Memorials of Capt. Hedley Vicars, Ninety-seventh Regiment by Marsh, Catherine, 1818-1912/Chapter 8
VIII.— THE HOSPITAL.
The path of Hedley Vicars for nearly three years past, had been as a shining light in the eyes of all who watched it. But during his last year upon earth it shone "more and more unto the perfect day."
Doubtless, for a heart at once so tender in its own feelings, and so intent on sustaining the spirits of others, there was a discipline of no light character in the partings he had just gone through, with a presage that they were final; and although the hopes of young, high-hearted manhood rose at times above that solemn foreboding, it ran like an under-current through the remainder of his course, and deepened his earnestness in pressing after the prize set before him.
Before the Orinoco sailed from the shores of England, he found time to pour forth the overflowings of his full heart in the following letters to his mother, and to one of the friends with whom he had last parted:
TO HIS MOTHER.
"On Board the Orinoco, May 19th, 1854.
" * * * I feel grateful to God for having given me so many kind Christian friends, but far above all, for having given me such a mother, whose prayers, I believe, God has answered in leading me for shelter and refuge to the cross of Christ. Do not, I beseech you, dearest mother, be the least anxious about me. I am in God's hands, therefore fear not for me. Nothing could make my hands stronger than knowing that your mind is at peace and quiet. We know that all things work together for our good, that Jesus loves us with an everlasting love, and that it is not only in health that he is with us, but when we come to die he will 'comfort us,' and bear us safely through the valley of the shadow of death."
"On Board the Orinoco, May 19th.
" * * * Here we are, thank God, safe and sound! We expect the headquarters from Windsor at twelve o'clock to-morrow; but it is doubtful whether we sail on Saturday evening or Sunday morning. And now, we thank you from my innermost soul for your precious letter. I could say but little this morning; and I feel now that I cannot half express my intense gratitude for all your many acts of true-hearted friendship. How very, very kind of you to drive so far to wish me a last farewell! God bless you, dearest friend, for this crowning proof of your affection, and reward you a thousand-fold for all you have done for me and mine. I left you with a heavy heart this morning, but your letter refreshed and comforted me very much. I read it over and over again. Thank you for the beautiful pencil-case; it is doubly valuable from having been long worn by you. I feel grateful to you for the interest you have taken in poor Cottrell's wife. I have desired him to write to her. Thank dearest —— from me for every kind word she spoke to soothe the sorrowing heart of that poor woman. Tell her that this morning, in my cabin, alone, I poured out my soul in prayer for her. . . . In this world we must expect trials and sorrows; indeed, I think we should soon cease to feel our constant need of Jesus if it were not so, and willingly, yes, joyfully, do I hail any cross that weans me more
from the world and leads me closer to Him.
"Excuse this hasty letter. I have everything to do on board, as the rest are on shore. I will write as often as I can, if not oftener! . . . . Jesus has given me a strong desire to devote my remaining days to His blessed service; and O, Heavenly Father, grant me thy Divine grace and mighty help that I may never bring dishonor on the sacred name of Christ! I often fear lest anything I say or do should have this effect. O, for a single eye to the glory of Jesus, that every act might spring from the motive of pure and unfeigned love to him! But beneath the cross we are, thank God, safe and secure. He will carry on the work He alone has begun in our hearts, even until the day of Jesus Christ. God bless you all, exceeding abundantly above all I can ask or think."
On board the Orinoco, Mediterranean, May 31st.
" * * * The day we left the Bay of Gibraltar the secret of our destination was divulged. We are to form part of an Anglo-French force in Greece, for the purpose of bringing King Otho to his senses. It is thought very probable that we shall eventually be sent on to Turkey, but it will be some months, at any rate, before this most desirable event can take place. Still I feel assured that everything is ordered by a wise and gracious Providence, and therefore, it must be for the best, however disappointing it may appear. We have had rather rough weather since we left England, but the last two or three days have been delightful. There are many draw backs on board ship, in a religious point of view, but I have had glimpses of Jesus, and found Him to be very precious to my soul. I have established a Bible reading class, which numbered six last Sunday — as many as the cabin could contain! With several of my brother officers, I have had most interesting conversations, and with some to whom I never spoke on religious subjects before: and I believe that in many a heart there is implanted a desire for that which the world cannot give. Some of them will not only listen attentively to what refers to their eternal welfare, but seem most anxious to renew the subject. God grant that this time of trouble and excitement may be made the means of awakening careless hearts, and leading them to Christ.
"June 1. — We are now in Malta Harbor, and expect to leave for the Piræus in an hour's time. A French frigate passed us this morning, the men turned up and cheered her most heartily, to which the Frenchmen responded as cordially."
TO HIS MOTHER.
"Piræus, June 3rd, 1854.
"Ever Dearest Mother — By God's mercy we have at length reached our destination. The Orinoco let go her anchor about three o'clock this afternoon. I got up very early this morning and went on deck. On either side of us was high, rocky land, and here and there were several islands, barren and uncultivated. We steamed past Athens; it is situated on the slope of a hill, with high mountains stretching away on both sides. As we kept out a considerable distance from land, we could not distinguish much. In an hour we entered the harbor of the Piræus, and here the scene that presented itself was very novel. We had scarcely anchored, when the rigging of the Leander, a British frigate, was swarming with her crew, who welcomed us with loud hurrahs; answering cheers pealed from a thousand throats, and scarcely had they died away, when the band of the French flag-ship, the Gomer, struck up 'God save the Queen,' and the men clustered like bees in the rigging, waving their straw caps, and cheering most heartily Vive l'Empereur sounding plain and distinct from the quarter-deck of the Orinoco, was the signal for renewed and long continued cheering. Hardly had they ceased, when all else was drowned in the thundering of the saluting cannon. * * *
The Piræus is surrounded by hills, the slopes of which are thickly studded with the tents of the French; indeed they appear to be everywhere. They have a guard at the entrance of the harbor, and several outposts in the town. * * * I thank God that, notwithstanding many obstacles in various ways, He has given me the power to keep near to Jesus; indeed, I feel more than ever the comfort of religion. Pray for me, dearest mother, that I may be keep faithful unto the end. This is indeed a poor world without Christ. God bless you, dearest, best of mothers, and may you be 'filled with the Holy Ghost.'"
TO MISS VICARS.
Magazine Guard, Piræus, June 22nd.
