Memorials of Capt. Hedley Vicars, Ninety-seventh Regiment by Marsh, Catherine, 1818-1912/Chapter 7
VII.— THE WAR.
Than aught of earth, now fills his glance with light;
Thoughts which give nobler lessons how to die
Than e'er were drawn from Nature's haughty might.
And to that eye, with all the spirit bright,
Have ours replied in tears."
Hemans.
Scarcely had Hedley Vicars sailed for Gibraltar, when the startling order for an army to proceed to the East, shook the heart of peaceful England to its centre. Partings took place, such as had not been known in the land for forty years, and farewell blessings were given to extend over fields of bloodshed and death.
"Pray for him" was the watchword from friend to friend, as a husband, a son, or a brother, went forth to fight the battles of his country. Every sight of the Queen's uniform called forth emotions of generous enthusiasm from all conditions of men and efforts were made by those who felt that higher interests were at stake than of this mortal life only, to carry the message of peace to men who were on the eve of being engaged in the horrors of war. Every pulse of the country beat only for her soldier sons.
Each time the newspaper was unfolded, the number of some fresh regiment, ordered to hold itself in readiness for active service, or the brief notice of a troop transport having sailed, brought home the trial to the hearts of hundreds more.
At length came the notice of the 97th being under orders. The pang with which this announcement was read by those to whom the name of Hedley Vicars had become so dear, may well be imagined. As his friends had been under the impression that he might be retained at Gibraltar, until he joined his regiment there, on his way to the East, it was an indescribable relief to them to find that he was again in England, and that they should see his face once more.
The following letters were written shortly after his return:
"Windsor, March 15th.
"My very Dear Friend — Thank you very much for your valued letter, which allected me not a little. We are as far as men can judge, on the eve of war; and I shall soon, perhaps, be engaged in all the horrors of battle. But even then, believe me, I shall ever remember with deepest gratitude the friend who has so often cheered and comforted my too cold and wavering heart.
"But there are some things in your letter which grieve me. Your heart is sorrowful. I have felt more than once that peculiar bitterness which your soul has so lately experienced, and I can therefore fully sympathize with you. When we have, as we fondly hoped, been blessed by God in bringing a fellow-sinner into the fold of Christ, and when that often prayed-for and yearned-over one has given many proofs which both to ourselves and to the world in which he moves, appear decisive, it goes to the heart's quick to see or hear of such turning his back on an over-looking and long-suffering Saviour, and going once more hand in hand with his bitterest enemy. It is not so much, perhaps, fear for the souls of those poor erring men which causes us that sickness and weariness of heart; for we know that when a man sins 'he has an advocate with the Father, even Jesus Christ the righteous; and do you not think that in praying for the backslider, we seem to see the day of his repentance near again? But what tongue can tell the injury that is done to the cause of Christ? And this, alas! is irrevocable! But, dear friend, let us not dwell upon this painful subject. Each returning day proclaims aloud in our ears, 'Now is the accepted time; now is the day of salvation,' bidding us never to despair, for while there is breath there is hope, but rather calling us to lay out ourselves afresh and begin the battle again.
"I feel for you very, very much, and still more for poor W—— and H——, who have been at length overcome by the all-enticing snares of Satan, (Oh, how long he had me completely in his net!) The temptations in the wild roving life those poor fellows lead, must be strong. But we will unite our prayers for their recovery, and hope and believe (as I do still in the similar case of two or three of my soldiers) they will be attracted again to the cross of Jesus. We may conclude that when a soul has indeed tasted of its sweet comfort, that the pleasures which once satisfied, lose their charm, and appear but empty shadows, and, therefore, that it will find no rest until it return to the sinner's refuge. When I hear of and see others wandering from the Good shepherd, I cannot help thinking to myself, 'And who art thou, that thou shouldst be preserved?' Surely there is no safety but in Jesus — in clinging to his cross.
"I followed a poor sergeant to his last home yesterday, and now the mournful notes of the dead march proclaim that another soldier is being carried to the same resting-place. These sudden deaths are warnings to be likewise ready.
"We are still very unsettled — nothing being known for certain as to our movements. When it is known I will tell you. I have just heard from my beloved mother. She tells me she has a letter from you full of sympathy and comfort, and that she trusts a friendship is now established between both families which will last for ever, God for ever bless you for comforting her. Ever your most affectionate friend and brother,
"Hedley Vicars."
"Windsor, March 21st.
