James Sherman Kimball

by James William Kimball

How he performed his duties, both at Louisville and at Nashville, in barracks, hospitals, prisons, and on the field, will best be told in the words of his associates.

Says one: “He was the youngest delegate we ever had in Louisville; and we found our hearts going out to him as to a younger brother. We liked his original ways. There was something so fresh and childlike about him,—a simplicity both rare and admirable in a young man. His kindness to all was unbounded; but when a soldier came to our rooms, he would start up quickly, and wait upon him as politely as though he were a king. He made the soldiers feel at home, assuring them that we all considered it a privilege to wait upon our brave defenders. Nov. 6, Sunday, I accompanied him to the ‘Taylor Barracks.’ He read Isaiah liii.; dwelling on the third and fourth verses, and repeating many times, ‘Surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.’ In imagination I can see him now, standing before those colored soldiers, reading each word so distinctly, so understandingly, and they listening so attentively, drinking in every word, and looking so thankful for assurances of home and heaven. He sought to impress upon them the necessity of being prepared; to make them realize that God, though invisible, was near, and willing to receive them. He urged them to be zealous for Christ, because life was uncertain. He was very earnest; the color came and went in his cheeks; and his ‘my friends’ to those boys and men can never be forgotten.” Says another: “I shall never forget that sermon. I was touched with his remark upon ‘His visage was so marred.’ He did not think it taught that Christ’s appearance was repulsive; but simply that it was wan, and wasted with his many cares and ceaseless labors. One night there was a crowd. Mr. K. despaired of full attention because he could not be seen. He looked about for an elevation. He mounted a pile of boxes, and called for ‘Rally Round the Flag, Boys.’ This secured them, and he kept their attention to the end.”

“From my first acquaintance,” says an Episcopal clergyman, “I was unusually well pleased with him. His frankness, cordiality, intelligence, above all, his devotion to the Christian work he had come so far to do, won the esteem of all, and even excited remark from many. His heart was full of that best of Christian graces, charity. On Friday evening, Dec. 9, he said to me, ‘Let us call on our friends at Hospital 14; but half-past seven will be time enough for that, and meanwhile I’ll have a short service down in the barracks: I have not done enough to-day;’ this, though I knew he had spent the whole day in ‘the front.’ The barracks is a large, unfinished hotel, the property of the rebel Gen. Zollicoffer, with no sash in the window frames. This, of course, makes it at best a very uncomfortable place for men to live in. There are generally between one thousand and four thousand soldiers here in transit between the front and the North. James, more frequently than any other delegate, visited this place in the evening, to have services. He frequently spoke of the pleasure this gave him. We were each in turn appointed to this duty; but James again and again went, whether specially assigned or not. On Saturday, the 10th, he went. He found there a sick soldier without a blanket, compelled to pass the night in a room which was open to the chilling and wintry winds. James felt well, and believed that the short walk home in the cold would not harm him as much as a long night’s exposure would the needy soldier, and at once gave the poor fellow his shawl. Sunday the 11th came, and feeling still well, he passed the day among the cavalry, several miles distant from our home, returning quite late. It was not until Monday the 12th that he seemed indisposed. He kept to the sofa most of the day, and had one or two chills. It was not until Tuesday the 13th that his symptoms revealed the fearful congestive chill. He would often spend an hour after the labors of the day in my room talking over what had been said and done. When he met with earnest and anxious, but not well-established men, his custom was to insert written pledges, signed by both, usually, in their Testaments, ‘to be unceasing in their endeavors to live so as to meet in heaven.’ The Bible was constantly in his hand when in-doors, before leaving in the morning, and after the duties of the day. He loved it; and his conscientious discharge of all his duties proved to all that he endeavored to live up to its precepts. On that Friday evening after his services in the barracks, as we walked toward Hospital 14, he spoke of the interesting meeting he had just had, and added, ‘Though the sermon my congregation got was a poor one, it had one good quality,—it was full of the Bible. I always try to introduce plenty of that good book, that those who will not read its pages may hear.’

