Memorials of Capt. Hedley Vicars, Ninety-seventh Regiment by Marsh, Catherine, 1818-1912/Appendix
APPENDIX.
IN MEMORIAM.
A passage in the despatch from Lord Raglan, published on Good Friday, April 6, closed the last door of hope that there might be some mistake in the telegraphic notice of Captain Vicars' death, communicated by the evening papers of the 4th:
"Camp before sebastopol, March 24th, 1855.
"Early in the night a serious attack was made upon the works of our Allies in front of the Victoria redoubt, opposite the Malakhoff Tower.
"The night was very dark, and the wind so high, that the firing which took place, and which was very heavy, could scarcely be heard in the British camp; it is, therefore, difficult to speak with certainty of what occurred from any thing that could be heard or observed at the moment.
"It appears, however, that the Russians, after attacking the head of the sap which the French are carrying on towards the Mamelon, fell with two heavy masses on the new parallel, to the rear of which they succeeded in penetrating and momentarily possessing themselves of, after a gallant resistance on the part of our Allies.
"Having broken through, they passed along the parallel and in rear of it, until they came in contact with the troops stationed in our advance parallel, extending into the ravine, from the right of our advance, where it connects with the French trench.
"The enemy was here met by detachments of the 77th and 97th regiments, forming part of the guard of the trenches, who, although thus taken suddenly both in flank and rear, behaved with the utmost gallantry and coolness.
"The detachment of the 97th, which was on the extreme right, and which consequently first came in contact with the enemy, repulsed the attack at the point of the bayonet.
"They were led by Captain Vicars, who, unfortunately, lost his life on this occasion: and I am assured that nothing could be more distinguished than the gallantry and good example which he set to the detachment under his command."
By the same post, their tone according with the solemn and hallowed associations of the day, the following letters confirmed the fatal tidings.
TO LORD RAYLEIGH.
"Before Sebastopol.
"My Lord — It is with the deepest sorrow that I write to announce the death of Captain Vicars, of the 97th Regiment. He was killed last night in the trenches, while gallantly cheering on his men to the attack of a body of the enemy, who, taking advantage of the darkness of the night, got close in to our trenches. From what I can glean of the affair, he rushed bravely into the middle of them, knocked down two, and was in the act of striking a third when one of them shot him through his right arm, high up close to the shoulder; the ball divided the principal artery, and he must soon have bled to death; therefore, it is a melancholy satisfaction to know that his sufferings were short.
"I cannot express my own sorrow, and that of the Regiment, at the loss of so valuable an officer, further than to say, as regards myself, I feel that I have lost a brother; it was in his society I felt the happiest; as regards the regiment, he cannot be replaced. Contemplating his melancholy loss in the light of a Christian, we indeed ought not to sorrow as those who have no hope, for I feel sure no officer in the whole army was more prepared to meet his Saviour. I write to your Lordship, as he told one of the officers that his mother was staying with you; and gave your direction in case (as he said) of any thing happening to him.
"I am, &c,
"T.O.W. Ingram,
"Major, 97th Regiment."
FROM AN OFFICER IN THE ROYAL ARTILLERY.
"Camp before Sebastopol, March 23d, 1855.
"Much do I thank you for your very kind letter of the 23d of February. The information it contained concerning a Day of Humiliation having been determined upon, was most acceptable; and itself tended not a little; to cheer our spirits, of late, by many circumstances, much cast down.
"That kind letter deserved a far different; answer from that which I am now called upon to send. Sad, sad, indeed, are the tidings I have to communicate. But I know that, painful and severe as the blow must prove, it is much better that the worst should be told, in a direct and certain form, by letter, than to have your feelings tortured unnecessarily by the uncertain reports which could not fail to reach you through the newspapers. On this account, I feel sure you will forgive me for taking upon myself to break to you — one of his dearest and most valued friends — the melancholy news of the death of our dear companion in arms, and brother in the Lord, Captain Vicars, 97th.