"My Very Dear Friend — I received your dear, welcome letter on Sunday morning when I was on the castle guard. I intended answering it last night, but from having been on guard one day, and on regimental duty the next, I felt rather tired. My heart is warmed with deepest feelings of gratitude and affection towards you, and never imagine that either time, or absence, or anything else will ever cause it to diminish: and what a blessing that the anchor of our love is firmly fixed beneath the cross of Christ, for such a friendship is sure and lasting, not merely held fast by the 'silver cord' of life, which may be snapped in a moment, but imbedded in the cleft of the rock for ever. God grant, dear friend, your love for Christ and devotion to his service may be blessed, not only in winning fresh jewels for the Saviour's crown, but in imparting stronger faith and more earnest zeal in the hearts of those who have been already visited by the Holy Ghost, and melted by the Redeemer's 'agony and bloody sweat, and by his cross and passion.' I can never repay you for that onward and steadier progress which I feel that you have been instrumental, through the grace of God, in imparting to my Christian course. I should find it difficult to tell you what solid peace and elevated enjoyment I have derived from communion with my best of all earthly friends. May the gladness and sunshine of the Saviour's presence ever more and more be inwardly experienced by yon in all its glowing, quickening power and heavenly delight, as a rich foretaste of those pleasures 'which eye hath not. seen nor ear heard,' but which God hath prepared for you, and, I trust, for me!
"At the feet of Jesus I would take up my resting-place, and learn of Him who was 'meek and lowly of heart.' O, how I long to have more, much more, of his ever-anxious solicitude and tender concern for souls, and something more like his confidence and love towards a heavenly Father. I see many short-comings in myself and much remaining worldliness and vanity; but —
"'Grace, 'tis a charming sound,'
'for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God;' but, notwithstanding, 'the righteousness of God, by faith of Jesus Christ, is unto all and upon all them that believe,' for there is no difference. 'Thus the righteousness of God without the law is manifested,' since we are 'justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.' It is to this glorious truth I would ever cling in life or in death, for I have thus 'boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.' This same Saviour 'appears now in the presence of God for us,' where 'He ever liveth to make intercession for us.' Would that all we love were safely sheltered beneath the cross. My heart aches when I look around upon most of those whose lot has been cast, like my own, in the army; for notwithstanding the war which is so close at hand, and m which we shall in all probability be engaged, how little change is visible in their walk and conversation! But in two cases I have great hopes — Captain ——— and one of our young Ensigns — in whose hearts I think the love of Christ finds a response. May they have strength to persevere unto the end!
"Do not make yourself uneasy about the Simoom. I came in her from Halifax, and can answer for her tortoise-like sailing qualities! I do not think we are to go to Constantinople, but are to co-operate with the Baltic fleet. If so, I fear I shall never have an opportunity of meeting Captain Astley. Give my love to all. God bless and keep you, my dear friend. Ever your most affectionate friend and brother,"Hedley Vicars."
TO LADY RAYLEIGH.
"Windsor, March, 1854.
"Ever Dearest Clara — Many thanks for your dear, interesting letter. How much I should have liked being present at the Meeting, and to have made acquaintance with Mr. Dallas. The Irish Church Missions Society ranks in my mind above any other. God grant it success! I remember it in my prayers every Saturday morning. May a great blessing attend the efforts which are being made to bring the poor benighted people of Ireland from the soul destroying errors of Popery to the simple 'truth as it is in Jesus.' How plain and easy to be understood is the plan of salvation: "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.' Jesus Christ is the sinner's prophet, priest, and king; and, thank God, we want no other. I am glad to say the Protestant Reformation Meeting is to come off here next Wednesday. There has been some difficulty about it, and I am quite rejoiced that it has been decided upon at last. But dearest Clara, whilst I am so opposed to Popery (seeing, as I do, the working of the system in the army), I bear no ill will to Romanists themselves. I should not be a Christian if I did; and I hope that II have no mere party feelings in this master, but rather that I am led to think as I do from the plain teaching of the Word of God. * * * * *
Events certainly are hastening rapidly, and the coming of the Son of man may be sooner than any of us expect it. Well, dearest sister, whatever may turn up, I think we can say nothing can hurt us. When I look within for proofs of my election and sanctification, I sometimes tremble: but the instant I lift up my eyes to Him whom God has given to be our righteousness, then my unbelieving fears vanish to the winds. Oh, that we could ever keep Jesus in our hearts and never let Him go.
In a letter of the same date to his youngest sister, the following remarkable passage occurs:
"Be assured you will feel far happier in this world even, by making religion your chief business and study, than by all the pleasures and gaieties which your young heart may now probably be longing after. I tell you candidly and seriously that I would willingly part with every earthly pleasure for life for one hour's communion with Jesus every day."
