Captain Vicars did not like outward forms of religion. He would say, “Away with all formality,—give me Christ or else I die.” In writing to his mother, his darling mother, he said, “How lonely I feel when Jesus withdraws Himself from me and leaves me for a time to myself, but those blessed words in Isaiah have restored happiness to my soul, “For a small moment I have forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee.” He had only been in the Crimea a little over a month, when he was providentially saved from an untimely end. A number of Officers, in order to keep their tents a little warm, had charcoal burnt in them; three Officers had been found dead in their tents from the effects of the fumes, and another was hanging between life and death; that other was Captain Hedley Vicars, who had returned to his cold tent chilled and weary, after a wild and snowy night in the trenches. Before throwing himself on his bed of leaves and stones, he told his servant, as it was intensely cold, to make a small fire of charcoal in a dish, and to leave the door of the tent partly open, but it nearly cost him his life. He was for duty that night again, and his faithful servant several times vainly endeavoured to awaken him, and at last became alarmed and went for the surgeon. He found him returning from the tent of another of the 97th, for whom, alas, his aid had come too late. Our hero was carried into the open and laid upon the snow; his men stood around, wringing their hands, but, at length, after blistering and bleeding, he was restored to consciousness; he was spared for a nobler end, to fulfil his own choice, “As a soldier I will die.” In one of his letters is the following:—“In the trenches, the other day, one of our men amused us much. At the first shell which passed close to him he dropped down on his back screaming aloud for a doctor, for he was ‘Kilt entirely;’ the doctor ran up to him and asked him where he had been hit, when he exclaimed, ‘Och, och, doctor; clean through the blanket.’” In another, “This afternoon, whilst speaking to our poor fellows in the Cholera Hospital, who were lying cold and comfortless on the bare ground, rays of sunshine seemed to illumine that charnel tent as I brought the crucified Saviour before those men, for tears glistened in many an eye, and the smile of hope and peace was on many a lip. I feel it to be indeed a pleasure and a privilege to talk to my sick comrades and fellow-sinners of Jesus, and I am sure that they who never visit the suffering and dying deprive themselves of the deepest happiness this life affords. It is painful, often heart-rending, to witness agony we cannot alleviate; to see the distorted face and hear the cry of anguish of friends and comrades.” Again, “We are expecting every day to meet the enemy in open field, or to storm this fortress. I wish they would let us go at it at once. Be not anxious about me, I am safe in the arms of my Saviour; I feel it, I know it, in life or in death.” He might often be heard singing—
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Am I a soldier of the cross, A follower of the Lamb, And shall I fear to own His cause, Or blush to speak his name? |
Also the following—
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Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah, Pilgrim through this barren land, I am weak, but Thou art mighty, Hold me with Thy powerful hand. Bread of heaven, Feed me till I want no more. |
And again he would burst forth—
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Soldiers of Christ, arise, And put your armour on, Strong in the strength that God supplies, Through His eternal Son. From strength to strength go on, Wrestle, and fight, and pray, Tread all the powers of darkness down, And win the well-fought day. |
On the 16th and 17th December he writes “I have only returned about half an hour from the trenches, the rain poured in torrents all night; we turned out in the midst of it, 3 officers and 200 men, and started for the rendezvous, previous to marching off to the trenches; we had to ford two mountain torrents, which damped our feet and legs, if not our ardour; we moved on, tumbling in the mud at every step; we found the trenches in parts knee-deep in mud, through which we plodded; a spent bullet struck me in the left side, but did no harm, thank God. I offered up a short prayer of gratitude and praise to my Heavenly Father, who had thus preserved me; we lined the trench without any casualties, but the weather was so bleak and cold, that we were obliged to walk about to keep ourselves warm, regardless of the bullets which kept flying about our ears like bees. A Marine was mortally hit in the breast soon after, he died in less than half an hour. One of my men was walking up and down close to the rampart, when a ball hit him behind the ear; he fell on his side and died without a groan. What and where were thy last thoughts, as death met thee in that short walk? The miseries of the winter before Sebastopol will not easily be forgotten. The men who stormed the heights of Alma, who in the dreadful fight of Inkermann conquered again amidst fogs and darkness; of whom a mere handful at Balaclava were seen charging an army, while all the world wondered; such men had proved their steel, yet there is a limit to human endurance, and men of this mould have been seen to weep. As on night after night, succeeding days of starvation and toil, they were ordered to their work in the freezing trenches, who can estimate the exhausting misery?” But here again he breaks forth “Shame on those officers who are resigning their commissions, and deserting their country now in her hour of peril; a thousand deaths before dishonour; let us not hesitate to bear the cross daily. Think of Him who bore the cross for us. He was tempted in all points like as we are, although without sin; the glory of our religion is salvation through the blood of Jesus.” In another “Yesterday I read with great comfort the third of Colossians. In the advanced work (that’s next the enemy) I find Jesus more and more precious to my soul.” Another “My own darling Mother, the long expected box has at length arrived, and its contents are now safely stowed away in my tent; and as the various proofs of loving remembrances from you, dearest Mother, and from darling Clara, Mary, Georgie, and the children, met my eyes, I was so much affected that I nearly cried; may the Lord give me courage to speak faithfully and earnestly.” In writing to one of his sisters, our hero penned the following:—“Oh! dearest Mary, it is well to have the love of Jesus Christ in its reality in our hearts; what solid peace and rich enjoyment we obtain in ‘looking unto Jesus.’ Where else should we behold the boundless love of our Heavenly Father? What else could have led me to the side of men dying of pestilence, for how could I have spoken to these poor suffering creatures, of the love of God, but by ‘looking unto Jesus’; and to whom could I implore them to look, but to that precious Lamb? Baptismal regeneration, Church Privileges, the Sacramental system, Confession, and Priestly Absolution, may do for some people when in health, but no smile of joy from the sick man, I believe, would ever be the fruit of such miserable comforters in the last hour. When a dying man can say or feel ‘I know that my Redeemer liveth,’ he wants no more; he can then sing with all his heart—
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‘Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly.’” |
We now come to the closing scene. He wrote in his last letter “The greater part of another month is past, and here I am, still kept by the protecting arm of the Almighty from all harm. I have been in many a danger by night and day, since I last wrote to you my own beloved, but the Lord has delivered me from them all, but not only so, but he has likewise kept me in perfect peace, and made me glad with the light of His countenance. In Jesus I find all I want of happiness or enjoyment, and as week after week, and month after month roll by, I believe He is becoming more and more lovely in my eyes, and precious to my soul.” He also said “I read Isaiah xli, and Cay[36] prayed; we walked together during the day, and exchanged our thoughts about Jesus.”
Thus, the last word he ever wrote was the name he loved best. Twenty-four hours later, and his eyes had seen “the King in his beauty.”