was a teamster from his own headquarters, a member of his covenanting regiment, and a confidential old friend. He was hauling a heavy load of forage from the depôt to camp; his six mules had become rebellious with their overload, had run the wagon against a stump and snapped off the pole. The teamster opened his great batteries of wrath and profanity against the mules, the wagon, the Arkansas mud, the Rebels, and Jeff Davis. In the course of an hour afterwards, as the teamster was passing headquarters, the General called to him and said, "John, did I not hear some one swearing most terribly an hour ago down on the bottom ?" "I think you did, General." "Do you not remember the covenant entered into at Benton Barracks, St. Louis, with Rev. Dr. Nelson, that I should do all the swearing for our old regiment?" "To be sure I do, General," said John; "but then you were not there to do it, and it had to be done right off!" Abraham Lincoln's Heart. poor old man Gen. Fisk related this story in January, 1865, in the hearing of President Lincoln, at the Anniversary Meeting of the Commission, in the Hall of the House of Representatives at Washington. The President, if one might judge from his demonstrations on the occasion, enjoyed the incident hugely. The next morning, Gen. Fisk was waiting in the ante-room at the White House to see Mr. Lincoln. A from Tennessee was moving about, among the large number in attendance, with a very sorrowful face. Sitting down beside him, the General inquired his errand, and learned that he had been waiting three or four days to get an audience. On seeing Mr. Lincoln probably depended the life of his son, who was under sentence of death at Nashville for some military offence. Gen. Fisk wrote his case in outline on a card, and sent it in with a special request that the President would see the man. In a moment the order came, and past Senators, Governors and Generals, waiting impatiently, the old man was ushered into the President's presence. He showed Mr. Lincoln his papers. He took them and said with great kindness that he would look into them, and give him an answer on the following day. The old man, in an agony of apprehension, looked up into the President's sympathetic face, and cried aloud "To-morrow may be too late. My son is under sentence of death. The decision must be made right off." The tall form of Mr. Lincoln bent over the old man in an instant. Come," said he, "wait a bit; that 'right off" reminds me of a story." And then he went on to relate the case of "John Todd," which Gen. Fisk had told the evening before. As he told it, the old man became interested; for a moment he forgot his boy and sorrow, and President and listener laughed heartily together. Mr. Lincoln took up the papers again, and bent over them a second to write a few magic words. The old man's eyes were filled with tears again when he read them; but now they were tears of joy, for the words had saved the life of his boy. CHAPTER IV. THE WESTERN ARMIES. FROM AFTER THE STONE RIVER BATTLES UNTIL THE SURRENDER OF VICKSBURG. January 1863-July 1863. THE Army of Gen. Rosecrans remained inactive at Murfreesboro' until midsummer of 1863. This period of comparative quiet afforded a rare opportunity for inaugurating more fully the work of the Commission. Rev. Edward P. Smith' was appointed the General Field Agent in the Army of the Cumberland, and entered the lines, with several Delegates, early in April. Organization was at once begun, and the work in the army, with Nashville as the centre of operations, became thenceforth rich in effort and in fruit. The first Delegates carried, along with their other stores, some children's gifts and letters to soldiers. The history of one of these mementos has been accurately traced, and is of peculiar interest : A little girl in Philadelphia, about seven years of age, sent, with a Testament, to "some sick soldier" in the hospitals at Nashville, the following letter: PHILADELPHIA, April 17, 1863. MY DEAR SOLDIER:—I send you a little Testament. I am a little girl seven years old. I want to do something for the soldiers who do so much for us; so I have saved Little Lizzie's Letter. 1 See p. 129. my pocket money to send you this. Although I have never seen you, I intend to begin to pray that God will make and keep you good. Oh how sorry I am that you have to leave your dear mother! Did she cry when you bade her good-bye? Don't you often think of her at night when you are going to bed? Do you kneel down and say your prayers? If I were you, I wouldn't care if the other soldiers did laugh; God will smile upon you. I am sorry, very sorry that you are sick. I wish I could go to nurse you. I could bathe your head and read to you. Do you know the hymn "There is a happy land?" I hope you will go to that land when you die. But, remember, I will pray that you will get well again. When you are able to sit up, I wish you to write to me, and tell me all your troubles. Enclosed you will find a postage stamp. I live at North Ninth street, Philadelphia. Good-bye. Your friend, LIZZIE SCOTT. Mr. Caleb J. Milne, a Delegate from Philadelphia, carried the Testament and letter to Nashville. Not knowing how better to fulfill Lizzie's trust, Mr. Milne determined, one evening at a prayer meeting in the convalescent ward of Hospital No. 8, to give it to the first man who should ask for prayers. When the invitation was given, the first man upon his feet was a Michigan cavalryman. He was in earnest about the great question of salvation, and, at the close of the meeting, Mr. Milne, after a few words of counsel, handed him the child's package, with what effect the cavalryman's letter, written shortly afterwards, will tell: NASHVILLE, TENN, April 24, 1863. DEAR SISTER LIZZIE:-I received your kind letter from Mr. C. J. M. A beautiful present indeed, and I trust that it will be one of the means of converting others, as well as the receiver. May God bless the giver! You have done a good work. Continue to pray, dear sister, and God will answer you. says so in His Word. My dear mother is in the grave. It is nearly eleven years since she died; but she died happy, and I trust I shall meet her in heaven. He I will try and pray for myself. I have been in the hospital four months, but am now nearly well; will be able to join my regiment to face the enemy; and if I should fall on the battle-field, I may have the blessed assurance of meeting my Saviour in peace. Yes, "there is a happy land." May we meet in that happy land. I do not think that my fellow-soldiers will deter me from serving my Master. There are many others here that His Spirit is striving with. I expect to go home to see my dear friends once more. I am very thankful that the privilege is granted, and I trust we shall have a happy meeting. Dear Lizzie, I must close. May God bless you, is my prayer. Write me again. Address, Your friend, STANLEY NICHOLS,' Co. F, 4th Mich. Cav., Nashville. The Chaplains of the army worked most cordially with the Delegates, and, as they were able, undertook volunteer labor in the hospitals of Murfreesboro'. Chaplain Thomas' gives the following picture: One Sunday, I distributed reading matter throughout the nine hospitals in Murfreesboro'. At the close of a short service in "No. 8,” 1 Rev. Thomas Atkinson gives the particulars of a very pleasant interview with Stanley Nichols, at No. 8 Hospital, Nashville, about Chickamauga time. His regiment had been at New Albany, Ind., and was going forward to the front. He stopped at his old hospital over night, to see some former friends. "When I saw him first, he was standing late at night beside a cot. A lamp overhead gave a feeble light. He was the very picture of everything manly and noble and Christian. I stepped forward and asked, 'Are you Stanley Nichols?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Are you a Christian?' 'Yes, thank God!' 'Have you the letter you got from little Lizzie ?' 'Yes, sir,' said he, and he went on to tell me of the ir.fluence it had had upon his life." Mr. Atkinson's interview resulted in the publication, by the American Tract Society of New York, of the original correspondence, which excited such deep interest throughout the country. Rev. C. S. Armstrong, Chaplain of Nichols' regiment, writes us that he ever found him, after the receipt of Lizzie's letter, a true Christian soldier, and of great service to him in his work among the men. 2 See p. 82. |