On the 29th of March he came from Windsor to meet us in London and return with us to Beckenham. On the evening of his arrival he addressed upwards of a hundred navvies, besides several of the young men of the village, at the reading-rooms. They were crowded to excess, and many more men surrounded the doors. He chose for his subject, "Prepare to meet thy God;" and no man on a dying bed could have spoken with greater solemnity and earnestness. Yet there he stood — a strong young man amidst strong young men, "putting himself alongside of us as a fellow-sinner," as one of them remarked, "and yet so good now, and such a man withal!"
One after another they crowded round him for a shake of his hand, and to wish him safety and success. We heard them saying amongst themselves, "It's a pity such a fine fellow as that should go to be shot;" and several of them met at the farther end of the village to make an agreement to pray for him regularly. With two of them the next morning he had a private conversation and prayer, at their own request.
On his way to the station he visited a dying navvy at Sydenham, with whom he prayed. The man said, "He never heard such a prayer; it went straight to his heart."
Whilst waiting for the train, he spoke of "the comfort of love between Christian friends," and then added in a low under tone, yet slightly hurried, "I have one last favour to ask of you. When I am shot, write to my mother; see her when you can; comfort her as God will teach you."
As soon as I could make any reply, I gave him the promise he required; but added that it seemed to me that so much prayer was made for him, we ought to believe that a special Providence would be extended over him.
He said he did not doubt it. Still his impression was that he should not return. It did not depress him, only gave him a more solemn trust in God, that He would make the name of the Lord Jesus Christ glorified in him whether by life or by death.
As his regiment was under orders to hold itself in readiness for embarkation at a day's notice, we all thought at the time that this would be his last visit to Beckenham, and "sorrowed most of all for the words which he spake, that we should see his face no more."
"March 31st.
" * * * I have left the quiet peace and heavenly calm of blessed Beckenham, soon, perhaps, to enter upon scenes of angry warfare and strife; but be assured, dearest friends, that you will ever live in my memory, my thoughts, and my prayers; and should it be God's will that we should not see each other here again, we will not sorrow, 'even as others which have no hope, for if we believe (thank God!
we do) that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also that sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.' Death to the believer is, after all, but an incident in immortality, for Christ says, "He that believeth on me hath everlasting life.' How earnestly I thank my heavenly father for having led me betimes to prepare for that certain eternity beyond the grave. A soldier needs to have Christ in his heart before the hour of battle, although we may hope and believe that to many (like the dying thief) the Son of Righteousness may arise 'with healing in his wings,' even after the swift bullet has brought the awful message, 'Behold, this night (or this hour) thy soul shall be required of thee.'
"I had such a heavenly joy yesterday and to-day, in conversing with a young bandsman, and a corporal whom I sent for, to my room. I was much struck by an observation from the latter (who, for a time, had fallen away, but is now 'all right,') 'I want more of Jesus in this life, Sir, so that when I die I may not be admitted into heaven as a stranger, but be received like a long-lost child would be at his own home.' Surely the Spirit of God is at work in his soul.
"These two men began their Christian course at the same time as myself. I experience fresh delight every time I speak with them of the love of God, of the peace and joy there is in believing. Alas! we understand each other too, when we speak of our weakness, our deadness at times to spiritual perceptions, our cares, and our temptations.
"The Testaments for the men arrived safely. Poor fellows! they were so delighted to get them. I am sure if they knew to whom they were indebted for them, they would desire me to send you their hearty thanks. I greatly like the little 'Soldier's Prayer.' Short, strong, and easy to be understood, it comprehends all that will fit us for heaven. Being a soldier, I take the liberty of using it myself. God grant they may all offer it from the ground of the heart. I have often hoard it said, 'The worse the man, the better the soldier!' Facts contradict this untruth. Were I ever, as leader of a forlorn hope allowed to select my men, it would be most certainly from among the soldiers of Christ, for who should fight 80 fearlessly and bravely as those to whom death presents no after terrors? * * * I was surprised to hear of the death of that poor navvy whom we visited; but I will cling with you to the hope that he died a 'pardoned sinner.' He loved prayer; this was not a natural desire, but implanted in his heart by God the Holy Spirit; and we may rest in a good hope that He who 'despiseth not the sighing of a contrite heart,' has been very merciful to him, and that he has gone to swell the number of the ransomed throng; and we shall meet again! The days of our appointed time will ere long have run out, and then our change comes. In that, our hour of need, when the heart shall prompt the rising prayer, 'Forsake me not when my strength faileth,' then shall the words of Jesus comfort our departing souls, 'I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.' A near view of Jesus, with those words ringing in our ears, is all that we shall want then.