"My Darling Mary — Being on guard to-day, I take the opportunity of writing to you, as here I have both a table and chair, and my tent can boast of neither. The heat is excessive, the thermometer being 100° in the shade. You have no idea what lassitude and disinclination for exertion creep over one; but I fight against it as well as I can. I have not yet seen Athens by day; but on the 13th, I started about sunset with a young brother officer, to have a moonlight view of the Acropolis. After a dusty walk of six miles we reached the famous city. We walked about the streets for upwards of an hour, and met several Greek soldiers armed with firelock and sword, some of whom looked rather savagely at us. Not knowing our way up to the ruins of the Acropolis, we should have had some difficulty in finding it, when luckily we met a Greek to whom we had given a free passage from Malta, and who spoke English tolerably well. He showed us the way up the mountain. When we readied its summit we passed through a low archway which led to a small wicket gate, barred and locked. On knocking we were roughly challenged by a sentry, whom we had evidently aroused from his peaceful slumbers! When our guide explained that we were English officers, the door was quickly opened. We went up several marble steps, and found ourselves in the venerable ruins of the Acropolis. I never saw so magnificent a sight. The full moon was shining in pale splendour; high massive columns in good preservation, stood out in bold relief; whilst others, shattered by the Turkish cannon, during the last war, or mouldering from age, scarcely reared their heads above the marble pavement. But such a scene loses by description. I had brought my Testament, in the hope that we could read a quiet chapter together, on the spot when Paul once preached 'Jesus Christ, and Him crucified;" but the chattering guide and inquisitive guard who accompanied us, prevented our having this pleasure. From an old embrasure, about two hundred feet above the town, we had a beautiful view of Athens. I could have remained there for hours. Oh, how I wish you could have been with us!
"I enjoyed so much my first walk to Athens that the next night I went there again with another officer, and read Acts xvii., on "Mar's Hill," by moonlight. We did not reach the Piræus till half-past two in the morning! While we were away the Camp had a false alarm. One of the sentries observed what he thought to be a large body of armed men approaching; and, giving the alarm, the men were quickly out of the tents, and, amidst great confusion, began loading their muskets, &c. After they had formed in column—the French on each side being also under arms—a party was sent to reconnoitre, when the enemy was discovered to be a large drove of oxen with their drivers!
We expect to move into barracks in a day or two, which will be much more pleasant.
"Dearest Mary, how it increases my love for you to know that you are seeking after the same Saviour, that you are following after Jesus,
'Oh, may we ever walk in Him.
And nothing know beside,
Nothing desire, nothing esteem,
But Jesus crucified.
"A few of us have met together on different occasions in one of the tents, and twice under the rocks for reading the Scriptures: but when we get into barracks, I hope we shall be able to have a regular meeting every day, as we did on board the Orinoco. One or two of those who are entering on the Christian course have much to encounter in the way of ridicule, but God will give them strength and courage.
"I have nothing to put up with in this way now; the worst, by far the worst, of all my real enemies, I find to be my own evil heart; and it is in conquering and overcoming this that the grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit are shown in all their magnitude and restraining force.
"Best love to you all, and to the chicks. My love to dear Miss Strutt. God bless you all. May we be kept close to Jesus.
"Ever, dearest Mary, your most deeply attached and affectionate brother,
"Hedley,"
"Piræus, July 2d, 1854."
"Heaven's blessing upon you dearest friend, for your precious letters. I cannot tell you with what delight I hailed your handwriting. Immediately I sallied forth, to my cave under the rocks, where I had the rich enjoyment of reading them undisturbed. How I long, with you, to have my heart more entirely given up to my blessed Saviour, to have every thought brought into obedience to Him, and that the fruits of the Holy Spirit may prove the reality of my faith, making me more humble, more holy, more heavenly-minded! Often do I fear, lest by word or deed I should bring dishonor on the name of Him we love; but yet I feel a quiet confidence that He will keep me by his grace and power, and enable me to persevere to the end. There is indeed great peace, in simply believing, living upon Jesus. What peaceful, happy hours are those when Christ is the sole meditation of the heart; and even when earthly thoughts intrude, or darkness fills the soul for a time, how sweet to recollect that 'He knoweth our name; He remembereth that we are dust!'"
Piræus, July 11th.
"How I bless God for his tender love and mercy in restoring your beloved sister. I speak but the truth of my heart, when I say that in all your sorrow I suffer, and in all your comfort I am comforted.
"I had very strong faith that God would spare her precious life, and restore her to health. May every answer to our prayers make us, in dependence upon Christ, wrestle the more earnestly in every fresh petition, especially for heavenly blessings upon our souls. So shall we have power with God, and shall prevail. I have heard prayer ridiculed, and insinuations thrown out that only men of weak minds ever pray. Little do those who thus speak know the real delight of prayer, nor the deep joy when the answer comes.
"'What various hindrances we meet,
In conning to a mercy-seat!
Yet who that knows the worth of prayer,
But wishes to be often there?'
"But what a thought to fill our minds, when we approach a throne of grace — that Jesus is pleading for us, and that our prayers are His.
"I greatly like the passage from Captain A's letter, and rejoice in the hope that he has chosen Christ Jesus for his portion, or rather that Jesus has chosen him 'before the foundation of the world,' and written his name 'in the book of Life' Tell him, in seeking and following Jesus, he will find peace and rest to his soul. A hard struggle it will be at first but ere long he will find his Saviour's words to be true, 'My yoke is easy and my burden is light.'
" * * * Often do I join you in spirit at your cottage reading and sacred prayer meetings. What happy hours are those when, shut out from all that makes the world unlovely, we can enjoy uninterrupted communion with the Lord's people! it is so refreshing to know that Jesus is precious to other souls. The Christian does not want a monopoly of that love. There is enough and to spare for all. Oh, that my comrades would be wise: that they would taste and see, ere they talk lightly of the lore of Christ, or rob Him of the glory of their souls' redemption, purchased by the atoning blood of his Cross! Would that, not only they, but every living man, drawn by redeeming love, would let the Redeemer 'see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied!'
"We generally get a few together for Bible reading in the afternoon. Nares has been ill; I have had many a delightful talk with him on subjects that used to be of little interest to either of us.
"I saw a Greek funeral the other day; it was a horrid sight. The corpse dressed like a bride, with trinkets and ornaments, and a wreath of flowers round the head, was carried through the streets in an open coffin. Three or four fat dirty-looking priests holding large crosses, led the procession, without even a mock air of grief, but looking rather jolly than otherwise.
"I must now conclude, for it is just midnight. You can have no idea how the musquitoes have been biting me under the table, ever since I began writing. Macgregor paid me a visit to-day; he is quite a young fellow; I like him very much; we have had many conversations together; he is another proof of the untold blessing of having a pious mother, and a pious father too. * * *
"Give my love to that dear old Christian, Mrs. Kipping, and thank her for her prayers. Tell me how poor Mr. B. is? I shall never forget his telling me one day, with tears in his eyes, 'I cannot believe! I want to believe! I have often prayed for him since." . . .
TO DR. TWINING.
"Piræus, Greece, July 19th, 1854.
" . . . I thank you from my innermost soul dearest friend, for the comfort and peace I now enjoy: for leading me (as the instrument in God's hands) to Jesus. And now, having tasted that the Lord is gracious — having known somewhat of the love of Christ, I would endeavour to win my fellow sinners to Him — from vanity to real enjoyment.
"Jesus is very precious to my soul — my All in all. Often have I been on the point of falling away, and yet His arm has held me up, and kept me from bringing dishonour on His blessed name! To Him be all the praise and glory.
