Martial Deeds of Pennsylvania, Samuel P. Bates, 1876 - Part 3, Chapter 2, 988- 1022 Contributed for use in the USGenWeb Archives by Judy Banja jbanja@msn.com and transcribed by Judy Banja, Judith Bookwalter, Cyndie Enfinger, Linda Horn, Margaret Long, Patricia Martz, Barbara Milhalcik, Leah Waring and Marjorie B. Winter Copyright 2003. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/pafiles.htm ________________________________________________ MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA by SAMUEL P. BATES. PHILADELPHIA: T. H. DAVIS & CO., 1876. MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 988 PART III. CIVIL AND MISCELLANEOUS. CHAPTER II. OLD JOHN BURNS, the Civilian Hero of Gettysburg, without official title, but with renown which shall be lasting when brass and marble moulder, was born at Burlington, New Jersey, on the 5th of September, 1793. His father, Joseph Burns, was a Scotchman from the banks of the Dee, and a relative of the poet; his mother, Polly Dobson, of English descent. Fearless by nature, provocation served but to whet the edge of his resolve, and when, after long-suffering outrage and wrong, the United States declared war against Great Britain in 1812, young Burns was among the first in the ranks. The recollections of those eighteen months of service were never effaced nor dimmed, and when, a short time before his death - then at the verge of eighty - the subject was broached, the fire of his eye and the compression of his lips, as he recounted their eventful course, revealed his fearless and heroic nature. He was of the company of Captain Barton, of the Tenth regiment, and marched to New York, thence to Albany by boat, proceeded to Greenbush where he joined the army of General Scott, with it moved to Sackett's Harbor, crossed to Canada, and was at Plattsburg and Queenstown. In the battle of Lundy's Lane, when the conflict was at its height, and the event still doubtful, General Brown, who commanded the American force, came dashing up to Major Miller, who was leading Burns' regiment, his horse foaming with excitement, and, pointing to a powerful six gun battery of the enemy posted upon an eminence and doing fearful execution, exclaimed: "Major Miller, can you take that battery?" Miller was a man of few words, and he simply responded, "I can try." "We all knew what that meant," says Burns; "for while one of his men JOHN BURNS - 989 should live we knew that Miller would never rest till that battery was his." The order to fix bayonets and charge was promptly given, and Miller, placing himself at the head of the column, led on. Darkness overshadowed all - as the battle was fought from sundown to midnight - except as the blaze of the guns lit up the field. The slaughter was fearful; but that coveted eminence was scaled, the guns captured, and turned on the foe. That heroic exploit was the turning point in the battle, and at midnight the British retired, leaving the Americans masters of the field. Tears would fill the eyes of Burns, and his brawny figure heave with emotion, as he told the words of his brave old leader, and described the fiery ardor of his General. Burns remained upon the frontier through two winters, and until peace was declared. He enlisted with the first for the war with Mexico, and after drilling and patiently awaiting orders, was in the end sorely disappointed to receive notice that his company could not be accepted. He was a member of the militia in Newtown, commanded by Weanausel, John and Jonathan Wynkoop. When the Hon. Edward McPherson, then member of Congress from the Gettysburg district, and since Clerk of the House, formed his company for three months' service, Burns shouldered his musket and putting his self in the ranks marched to the camp at West Chester; but when it came to be mustered into the service of the United States, he was rejected on account of his age and sent home. The quiet little town of Gettysburg was too small for a man like Burns, and he travelled on foot to Hagerstown, joining the wagon train. Near the close of May, he was sent to Frederick with a fresh supply of animals, and soon after, his fidelity being appreciated, he was made police officer of the wagon camp. He was at the battle of Falling Waters; and when the booming of the cannon and the rattle of musketry were borne to his ears, he gave his whip to another, exclaiming, "They may want me over there," and started for the field; but before he reached it Jackson had been routed. He remained in the column of Banks after the departure of Patterson, until winter set in, a period of seven months, when he was again sent home. His fellow-townsmen, reverencing his patriotic impulses, and MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 990 thinking that by giving him employment in which he should feel responsibility he might be kept from the field, at the borough election in the spring of 1862, chose him constable. This had the desired effect, and until the invasion of the State he devoted himself diligently to his official duties. At one period of his life Burns had been given to dissipation; but in later years he was not only a disciple of temperance, but of strict total abstinence, and never was a man more earnest an consistent in his professions. The unlawful sale of alcoholic liquors found in him an uncompromising foe. On Sunday, June the 21st, preceding the great battle, Captain John Scott, with fourteen men, among whom was Burns, went out fourteen miles into the mountains, on the Chambersburg road, for the purpose of bushwhacking the enemy; but met Union scouts and were turned back. On Friday, the 26th, Early came with his division to Gettysburg, infantry, cavalry, and artillery, and Burns, perhaps showing himself a little too officious, was taken prisoner and held in custody until Sunday, when the rebel leader departed on his way to York. The fiery spirit of Burns could illy brook his vile durance and insult to his authority as a civil officer, and we may imagine him ready to answer in the language of the resolute constable in a village of the old Bay State, when a bully threatened to shake him, "You may shake; but remember, if you shake me you shake the