"'In thy presence I am happy,
In thy presence I'm secure;
In thy presence all affliction
I can easily endure.
"'In thy presence I can conquer,
I can suffer, I can die.
Far from Thee I faint and perish;
O my Saviour, keep me nigh."
"The little book of Psalms you gave me, I take with me whenever I go out to walk. I have just learned by heart Psalm xci., and it has filled me with confidence in Jesus.
"Remember me most kindly to Gregory, Wood, Wakefield, and Dibley, and all my friends among the navvies. May the Lord give them grace to follow after the things that make for their peace, and to 'fear not the reproach of men, neither to be afraid of their revilings.' I remember them all in my prayers. Oh, may they all hold on to the end![1] Do tell them that I value their prayers more than I can express, and give them my best wishes for their interests, both temporal and spiritual. I shall probably see them no more on earth, as we are daily expecting our final orders."
But these final orders were not given until several weeks later, weeks of no common value to those who loved him.
During this period, an interest and a hope which, for some time past, he had felt it to be his duty to repress, revived with an earnestness and brightness which cast a new colouring over his views of an earthly future, and in a measure effaced the impression that he should not live to return home. Precious as his life had ever been to others, it now became of double value, for it belonged, not to his friends alone—not to his mother and his family alone—but to one whose early affection was entirely his, and whose spirit was of kindred quality.
The hope of returning to claim her as his own for ever, was very near his heart, and throughout the long months of his last miserable winter before Sebastopol, had no unimportant influence in keeping his spirit bright and strong. His earthly love was not the less deep and fervent, because it was subordinate to a love yet higher.
As he was quartered, in the months of April and May, at Kensington Barracks, he was able to attend several of the Meetings held by the religious Societies in Exeter Hall. His heart was world-wide, and, as a necessary consequence, it was his earnest desire that the religion which had so expanded his natural powers of loving, and which was the spring of his own joy, should be spread over the earth, by means of Bible and Missionary Associations. To his social nature, also, the meeting with many Christian brothers was a peculiar joy; and at this time he formed several strong personal friendships, which did not cease when he left the country.
That he won no common love from those who knew him, even slightly, may be gathered from the fact that he was prayed for, by name, at nine weekly prayer-meetings for the army, in England and Scotland, from the day of their commencement to the day of his death.
TO HIS YOUNGEST SISTER.
"I trust you had a happy Easter Sunday. It is the 'day of days,' on which, above all others, we should rejoice and be glad. On this day the Lord of Glory rose from the grave — He who was crowned with thorns, and nailed to the fearful cross — Jesus, the suffering, dying Lamb of God. His agonies are ended — He is risen, He is risen! Think not then of your past sins, except that you may love Christ more tor having forgiven you so much. They are all buried in His sepulchre; that streaming blood proclaims your soul's redemption.
Triumphant o'er the grave;
The Saviour leaves the tomb,
Omnipotent to save.
The glorious work is done;
On Him our help is laid,
By Him our victory won.
For whom their Surety died?
Who now shall those condemn
Whom God hath justified!'"
"Believe in this power of Jesus to save and help you. Dwell much in your thoughts upon His character. You must seek for Him as for hid treasure, and remember His words, 'Those that seek me early shall find me.'
"I want you, my darling Georgie, to give up your heart entirely to Christ Jesus your Redeemer. His love is beyond the power of words to express, and He is willing to pardon abundantly. We need, indeed, many gifts and graces before we shall be perfect in Christ Jesus, but, as St. Paul says, 'My God shall supply all your need, according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.' It is of no use to complain of our wants, unless we go to have them supplied, and we should not only pray to be delivered from the temporal and eternal consequences of sin, but for power to burst asunder each remaining link of its fetters; for strength to fight against pride, vanity, anger, self-righteousness, and everything which we know to be contrary to the will of our blessed Redeemer; and dearest sister, may we both grow daily in love and joy and peace, in tenderness of conscience and purity of heart."
TO MRS. OVENS.
"My very Dear Friend — God bless you for that kind and cheering letter, and also for your prayers, which I value more than I can express. As but a poor return, whilst I live, you shall have mine. May your heart, dear friend, be ever warmed and gladdened by the bright sunshine of a Saviour's presence. You know (and every believer in Christ can testify to it) that there is no delight in this world equal to that which is felt when the Saviour is near. Surely we have both great cause to
"'Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.'
for his distinguishing love and mercy in singling us out, and condescending to dwell in our hearts, whilst so many who are no greater sinners than we are 'are living without God in the world.'
"'Grace, 'tis a charming sound,
Harmonious to the ear.'