"Seasons of despondency and gloom I have had, but my consolations have abounded also, and I trust that 1 am seeking tor more conformity to Jesus in my life and conversation, through the mighty help of His ever-blessed Spirit. But with St. Paul, often in the agony of my soul am I forced to cry out, 'Oh, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' Yet with whom also I can say, 'I thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.' * * *
"We are quartered here with the French, who have upwards of 4,000 men. They are in tents; we are now in barracks. The weather is very hot, and the climate bad. We are now in quarantine, as the cholera has broken out amongst the French. They have lost two officers and one hundred men. We have not lost a man; but it is a solemn time, and loudly calls upon each of us, 'Prepare to meet thy God.'
"I feel very much being debarred from the means of grace and from the communion of the Lord's people; but Jesus more than makes up for every loss. There have been happy moments, when He has been very near, and when I felt that I should wish to depart and be with Him."
To the same beloved and honoured friend (of whom, with every member of his family, Hedley Vicars ever retained the most affectionate remembrance) he had previously addressed these words, which forcibly expressed the deliberate choice of his soul:
"I would not, for all the world could give me, go back to my former state. I have gained immeasurably more than I have given. In exchange for fleeting pleasures now, I have hopes of lasting joys, which mortal eye hath never seen, nor ear heard of, nor heart can conceive, I have been brought into friendship with God, through the merits and precious bloodshedding of my Redeemer and the influence of the Holy Ghost. And in place of an aching heart, I have tasted of a peace which passeth understanding."
Hedley Vicars was now to enter on the most solemn period of his life. To those who watch the guidings of the Divine hand, it will be scarcely necessary to point out the wisdom of that Providence which led him to Greece, and kept him there throughout the awful prevalence of the cholera and malignant fever — a visitation which, within the space of thirty-four days, deprived his regiment of one hundred and twenty of his ablest and finest men.
As no spiritual instruction was provided for either Protestant or Roman Catholic soldiers, the field was his own. He began his work by undertaking the command of funeral parties for other officers, who gladly relinquished to him a task so little congenial to their feelings. In this way he obtained frequent opportunities of addressing the living around the graves of the dead, warning them to flee from the wrath to come, and beseeching them to close at once with efforts of free pardon and mercy from that divine Redeemer who is "the life of them that believe, and the resurrection of the dead."
On the first of these solemn occasions his heart was too full for words, yet the tears which stifled his voice had an eloquence of their own for the brave men around him. They reckoned not the less confidentially on his dauntless courage in every hour of danger.
"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin."
The solemn and tender tone of his own feelings communicated itself to them, and thus were their hearts opened to receive the message he so longed to deliver:
It was "the love of Christ constraining" him, and no mere sense of duty, which led Hedley Vicars to spend the greater part of his days, and often of his nights, in the pestilential air of the crowded hospitals —
"Seeking as men seek for riches,
Painful vigils by the bed
Where the sick and dying stretches
Aching limbs beside the dead."
Dearer than life to him was the hope of persuading the dying to look to Jesus, remembering the breadth of the promise, "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all ye ends of the earth." And doubly did he prize the opportunity, when the lighting up of a dying eye at the name of Jesus assured him he was ministering to one of the brethren of his Lord, for he was not unmindful of the words, "I was sick, and ye visited me."
Whilst thus intently occupied in promoting the spiritual welfare of the men of his regiment, he was no less keenly alive to the best interests of his brother officers. Although open opposition on the part of those who differed from him in religious opinion had long ceased, he did not know until now how firm was his hold on their feelings and confidence. When laid aside by illness, they all welcomed his visits, and generally asked him to repeat them. The reality of his religion was now proved beyond all question. It had been weighed in the balances with mere worldly motives of action, and had not been found wanting. Confidence could no longer be with- held from principles which had subdued to thoughtful tenderness for the souls of those around, a spirit amongst the most buoyant and dauntless of them all.
"I have been thinking over the time we spent at the Piræus," writes a young brother officer in whom Hedley Vicars was warmly interested, "and will tell you of anything which strikes me. I was constantly with Vicars there, and know what his daily life was better, perhaps, than any one else. But about that it is difficult to say more than that he never tor a moment seemed to forget 'whose he was.' When we were in camp, on first landing, he was in the habit of going out alone for hours amongst the rocks on the sea-shore, having only his Bible, which, I remember his telling me. Dr. Marsh called 'his sword.'
"As you know, of course, there was no chaplain for the English troops there. The chaplain attached to the English Legation at Athens came over to the Piræus at first to perform a short service in one of the barrack-rooms, but as soon as the sickness broke out he was not allowed to come. Part of the service was generally read on Sunday, by the officers to the men of their companies; and the officers, in rotation, took the duty, morning and evening of burying the dead, which sometimes, of our English regiment only, exceeded ten daily. Hedley Vicars undertook this duty several times for others, and seldom, if ever, performed it without adding a few earnest words to the men present. Soon after the sickness broke out he used regularly to visit the hospitals, reading and praying with the dying men, and taking every opportunity of speaking of the 'one thing needful' to others. In these visits to the hospitals he was sometimes accompanied by two or three of his brother officers, one of whom, Major Colville, has since died in the Crimea.
"With all his zeal, he was ever careful to avoid giving offence. I have known him to erase passages which seemed to speak harshly of Roman Catholics from tracts he was about to distribute generally amongst the men. Much as he abhorred Popery, he had the greatest tenderness for the feelings of Roman Catholics. His constant kindness and sympathy for all, of any creed, and whether officers or men, is not easily to be described. When others were depressed, he was always hopeful. His spirits were hardly ever cast down.
"All these things you must have heard from others. The most remarkable thing about him — his great consistency of life and conversation, with his entire devotion to the one cause ever set before him — I seem to be unable to put into words."
The history of this solemn time is more fully given in his own earnest letters,
"Piræus, July 2lst, 1854.
" * * * I know that what I have to tell you will cause you great anxiety; but the newspapers will give you all particulars, whether I do so or not. The cholera has been raging here. For some time it was with the French alone; but the day before yesterday we lost one man, and since then, nine have been carried off by it. O, dearest friends, pray that this fearful visitation may be the means of awakening solemn thoughts in the stoutest hearts amongst my thoughtless comrades, and leading them for pardon, peace, and safety to Jesus the Saviour of sinners. Do not be alarmed for me. Remember God's delight in answering prayer, and surely no man has such praying friends as I have. How often the happy hours we have passed together come before me, and I wonder whether we shall ever have them over again! * * * Should I die now, you know my only ground of hope, my only confidence, my only assurance is in the cross of Jesus Christ and in the knowledge that 'the precious blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin:' — words as full of sweetness and of consolation to me now as on the day when they were first made to my soul, 'the power of God unto salvation.' Death in this form, at all events, has its gloom even for Christians, but then the sting, yes the sting, is for them completely taken away."
"Piræus, July 25th.
" * * * Death has been busy amongst our poor fellows since I last wrote to you. Twenty-seven have died in seven days. I am quite well, thank God, although in low spirits. How can it be otherwise, seeing so many for whom I had a regard cut off thus suddenly? Several of the officers of my regiment have been ill with fever. They have been mercifully spared from cholera hitherto.