whole State of Massachusetts." Towards evening of that same Sunday, Burns caught a rebel chaplain, George Gwin, riding with messages from Ewell to Early, and a trooper, and locked them up in the Gettysburg jail. On the following day he seized one of White's guerillas, who gave the name of Talbut, and him, also, he held fast in jail. Buford with his cavalry came on Tuesday, and after resting an hour in the streets, moved out to McPherson's farm and encamped. The appearance of the old flag and the veterans of Buford brought joy to the old man's heart. Hitherto he had been single-handed in facing the whole rebel army. He hailed with satisfaction the van of the Army of the Potomac, coming to his support. On the following morning came Reynolds leading the First corps. Burns was on the alert; yet he was a man who never meddled with any business except his own and kept JOHN BURNS - 991 aloof from the General's cavalcade; but when hailed by Reynolds on his return from his interview with Buford, and asked to point out a near way to get through the outskirts of the town to meet the head of his column, Burns joyfully performed the office. When the leading division came on, and the pioneers, obedient to the order of Reynolds, were levelling the fences through the fields to open a way to Seminary Ridge, Burns was at hand, and the flashing of their bright axes in the morning sunlight made an indelible impression upon him. Burns could never restrain his enthusiasm in describing this scene; but would spring to his feet and swing his arms as though handling one of those shining implements and laying low the fences before him. Going back towards his own home he met two wounded soldiers of Buford's command returning to town. "Ah, my lads," says Burns, "your guns are needed over yonder; but you are bleeding, and are too weak to carry them; give one of them to me." This the soldier addressed resolutely refused. The other, more accurately discerning the old man's spirit, said to his companion, "Give it to him. You can't use it." "What do you want to do with it?" asked the soldier. "Shoot the d----d rebels," was the old man's curt reply. It was given, and filling his pockets with cartridges, he hurried forward and came upon the Union line where Stone's brigade was hotly engaged. He was first accosted by Major Chamberlain of the One Hundred and Fiftieth Pennsylvania, with, "Old man, where are you going?" "I want a chance," said Burns. "A chance for what?" "To shoot," replied the old man, his eye fired with excitement and his whole frame swayed with emotion. Chamberlain referred him to Colonel Wister. To the question if he could be allowed to fight, Wister replied, "Yes, and I wish there were many more like you. But you have no ammunition." "Yes, I have," said Burns, slapping his pockets. "Do you know how to shoot?" "Give me a chance," cried Burns, "and I will show you whether I can shoot or not." "You may have a chance," said the Colonel, "but this open ground is no place for an old man like you. Go over to the woods with the Iron Brigade, where you can have some shelter." He went as directed, and joining the Seventh Wisconsin, Lieutenant Colonel Callis, opened upon the rebels. But the wood did MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 992 not suit him. He wanted a fair unobstructed view, and went to a fence in the open ground. Among his acquaintances he had always been known as a dead shot. He was now in no haste to create smoke; but awaiting his opportunity, he fired only when he saw something that he could hit. He watched especially for men mounted, and many a saddle was emptied. His unerring aim attracted the attention of the soldiers and officers of the Seventh, and Colonel Callis sent him a fine silver-mounted rifle that had been captured from the enemy in the battle of Antietam. Away across Willoughby Run was seen an officer riding a beautiful gray horse. He came on, leading his men with the utmost gallantry. He was pointed out to Burns, and that beautiful charger was soon seen galloping riderless over the field, and the old hero was saluted by three cheers from the soldiers who were watching him. At one o'clock there was a lull in the battle and he lay down upon the grass to rest. On looking about he was startled by seeing a hand lying on the ground that had been torn from the body by some terrible missile; but the body whose pulsations had warmed it was nowhere to be seen. When the battle was renewed he went again earnestly to work. The enemy, strong and well supported, pushed forward fearlessly, while the Union force had but one thin line, and that now fearfully decimated. Burns took little care of his person, and he was finally struck in the side by two musket shots that eventua11y produced a rupture; but still he would not yield. Again he was struck, now on the buckle of his belt, the shock bending him nearly double, and for a few moments he could not speak; but he recovered himself, and might then have retired with honor and safety, the brigade with which he had been fighting having already gone. But now the enemy were coming nearer, and his chances for shooting were rapidly improving, and he stood at his post firing away until the rebel line was close upon him, when he received a severe wound in the arm, an artery being severed, from which the hemorrhage came near proving fatal, and another in his leg, the limb being completely paralyzed, and he could do no more - neither retire nor even stand. His first thought was to divest himself of every appearance of a combatant, well knowing that he could not hope for mercy with the evidences of having participated in the fight JOHN BURNS - 993 found upon him. He accordingly threw away his gun, and the four cartridges which still remained in his pocket he buried, digging for the purpose with his pocket-knife. Weakened by the loss of blood he soon became oblivious, and when the final charge of the enemy was made he was insensible, and was passed for dead. At about six o'clock in the evening a sergeant and six men engaged in gathering the wounded, attracted by the strange sight of an old gray-headed man in his ordinary dress, bleeding from numerous ghastly