"God grant that both our hearts may he filled with Christ, and whilst 'with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord,' may we 'be changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.' Looking unto Jesus' is after all, the grand secret for keeping alive a love for holiness in the heart, and a longing for a more constant and close communion with our Heavenly Father.
"I returned from a short visit to Dr. Marsh last Thursday; truly that place is 'a little heaven below.' I enjoyed the short time I spent there very much, and was greatly refreshed by the many proofs I observed of real conversion to God from among the poor navvies employed in the Crystal Palace. What encouragement for us, dear friend, to be also zealous and active in the cause of our blessed Redeemer! One of the army missionaries employed by the 'Soldiers' Friend Society' called upon me last Monday with several Testaments (the men cannot take Bibles in their knapsacks) for the soldiers of the 97th Regiment. Would you mind asking your husband to make it known among his Christian friends that there is such a society? The men are very grateful for the great interest which is being taken in their eternal welfare. Who can say but that many a poor fellow, even after the whistling bullet has brought the summons, 'Prepare to meet thy God,' may be brought to 'look unto Jesus,' and thus be saved by a message of peace given him through those Testaments? — There is yet nothing known positively about the movements of my regiment, but it is said that we are soon to move to the Tower prior to our departure for the seat of war. I was much cheered the day before yesterday by a conversation which I had with two soldiers of the 97th, who began to follow the Lord Jesus about the same time as I did; they are
both, thank God, walking in his ways, and, like good soldiers of Christ, are fighting the Lord's battles against all his lees. I trust, dear friend, that when I return (if I ever do return), I may have an opportunity of paying you a visit. I am sure nothing would give me greater pleasure. Remember me most kindly to your husband, and believe me ever
"Your grateful and sincere friend,
"Hedley Vicars."
One day when we were in London, I happened to meet him when on my way to a hospital to see a sick navvy, whom I had known in Beckenham. He requested permission to go also. I hesitated, on finding that there were fever cases in the ward for which I was bound: he was amused at my fears for him, saying, that in old times he had spent many hours of the day by the side of yellow fever patients, at their quarters in the West Indies, reading novels to them; "So now you need not fear for me if I read the Bible to your mild fever cases in England!"
From that time he regularly visited that poor man twice a-week, although the hospital was six miles distant from Kensington Barracks; and even in the hurry of his last day in England, found time to bid him farewell.
During each of his succeeding visits to Beckenham, he addressed the poor in one cottage or another, in different parts of the village. At a carpenter's cottage, in an adjoining hamlet, where he spoke with reference to the fast for the army, which had been kept throughout the country the day before, he was constantly prayed for, from that time until its owner heard of his death.
A large number of young men, chiefly navvies, were present that evening, and at our request he told them the story of his conversion. To illustrate the recklessness of his life before that great change took place, he mentioned among other acts of useless and even sinful daring, that when he was in the West Indies at the time the cholera was raging, he and one brother officer determined to punish another for being afraid of it.
"Let us put him into a coffin!" said Hedley. No sooner spoken than acted upon. A row of coffins stood at the hospital door. Undeterred from their reckless purpose, by finding one after another filled by a silent occupant, they at last succeeded in their object.
The companion of Hedley Vicars in this sinful practical joke was seized with cholera shortly afterwards; but, by God's forbearing mercy, he was spared for better things.
At the close of his address, he turned round, and said to me, with characteristic frank simplicity, "I am sorry you asked me to speak of myself; one is afraid of being proud even in speaking of one's sins!"
The following letter is in allusion to this:
"Dearest Friend — I cannot tell you how lonely I always feel when, after having enjoyed your society (even if only for a few hours) I have once more returned to the routine of a soldier's life. But do not suppose because I say this, or from anything I have lately said, that I am beginning to 'show the white feather,' and that, finding a soldier's cross too irksome, I would change it for one less weighty. Never! The Lord God has called me to eternal life in the army, and as a soldier I will die! Had I loved Jesus when I was seventeen, or rather had the love of Jesus been then made known to my soul, I certainly should not have been a soldier; but as it is, death alone shall ever make me leave my colours. Did our God and King, Jesus himself the 'great Captain of our salvation,' spare any toil, fatigue, anguish, or bodily suffering even unto death, to obtain forgiveness of our sins? And shall not we, towards whom this infinite love and compassion have been shown, be constrained to do something for Jesus in return, nor care if our path of duty should prove a rough and thorny one: for He cleared a way through the briars first, and we but follow in the Saviour's footsteps?