"Yes, our good and gracious God has seen fit, at this His own good time, to take unto himself the soul of our beloved friend. Yet, if we find in these words much to cause deep affliction, surely they contain much of comfort also. Our loss and sorrow are great; but his gain and bliss are greater. Dear Vicars is the second of our little band who has been removed to a higher and belter world within a fortnight. Captain Craigie. R.E., we lost about ten days ago, Surely these are warnings to us. 'Prepare to meet thy God' is written as with the finger of God. May He himself prepare our souls, by fixing our wandering hearts more entirely on himself.
"The action of last night — I might almost dignify it by the name of 'battle' — has been a glorious and decisive victory. It was Inkermann on a small scale — an attack in very great force, and on all points; and everywhere they were beaten back with vigour and heavy loss. I saw at least three hundred Russian bodies lying on the field. We calculated that their loss must have exceeded twelve hundred men. The French lost five hundred, and the English four officers and about fifty men.
"Vicars was in the advanced parallel of our right attack, with a picquet of his regiment. The enemy attacked the French lines close alongside where he lay; a ravine only separated them. They at first drove back the French, and part of them then turned to their right, crossed the ravine, and took our trench in flank. We were unprepared, and at first thought the advancing body was one of the French; but Vicars found out they were the Russians, and ordered his men to lie down, and wait till they came within twenty paces. When the enemy was close enough, Vicars shouted, 'Now 97th, on your pins, and charge!' They poured in a volley, charged, and drove the Russians quite out of the trench. Vicars himself struck down two Russians, and was in the act of cutting down a third with his sword, when another man, who was quite close [for the coat was singed], fired. The ball entered his uplifted right arm, close to where it joins the shoulder, and he fell. The main artery was divided, and he must have bled to death in a few minutes.
"Thus his end was as peaceful and painless as a soldier's death could be; and nothing could have been more noble, devoted, and glorious than his conduct in this, his first and last engagement. Surely this must afford some consolation to those who loved him.
"He was universally beloved; and none can doubt who knew him that he is now in the presence of that great and holy God whom on earth he deeply loved, and earnestly and successfully sought to serve.
"Poor fellow! he chose the Psalms and Lessons for the preceding day (the Day of Humiliation), and read this service, when several of us met to worship God. All present must have noticed the fervour of his manner. Little did we think he was so soon to be numbered with the dead.
"Let us not sorrow for our beloved brother as those without hope. We have a good and sure hope, nay, a firm faith, that we shall meet again. * * *
"May God comfort you all."
The following letter was written to a mother, without any idea on the part of the writer that the sorrowing hearts of Hedley Vicars' relatives and friends would be warmed and comforted by its overflowing affection to his memory:
TO LADY MACGREGOR.
"Camp before Sebastopol, March 23d, 1855.
Dearest Mother — This is a dark and sorrowful day with me; my heart is wrung, my eyes red and hot with crying. I feel gloomy and sorrowful altogether. My very dear friend Vicars was killed last night! The Russians made a sortie; and, while gallantly leading on a handful of our men, to charge them outside our works, he was mortally wounded by a ball striking his right breast. He died soon after, and is now enjoying a glorious rest in the presence of his Saviour. I do not pity him. What more could we wish for him? He was fully prepared for the most sudden death, and he died bravely fighting and doing his duty. But my heart bleeds for the loss of my dearest friend, and for the sake of his poor mother and family.
"Such a death became such a life — and such a soldier. The most gallant, the most cheerful, the happiest, the most universally respected officer, and the most consistent Christian soldier, has been taken from us by that bullet; and I know not how to live without him. He was my truest friend, my most cheerful companion, and my friendly adviser on all occasions. But, as his sergeant remarked, bitterly, this morning, 'He was too good to live.'
"Oh! how many happy little schemes of mine does this at once put an end to. I had fondly hoped that we should live to go home, and that I might bring my dear departed friend to you, and proudly show him as a specimen of what a model soldier should be. But God's ways are not our ways. He spared him from the horrible death of suffocation by charcoal, for a few months, that he might die a soldier's death.