wounds, approached and stood spell-bound before him. After a moment's silence they turned him upon his side, and seeing that he was still alive, inquired, "How came you here?" "My wife," answered Burns, "was taken suddenly sick this morning, and I started off from the town to cross this field in search of a girl who lives out beyond here to come and take care of her and was caught between the two lines, and as you see am badly wounded." "I believe he is an old liar," said the sergeant; "but he will never harm us any more," and passed on, leaving him in his misery. He then dragged himself along on the grass to where two dead rebels and a Union man with thigh all crushed by a cannon shot were lying. Not long after burying parties came and covered his three dead companions with earth where they lay, to whom he repeated the story of hunting a girl; but they were alike incredulous. He finally fell asleep and rested till eleven, when he was awakened by the tramping of a sergeant posting his guards. It had been raining and he was chilled. He called to the guard for a drink of water, which was given him, and a blanket in which he wrapped himself. At dawn he heard the cocks crowing, and saw a guard not far off, towards whom he began to roll and pull himself along. An officer approached and told him to get to a hospital. By great exertions and with excruciating pain - for his clothing was stiff and rasped the lips of the undressed wounds - he reached a little log-house and pulled himself upon the cellar door, when his strength failed him and he fainted, and it was some time before he recovered. He was taken up and carried into the loft of the house, which was full of wounded. Seeing his exhausted condition he was offered some blackberry wine by the good woman, but he stub- MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 994 bornly refused it from a rigid sense of his duty in view of his pledge to total abstinence. He sent a message to an old friend who lived near to come and take him back to the town; but before he arrived, a neighbor, Anthony Sullivan, was returning with his family, and laying Burns gently in the wagon carried him to his own home, arriving at about two o'clock on the afternoon of the 2nd of July. The report had spread that he was killed, he having been last seen badly wounded, and it was with a thrill of joy and relief to a heart burdened with anxiety and grief that he was met at the cottage door by his wife. But his home was now a hospital crowded with mutilated soldiers. A place was made for him in an upper room, and his wounds were dressed by the surgeon in charge, a Major of the Confederate army from North Carolina. As General Ewell was passing his window the doctor asked Burns if he had ever seen the General, and kindly raised him up to look out. Burns gazed an instant, and then, as though not impressed with the General's appearance, exclaimed, "Humph! the old booger has only one leg, and has to be strapped on his horse." On Friday a Captain and a Lieutenant visited the house and approaching him inquired, "Well, old man, how did you come wounded?" Again he had recourse to the story of the sick wife. "But who shot you? your own men or ours?" "I can't tell that," said Burns, "I could get no farther than the Union line, and when I was wounded I sat down and could not get back until brought in by my neighbor." But this did not satisfy his questioner, who, as appears, had been enlightened respecting Burns' case by some of the townspeople, and gruffly responded, "Look here, old man, didn't you take a gun from a soldier out on the street here, Wednesday morning?" "Yes, I did." "Well, what did you say when you took it?" "Why, I said a heap of things. Folks say a heap of things in these times." "Didn't you say that you was going out to shoot some of the d----d rebels?" Burns was helpless, and in the power of his enemies, but his spirit was undaunted, and he promptly and resolutely responded, "Yes, I did say just that thing." His questioners had but one argument remaining. They silently left the house, and procured two riflemen, who, going into a chamber on the opposite side of the street, took deliberate JOHN BURNS - 995 aim at the old man as he lay helpless upon his couch. The missiles penetrated the bed under him, just missing his body. Realizing that their purpose was to kill him he rolled upon the floor and crawled into the next room. Supposing that he was under the bed they fired several shots, and hearing nothing concluded they had effected their design. But now the last charge had been delivered and the day had gone hopelessly against the foe. At three o'clock on Saturday morning guards came and aroused all - quietly removing the wounded - the trains being already in full retreat. The story of Old John Burns, his courage in the battle, his almost miraculous escape from death by wounds and the assassin's bullets, soon spread through the whole land, and he was hailed as the HERO OF GETTYSBURG. Not the Generals who had conducted the battle were regarded with greater interest, nor was there a stronger desire felt to behold them. He was brought upon the platform at great public gatherings in Philadelphia, and other large cities, and he was made to pass in triumph like the heroes of old. On one occasion in Philadelphia as he was being conducted through the crowd, an aged woman rushed forward, and grasping his coat, exclaimed: "Troth, mon, if I can't shake you by the hand I'll shake your old coat." None felt a greater interest in the veteran than Mr. Lincoln, and no sooner had he arrived in Gettysburg on the day of the consecration of the National Cemetery, than he inquired for Burns and expressed a desire to see him. Citizens immediately went to bring him. They found him at his home, and when told that Mr. Lincoln had sent for him, he was apparently incredulous as to the regularity of the call, and replied, "If anybody wants to see me let him come here." But he was finally convinced and was taken along. After a pleasant interview, in which the President showed him very marked attention, the whole company started for the church, where there was to be a public reception. As the procession