"I confess that at times Satan has puffed me up, and made me think more highly of myself than I ought to think: but I hate and detest this sin, and for many months I think the Lord has given me grace to fight against effectually. But I must be watchful. How pleasant is it not, after having been engaged in the work of heart-examination, to pause and behold the Lamb of God? I thank God that I can trace so distinctly His finger in my soul's conversion, and that it has been begun and is carried on entirely by Him alone. 'By grace are ye saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest any man should boast.' Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing!'
"In reading again the account of our Saviour's resurrection, I could not help pausing to meditate on those blessed words, 'I ascend to my Father and your Father.' Is it not delightful when we can (even only for a while) fully realize that we are thus closely united to God through Jesus Christ ; and is it not a wonderful thought, in grandeur far exceeding the highest conception of the human mind, that we, although mere creatures of the clay, are yet immortal, God-related beings, elected, destined to enjoy a glorious, never-ending eternity with Jehovah Jesus, our Father and Elder Brother? Then shall these dark tombs of hearts be made so pure and white that even the breath of sin can never come near to defile them; and now we see through a glass darkly, then shall we know even as we are known.'
"I often grieve when at night I look back on the many precious hours, of the day lost, given me for the purpose of making a closer acquaintance with Jesus; and I suppose the greater happiness we find in Him here, the greater will be our enjoyment of Him hereafter. It is only adding sorrow to grief to know as we do that Christ yearns for our love, and that it pains His human nature when forgotten by us, for whom He has done such great things; but I do desire to be always in Christ, and He in me ; and I think in His mercy God is leading' my heart to seek more earnestly 'the unsearchable riches of Christ;' and yet there is still the remains of the old leaven working in my heart, and it is only the grace of God that restrains me. But how comforting the assurance that He will carry on His 'labour of love' in our souls, that He does not leave the issue in the least doubtful; for His having come to us, and made His abode with us, filling our hearts with peace and joy in believing, and causing them to 'abound with hope through the power of the Holy Ghost,' is a proof that we shall persevere unto the end, and leads us to believe that (notwitstanding our frail natures) we shall never perish, but being sealed with the 'Spirit of promise,' be kept through faith unto salvation, and preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
"I must not forget, dearest friend, to explain what I meant when I said that 'a sort of pride is apt to rise up in speaking even of our sins.' It is a fact that when I have spoken of my life (at least, the greater part of it) to those who were then living in the indulgence of those very sins (once the inmates of my heart), I have had such thoughts as those put into my mind (and it has more than once made me doubt my sincerity in referring to myself): 'Oh, yes, if you let them know that you were once like themselves, they will think the better of you for having led what they would call a bold, fearless, dashing life; they will admire your excessive humility, think you an extraordinary character, and so on. It is positively sickening to know that I have ever been guilty of such vile thoughts. But there is, thank God! a fountain ever open in which to wash and be clean.
"'When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.'
"It should ever be deeply humbling to the believer to make known a career of sin, although past, gone, and washed out for ever in the blood of the Lamb."
Kensington, May 3rd, 1854.
"I am going to Richmond to see my dear uncle this morning, so I have only just time to write a few lines. I have made it a rule never to read any letters before prayer, and until I have read and meditated on my morning portion of God's Word; but I was strongly tempted to break my resolution, when your letter was put into my hand this morning, and I can assure you it required no small self-denial and stern resistance to wishes, to put it aside till I had offered up my early sacrifice of prayer and thanksgiving. To tell you the truth, your letters have often made me break through this very rule, although I shall not, I hope, do so again, for I never enjoy any day that has not been commenced alone with God. I went to see your navvy at the hospital on Saturday afternoon, before I received your letter. I read a chapter, and had a pleasant chat with him for more than half an hour. He is, I think, rather weaker and thinner than when you saw him; but I believe his soul is prospering, thank God! He spoke most gratefully of you. I shall go and see him again soon.
"I also had a long conversation with another poor fellow. I found that he had been a boatswain in the navy for many years. He thanked me most heartily for having spoken to him as I wished him good-bye.
"I had intended talking to some of the other men, but an old woman came up in a threatening attitude, and told me; time was up;' so I was obliged to retire.
"I have just returned from Simm's, where I had my likeness taken. I think there are two for you to choose from, both as plain as life. I brought my great Halifax Bible to have its portrait taken, as you desired.
"Dr. Cay came to my room again yesterday, and we read together 2 Cor. v. I find it a great comfort to see and talk with such a dear child of God; and yet Jesus has often been more precious when, for days and weeks, I have not had one to speak to who could feel with me on the subject of religion, than when I have been thus blessed."