"Noble fellow; he rushed in front of his men; and his powerful arm made more than one Russian fall, before that cruel bullet brought him down. It must have been fired close to him, for his coat was singed. I never knew how much I loved him until he was so nearly dying of the charcoal. When I heard at day-light this morning, that Vicars had been brought home dead, you may imagine my excessive grief. I loved that man as dearly as a brother; and it seems that I almost hear his voice sounding in my ears, as he read (two days ago) the service — when some of us met on the day of humiliation,
"There was a little locket which he always wore round his neck; and I remember, when we heard we were to come here, he said, 'we should all be prepared to give directions what we wished done in case we got killed; for instance, I have got a little book of Psalms, and a locket, which I would wish sent home, in case I die!' Poor fellow! I remember this; and as I took the locket (a small gold one which opens like a watch, and has a small picture) — sprinkled with his life-blood — I cried so that I thought I would get ill.
" * * * Oh! his poor mother and sisters, that he loved so dearly. But she is a Christian: and has lived to see her once wild and reel, less son come to the fold of Jesus, and prove his sincerity by a long, and unswerving, and consistent course. I also cut a lock of his fine, curly hair this morning, as I knew his mother would like to get it If I was to try to write all the good that my beloved friend did, I should not have room. How he fearlessly, visited and spoke to the men in the worst times of the cholera; but, as he told me, he got his reward — for the soldiers' dying lips besought blessings on his head. Oh, how happy he is now! Such a death, and such glory now! Even in death his habitual happy smile did not forsake him. The Lord knew when and how to take him; but it is a severe and unspeakably painful trial to me.
"Every one liked and respected Vicars; even those who did not agree with his strict religion; and those who had known him so long as the leader of every mad riot, when, after closely watching him for years, and finding that once enlisted in Christ's army, he never flinched — at last gave in, and acknowledged that Vicars, at any rate, was a true Christian. How sadly we shall miss him in all our little meetings. O God, help me to bear this sad affliction! I can't go on. He died gloriously, and now he is perfeclly happy. God help his afflicted family, and help me also to bow submissively to His will!
"Our men got great praise for the fight last night; but who would not go anywhere with such a leader?
"Somehow, I passed a restless, almost sleepless night, and I then heard different arrivals of our wounded men, but did not know that my poor — no, my happy — friend was amongst the number, until parade at day-break. If you have not lost that crocus which Vicars sent a few weeks ago, please to keep it. Oh! blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.
"Farewell, Vicars, my loved companion! I knew when he went into action he would show that a Christian soldier was a brave as well as a happy man. I do not exactly know how it all was. I only vouch for the above facts, and the terrible reality of poor Vicars' noble frame lying in the hospital tent, where I saw it. We are in tent here, too. God bless you, dearest mother; and may He sanctify this severe trial to my soul.
"Your own
"Douglas."
Six months more, and Douglas Macgregor and Hedley Vicars had met again. "Lovely and pleasant in their lives, in their death they were not (long) divided."
Bright as the young survivor's Christian life had been before, it cleared into yet fuller lustre during those six months, ere his sun went down at noon. He regularly visited the hospitals, to read and pray with the sick and dying, and in every way sought to follow in the steps of that beloved friend, over whose grave he had wept with the strength of manly affection, and the tenderness of a woman's love.
On the death of Lieutenant Dorman, in the month of August, Lieutenant Macgregor, at the age of twenty, was appointed Adjutant to his regiment, an office for which his remarkable energy, sweetness of temper, and devoted military ardour peculiarly qualified him.
On the fatal 8th of September, twice he fought his way into the Redan, the second time to come no more out. He was found far advanced on that red ground, lying by a cannon, in the sleep of death.
"The trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised."
The next letter is from one whose own abounding labours of love amongst the ungodly, the sick and the dying, under the shadow of death, rendered him peculiarly open to the refreshing influence of even passing contact with such a spirit as that of Hedley Vicars:
"Balaklava, March 25th, 1855.
"My heart is filled with sorrow. I am deeply pained. I am much distressed. And well do I know I write to one whose soul shall be filled with grief — grief which only Jesus can relieve; sorrow which only His hand can wipe away.
"From dear Dr. Cay's letter of the 23d, you have heard of the death of much-loved Captain Vicars. It has come over us as a heavy blow. It has taught us solemn lessons. It has caused the deepest affliction. We seek grace to bow to the will of the Lord, and to feel that His ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our thoughts. You know the circumstances. (Then follows a statement of the facts already given.) He 'fell asleep in Jesus' His work was done on earth — his race was run — his conflict ended— his crown awaiting — and now he wears it.
