a special interest in the wounded of their own company. Some of the eastern troops had litter corps for whole brigades composed of special details who had no particular interest in any regiment or company. Ours, feeling a comrade's interest in every man that fell in the regiment, were always the first on the ground, and I believe more were saved from bleeding to death on the field from our regiment than from any other engaged in the same battles.
During the period of my chaplaincy I had charge of the litter corps, and found them brave and self-sacrificing to a fault.
As chaplain of a fighting regiment that
NEVER ENTERED A BATTLE THAT IT DID NOT STAY THE LAST ON THE FIELD,
I had a fine opportunity of observing the following phenom- ena of mind, or ministration of the Divine Spirit. The night previous to the battle of Ringgold Gap, I was riding in the rear of the regiment, with the major on one side and an aged captain on the other. The latter, looking toward the setting sun, and directing his talk to me said, " Chaplain, I never look upon a setting sun of late, but I am reminded that my day of life will soon be done, and oh ! what an unworthy creature I feel myself to be." I urged upon him his religious duties. He turned to me and in an oracular voice said, " Chaplain, I am impressed that the next will be my last battle ; I will never live to get out of the service."
I tried to encourage him to hope that lie might live ; but urged him to be ready in any event. Just then the Major broke into the conversation, and, addressing himself to the
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venerable Captain, said : " I, too, feel impressed that the next battle is to be my last." I offered a silent prayer, asking for wisdom, and spoke to those men with as much fervor and skill as I could command. The Major fell the next day with a bullet through the center of his brow, the Captain's leg was shattered with grape, and upon the stump of that leg he raised himself up and fired the guns of the dead soldiers about him.
The Captain sent for me while I was directing the litter corps just as the battle closed. I found him in the house in the mouth of the Gap near which he fell ; the wounded were about him everywhere, and blood lay in puddles on the floor. As soon as I entered the door the Captain stretched forth his hands to me and said : " I told you it would be so, but I did my duty to the last." I asked him as to his spiritual welfare, and the Captain said : "I have been a terrible backslider, but God has been merciful to me ; I would not give, for worlds on worlds, the peace I now have. I lingered around the Cap- tain's bed at Chattanooga, whither he had been taken on the shoulders of his own men, and was present when he died.
That morning Captain, afterwards Major Beardsley, who was in the same ward, seeing the ominous tokens of mortifica- cation-said to the dying man, "if you have any business to transact you had better do it at once." Seating myself beside the dying Captain aided by Captain Beardsley-who was a lawyer-I wrote out the will of the dying Captain Blanchard. When the will was complete I read it to him. He nodded assent, for his tongue was already paralyzed ; I gave him the pen with which to write his signature, a circular mark was all he could make.
I ASKED HIM IF I SHOULD PRAY.
He grasped my hand as best he could, and nodded asssent. As I prayed he pressed my hand when I mentioned his family. or referred to his own spiritual interests. When I rose to speak to him, his hand was set in death, and he was gone beyond the noise and tumult of war. With some difficulty I withdrew my hand from his and we stretched out the mutilated
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body, and the hero of company K was ready for the rest of the grave. Our eyes were dim and we turned to look out of the window, and there stood Lookout Mountain scarred and silent with the somber clouds of November lurking near and casting saddening shadows o'er its front.
In the cases of both the Major and the Captain, were clear premonitions of coming death, and may we not say the promptings of the spirit that they might be prepared ?
On the morning of the battle of Ringgold Gap, Jimmy McCollum, of company C, and sergeant Robert Skinner, of company E., both of whom had been with me in prison, came to me and said. independent of each other, that this was to be their last battle. Both said they would like to have lived to see the war over, and peace established in the land, but they were resigned to whatever was God's will. That evening I found Jimmy lying on the floor of a vacant store, near to the surgeon's table where amputations were being made. The wounded were all around him. He had been ex- amined by the surgeons sufficient to convince them that nothing could be done for him. I attempted to speak to Jimmy but broke down. I loved him as Jonathan loved David. He had been one of the most patient and heroic during our three months' imprisonment in Vicksburg and Jackson, Miss. I attempted to sing Jimmy's favorite hymn, the one he always sang at prayer-meeting-
"Come sing to me of heaven, When I'm about to die ; Sing songs of holy ecstacy To waft my soul on high,"-
but the song was never finished. We mingled our tears, and amid my sobs I asked Jimmy if it were well with his soul ? He replied, " Oh ! God is so good. He has received me in Christ." He then went on to state that he wished he could have seen his mother before he passed away : but he was resigned to God's will. He died the next day-I think- in a flat car on his way to Chattanooga, and was buried in his
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blanket on the banks of Chicamauga Creek. The head of a hard-tack box was his head board, and there sleeps the brav- est of the brave. Robert Skinner was among the killed. His patience in prison and his heroism in battle, made him the envy of all who desired a good name.
A country that has such men to give for its defense,
CAN NEVER FAIL IN WAR OR DECLINE IN PEACE.