On the 6th of May he went down to Terling, to stand godfather to his sister's infant son. The impression left on the minds of all his family by this visit, which he knew to be his last before leaving England, was that of increased earnestness, amounting to solemnity. Twice, at Lord Rayleigh's request, he led the devotions at family prayers; and those who heard him bore away a conviction of his meetness for that state of which he spoke with holy longing: — "absent from the body, present with the Lord." His subject on the first day was 2 Cor. v., on the last Rev. xxii.
With his mother and sisters he held unreserved communion on the things which belonged to their peace. His second sister remembers that when pressing the duty of reading the Word of God with prayer before the work of the day began, he mentioned that whilst visiting his valued friends, Mr. and Mrs. Round, of Birch Hall, Essex, he had slept one morning later than usual, and had gone down to family prayers without having had time for his private devotions. "My soul was the worse for it," he said, "for nearly three weeks afterwards."
Affectionate as he had ever been, there was, during this last visit, a depth of quiet tenderness about him which, they now feel, was a mute prophecy that this was his last welcome home.
Very early in the morning of the day he left for London, he and his mother met for prayer. He knelt long by her side, pouring out his heart in pleading with God for her, that grace and strength might be given for every hour of need. Strengthened in spirit by that prayer, she was able, with his sisters, to accompany him as far as the station. The remembrance of his last embrace, his last look, his last blessing, enriches their hearts still, and makes the place of their parting seem almost holy ground.
A few days before the Light Company of the 97th left Kensington Barracks for their embarkation, I had an opportunity of conversing with some of the men. They spoke with great respect and affection for their favourite officer. One of them, named Reynolds, said, "Since Mr. Vicars became so good, he has steadied about four hundred men in the regiment."
"Four hundred!" was repeated with surprise.
"I don't mean that he has made all the four hundred as good as himself. That he couldn't. I know enough of religion to know that God alone could do that. But while he was Adjutant — and since too, he has sobered and steadied nigh four hundred of the drunkenmost and wildest men in the regiment. There isn't a better officer nor a better man in the Queen's service."
Within a few days of the departure of the 97th, he received an earnest request from those Crystal Palace workmen whom he had addressed at Beckenham from time to time, that he would give them a
few farewell words. We were all absent from home at the time, but a variety of details of the evening reached us in the graphic letters of these poor fellows. One of those letters will suffice here:
"Deptford, May 11th, 1854.
"Dear Lady — Last night I went to hear that blessed soldier and minister of Christ, Mr. Vicars, addressing the people at Beckenham, and I believe he was much admired by all his hearers; for my part, I never heard a man speak more like a humble, true follower of Christ than he did. But surely (as the words he dwelt much upon say) the love of Christ constraineth him. Oh that all our soldiers and sailors were as he is! Then our land would bring forth her increase, and God! even our own God, would give us his blessing; and God would go before us and fight our battles. But, alas! alas! we follow too much our own ways, and do things we ought not, and leave undone what we should do. Sometimes I think myself that I will try hard to live nearer to God, but perhaps before an hour is gone over, wicked thoughts cross my mind, and thus I sin against God. I feel my desires for good were strengthened last night, and I am right glad I went. I had a great desire to speak to him afterwards, but there were so many people round him, and I thought he had stopped as long as he could convenient. I ran all the way after the carriage. My hope was to see him at the station, but I was not in time to see which carriage he got into in the dark; so I did not see him; but I pray God he may ever be kept in Christ, and if it be God's will, return to his native land from this dreadful war in peace. If I knew where to find him at Kensington, I would go up to see him again.
"From your humble, grateful servant, and son in Jesus Christ,
"William Gregory."
Hedley Vicars himself wrote of this evening's work to his sister:
TO MISS VICARS.
"Kensington, Monday.
Ever Dearest Mary— Although I am much engaged in various ways, I must find time to write a few lines to you. I must begin by giving you an account of my visit to Beckenham. I had a most happy meeting there last Wednesday. As the Rectory was deserted, being under repair, Mrs. Millar kindly asked me to have tea at her house. She used to know dearest mother and Uncle Edward very well.
"At eight o'clock I started for the Reading-rooms, and found them filled. We began by singing that beautiful hymn, 'When I survey the wondrous cross,' and then I spoke to them, as well as I could, on those solemn words, "We must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ,' and 'The love of Christ constraineth us.' God enabled me to speak very freely, — more so than I ever remember before, — and my heart was much drawn out in love for their souls. I spoke for nearly an hour, and then prayed with them. They appeared to take a deep interest in what was said, and they took a most affectionate farewell of me.
"I went on Thursday evening to a meeting of the Ragged Church and Chapel Union, Lord Shaftesbury in the chair, where I met Mr. Blake, who showed me Clara's letter about the additional Testaments she is going to give to the men of the 97th. At the London Bridge Station I met William Gregory, one of Miss M—'s navvies, and we had a long talk, walking up and down, for a full hour.