"I heard of his death on the evening of the 23d, and yesterday hastened to the front. I met one and another of the 97th, and the deepest sorrow filled each heart. I cannot express it. Rough hands wiped the starting tears away at the mention of his name, and one after another told me of the good he had sought to do him.
"On reaching the encampment of the 97th, I saw soldiers digging a grave. It was his. I stood beside them, and spoke to them as well as I could for sorrow, and remained till it was finished. Oh! how my heart bled for his dear mother and sisters at home. The poor soldiers seemed to feel this, and said that they could not forget his dear sister's parting counsels to them ere they left England. It seems to have made a deep impression on them.
"He was buried at three o'clock yesterday afternoon. All the officers of the 97th were there, with some friends from other regiments and a large number of the men of his own regiment. I stood by Dr. Cay, and Captain Vandeleur was opposite. A deep, very deep solemnity prevailed as the chaplain read the Funeral Service. It was a touching solemn hour. Yes, he had all earthly honour, all deep respect. The mournful procession went home, and dear Dr. Cay and I went together on the road to Balaklava talking of our loss, and of his dear mother and sisters and friends at home, and of those pleasures and joys he now possesses in the calm, pure, holy heaven on high.
"Being all day with them, I had opportunity of seeing many of the men of the 97th. He was the most beloved officer of the regiment, and not only in his own regiment — it seems his name is well known now throughout the army, and his loss deeply felt. I could here pause to give expression to my own feelings. I feel I have lost a dear friend, one to whom my heart was much knit. I had anticipated happy days with him in this land, and I felt I should be much strengthened. It was not to be so. Soon we shall follow. Oh! may the faltering steps be quickened, and the soul be made to mount up with wings as eagles, longing, panting, thirsting more ardently and more constantly for the living God.
"I had visited him three times, and remained long with him. On Tuesday, the 20th, we had gone together to Major Ingram's tent, Dr. Cay also being present and another officer. It was put on me to read and pray, and it was good to be among them. He, with Dr. Cay, conveyed me a long way. Our conversation turned chiefly on the happiness of glorified spirits and their enjoyments. He was much delighted at the prospect of the National Fast Day on the following day. It was the sweetest walk I have ever had! Little did I think it was to be the last with him.
"On the 21st he met with others, and passed the day in fasting and prayer, and very pleasantly. My spirit was with him and the little band. Next night he was in glory. Yes, I feel sure of this. It seemed to me he was peculiarly ripe for it. He was growing much in the Divine life, and it must afford peculiar satisfaction to you to know (as he told me in that last walk), your letters had been the means of greatly strengthening him, and helping him forward. To God be the glory. Yes, he has fallen as a soldier and as a Christian. The Church of God, his dear mother and sisters, and Christian friends shall miss him much. Yet we cannot, we would not recall him, if we could. God had need of him. He is removed from the evil to come. The white robe is now his — the crown of victory — the song that shall never end. Tears may give place to joy. True, it was not amidst kind friends or on downy bed he died, it was in the deadly charge and in the battle's strife. Yet it is all one. He fell as a Christian, nobly doing his duty. He awaits to give us a welcome on high. Kindly recognition shall take place. He needs us to swell the song, to help to praise. Lord, more grace, more grace, that we may follow him as he followed Jesus!
"Dr. Cay is to get a stone to mark his grave, that it may be well known. He lies close to the mile-stone on the Woronzoff road to Sebastopol, 200 yards from the Picket House.
"I feel deeply for his mother and sisters — I cannot say how deeply. May they know much of the sympathy of Jesus! You, too, shall need it for you have lost a brother.
"Will you kindly offer my Christian love to all at Beckenham, especially to your dear honoured father. Mercy, grace, abundant grace, be with you.
"Yours in the bonds of Jesus,
"Duncan Matheson.
FROM A PRIVATE IN THE 97TH.
"Camp before Sebastopol, March 23rd, 1855.
"My Dear Wife—Oh the night of the 22d we had a visit from the Russians. A strong force pushed up to our advanced works, and succeeded in getting into the trenches where there was a weak point. Several of our regiment got killed, and amongst them was our gallant Captain, poor Mr. Vicars, who was so deeply loved by all the regiment. Even the officers almost all cried the morning after the affair.