was ready to move, Mr. Lincoln sought Mr. Burns and walked with him arm in arm through the streets. Burns visited Washington, and was received by the President, the Secretary of War, and other officials of the Government with special honor; Congress and the Legislature of Pennsylvania voted him pen- MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 996 sions, and the Senate of the latter made him one of its officers, a position which he held for several years. He was mentioned with admiration by the press of other countries, and poetry has woven for him an enduring chaplet. As age came upon him, and the furrows deepened on his face, his body indeed gave token of yielding; but the spirit was still fresh. He delighted in the society of children, and danced gayly with them as he hummed the air which in the days long ago had guided the feet of the maiden whom he led in sportive measure. Nor could age temper his love of martial glory. He was never quite satisfied with the fight at Gettysburg, especially on that first day, when the Union forces were obliged to yield their position. He never mentioned the subject without expressing the wish that the rebels would come once more, believing that if the battle was to be fought over again he could do better. He manifested great reluctance to speak of his wounds, and only after repeated importunities could he be induced to show his scars, which disclose how horrible must have been his mutilation. After the death of his wife, which occurred in 1868, he was very lonely, had no regular home, and was much cast about. While in Harrisburg, in the winter of 1870, he had a paralytic stroke, and was carried to his lodgings. An Irishman, a stranger, was employed to take care of him. During the night Burns got the impression - whether well or ill founded - that the Irishman was trying to rob him. He attempted to draw up his right hand, but that would not obey the impulse. The left, however, was still free, with which he hit the fellow such a powerful blow over the eyes as to send him sprawling upon the floor. With all his heroism, Burns was not without a spark of superstition. It may have been a relic of family or national tradition, or a constitutional trace of morbid religious sentiment, with which he was thoroughly imbued. He believed in apparitions. He was on one occasion passing through the woods, where in the battle he had fought. It was summer, and the foliage was upon the forest as then. He was a1one, no human being within call, when suddenly there appeared before him a Confederate soldier, dressed in gray, with slouched hat, gun and accoutrements, A figure Armed at point, exactly, cap-à-pie. JOHN BURNS - 997 "He was," says Burns, "a man of immense proportions and the very image of the one whom I had seen there on the day of the battle, at the very spot, and in the exact attitude." "Did you speak to it?" we asked. "No, sir, I did not. It beckoned me to come towards him, but I turned and left the ground as rapidly as I could, and have never been on that field since. I could face them alive and respond to their challenge, but when the dead men come back, I am not in for that style of warfare." "But, Mr. Burns, you do not really believe that it was a ghost, do you?" Shaking his head as if still in awe of the apparition, and with solemn and mysterious mien, he exclaimed, "Ah, ha! You tell if you can." Burns was a man of strict fidelity, one in whom unlimited trust could be placed, who looked with utter abhorrence upon corruption in political, as in private life. He was full of the milk of human kindness, of tenderness and compassion, quickly moved to tears at the recital of suffering and distress. He was not only strictly devoted to his professions of temperance, and his pledges as a Good Templar, but was a devout Christian - an honest man. He died on the 4th of February, 1872, and was buried in Evergreen Cemetery, near the resting- place of the dead in that great battle in which he acted so heroic a part. Time may bring other men to stand in future emergencies; but none will come with a truer heart than that which beat in the bosom of John L. Burns, the HERO OF GETTYSBURG. Our artist has admirably produced the rugged features of the old hero, and Bret Harte, in his characteristic way, has thus vividly portrayed him in song: Have you heard the story that gossips tell Of Burns of Gettysburg? - No? Ah, well! Brief is the glory that hero earns, Briefer the story of poor John Burns: He was the fellow who won renown, - The only man who didn't back down When the rebels rode through his native town; But held his own in the fight next day. . . . I might tell how, but the day before, John Bums stood at his cottage door, Looking down the village street, Where in the shade of his peaceful vine, He beard the low of his gathered kine, And felt their breath with incense sweet; MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 998 Or, I might say, when the sunset burned The old farm gable, he thought it turned The milk, that fell in a babbling flood Into the milk-pail. Red as blood: Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the trees. But all such fanciful thoughts as these Were strange to a practical man like Burns, Who minded only his own concerns, Troubled no more by fancies fine Than one of his calm-eyed, long-tailed kine,-- Quite old-fashioned and matter of fact, Slow to argue, but quick to act. That was the reason, as some fo1ks say, He fought so well on that terrible day. . . . Just where the tide of battle turns, Erect and lonely stood Old John Burns. - How do you think the man was dressed? He wore an ancient long buff vest, Yellow as saffron, - but his best; And, buttoned over his manly breast Was a bright blue coat, with a rolling collar, And large gilt buttons, - size of a dollar, - With tails that country-fo1k called "swaller." He wore a broad-brimmed, bell-crowned hat, White as the locks on which it sat. Never had such a sight been seen For forty years on the village green, Since Old John Burns was a country beau, And went to the "quilting" long ago. Close at his elbows all that day, Veterans of the Peninsula, Sunburnt and bearded, charged away; And striplings downy of lip and chin, - Clerks that the Home Guard mustered in, - Glanced, as they passed, at the hat he wore, Then at the rifle his right hand bore; And hailed him from out their youthful lore With scraps of slangy répertoire; "How are you, White Hat?" "Put her through!" "Your heads level," and "Bully for you!" Called him "Daddy," begged he'd disclose The name of the tailor who made his clothes, And what was the value he set on those; While Burns, unmindful of jeer and scoff, Stood there picking the rebels off; - With his long brown rifle, and bell-crowned hat, And the swallow-tails they were laughing at. 