Elijah Kellogg at Forty-three.
1856.
But war came, and it found the Mariners’ Church patriotic to the very core. Mr. Kellogg had to report that sixty-eight of his“body-guard” had enlisted to fight for the preservation of the Union, sixteen of them teachers in the Sunday-school. In 1864, in his address before the society, he said: “At the beginning of the war there were connected with the Mariners’ Church a body of young men, landsmen, who were deeply interested in the conversion of sailors and enjoyed their confidence and affection. They, with a single exception, entered the army. Poor and without patronage, they enlisted as privates. Five of them have been promoted.”
Those connected with the Mariners’ Church when the war opened will never forget the stirring scenes in the church meetings or the eloquent words of patriotism and faith with which the pastor bade his “boys” Godspeed as they went forth into the great struggle. One Sunday evening in April, 1861, he spoke feelingly of the impending crisis. He was so prophetic, outlining so accurately what afterward proved to be the extent and course of the secession movement, that many of his hearers have since thought him to have been almost inspired. When he had finished, he requested three of his “boys” who had enlisted, one of whom had that very day been admitted to the church, to step to the desk. Then, amid a scene such as is rarely witnessed in a sacred edifice, he talked to them personally, while the large audience showed great sympathy and the liveliest interest. When the enthusiasm had reached its highest pitch, he drew from under his desk three revolvers and passed them to the young men, bidding them go forth in the name of God, in a cause which he declared to be as holy as any that ever a people contended for. In 1865, referring feelingly to the services of these young men in the field, he said: “They departed with the prayers and good wishes of the congregation. One of them, but nineteen years old, fell at Gettysburg; another,[2] having been twice severely wounded, has returned with honor, and the third, having received three wounds, and led his company at the storming of Fort Fisher, still remains a captain in the service.”
[2] Readers will be interested to know that Mr. Kimball, the author of this chapter, is here referred to.—W. B. M.
The work was often attended by interesting and sometimes humorous incidents. During a meeting in the reading room of the Home one evening an intoxicated sailor created a disturbance at the door. He wanted to enter, and had to be held back by force. The meeting closed, and the “flying artillery,” under the leadership of Mr. Kellogg, was about starting for the nine o’clock prayer-meeting at the rooms of the Young Men’s Christian Association in Tremont Temple. The inebriate took it into his head to go too. He was reasoned with, but without effect. “You fellows have got a good thing,” said he, “and I want some of it.” The leader and his “body-guard” started, and sure enough, the disciple of Bacchus followed. Mr. Kellogg protested, but in vain, and finally ordered “the flying artillery” to take the double-quick. The man then showed that he, too, could sprint a bit even if he did happen to be “loaded.” He managed to keep the party in sight, and although he met many obstacles and collided with a horse-car in crossing Washington Street, he succeeded in landing a fairly good second. He was not allowed to enter the prayer-meeting, however, as he was still inclined to be noisy, but was “held” in an adjoining room. The young men got him back to the Home after the meeting, and he again declared it his purpose to have religion anyhow, in spite of opposition. Next morning he appeared, demanded a pen, and with the air of a usurper of a throne about to banish all who had in any way opposed him, placed his name upon the temperance pledge. That evening in the prayer-meeting he requested prayers. He gave his heart to Christ, became a devoted worker, and a year afterward, returning from a voyage, was found to be still in the faith.
But sinners had to be brought to repentance ordinarily. They rarely came unsought, like this poor wayfarer, and thus Mr. Kellogg and his helpers always found plenty to do. It was an inspiring scene when the leader and his “body-guard” set out for the prayer-meeting upon the receiving-ship Ohio or returned therefrom. In going, they usually met at the Young Men’s Christian Association, proceeding thence via “Foot and Walker’s line,” two by two, keeping step to the music of their own voices. “The Old Mountain Tree,” “A Life on the Ocean Wave,” and many other popular songs of the day, as well as hymns, were sung. Among the favorite hymns was “Say, brothers, will you meet us?” It had that stirring chorus, “Glory, glory, hallelujah.” This was sung a great deal, and it finally became the foundation of the famous “John Brown Song,” to the rhythm of which thousands marched in the great war for the nation’s life.
No small part of Mr. Kellogg’s success in this work came from his intimate knowledge of the seaman’s nature. Sailors are in many ways peculiar, and in order to be of service to them a worker must proceed understandingly. They regard themselves as in a measure set apart from their fellow-men. One of them once wrote:—