"He got a bayonet wound first, and then with a handful of his men drove the Russians off and out on their ground; for where the affair happened is close to their own batteries. He was seen to use his sword bravely, and cut down two men, and had his sword raised to serve another the same, when a bullet struck him in the breast, and he shouted out that he was only slightly wounded. But, alas! poor fellow, he fell, and died soon after. The Russians would have carried him off and stripped him of all he was worth, but our gallant lads bravely defended him, and carried him off the field.
"We had four killed and four wounded, besides fourteen missing, which we expect were taken prisoners, as we took a great many Russians, and a great many were killed. Amongst them some officers were killed at our mortar batteries in attempting to spike them. For several days here the Russians kept very quiet — did not so much as fire a shot. We could not tell what they were up to.
"Poor Captain Vicars will be deeply regretted by all who knew him, but I know his soul is in heaven.
"So no more at present, my dear wife, from your affectionate husband,
"John Cotterall, 97th."
From a private in the Coldstream Guards, formerly a Crystal Palace workman, who enlisted principally with the hope of being sent to the Crimea, that he might see Captain Vicars again:
"St. George's Barracks, April 6th.
"Dear Lady— When I opened the paper it made the tears come into my eyes, for to hear that my beloved friend had left this world. He is gone to sleep in Jesus. I wish I had been by his side and seen him fall asleep. But I know that he is in greater glory than is to be had in this world. When last I saw him in Beckenham amongst us, little did I think that it was the last. But he fell in duty and glory.
"I expect we shall leave for the East in a day or so. We are all at a minute's notice. I have all the little books you gave me, packed up in my kit.
"I was always living in the hopes of seeing that beloved, respected Captain, and honoured brother in the Lord, out there, when I got a chance of going out to him. Now I am disappointed. But I will put no trust in princes to get me to heaven; but I look on the blood of Jesus on the cross, I will trust in Him, and he will never forsake me. For Jesus says —
'All ye that thirst, approach the stream
Where living waters flow.'
"Our beloved friend is drinking of those living waters now.
"So no more at present from your humble and grateful friend,
"James Kelly, Coldstream Guards."
TO MRS. VICARS.
"Beckenham, April 9th; 1855.
"Dear Mrs. Vicars — I am not writing to you merely a letter of sympathy. I believe I can fully enter into your grief. Since the sudden death of a dear child of my own—darling Lucy's mother—I have never felt so thoroughly heart-stricken.
"That brave soldier, that eminent Christian, that active servant of Christ, that loving heart, had wound itself round my heart. I could weep all day; but this is wrong. Let me think upon the honour conferred upon him in life; of the easy passage in death; of the bliss of his spirit in paradise; and of the brilliant example he has left behind! I will try to think of him, rather than of myself, or even of those so dear to me. But their sorrows pierce me. But let me rather think of the wisdom and love of His government, who, indeed, wept at the tomb of Lazarus, and, therefore, I may weep; but intended that tomb to give a higher display of the Divine glory. Oh, let us trust where we cannot trace, and believe that we shall discover only love in our most painful feelings here.
"Yet a little while, and Rev. vii. 13-17, xxi. 4, will be fulfilled: and there we shall meet our beloved ones who have gone before (1 Thess. iv. 13-18;) and the presence of the Lord will be the sunshine upon all. I pray God comfort you and your dear children, and dear Lord and Lady Rayleigh.
"Believe me to be, dear Mrs. Vicars, yours faithfully and affectionately,
"Wm. Marsh.".
EXTRACT OF A LETTER FROM LORD PANMURE TO LORD RAYLEIGH.
"War Department, April 21st, 1855.
" * * * I cannot but regard the death of Captain Vicars as a national calamity, as it has deprived the Queen and the nation of the service of an officer who was distinguished by his gallantry and devotion to the service." * * *
EXTRACT OF A LETTER FROM THE REV. DR. BLACKWOOD.
"Scutari, April 30th, 1855.