"I went yesterday to hear Mr. Cadman preach at St. George's Church, Southwark. I setoff early to walk there, and arrived half an hour before the service began. So, having a little time to spare, I spent it in conversing with a cabman, I hope profitably. I heard a capital sermon from Mr. Cadman. He is an earnest, faithful preacher of Christ. He had invited me to luncheon at his house, and afterwards I went out with him to see the ragged schools, six in number. He seems almost weighed down under a sense of the great responsibility of his cure. His parish numbers 40,000 souls, mostly of the lowest poor. I said to him, 'You need Sir, often to have near and precious views of Jesus in your own soul to keep your spirit from desponding and your faith strong.' He said, 'Yes, it is only the thought of Him that supports us in our work; otherwise it would at times be overwhelming.' At parting, he warmly commended me to the grace of God. Would, dearest Mary, that both of us had the deep, unfeigned humility of this good man!
"In the evening I went to Park Chapel to hear Mr. Goodhart, of whose preaching Miss M— spoke in such very high terms. I found a nice walk through a shaded lane towards Chelsea. On emerging into the road I saw an old woman dressed in black, and asked her the way to Park Chapel. She said, 'Oh, Sir, I am going there; will you come with me? or, as I shall walk too slow for you, I will tell you the way.' I told her I would prefer accompanying her. We began talking together. She was loud in her praises of Mr. Goodhart, and said, 'Woe be to the man who sits under his preaching without being changed.' I mentioned another excellent man. She instantly said, 'Yes, he is a very good man, but he cannot hold a candle to this dear child of God.' When we arrived at the chapel she made me come into her pew. The chapel was quite full, and I never heard a more beautiful, powerful sermon in all my life — pure Gospel from beginning to end. I was rather amused several times by my old friend's saying, 'Ah, did you ever hear anything like that before?' What do you think of that? After the service, I told her I should like to say a few words to him about the Meeting of the Soldiers' Friend Society. She said, 'You shall see him; he is such a nice man to talk to,' and showed me the way to the vestry. I hesitated to go in, but she threw open the door and made me go in, I introduced myself to Mr. Goodhart, and he welcomed me most kindly. I found out what I wished to know about the Meeting, and wished him good night. I never saw the old woman in black again.
"I must conclude, as I have much to do. I have to go and see about my married soldiers' children. Warm love to all. Kiss my godchild for me. May the Lord Jesus be with you, and the Holy Spirit be poured upon you.
"Ever dearest Mary,
"Your devotedly attached brother,
"Hedley Vicars."
On the evening of Wednesday, the 17th, he attended the first public Meeting in Exeter Hall, for the Soldiers' Friend Society; in which he was warmly interested. Some of his men were also present.
He found time for the service of God, and for promoting the interests of His kingdom upon earth, without neglecting any of the last obligations of friendship before his final parting, and whilst occupied, almost from morning till night, in arranging and providing for the wives and children of the soldiers of the Light Company.
The order had come for the embarkation of his regiment on Friday in that week. The fulfilment of an old promise was now claimed by him, that we should meet him at the Waterloo Station, and cheer him with a last "God bless you!" there.
But on Thursday afternoon he sent a note by express, to say that they had just received orders to leave London at six o'clock; and that much as he had rested on the promise of this last act of friendship in England, he could not request its fulfilment, as the hour was so early.
It need not be said, that the hour was of no moment to those who loved him. By six o'clock we drove up to the Waterloo Station.
It was a lovely morning, that 19th of May. The sunshine, glittering on the bayonets of the men, as they marched up the steps to the station, seemed to mock the tears of wives, sisters, and friends who accompanied them.
I saw a young wife quit her hold of her husband's hand, and approach Hedley Vicars, with a manner of respectful confidence, as she said to him, "Oh, Mr. Vicars, you will see that Cottrell writes to me regular! won't you? It is my only comfort to know that you will."
The kindness and sympathy of his tone, as he answered her, told that her confidence was not misplaced.
Just then his brother arrived; and during the delay which followed before the train started, we read the 121st Psalm in the waiting-room. I remember the deep well of quiet confidence in his eye, as the words were repeated to him, "The Lord is thy keeper."
There was something in the tone of his voice that day which struck like a distant knell upon our hearts. It was a foreboding tone. However strongly hope may have sprung up afterwards, we felt at that moment that it was our last parting.
- ↑ Thomas Dibley, navvy, late of the Army Works Corps, died of cholera in the Crimea, August 28th, 1855. By the grace of God he did "hold on to the end."