'Twas but a moment, for that respect Which clothes all courage their voices checked; And something the wildest could understand Spake in the old man's strong right hand; FRANCIS JORDAN - 999 And his corded throat, and lurking frown Of his eye-brows under his old bell-crown; Until, as they gazed, there crept an awe Through the ranks in whispers, and some men saw, In the antique vestments and long white hair, The Past of the Nation in battle there; And some of the soldiers since declare That the gleam of his old white hat afar, Like the crested plume of the brave Navarre, That day was their oriflamme of war. So raged the battle. You know the rest; How the rebels, beaten and backward pressed, Broke at the final charge, and ran: At which John Burns - a practical man - Shouldered his rifle, unbent his brows, And then went back to his bees and cows. That is the story of Old John Burns; This is the moral the reader learns: In fighting the battle, the question's whether You'll show a hat that's white, or a feather. FRANCIS JORDAN. son of John and Jane Jordan, was born on the 5th of February, 1820, in Bedford county. His father was of English and his mother of Irish parentage, both highly esteemed for their intelligence and Christian virtues. In his nineteenth year a maternal uncle - wealthy Mississippi planter - took charge of his education and placed him in Augusta College, Kentucky, where he remained two years, and subsequently in Franklin and Marshall College, Pennsylvania, where he finished his collegiate course. Returning to his native place, he commenced the study of law, teaching, meanwhile, to defray his expenses, and was admitted to practice. He had not been long at the bar before he was appointed, by the Attorney-General, District Attorney of Bedford county, and subsequently, when the office was made elective, was chosen to that position. At the outset his official conduct was able, his indictments being so accurately drawn that not one of them was quashed for informality. In 1850, he entered into partnership with Alexander King, subsequently President Judge, which continued until the opening of the Rebellion. In 1855 he commenced his public political career, having been elected to the State Senate for a term of three years. A leading question of that period was the sale of the public works MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1000 and he was the champion of the bill authorizing it. He was chairman of the committee charged with drawing a bill for the readjustment of legislative districts, under a new apportionment, and was successful in carrying through the act, which was substantially just to both political parties. These measures were chiefly instrumental in wresting the control of the State from the party which, for a long period had been dominant. In a body which contained some of the best legal talent of the Commonwealth he was made chairman of the Judiciary Committee. At the close of his term he declined a reelection, and was not long after appointed one of a commission of three to revise the Civil Code, which duty was postponed on account of the opening of hostilities, and finally passed to other hands. A pressing exigency called for a sudden concentration of troops upon the central border, and at Cumberland, Maryland, in the fall of 1861. A portion of the noted Reserve corps was sent, and at the request of the Governor, Mr. Jordan accompanied the column as Assistant Quartermaster. Unexpectedly called, and but indifferently organized, the duties of this officer were troublesome and onerous. While thus employed, without solicitation or even knowledge he was appointed by the President a Paymaster in the army and was promptly confirmed. Recognizing the right of the Government to his services, he promptly dissolved his law partnership, resigned his civil trusts, and entered upon his new duties. In the two and a half years succeeding, he served in Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi and Louisiana, during the last four months of this period being chief paymaster in the Army of the Mississippi, and disbursing during his entire term over $4,000,000, under a bond of only $20,000, rendering a satisfactory account of all his transactions. In the fall of 1863, being at home on a short leave of absence, he was tendered by Governor Curtin the position of military agent of the State at Washington. The duties required legal and military knowledge, capacity for, and willingness to work, and a character for integrity, beyond the reach of suspicion. The earnestness with which the Governor urged the acceptance induced Colonel Jordan to resign the office of paymaster for that FRANCIS JORDAN - 1001 purpose. In his annual messages of 1864-'65-'66, the Governor said: "A reference to the reports of Colonel Jordan of Washington, and Colonel Chamberlain, agent for the Southwest, will show the magnitude and usefulness of this brunch of the service." "The report of the State agent at Washington shows that under his management the claims of our soldiers are promptly examined and paid." "This agency has proved very useful in all respects, and especially to our volunteers and their families. There have passed through the agency during the past year 4690 claims, and $311,703 have been collected from the Government free of charge." The aggregate of the sums paid to soldiers or their families exceeded a half million dollars, and so great was the confidence reposed in the agent that no bond whatever was required. The Legislature, recognizing his service, passed an act conferring