"Occasionally in the midst of the horrors of war, one meets traits of character which are very pleasing. You will have seen in the newspapers some accounts of the death of Captain Vicars, of the 97th Regiment, while gallantly repulsing a night sortie of the Russians, at the head of his men in the trenches. This was a good man, and in his instance is realized the promise, 'The memory of the just is blessed.' In passing through one of my wards the day after the news of his death had arrived at Scutari, I met with two or three of his men, who spoke to me with the most earnest and affectionate interest, inquiring the truth of the sad news. They all bore testimony to his excellence, and to his unceasing and zealous endeavours to impress them with religions sentiments, and instruct them in religious truth. He appears to have acted as a father and evangelist to his men. One very interesting= youth wept freely while he spoke of his own former wild and thoughtless course, from which he had been reclaimed by the exhortations and instructions of Captain Vicars, who used to read and expound the Scriptures and pray with his men individually, as well as sometimes collectively. This young man received religious books from me with evident intentions to use and profit by them, and told me how Captain Vicars had exhorted him to be useful in speaking a word to his thoughtless comrades, as well as in keeping his own faith. What a blessing is such a character as Captain Vicars; and I believe there are not a few of the like spirit just now in our army."
EXTRACT FROM THE LETTER OF A PRIVATE IN THE 77TH.
"The loss of Captain Vicars is felt by many — many a one out here. But he rejoices and enjoys the fruits of his heavy labours in the loving bosom of his God and Saviour. Willingly would I have resigned my poor life to have prevented the deadly blow.
"I wept for his loss, but now I envy him his glory.
"I send you some clay I got on his grave, and a rough sketch (but true) of his tombstone. His men have ornamented the grave with shells, and flowers are already growing there."
FROM CAPTAIN VICARS' SERVANT IN THE REGIMENT.
"Camp before Sebastopol, May 20th, 1855.
"Madam — The name of Captain Vicars is engraven on the hearts of the private soldiers of the 97th, with feelings of love and gratitude. believe here is not a man in the Regiment but would have run any risk to have saved his life. I, as his servant, can assure you, he was as a brother to me, and not as a master, though no gentleman could be more honoured and respected. I feel a happiness when I think of the home his soul is now enjoying.
"I am requested by the soldiers of the 97th to say how pleased and thankful they will be for the little books about him when they reach; and I believe there are many of the men will keep them till the day they die.
"I remain, yours respectfully,
"Richard Young, 97th,"
FROM AN OFFICER OF THE 97th.
May 22d, 1855.
" * * * I can't tell you how much I felt the loss of poor Vicars. Ever since I joined the Regiment he was one of my best friends in every sense of the word, always trying to do me good, both by example and advice; however, I have no doubt the poor fellow is much happier where he is; he fell, as he wished to fall, at the head of his men, leading them on to victory. I can't tell you how much his company loved him; and if you were to see the poor fellow's grave, how nicely they have done it round with stones and shells, showing in the only way they could, how deeply they felt his loss!
"At twelve o'clock on the night of the 22d of March, his servant rushed into my tent, saying they were bringing his master home wounded. He must have died just before he arrived in camp, for at the Picquet-house he asked the men that were carrying him to put a cloak over him, as he felt cold, and when I saw him a minute afterwards he was dead. He died an easy death — not the slightest sign of suffering about him. He appeared as if he were in a tranquil sleep; his poor servant and the soldiers that carried him were all in tears. I never saw an officer so much loved as he was. Many a vow of vengeance was uttered, and no doubt will be kept when they get the chance. I used to have such work to make him take his pistols; and that night I dined out, and he did not take them. I have got his fur coal, in which the poor fellow was shot, which I am keeping in memory of one of the dearest friends I ever had. He has been a heavy loss to all, but at the same time we can't help envying him the glorious way in which he fell, and the certainty of his now being so much happier, and in a better place than this wretched world of sin and sorrow." * * *
From one of those soldiers of the 97th who fought their way through the ranks of the Russians, as they closed round Captainn Vicars when he fell. The writer is a Roman Catholic:
Camp before Sevastopol, June 28th 1855.
"Madam — I hope you will excuse the liberty I take in acknowledging the receipt of your very kind note of the 20th May, 1855, and its enclosure of half a sovereign; also the handsome good book you were so kind as to send me. I am sure I have not done anything to deserve such kindness; what I have done in striving to save the late beloved Captain Vicars any one soldier in the Regiment would have done, for he was beloved by all who knew him. His constant care was the best way he could contribute to the comfort of all under his command. As our Adjutant, he was loved by every one in the Regiment, and, as Captain of No. 4 Company, he was more so by his Company. There is scarcely a man in the Regiment who would not have gladly laid down his life to save his; and we all feel sorrow when we think of our victory on the 22d of March, on account of his loss.