"Do you remember poor young Reynolds, the soldier whom you noticed particularly when you gave the hymn-books to the men at Kensington Barracks, and those kind words of parting counsel which they have never forgotten? I buried him and another comrade last night. I had intended speaking a few words to ray men over the open graves of their dead messmates; but it was as much as I could do to get through the service; and as soon as I began to speak to them afterwards I could not for the life of me help crying like a child. The men cried and sobbed around me. It was of no use to try to go on, so I ordered them to 'fall in,' and we went mournfully back to the barracks.
"Morning and evening the dead-cart leaves the hospital for the grave-yard. It is all very sad and solemn, but 'there is a silver lining to the darkest cloud.' I believe that to many this dread visitation of the Almighty has taught a lesson which I trust and hope never will be forgotten. Alas! that so few have the comfort of religion, the knowledge of Jesus Christ! With some of my brother officers I have lately had most earnest conversations, and they have promised to come to my room that we may read the Bible together. O, that I may be enabled to speak a word in season to their souls, and by my poor feeble testimony to His tenderness and love, lead them to that precious Saviour who died for sinners! We meet for prayer every evening, with peculiar reference to the removal of this grievous sickness, if it please God, and for the gift of His Holy Spirit to sanctify this visitation."
"July 26th. — Since I wrote the above, five more have died. One of them was my former servant, poor Hillyar. I took the service for the officer whose turn it was to command the funeral party, and said a few words to the soldiers who were standing around the graves, and asked them to join in prayer with me. I heard the voices of many, broken by their sobs. Not one of these fine fellows would hesitate to face a cannon's mouth or mount the deadly breach, yet they shrink from the fearful ravages of this unseen foe. Will you all pray for my regiment? Pray for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon them. Few are as yet prepared to die. God bless and keep you all. In the midst of these gloomy scenes I think as often as ever of L—— , and, if possible, with even more overflowing thankfulness and love."
"Piræus, August 12th.
" * * * One hundred and five have died since the cholera broke out; most of them were amongst the finest, healthiest fellows in the regiment. I have many opportunities now of speaking both to officers and men, and trust and believe, in some cases, not without benefit. I have taken the duty of burying the dead several times out of my turn, as some of the officers have rather an objection to it, and I have been enabled to speak to the men after the service. They endeavour to join me in prayer very earnestly around those open graves. As all the officers, excepting myself and two others have been ill either with fever or modified cholera, I have regularly gone to read with them; and all are kind, whilst many seem cordially to desire more of it. In one or two cases, from what I knew of the men when well, I thought the subject of Christ crucified might not be liked; but it was just contrary! The very fellows whom I had most fear about speaking to were those who listened most attentively and seemed to be the most interested.
"In my own soul I have enjoyed a peaceful happy time leaning on Jesus. It is true this is a spiritual desert, but seldom have I had more hungerings and thirstings after Christ and holiness. With David I can say, 'My soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee, in a dry and thirsty land where no water is.' But you have taught me not to be selfishly engrossed with my own spirit, but to seek to have my soul drawn out to the hungry, to seek diligently after wandering sheep; and the deeper one's anxiety the deeper one's interest and delight in the work. Your precious letters help and sustain me. God bless you for them. * * * N—— is most interesting to me now. Trusting in the strength of Jesus, I believe his mind is made up 'to follow the Lord wholly.' He comes to my room every evening, and we generally walk together. Four companies have gone to the hills for change of air. I never was better in my life, though, of course, not quite so strong as when I left old England."
"Piræus, August 18th.
" * * * About seventy of my hundred and seven comrades who have died of cholera were men whom I well knew, as they entered the service about the same time that I did. I do hope that some, nay, that many, amongst them were enabled to look to Jesus in their last moments. God grant we may find such to have been the case when we all meet at the last day.
"Poor Cottrell has been ill again, but is recovering. The Scripture reading is in the ward where he is, and he is very attentive, as indeed they all are. The day before yesterday, whilst going round the wards, I noticed one poor young fellow who had been admitted about an hour before. His eyes were sunken, and his hollow cheek and blackened face proclaimed that this fearful disease had seized upon him with the grasp of death. I spoke to him for a little while, and then passed on to others. The next day his bed was empty. Ono of the orderlies told me that he suffered much in his mind before he died. He had his senses to the last, which is very unusual. It appears that he had been a Protestant, but became a pervert to the church of Rome. He expressed a wish to die in his former faith, and asked one of the men for a Prayer-book. Not one was at hand. He then said, 'Read me the first chapter of the Gospel of St. John.' At its close, he said he felt much relieved in his mind, and died. Oh! we will believe that he was enabled to 'behold the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.' I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I was not there. One of the orderlies would have come for me, but not one could be spared from the hospital.
"Last Sunday one of ray brother officers was attacked with cholera, but he has, thank God, got over it. I went to see him several times, and talked to him about Jesus. Every time I went he told me how glad he was of it. I write a line by every mail now to tell you of my safety. I am enjoying great peace of soul, resting on Jesus, on him alone."
"Piræus, August 21st, 22d.
"No one can fancy in England what the arrival of the mail is here, nor the power of letters like yours to cheer one's heart when all around is gloom and death. Your letters arid your prayers have nerved me to do many things which otherwise I should not perhaps have attempted. I feel that lean never tell you what a blessing God has made you to me in every way. It was you who first raised in my heart a really strong desire to save souls, to win fellow-sinners to the cross of Jesus Christ, not as a mere duty, but as the heart's delight. I cannot express how deeply grateful I feel towards you, best and dearest of all my earthly friends. But God knows and hears my poor prayers for you. * * *
"You will be thankful to hear there is a decrease of cholera. The last man we have lost (one of the Light company) was admitted into hospital last night. Poor fellow, he suffered most dreadfully; it was quite painful to stand by his bedside. I remained with him for nearly an hour, and spoke to him from time to time of Jesus Christ. But whenever the cramps came on, his screams quite drowned my voice. On leaving him I shook hands with him (his were black and cold), and told him to 'behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world,' to look to Jesus, whose blood cleanseth from all sin. When I mentioned the name of Jesus he gave me such a wonderful look, full of peace and resignation. In less than four hours afterwards his soul had fled.
"Only fifteen are in hospital now with cholera; the fever hospital is still crowded; but I should think no disease, except the plague, can be so horrible as Asiatic cholera. I saw its ravages in Jamaica, but that which has raged here seems to have been of a more virulent nature, and death has come on more rapidly; it so alters the countenance that often I have been quite unable to recognize dying men whom I found, on asking their names, that I knew very well.
"My Scripture-reading and Prayer Meeting at the hospital is better attended than ever. Last Sunday I read the twelfth chapter of Hebrews in one of the wards; and after talking to the men about it, felt my heart drawn out earnestly in prayer for their souls. My chief my only subject with them, is Jesus, and it is a theme of which I hope never to grow tired. May God the Holy Ghost bless my feeble words to their immortal souls, for Jesus Christ's sake!