“James was talented above most others. Had he lived he would have been a successful laborer in the vineyard. His efforts were very successful, as long as he was spared, in the work of the Christian Commission. Let us be mindful of David’s consolation: ‘I shall go to him.’ Pardon me: I write as I feel; for I feel that I too need this comfort. In the death of this noble young man I have lost a friend—one whose example has benefited me, and whose warm spirit has enlisted my deepest regards.”

Says another clergyman: “On the 10th of December, James and one of the delegates went out of Nashville, on the left, in the front of our cavalry force, where he held a service in the open air. He took off his hat. The day was cold. The cold, as he afterwards said, affected his head. On Sunday, Dec. 11th, he attended the Cumberland Hospital, and preached a most excellent and edifying discourse. His soul seemed to be entirely absorbed in the spiritual and eternal welfare of the sick and wounded soldiers. On Monday he had chills and fever. On Tuesday I nursed him most of the day, applying mustard draughts to his breasts, arms, feet, ankles, etc., as the doctor ordered; bathing his feet in hot water, and rubbing him all over to excite perspiration; but all in vain. He was delirious in the afternoon. On Wednesday he knew and named all the delegates as they came to his bed, and saluted them with, ‘God bless you.’ During the 15th he was delirious all the time, preaching, praying, and distributing things to the soldiers. It was very touching to hear him in his wanderings pray for the soldiers, and then ask some one at his bedside to pronounce the benediction. When I gave him medicines, he would always say, ‘Thank you, thank you, sir.’ He did not suffer much pain; and as the end drew near he became more calm, and died quietly, peacefully, triumphantly; and we have no doubt that he will rise in the first resurrection. Of this you may rest satisfied: ‘Death loves a shining mark;’ and such talents, so early and so fully developed, seldom ever bloom long on this earthly soil. They are matured for the shining ‘shores of eternal joys.’”

A chaplain of the Illinois cavalry writes from Nashville: “He seemed to have but one desire, and that was to do good to his fellow-men, and be instrumental in saving souls; and the question was in what sphere he could best accomplish this? He had had an offer of a lieutenancy in one of the regiments, and sometimes felt like accepting it; and would, if he could believe that he would be as useful to his company as a Christian, but feared that he might not be as useful to the soldiers as he could now be in the Christian Commission.”

“His great interest in his work was revealed in his delirium: all the powers of his mind were enlisted in expostulating, warning, inviting, and urging sinners to come to Christ. He told them of Christ’s wonderful compassion, his sufferings for them, and his intercessions with the Father. 1 Timothy i. 15, ‘This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,’ was one of the texts from which, with great clearness and directness, he addressed his supposed audience more frequently than from any other. He would begin with the fact that all are sinners by nature and by practice; then point out the wickedness of men in rejecting their truest interest, and in violating God’s commandment; show their lost and ruined condition; closing with the encouraging truth in the text, that Christ came to save sinners. Here he would take up the sufferings of Christ for sinners, and especially for those he imagined to be present; invariably inquiring, ‘Now won’t you accept Christ, who has done so much for you?’

“Another text from which he addressed his supposed audience, was Mark ii. 9: ‘Arise, take up thy bed and walk.’ On this he would begin: ‘My friends, we are taught in the Bible that our Saviour did good to the bodies of men as well as to their souls; and it is our duty to labor as he did.’

“Truly you have reason to bless God for the grace so largely bestowed on your dear son, inclining him thus to labor with all his soul for the salvation of men, and especially for soldiers, whether in the hospital or in the camp. The soldiers who formed his acquaintance esteemed him highly, as did all who knew him; the delegates of the Christian Commission, and the chaplains of the army.”

Says another: “I met yesterday a rebel soldier who had been sick in our barracks; one to whom Mr. K. had taken tea, bread, etc., etc. (often saving his own for them), and told him Mr. K. had gone home to the better land of which he had told him. The tears gushed forth, and he said, ‘Has he gone? Will I never see him more? Oh! you fight us like demons, and when we are sick and prisoners, you treat us like angels.’ I told him all about his sickness, and how in his delirium he was striving to save soldiers; and that we felt that he was now with God. He replied, ‘With God’s help, I will meet him there.’”