upon him the rank and pay of a Colonel of infantry. In 1866, the Republican State Central Committee elected Colonel Jordan its chairman. The canvass was conducted with great ability and discretion, and resulted in the election of General Geary, who, having been thus brought into intimate relations with, and observing the eminent qualifications of Colonel Jordan, made him Secretary of the Commonwealth. This office he held throughout the two terms of Governor Geary's administration, a period of six years, discharging its duties with marked ability. During the latter part of Colonel Jordan's second term the subject of a revision of the State Constitution was generally agitated and discussed in the columns of the press, and among leading citizens. The respect entertained for the character and legal acquirements of the Secretary induced a number of prominent citizens of Philadelphia, irrespective of party, to address him a letter asking his views. In response he wrote and published a paper, on the 18th of September, 1871, advocating a revision, and detailing his reasons. This was well received and had a strong influence in carrying the State in its favor. After the convention had been called, the Social Science Association of Philadelphia invited him to deliver an address upon the needed amendments. This he did on the 19th of February, 1872, and repeated his discourse in Pittsburg shortly after. The Secretary MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1002 ably advocated thirteen amendments, covering the most vital defects of the old instrument. It is sufficient to say of the soundness of view displayed, that the convention, composed of the best ability of the State, adopted twelve of the thirteen changes advocated. Both the letter and address were published and widely disseminated, operating powerfully upon the popular mind and paving the way for the ultimate adoption of the amended constitution. These papers served to establish the reputation of Colonel Jordan as a sound lawyer, and elicited strong commendation from intelligent men both within and without the Commonwealth. That noted jurist, Jeremiah S. Black, who was a member of the Convention, on one occasion said of it: "Mr. Jordan's speech and letter, which will be found in the Convention Manual, is the best, bravest, and most effective blow that legislative corruption has received at the hands of any man in this Commonwealth; and I think has done more service to the cause of good government. His analysis of the Statute Book of Pennsylvania, and his exposure of its absurdities, are masterly in the best sense. His means of knowledge being undisputed and his veracity undoubted, what he says upon the subject may be taken as of the highest authority." Charles J. Faulkner of Martinsburg, who was then a member of the Constitutional Convention of West Virginia, wrote on the 28th of December, 1871: "I had the honor of receiving to-day your interesting and able letter upon constitutional reform in your State. I have read it with great profit and instruction and consider your argument on the evils of special legislation overwhelming." The subject of a successor to Governor Geary early engrossed public attention, and Colonel Jordan was prominently presented. In one of the most influential counties of the State his name was submitted on the Crawford county system, whereby every voter indicates his preference on his ticket. Five candidates were presented and the result was a majority for Colonel Jordan over all others combined. In the nominating convention, however, his name was withdrawn before a vote was taken, in the hope of thereby harmonizing conflicting interests. The same convention selected a candidate for Judge of the Supreme Court, and although he was not before the convention GEORGE H. STUART - 1003 for the office, such was the appreciation of his character, and desire to have his name upon the ticket, that on the last ballot his vote was the next to that of the successful candidate. In January, 1873, Colonel Jordan returned to private life, having adopted the city of Harrisburg as his residence, and in partnership with his brother-in-law, Lewis W. Hall, resumed the practice of his profession. Few men in the Commonwealth are more esteemed for talent, professional attainment, moral virtues, administrative skill, and official integrity, and he may with pride be referred to as a guide for the young who aspire to a career of honor regulated by strict rectitude. GEORGE HAY STUART, Chairman of the United States Christian Commission, and one of its most active and efficient members, was born on the 2d of April, 1816, at Rosehall, County Down, Ireland. After receiving a good business education he came to this country in 1831, whither members of his family had preceded him, and settled in Philadelphia. He not long after became a member of the First Reformed Presbyterian Church, and in 1842 was ordained a ruling e1der, which office he still holds. Few were more zealous or consistent, and none more liberal in advancing the interests of Christianity. For twenty-five years he was Superintendent of the Sabbath School of his church, Treasurer of the Theological School, and an earnest advocate and worker in various missionary societies. During the years of famine in Ireland, he aided powerfully in sending succor. He presided in the Presbyterian National Convention which sat in Philadelphia in 1867, in which the preliminary arrangements were made for uniting the broken and disjointed elements of that sect. From the first he was an active member of the Young Men's Christian Association, and was President of the conventions which met in 1861 and 1863. The Bible and Tract Societies, and the Sunday School Union, are all greatly indebted to him for personal efforts for their efficiency and material aid. In the year 1868, the Genera1 Synod of the Reformed Presbyterian Church suspended him from his position as ruling elder and member in his church, for singing hymns and communing with Christians of other evangelical denominations. The action was taken MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1006 in his absence on account of severe illness. It was