Taking courage, I made my way slowly toward the mill, where I found, on my arrival, the chaplain dismounted, coat off, and wisp in hand, rubbing and brushing every speck of mud from his horse. After performing this important duty, he then went to the nearest house, ordered supper, and after partaking of a warm meal, he returned to the mill. Oh how glad I was that all these preliminaries were gone through with, for now he would at once enter upon the care of the wounded, and my heart ached for those two sick boys, who were still attending to the wants of such as they could assist, notwithstanding they required waiting upon themselves.
The wounded were coming in faster than ever, and I was busy tearing up the cotton in strips, and trying to bind up some of the poor mangled limbs, the little sick sergeant being my right hand man. I looked around for the chaplain, but he was no where to be seen. I hobbled out to the building where I had seen him put his horse, to see if he had really gone away; no, he had not gone. There he lay on the floor, upon which was a quantity of hay, wrapped up in his blanket, apparently unconscious that there was any such thing as suffering in the world. Oh how I wanted to go to him, quietly lay my hand on him, and say: “Chaplain, will you be so kind as to take the saddle from my horse; it has been on since early morning, and I am not able to take it off.” Not that I cared particularly for having the saddle removed, but just for sake of having “Reb” bring the chaplain to his senses, and give him a little shaking up, so that he might realize that these were war times, and that consequently it was out of the question for chaplains in the army, especially in time of battle, to
Be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease;
While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas.
But instead of doing so, I sat down and wept bitter tears of disappointment and sorrow, and then, with a heavy heart and aching limbs, I returned again to the mill.
All that weary night my heart burned with indignation, and I seemed endowed with supernatural powers of endurance, for when morning came and found me still at my post, without having tasted food for twenty-four hours, I felt stronger and fresher than I had done the day before. My two young sick friends had been persuaded to lie down, and were now fast asleep, side by side with the wounded. But where was the chaplain? What had become of him? He had escaped with the earliest dawn, without so much as inquiring whether the men were dead or alive. This was the conduct of a man who professed to be a faithful follower of Him who went about doing good! This was a man whom I had reverenced and loved as a brother in Christ. Oh, what a stumbling-block that man was to my soul; for weeks and months Satan took occasion to make this a severe temptation and trial to me. I was tempted to judge every christian by that unholy example, and to doubt the truth of every christian experience which I heard related from time to time. But, thank God, I had the example of my faithful friend, Mr. B., to counterbalance this, and by God’s grace I was enabled to rise above this temptation. My doubts were gradually removed, and my faith in christians re-established—but I never sufficiently recovered from my feelings of disgust towards that particular chaplain, to ever again be able to persuade myself to listen to a sermon delivered by him, or to attend any religious meeting at which he presided. I always looked upon him afterwards, as “one who had stolen the livery of heaven to serve the devil in;” a mere whited sepulchre, and unworthy the sacred name of a minister of the Gospel.
Oh, may our sympathizing breasts
That generous pleasure know;
Kindly to share in others’ joy,
And weep for others’ woe.
When poor and helpless sons of grief
In deep distress are laid;
Soft be our hearts their pains to feel,
And swift our hands to aid.
On wings of love the Saviour flew,
To bless a ruined race;
We would, O Lord, thy steps pursue,
Thy bright example trace.
CHAPTER XIV.
RENEWAL OF THE BATTLE—VICTORY FOR THE FEDERAL ARMS—ADDRESS TO THE ARMY—MORE DESPATCHES—MY BATTLE TROPHY—PONY REB’S PERFORMANCES—THE HOSPITAL TREE—TOUCHING SCENES—BISHOP SIMPSON—THE CROSS AND THE FLAG—AFTER THE BATTLE—DELAYS BY STORMS, FLOODS AND MUD—MCCLELLAN’S CALL FOR MORE MEN—IN READINESS TO MARCH—PROMISED REINFORCEMENTS.
Night brought a cessation of hostilities to the weary troops, but to neither side a decided victory or defeat. Both armies bivouaced on the bloody field, within a few rods of each other. There they lay waiting for the morning light to decide the contest. The excitement and din of battle had ceased; those brief hours of darkness proved a sweet respite from the fierce struggle of the day, and in the holy calm of that midnight hour, when silence brooded over the blood-washed plain, many brave soldiers lay down on that gory field—