"I want to persuade all the men of my regiment that nothing would ever give me greater pleasure than to read and pray with them, at any hour, day or night, when any of them are ill and dying, if they would only send an orderly to let me know.
"With Cottrell, who is still in hospital, I have had many earnest conversations. Corporal Farmer, whom I mentioned to you, is slowly sinking of consumption; he is very peaceful, resting all his hopes on Jesus. The men both in hospital and barracks, have read most eagerly the tracts which I have distributed amongst them. Captain Trotter added largely to my stock; but I have not one too many. I hope and pray that they may be the means of leading numbers to search the Scriptures.
"Thank the villagers at Beckenham for their prayers for us. God bless them all."
Piræus, August, 23d.
" * * * God has answered prayer for me — both for body and soul. Tell dear Mr. Chalmers how very grateful I am to him for praying for me at his prayer-meeting for the army.
"The cholera has again broken out in my poor regiment. Last night poor S—— , of my Company, a fine powerful young man, was admitted into hospital; he had been an orderly attending on cholera patients, and had therefore seen many die. I went to see him several times in the course of the night, but he would not speak or listen to me; he died soon after I left him for the last time, and was buried this morning."
August 26th, half-past 11 P.M.
"Nine men have died since the 23d — four from the Light Company. We have suffered more severely than any. Last night I was at the hospital four or five times. I went especially to see Egan, an old soldier, who had been seventeen years in my Company. Poor fellow! he was so grateful; he said, when I wished him good bye for the last time, 'God bless you, Sir; and may the blessings of an old man rest upon your head, for coming to see and talk with an old comrade, when stretched out like this. Yes, Sir, and you have the blessing of every man in the regiment.' I just tell you what he said, because it will give you pleasure. I feel myself that I have not done a quarter of what I ought to have done.
"I had hardly got home from seeing Egan, when I received a message by an orderly from a young drummer, who wanted to see me again. He was very ill of cholera, when I had spoken to him before; but it was thought that he would recover. I hurried to the hospital, but the lad was insensible. However, I offered up a prayer over his bed, the men taking off their caps, and joining in, as well as they could follow me. He died soon afterwards.
"Sergeant Jackson was brought into hospital at eleven o'clock this morning; he was a man I knew very well — much liked amongst the officers. I went twice to-night to see him. The second time his bed was empty. One hundred and eighteen are now dead; all men in the prime and vigour of manhood, except a few lads.
"The French are still dying in great numbers every day. They have lost 700 men and five officers, out of their small force in Greece. The townspeople are clearing out as fast as possible. Yesterday 500 left. The streets are quite deserted except by French and English soldiers.
"Another company of ours started for Mount Pentelicus the day before yesterday. I accompanied them about three miles. Nares went with them; he did not like to leave me, and I feel lonely now he is gone, for he was with me at all hours of the day.
"Obert is the Captain of the Company which has just left: he was very ill, but thank God! he is recovering, dear fellow.
"I am so grateful to hear that we are remembered in prayer by those blessed Christians at Huntly Lodge. The Lord reward them!"
"Sunday, August 27.
"Our Scripture-reading and Prayer-meeting at the hospital are still well attended. I always feel refreshed and strengthened myself, whilst talking of Jesus to others. Surely there is no subject so delightful to a sinner as 'Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.' God grant that his love may lead many — all in my regiment — to take up their Cross, and follow Him. I daily find Him to be more lovely and precious to my own soul. What I want now, whilst I have the opportunity, is, to make others as happy as myself; for well I know, from long and bitter experience, that until the blood of the Cross speaks peace to the soul, man is, for the most part, but discontented and miserable. And if this is the case when we are strong and healthy, how much more so, when sick or dying! Men often talk with unconcern of a dying bed, when they think it distant, and refuse to 'give way to weakness,' as they call it, by thinking of it in time; but it is seldom the dream continues to the end; and when the reality flashes upon them, it is sometimes too late! Although even at the very last, Jesus is ready to save, yet not a few give up all as lost, and die in despair.
"But we will hope better things, dearest friend, for the men of my poor regiment, and continue to pray that the Dayspring from on high, which hath visited us, by the free grace and mercy of God, may be shed abroad over them all, 'to give light to them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death, and to guide their feet into the way of peace.' God grant it, for Jesus Christ's sake.
"It was not my servant whom you saw at Kensington, who died of cholera, but a man named Hillyar, who left me about a year ago. Richard Young, I am glad to say, is well. I often see him reading the book you gave him.
"I am advised to go to Pentelicus for a few days' change, but have not made up my mind to it, as I have plenty to do here. Certainly I shall not go as long as the cholera remains here. It is, I trust, leaving us now; but such has been its malignity that only twenty of those who have been attacked with it have come out of hospital alive.
"The army in Turkey has also suffered severely from the pestilence. Rumours are now afloat that we are to be sent on thither. We all desire it most heartily.
"God bless you all.
"Ever most beloved friend and sister, your most attached and grateful brother,
"Hedley Vicars."
"The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him, and he will show them His covenant." That covenant is "of life and peace," — words which had their peculiar charm for Hedley Vicars. There was no morbid weariness of existence in him. Love and hope were strong in his heart, and the future had its own bright pictures before his imagination. Death in itself, was not a thing which he desired; he delighted in viewing it as a "mere incident in life." His soul was kept in peace amidst "nothing but death, death on every side" (to use his own expression), because he knew and felt that "he that hath the Son of God hath life;" and with love to that Saviour rising above all other love, he could then write —
"Death is dreaded as a fearful thing to go through; but I think, with Jesus very near me, I could welcome it to-morrow. The prospect of meeting in a few hours that glorious Saviour, whose love we can never conceive here in all its magnitude, makes me long 'to depart and be with Christ.'"
By the beginning of September the cholera had disappeared from the Piræus. Only the 103d Psalm now seemed to furnish words warm enough for the language of his grateful heart. For a time he was cheered by the hope that the impression left by this visitation on the minds of a large number of his regiment was deep and effectual; but towards the close of that month, we find him thus writing —
"Whilst I see, and bless God for it, a great and visible change in many yet, alas! in numbers it grieves me to perceive that solemn impressions are vanishing like 'the morning cloud or early dew.' To some of those I have spoken; and if I chance to meet them when alone, they express sorrow and regret for their ingratitude to the God of all their mercies; and I believe they often mean (in a kind of way) what they say; but when several congregate together, each becomes afraid of what his comrade will think of him, until it seems to be the careful endeavour of all to appear as little serious as possible! But whilst I write this, I feel as bad myself; for, oh! what weak gratitude, what cold love have I too often felt, to that great Father who has preserved me through all the dangers which lately surrounded me, even from 'the pestilence that walked in darkness, and the destruction that wasted at noonday.'