"I am sorry that I cannot express my thanks for your kind wishes and your handsome present, a book not much read by the humble classes of my persuasion; but your book I will read and study, so that I might become worthy to meet your beloved friend, and our no less beloved friend in glory.
"The letter you so kindly sent me I am sending to my mother, for fear that, through its smallness, I might lose it; and it it should please the Lord to take me, I have given directions to have the Bible sent also. It is not for the intrinsic value that I prize them. No! it is the pride I feel in an humble individual like me to have my name coupled with all that was good. All our officers are kind and good, but he was best, and most beloved.
"I, and every one that has heard of your kindness, sincerely sympathise in your loss. I most respectfully again beg you will forgive my presumption in writing to you in return for your kindness, but I felt my debt to you so much that I could not but thank you. I humbly hope you will excuse me for trespassing on your time so long; I am only sorry I cannot thank you as I should.
"I beg to remain,
"Your very obedient humble servant,
"J. O'Rielly,
"Private, No. 3 Company, 97th Regiment."
The following letter will be read with melancholy interest, as it is from the pen of one who fell foremost in the Redan, whilst gallantly leading the forlorn hope, on the 8th of September, and was followed to a soldier's grave with no common regret:
"Camp, June 29th, 1855.
"My Dear Lady Rayleigh— My brother officers have requested me to acknowledge your kindness, and to thank you very much for your remembrances of them in forwarding the books descriptive of the life of their poor friend and fellow-soldier, Captain Vicars. Believe me, no one was, or could be more regretted than he was; for anxious, zealous, and attentive to his duties, he was also most cheerful, self-denying, and obliging to his friends and companions. The narrative truly states, that whilst he entered with all his heart into the interests and dunes of a soldier, his lips and life held one unchanging story of the love of Christ.
"It must be a very great source of consolation to his mother to know that in all this army, none, as far as human observation can judge, was more prepared to meet his Maker.
"I was not in the trench the night he suffered; but hearing that some wounded men had been sent up, I had risen and gone to the hospital with the doctor: Whilst there, I was informed that he was being brought in, and hastening to meet him, found, poor fellow, that he had breathed his last — as his bearers informed me calmly and quietly, having spoken a few minutes before I met them.
"I must beg you to convey my condolence to his poor mother, to whom I would have written at the time had I known her address, but I was very busy, the regiment having just shifted ground, and being much pressed with duty, I left the correspondence to a personal and intimate friend of his. Major Ingram.
"Believe me, my dear Lady Rayleigh, most truly to remain yours,
"A. F. Welsford,
"Major Commanding, 97th Regiment."
So much; which yet we leave not quite behind;
For the bright memories of the holy dead.
The blessed ones departed, shine on us
Like the pure splendours of some clear large star.
Which pilgrims, travelling onward, at their back
Leave, and at every moment see not now:
Yet, whensoever they list, may pause and turn.
And with its glories gild their faces still.
Or, as beneath a northern sky is seen
The sunken sunset, living in the west.
A tender radiance there surviving long.
Which has not faded all away, before
The flaming banners of the morn advance
Over the summits of the Orient hills."[1]
In the majority of the few extracts quoted in this chapter, from a large number of letters of nearly equal interest, the 97th Regiment have borne their own testimony to their value for Hedley Vicars.
In conclusion, the writer of these memorials would venture to repeat, with a deeper meaning, his own last words to his faithful men, "This way, 97th!" And would add a humble prayer, not only for that gallant regiment (in which all who loved Hedley Vicars must ever feel a peculiar interest), but also for every soldier in the British army, that each may tread the same path to endless glory, by finding Him who is "the Way, the Truth, and the Life;" that taught of the Holy Spirit, as this young soldier was, they may learn, as he did, to follow Jesus "in the blessed steps of His most holy life;" and may at last inherit with him, those pleasures which are at God's right hand, for evermore.
- ↑ Trench