I conclude this chapter with a narration of the experience of some of the Thirteenth in the prisons of Vicksburg and Jackson, Miss. I record it with pride, that three of us who were captured at Chickasaw Bayou, fell into the enemy's hands because obeying the first order to "Charge," and not hearing the counter-order, "Retreat ; " we pressed forward through the dense smoke of the enemy's artillery, till beyond the reach of support. Surrounded by the enemy, the few of us who were left alive had no alternative but to surrender singly or in small squads to a triumphant enemy, before and behind. There were about three hundred men captured on that field, many of them being wounded. Our band of pris- oners was composed of men from the Sixteenth Ohio, a Mis- souri regiment, a Kentucky regiment, and the majority from the Thirteenth Illinois. After three months' imprisonment, our band of three hundred was reduced by starvation, sickness and exposure to less than eighty. A portion of the Thirteenth men composed a mess, which they called the " Aubrey Mess," in commemoration of the battle in which they were captured, Aubrey being the name the enemy gave to that engagement. while our people called it Chickasaw Bayou. The latter name we never heard until after our imprisonment.
In this mess were some young men of literary talent, and of musical culture. These formed what they called a literary club and circulating library ; and yet there was not a book among them save an occasional New Testament. In the evening hours this literary club would meet, and one of their number, according to his turn, would recite all hie could
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remember of some book he had read in his past life. Then others who had read the book would add what they could remember that had not been mentioned by the others. Some- times the merits of the writer and others matters of criticism would follow, and in this way their minds were kept from brooding over their present condition. Thus these active and inventive minds were enjoying all the privileges of a circu- lating library and literary club. This society appointed two of its number, each to compose a song recounting the facts concerning the battle whose issue had brought them to a prisoner's fate. The club was to choose which of the songs should be its mess song. A music teacher among them was appointed to compose the music. Paper was exceedingly scarce in Vicksburg at this time. The Memphis Appeal was printed on wall-paper. Letter paper was worth fifty cents a sheet. We were without money, but by trading off trinkets we managed to get enough on which to write the music and the songs.
Of the songs composed, the following was chosen because the jingle could better be adapted to music. I am inclined to think the literary merit of the other was superior, though its meter was defective. The chosen song was written by a member of Company D of the Thirteenth. To appreciate its wording it is necessary to recall the facts that Blair's Brigade was chosen as the forlorn hope, and ordered late Sunday night, December 28, 1862, to take its position under cover of the darkness as near to the enemys' line as possible. When in this position they were to come quietly to a " rear-open- order," "ground-arms," and lay down in line until morning. All night long a signal gun was fired at regular intervals, from one of our heavy batteries ; at the dawn it was to cease for a specified time, and when the fire was resumed it was to be the signal of " attention."
We were to come to a close order and prepare at once to charge. Between us and the enemy was that sloughi or morass known as Chickasaw Bayou ; through this we must pass, and charging up the opposite bank must drive the
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enemy from his rifle-pits. We were in the edge of the woods east of the Bayou, and from these woods we emerged with a shout. I give the poem as it was adopted ; and leave our comrades to judge as to its faithfulness of description. Its title is-
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"AUBREY'S BLOODY CHARGE."
When Aubrey's works we boldly stormed, Ah ! little thought had we, That battle-lines so closely formed, So soon should scattered be. Each man arose from off the ground, Where sleep at night liad we ; All anxious for the startling sound, That should our signal be.
CHO .- Then weep not friends at home, Your sons so freely given, Their work on earth is done, They swell the host in heaven.
The extended line all silent stood, And trembling hands were there ; The hush proclaimed " Here terrors brood," Yet blanched no cheek with fear. As when some sudden, dreadful sound. Disturbs the midnight air, So came the order ; then the bound Of heroes, gone, oh ! where ?- CHO.
Like lightening from the brooding cloud That ope's the pelting shower, Our bayonets flashed from out the wood, A blaze of fearful power : On, sweeping through the willow swamp O'er yielding mud and sand, The serried line in gleaming pomp Surged on the firmer land .- CHO.
The bank was reached-a resting place- A wearied host we were, While shot and shell, flew on apace, In horrid frantic whirr ;
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No time is lost ; but up the bank, The eager columns bound ; And scarce they mount, ere every rank Is thinned by death and wound .- CHO.
Proud stars and stripes are onward borne- Brave hearts the emblems wave- Till every stripe by grape is torn, Then falls to shroud the brave. Oh ! tell me not, that heroes past Could better stand the test,
Of rifles whang, or cannons blast, Than scions of the West .- CHO.
A surging wave we swept the plain Upon that awful day ; But ere the banks of slaughter gain, The wave is lost in spray.
"Surrender," rang upon the air- The dead bestrewed the field-
The foe unseen had gained the rear, And we alas ! must yield .- CHO.
A meager few within their works We're hurried by the foe ; Ta'en far beyond, this danger lurks, To feel the prisoner's woe. Oh, "Vicksburg Jail !" if walls had tongues And thine could tell their tale, Each ear would ache to hear of wrongs Endured within thy pale .- CHO.
Having plenty of time to sing, we did not complain of the length of our song. This and other songs we frequently sung for the colored body servant of the jailor, as a compensation for the remnant of the meal his master left on his plate. Our meat was from the Texan cattle that had died of starvation in the city, being unable to eat the hard dry corn that had been given them. That which had been fat in these unfortunate creatures, had turned into a bluish gelatine substance that spread over all the meat when boiled like mucilage, and was quite adhesive. At first we discarded the meat, but semi- starvation soon gave us an appetite of unscrupulous voracity.
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The corn pone issued to us twice a day, was meal in which the cob was ground up with the corn. The cathartic effects of this combination was truly alarming. The more thoughtful corrected these tendencies by oak-bark tea, and such astring- ents as we in our poverty and ingenuity, could devise. We had occasional religious services, but the effort to obtain quiet seemed only to aggravate those who were not favorable to such exercises.
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