"And then again, with regard to his infinitely greater love in sparing not His own Son, to obtain eternal redemption for us, I sometimes think I am one of 'the nine' who 'returned not to give glow to God;' and those words of Jesus seem spoken of me, in touching tones of reproach, 'Were there not ten cleansed? But where are the nine?' Oh! how often when, by the eye of faith, I see Him on the cross, or lying dead in the tomb, I am pained to the quick by the coldness of my evil heart, and with the weariness and want of love with which I remember Jesus.' Should He have to ask us to remember Him ? The promptings of our hearts should ever be, 'I cannot forget Thee!'
"But we know, through the teaching of God the Holy Ghost, that we should never have thought of Jesus at all, or have loved Him in the least, if He had not first loved us, and revealed himself to our souls. Therefore, whilst we mourn (I, at least, find need to do so often) over our own hearts, we can, and will, and do rejoice 'with joy unspeakable' in the never-changing, never-dying love of Jesus Christ, our blessed Saviour."
* * * * * * * * *
"I had a charming trip to Pentelicus. The tents are pitched under fine lofty trees, large hills completely surrounding the camp on every side. Mountain torrents dash through the midst of it, and baths have been constructed both for officers and men. I enjoyed my few days there very much, and thought how perfect it would have been to me if L—— had been with me, to enjoy the wild scenery and glorious moonlight. But on this subject I have enlarged to herself. I was gratified by seeing the change which had taken place in one of my young brother officers, with whom I formerly joined in many a wild frolic. I remember his once saying to me [I think it was at Canterbury], when I had spoken to him earnestly about his soul, 'Oh, Vicars, my dear fellow, I believe in a call, and am only waiting for a call. It is plain enough you have had one. Why, the other day you were pulling down lamp-posts with me; and now just look at you!' But I trust that in a severe fever which he had here, he learnt that the 'call' was ever sounding in his ears, if he would listen to it — 'Whosoever will, let him drink of the water of life freely!"
"I often feel myself a weak and helpless creature when defending the glorious truth as it is in Jesus' against the arguments of men for whom he died, who yet deny Him. But I never enter into discussion without first seeking the light and aid of the Holy Spirit to guide and direct me, so that every word may be according to 'the mind of Christ' — 'speaking the truth in love.' To men of my own age, I can now speak more boldly than I could a little while ago. But I do find it very hard to say anything on these subjects to an old man. I pray to be enabled to do so, when the occasion comes, with courage, but always with deference and respect.
"I have lately had some conversation with one of my brother officers who began the Christian course about the same time as I did, but became a sceptic afterwards. I think I see a re-awakening. Oh! help me in praying that soon, 'in returning and rest, he may be saved;' that accepting the mercy which the Gospel reveals, he may soon find the reality, the joy, the delight of the religion of Jesus Christ.
"Thank and bless all who have prayed for me and my regiment during the time of the pestilence. Especially thank your beloved friend, Mrs. Mackenzie and her family, and Dr. Tetley and their friends, for their united prayer on our behalf. Who knows but that I may some day have the pleasure of thanking them myself? One day, by the grace of God, I shall."
TO MISS VICARS.
" * * * It is a very gloomy day, the sky black and lowering, and the rain descending in torrents. I was meditating just now on this bleak scene of cheerless solitude — my only companion a little quail?—and thinking over the strange and often appaling sights my eyes have looked upon, in the realities of death and the grave, since God called me here. As these ideas floated through my mind, the train of my thoughts suddenly changed, and the dismal view without, and the cold and dreary room I occupy, brought before me the Man of Sorrows' — Jesus — who once weathered the stormy tempest for you and for me, and of whom it may be said, from the manger to the grave, that He had not 'where to lay his head.' It is soothing to the soul, in seasons of cloud and distress, to know that Jesus has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows, and to rest on the tender kindness of Him who has said, 'As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you.'
"'Jesus lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the billows near me roll,
While the tempest still is high:
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life is past:
Safe into the haven guide!
Oh! receive my soul at last.'
"Oh! dearest Mary, it is well to have the love of Jesus Christ in its reality in our hearts. What solid peace and rich enjoyment we obtain by 'looking unto Jesus!' Where else shall we behold the boundless love of our Heavenly Father?
"What else could have led me to the side of men dying of pestilence, for how could I have spoken to these poor suffering creatures of the love of God, but by 'looking unto Jesus?' And to whom could I implore them to look, but Jesus? Baptismal regeneration, church privileges, the sacramental system, confession, and priestly absolution may do for some people when in health, but no smile of joy from a sick man, I believe would ever be the fruit of such miserable comforters in the last hour. When a dying man can say or feel, 'I know that my Redeemer liveth,' he wants no more; it is Jesus he thirsts for and longs to hear about. I have witnessed the effect of even the name of Jesus. I have noticed a calm and peaceful look pass more than once over the ghastly face of the dying as that blessed name passed my lips. May we not hope, dearest sister, that (as it was with the dying thief) even at the hour of death, faith in the blood of Jesus, breathed into the soul by the Holy Ghost, has set more jewels in the Redeemer's crown from among the soldiers of the 97th Regiment? God grant that when you and I are summoned before the bar of Christ we may meet many such, 'clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands!'
"It is sad to think what harm even well-intentioned people may do by wandering away from the cross in their dealings with sick men. I remember I used often to visit at Halifax a Corporal Craney, of the 42d Highlanders, who was left behind in Hospital when his regiment went away. One evening when I went to see him, he said to me, 'I am so glad you are come. Sir, for you always speak to me of Him of whom I love to hear, even Jesus my precious Saviour. But just now, Sir, I had a visit from a gentleman, who laid to me, with a loud voice and harsh tone, "Now, are you sure you have repented of your sins? Are you certain you are not deceiving yourself?"' Now, is not this worse than useless, when a man has given clear evidence of repentance and living faith? When one has reason to suspect the sincerity of a man who professes faith in Jesus, then, still keeping before his eyes the cross of Christ to prevent despair, probe and search him deeply, and endeavour to make him examine himself; but never open a wound without instantly giving the remedy. There are hypocrites in the world, we all know — men who, while they talk with earnestness of their love to the Saviour, yet virtually crucify Him in their lives; and much scandal is brought by them on the Church of Christ. But it is not the preaching of a free Gospel, as some suppose, that makes them so, but their own total ignorance of the saving doctrines of the cross, and of the power of the Holy Ghost upon their hearts.
"I do not think I ever told yon of Craney's happy death. Shortly before he breathed his last, he asked Dr. Twining to read Romans viii. to him. As he read, the dying man's breath became shorter and his face brighter; and as the last words fell upon his ear, 'Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord' — he said, 'Thank you, Sir; that will do,' and died.