repudiated by the church of which he was a member, and the regulation which incited to the determination of the Synod has called forth severe denunciation. Mr. Stuart early won a high reputation in mercantile circles by the vigorous and successful management of his business, no less than by his probity and honor. He was associated with four brothers, John, James, Joseph* and David, and in addition to their chief establishment in Philadelphia they had other houses in New York, Manchester, and Liverpool. Success in business pursuits has given him the means to be eminently useful in every humane and Christian enterprise which he could conveniently and consistently reach. The rallying of men to the National standard in the spring of 1861 could not fail to excite the interest of a man so endowed as Mr. Stuart, and the thunders of the First Bull Run battle had scarcely died away when he began to meditate measures for reaching the soldier in camp, on the battle-field, in the hospital, and at the lonely picket post. On the 28th of October, 1861, the Executive Committee of the Young Men's Christian Associations of which he was chairman issued a call for a general meeting of delegates in extra session to devise means for reaching the soldier with Christian and brotherly influence and care. The meeting was held in New York on the 14th of November, and resulted in the constitution of the United States Christian Commission, as follows: Rollin H. Neale and Charles Demond, Boston; John D. Hill, Buffalo; John V. Farwell, Chicago; M. L. R. P. Thompson and H. Thane Miller, Cincinnati; S. H. Tyng, Benjamin F. Manierre, and Edmund S. Janes, New York; George H. Stuart and John P. Crozier, Philadelphia; and Mitchell H. Miller, Washington. At the first meeting of this Commission Mr. Stuart was made Chairman, a position which he held to the close of its operations at the end of the war, and never was trust more faithfully performed or more signally successful. He was a moving spirit, and his great efficiency, sound judgment, and more than all his indomitable energy were everywhere recognized. When it became known that inhuman barbarities were prac- _____ * Died November 18th, 1874. (Footnote) GEORGE H. STUART - 1005 tised upon Union prisoners confined at Andersonville and other rebel prisons, Mr. Stuart made vigorous exertions to have men, to whose honor and integrity the rebel authorities could take no exception, appointed to go among the prisoners to distribute comforts and labor to ameliorate their condition, offering the like privilege to the rebels. The Government promptly adopted the proposition, and sent forward the agents with the requisite official certificates and mean of access; but it was rejected, and the agents turned back by the Richmond authorities. In 1886 Mr. Stuart was in Europe, and at the anniversary meeting of the British and Foreign Bible Society, held at Exeter Hall on the 2d of May, the Earl of Shaftesbury, President of the society, presiding, Mr. Stuart spoke, and in the course of his remarks gave a summary of the operations of the Christian Commission, and incidents illustrating its workings. "When the war commenced," he said, "we had an army of 16,000 men, scattered from Maine to California, but in the course of the war there were called into the field 2,000,000 of men - young men from schools and seminaries, young men unused to the hardships of the battle-field; and the Christian people of the land felt that we ought not only to follow these young men with our prayers, but that we ought above all to furnish them with the bread of life, through the Gospel of Jesus Christ. During the four years of the struggle there were distributed, among the army and navy alone, over 2,000,000 copies of God's Word, in whole or in part. The principal agency for that distribution was the United States Christian Commission, which distributed 1,466,748 copies, all of which were received gratuitously from the American Bible Society, with the exception of 15,000 copies forwarded to us from your own depository; and I am here to-day to return to you our grateful thanks for that contribution." Mr. Stuart here exhibited a £5 note of the Bank of England, sent by a poor woman living in Derbyshire, to President Lincoln, "with which to buy Bibles for the poor wounded soldiers of the North." "Fifty or a hundred guineas," said Mr. Stuart, "would not buy it (holding it up), for it has incited to many gifts, and brought 'much money' to our treasury; and if you have any difficulty, my lord, with regard to your building fund, it might perhaps be well for you to borrow it." MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1006 "The United States Christian Commission was simply the Church of Christ, in all her branches, in an organized form, going forth in time of war, as our blessed Master went through the streets of Jerusalem and along the shores of Galilee. Some might ask, Where did these men get their commission to go forth to the army, carrying bread for the body in one hand, and the Bread of Life in the other? I believe they got it from the example of our Saviour Himself. We sent forth the Bible and other books, by the hands of men of burning zeal, not mere perfunctory agents. There were ministers who came to us and offered themselves for the work; but we said: 'No; you have not succeeded at home and you are not likely to succeed in the army.' We wanted only men who were willing to put off the black coat and the white cravat, and would put on the army attire, and if need be, would undertake to make with their own hands gruel for the soldiers. I will tell you what happened on one occasion. A reverend Doctor of Divinity was engaged in making gruel for the soldiers, and was putting into the gruel something that would make it more palatable. Some of the soldiers were busily watching his movements, and one of them exclaimed: 'Go it, Doctor; put some more of that stuff in, and it will be the real Calvinistic gruel!' In another case, a man saw a reverend Doctor engaged in washing bloody shirts in a brook, and he called out to him: 'Doctor? what are you doing?' The Doctor replied: 'The shirts supplied to the army are exhausted and also those of our own Commission. The wounded are suffering from their stiffened and clotted shirts, and I thought I might undertake to wash a few of them in the brook. Do you think I am wrong?' 