"I have no news to tell you, my darling sister. You will, of course, have heard of the grand victory gained by the allies over the Russians. Whilst I would not have missed the time of the cholera, or have been absent a day while my regiment suffered from its ravages, yet, I must confess, I should have wished to have been now at the post of danger — the proper place for a soldier. I do not think my chief motive in this desire is the wish for military distinction, although ready and willing to do my duty as a soldier. I trust my motives are in accordance with Christ. The carnage of the battle-field has no attractions for me; but there is a wide field for missionary labour, when the roar of the cannon has ceased, and the deadly strife is over. There are wounded men who have souls to be saved, and dying men to be told to 'look to Jesus;' not to speak of the comfort to a poor soldier of having a 'friend in need.' Of this I am sure, that the private soldiers are most grateful for any kindness from an officer, especially when they are sick and in hospital, and they think and talk much of officers who thus visit them, and endeavour to cheer them in their dreary wards. But as God has so ordered it that we should remain here, I desire to give up my own will about it."
There was a tone about his letters during the latter part of the month of September, which impressed us with the idea that his health and spirits were somewhat failing. For some time after the trial of the cholera season was over, he continued to be a constant visitor at the hospitals, where fever cases were still numerous. But doubtless, it was the extent of his exertions during those weeks when he had watched day and night beside the suffering and the dying, with an intensity of interest in their undying souls, which produced too severe a tension of his nervous system; so that, when the call for exertion had passed away, he sunk into a state of extreme physical weakness. This, in its turn, produced a mental depression, which cast its shadow upon his religious experience. No man could be so keenly alive to spiritual joy without an equally exquisite susceptibility to spiritual suffering. "Where you find your greatest pleasures," said an old Divine, "there expect your deepest sorrows." Yet how different are these from "the sorrow of the world which worketh death."
In a letter, written early in October, Hedley Vicars thus expresses himself:
"You seem to know my state by intuition, and never fail to speak comfort to my heart and soul by your letters. What dark and cloudy days are these, to one whose heart has tasted how sweet and precious Christ is, when the Saviour withdraws the light of his countenance, and seems to leave the soul (whom, nevertheless, He has promised — blessed truth!— never to forsake), when those glorious promises, which were 'the joy and rejoicing of the heart,' fall heavily on the ear, and fail to bring Jesus home to the soul. I suppose I have a more than commonly stony heart, but the Lord is softening it, and causing me, at any rate, to wish to be more like Christ.
"At first, when I heard that my precious L. had been ill — whilst I knew the Lord would not afflict willingly — I found myself a most unbelieving creature, when faith was most wanted; and even now, whilst I am praying most earnestly for her, and for you, and for L——e to be fully restored to health and strength, I fear that it is not with that humble submission to our Father's will, which true faith in his love should impart, following the example of our blessed Redeemer, in saying, 'Not my will, but Thine be done.'"
But it was not for any length of time that the Master, who loved him, left his faithful servant to walk in darkness, and have no light, or at best with but a twilight glimmering from that Sun of Righteousness, who was about to rise again and shine upon his soul with healing in his wings, and scarcely to withdraw Himself any more, until the everlasting day broke, and the shadows of death fled away.
On the 18th of October he writes:
"I have but just emerged from clouds which have obscured Jesus from my view. I seemed to wander in thick darkness, without my loving Redeemer near to be my stay and delight. But great blessings are often sent to us after short trials; and such I think I am now finding. The Lord Jesus has arisen upon me, and has made His glory manifest to my soul. I feel less tied down to this world than I did, and more ready 'to depart and be with Christ.' Sometimes I long to do so, from fears lest I should ever (I will not say fall away,) but do anything which would dishonour my Saviour. And yet what is this but cowardice—wishing to leave the battle-strife of earth for the repose of heaven, with Jesus? Oh, rather would I wait patiently, and look for the coming of the Lord! Shall we not hail that bright and glorious day? 'The Spirit and the Bride say, Come,' and our hearts echo, 'Come, Lord Jesus!' Then shall no anxious fears for those whom we love, disturb our hearts, warning us that the joys of friendship and of love must end for a time in the cold and dreary grave, for then we shall be changed for ever, and 'the body of this death' shall be 'fashioned like unto his glorious body,' and we shall be together with the Lord, beholding the majesty of Him who was slain for us—of Jesus, the King of kings, and Lord of lords. * * *
"I knew you would enter into my disappointment in not having been ordered on to the Crimea ere this. To say I have not felt it (yes, and deeply, too!) would be saying what is not true. But I hope I can leave it now in the hand of my God and Saviour, sure that He orders everything for the best.
"And is it true that William Gregory is dead?[1] It grieved me very much to hear it. I loved him so heartily, and cannot help sorrowing for him. I had so looked forward to his honest, kindly welcomes when I get back to England, if God spare me to return. But we shall walk and talk of Jesus again, in his presence, I believe.
"I greatly enjoy the thought that you three are reading the second lesson for the morning each day with me. It adds not a little to my pleasure. I have lately changed my quarters, and have now got a palace of a room, with a beautiful view of the sea, or rather, the harbour.
"Nares and Macgregor are in the same building with me, and Ensign Derman,[2] who was lately promoted from Serjeant-Major, and in whom I am much interested; so that I am surrounded by those I should wish to have near me. With Derman I have had several most delightful conversations, and I believe he will come out boldly on the Lord's side. Decision and courage at first are absolutely necessary for an officer who wishes to become a soldier of the cross. Without such he will have endless difficulties and trials, and will have no peace given him by those who oppose, until he returns to the allegiance of the god of this world, or else fearlessly shows his colours."
There was another trial to which he was to be subjected, which though short, was not slight to a heart so keenly alive to anxiety regarding those it loved. Early in October it was stated at the Horse Guards that the 97th had been ordered on to the Crimea. But a delay was occasioned by the want of a transport at Malta to convey the 3d Buffs to replace the 97th in the Piræus. On the 15th of November, with the Orinoco again for their transport ship, in the highest spirits, this gallant regiment proceeded to the Crimea, "eleven hundred strong." In ignorance of this delay, Hedley Vicars' family and friends addressed their letters to the Crimea from the middle of October. When the mistake was discovered, no small self-accusation was felt, for a want of forethought in having omitted to despatch letters to both quarters, until the news had arrived that he had sailed. But now it is more painful still to read the anxious inquiry and gentlest reproach, more implied than expressed, to those who would never willingly have caused one solitary pang to that gallant, noble, tender heart.
But the stirring change in his circumstances, brought about by the order from the Horse Guards, considerably diverted his attention from these anxious thoughts. It has been seen how ardently his soldier heart and missionary spirit alike yearned to be at the seat of war. That devoted constancy of courage which had enabled him to face Death in the pestilential hospital — stripped of all his glories, and clothed in the sad garb of weakness and decay, yet armed with tortures, was now to be exercised in the field of military action.
In addition to the excitement of this immediate prospect, new responsibilities, full of interest for his genial spirit, now devolved upon him. He obtained his company, by purchase, on the 3d of November, and devoted himself with almost fatherly interest to the welfare of his men.
His own letters will best tell his thoughts and feelings on leaving Greece for the Crimea:
"Piræus, Nov. 2nd, 1854.
"The order has at length arrived for 'the 97th Regiment to hold itself in readiness for immediate embarkation to join Lord Raglan's army.' The Buffs are now on their way from Malta to relieve us, and will probably be here in two or three days. We are all busily preparing for active service, so I have not much time to spare; but as there may not be another opportunity, I hasten to write a few farewell lines. There are times when the heart feels more powerfully drawn to those whom it loves best. It is so with me now, as I recall to mind that beloved friend with whom I have had such heavenly intercourse, and from whom I have ever experienced such kindness as I can never forget. May the great God who has kept and preserved us until this day, continue to guard and watch over you, and may your hope, and joy, and love increase, as you journey on the homeward road towards that happy land where Jesus reigns, and where He is waiting to receive us!
"Before this letter reaches its destination, we shall probably be in front of the enemy. God alone knows whether we shall ever meet again in this world; but, after all, what are the few short years we might have lived in the enjoyment of each other's friendship, here, compared to that endless eternity we shall spend together beyond the grave? My soul has lately had to weather many a stormy billow, but (and I know it will delight your heart, ever dearest friend, to hear it) I feel quite peaceful and happy now; my own strength was feeble to resist; but Jesus has conquered Satan, and never did I love that blessed Saviour more than I do on this day.
'Through all the changing scenes of life,
In trouble and in joy.
The praises of my God shall still
My heart and tongue employ.
"'Of His deliv'rance I will boast,
Till all that are distrest
From my example comfort take,
And charm their griefs to rest.'
"Yesterday I was on guard. About twelve o'clock at night, whilst reading 2 Cor. v., I had such inward joy and peace and comfort, that I felt strongly inclined to awaken the poor fellows who were stretched asleep on the guard-bed in the adjoining room to pray with them, and to talk to them of the love of Christ! And thus it is (for it seems so selfish to keep all this happiness pent up in one's own heart when it might be shared by others), whenever I have been brought nearest to my Saviour, even 'into the holiest by the blood of Jesus,' I have been constrained and forced, 'while the fire burns,' to 'speak with my tongue,' and to make use of the golden hours of communion with Jesus in the solitude of my chamber, to publish, when 'I go without the camp,' what the Lord Jesus has done for my soul; even for me than whom a man more undeserving of his mercy does not exist. I felt so merry and happy in that miserable guard-room yesterday. I always make it a rule, after reading to the men the 'orders of the guard,' to warn them against the too prevalent habit of swearing, and, to my great delight, during my whole tour of duty, I did not hear one oath; and, in addition to this, I had the pleasure of hearing several times the rustling of the leaves of the tracts I had given them: and two or three times as I passed through their room I could see them poring over them; and about nine o'clock in the evening, Sergeant Stephens, drawing his chair (an empty cask turned upside down) near the fire, proposed to read aloud, to which a general assent was at once given, and he read a tract called 'The Young Naval Officer' to a most attentive audience. I was reading my Bible when he commenced, and I could not help stopping and listening. I cannot tell you how happy I felt as I heard him recounting the history of a soul brought to Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit, and earnestly did I pray that some of those poor fellows might also be led to behold that same Saviour bleeding for them on the cross.
"It grieves me to think of the sorrow it will cause to my L—— and to you should anything happen to me: but for myself, I fear not. If I were trusting to myself in any way, I might indeed tremble at the whistling of every bullet, and dread being summoned in an instant before the judgment-seat of Christ; but I can see no cause for alarm, even at the very moment when soul and body are about to separate, with the crimson cross in full view.
'For ever here my rest shall be,
Close to Thy bleeding side:
This all my hope and all my plea:
For me the Saviour died.'
"I intend to carry constantly about with me a Testament, my little hymn-book, that precious little Book of Psalms you gave me, and also your last gift, which I have found such a feast to my soul, 'Hawker's Morning Portion.' I think with these I can get on very well in the Crimea. I had a large meeting of officers in my room for prayer last Sunday afternoon. A number of the sergeants and corporals were coming next Sunday, but I suppose we shall not spend another Sunday here; however, there is nothing to prevent our having our little meetings in the Crimea.
"I received your precious letter of the 15th on my return from a march into the country this afternoon. I thank God you are all well again. Thank you again for your deeply-valued prayers, and thank all those who have so remembered me. May such proofs of Christian love lead me in like manner to remember, when I kneel before the Lord, all my friends and acquaintances. The cholera has broken out at Athens, and several people have died; but, from accounts received to-day, it appears to be already subsiding.
"The French troops quartered here are anxiously expecting the arrival of the transports to take them on to the seat of war. I pity the poor Buffs, who are to relieve us, and remain in this dull place. The whole 97th Regiment, officers and men, are delighted at the prospect of measuring their strength with the 'Rooshians' (as the soldiers call them).
"There cannot be a doubt that it is a just war we are engaged in; and therefore I say with them the sooner we are 'let loose' the better. I think the Russians will find the 'Celestials' rather awkward customers to deal with; nous verrons! There are some people, I know, who cannot imagine how any Christian could ever join the deadly strife of battle, but I can only say that with such I do not agree (and I am sure you do not either), so that I shall not flinch from doing my duty to my Queen and country, the Lord being my helper.
"I consider war to be a dire calamity, but as much a visitation from the Almighty as cholera or any other scourge; and as on the appearance of that dreadful malady, we do not sit quietly down and let it take its course, but very rightly (trusting in the blessing of God) use every precaution, and employ every means to drive it from amongst us, so in the case of this war with the Russian despot. He has made an aggression upon a country (one of our oldest allies) which had given him no just cause of provocation, and has thus disturbed the peace of Europe, and let loose upon us the horrors of war, and shall we Britons let him have his own way, and tamely look on? God forbid! Rather will we, the Lord being our 'Shield and buckler,' crush the evil, and restore peace and quietness to the land.
"A large steamer came in this morning for two French regiments that are to go on to the Crimea. We are anxiously looking out for our steamer."
"On board the Orinoco, November 17th.
"The ship came into the Piraeus so unexpectedly, and was off again with us on board so very soon, that I had not a moment's time to write to you at starting.
"The little packet, sent in September arrived the day before we left Greece. I cannot tell you what delight it gives me. Williams has, indeed, been most successful. The little picture has really the beauty of a miniature with the truth of a daguerreotype. Nothing else in the world could have been of so much value to me. It brings her so forcibly to my memory... God grant I may soon have good news of you all.
"I cannot imagine why I have not heard for so long a time. You would not, I know, willingly deprive me of my greatest earthly solace.
"Farewell now, dearest, best of friends. May grace and peace be multiplied unto you!
"I have much to distract me now; but, in 'looking unto Jesus,' I find still, as in happier times, comfort and peace.
"Blessings on you all.
"Ever your most deeply attached friend and brother,
"Hedley Vicars."
- ↑ A railway workman, at one time employed at the Crystal Palace, who was reported to have died of cholera, but has survived to mourn his friend.
- ↑ Ensign, afterwards Lieutenant, Derman, an officer of great promise and of high religious principle, who was raised from the ranks, and afterwards promoted to the Adjutancy of his regiment. He was mortally wounded in the trenches before Sebastopol on the 18th of August, 1855.