'Wrong!' said the other, 'oh, no. I never saw you walking so closely in the footsteps of your Divine Master before.' These men have not only ministered to the bodily wants of the soldiers, but to their moral and chiefly to their spiritual necessities. They circulated upwards of 8,000,000 of copies of knapsack books, including such works as Newman Hall's 'Come to Jesus,' and Mr. Reid's 'Blood of Jesus.' The history of these books will never be written. They came back to the families of the soldiers in America, many of them stained with their former owners' blood. They have become heir-looms of those families, and they GEORGE H. STUART - 1007 will never be parted with. Besides these there Were 18,000,000 copies of our best religious newspapers issued to the army, fresh as they appeared from the press. The total receipts of the Commission were $6,250,000. The books were distributed by about 5000 unpaid agents. How did we get these agents? They got nothing for their labors. We would not employ agents who wanted pay for their work, except a few permanent ones to superintend. . . . But these men got pay - pay far richer than was ever coined in any mint: it was the 'God bless you 'of the dying soldier." Mr. Stuart declared that in all his labors in distributing the Scriptures he never found but one man who refused to take a copy, and that was a German from Philadelphia. To the representations that it was Cromwell's Bible, the one which old Ironsides read and from which they received such inspiration, he still turned a deaf ear, as he did to his being a fellow-townsman. Mr. Stuart knows no such Word as fail. He tried a flank movement. He told the soldier that on the following Sunday he would speak to a large audience in Philadelphia. "'Well, 'he inquired, 'and what will you say?' 'Why, I shall tell them that I have been engaged so long a time in distributing Bibles among our soldiers; that I never met with but one refusal, and that he was a soldier from our own city.' 'Well, and what more will you say ?' 'Why, I shall tell them that I began to distribute Bibles this morning, at the White House,' a place somewhat like your Buckingham Palace, only not so fine. 'And who was the first man to whom I offered a copy? Why, it was to President Abraham Lincoln. When I went to see the President he was writing, and when I handed him a copy of Cromwell's Bible he stood up - and you know he was a very tall man and took a long time to straighten. He received the Bible and made me a low bow, and thanked me; and now I shall have to go back and tell him that one of his soldiers, who was fighting his battles, refused to take the book which he had accepted so gladly. 'The German softened at once. He said: 'Did the President take the book? - well, then, I guess I may take one too.'" An agent of the Commission in Tennessee came upon four soldiers playing cards. He proposed to buy the cards with a MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1008 ropy of the Scriptures for each, which they accepted. They desired his autograph in their books; but when he in turn asked for theirs they refused to indorse the cards, disclaiming an approval of the game, but resorting to it for lack of anything to read, by which their leisure hours could be filled. "At the bloody battle of Stone River," Mr. Stuart continued, "during a lull of the fight, the cries of a wounded soldier were heard, asking for assistance; but soon his voice was drowned in the renewed roar of the artillery. When the conflict was over, there came the ghastly work of sorting the dead from the living. When the men who were despatched for this service reached the spot from whence these cries proceeded, they found a lad of nineteen, dead, and leaning against the stump of a tree. His eyes were open, though fixed in death; a celestial smile was on his countenance; his well-worn Bible was open, with his finger, cold and stiff, pointing to that passage which has cheered the heart of many a dying Christian: 'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.' Oh, mother, wife, sister! if that had been your son, husband or brother, who had died under such circumstances, what would you not give for the possession of that blessed copy of the Word of God?" It has often been a matter of wonder whence came the boundless resources placed at the disposal of the Commission. In answering this, in response to the inquiry of a friend, Mr. Stuart said: "We relied on the voluntary contributions of the people and how nobly they responded! After the battle of Gettysburg, when tens of thousands of wounded and dying men were thrown upon our hands, I telegraphed in all directions. To Boston I telegraphed: 'Can I draw on you for $10,000 at sight?' It was stuck up in the exchange. The merchants at once formed in line to put down their subscriptions, and the answer came: 'Draw for $60,000.' And the little children helped us too. They made tens of thousands of little housewives, comfort-bags, as the soldiers called them, with buttons, needles and thread, comb, cake of soap, and, above all, a little tract or Testament, and sent them on through the Commission to the needy soldiers, and they did them a world of good." MRS. JOHN HARRIS - 1009 When delegations from the Commission visited Mr. Lincoln he always seemed gratified to have a few moments spent in prayer. After Mr. Johnson came to be inaugurated, misgivings were felt about proposing it. But Mr. Stuart never failed in resource, and on the very first visit to the President, as they were leaving, Mr. Stuart said: "Mr. Johnson, you have been called to the head of the nation at a very critical time." "Yes, yes," he said. "After a man who was the idol of the people." "Yes." "No man has been raised to a position where he stands more in need of divine help." "It is true." "Dr. --- will perhaps ask the Divine blessing and guidance for you before we go." The President made no objection and they all united in prayer. In all of the above Mr. Stuart has spoken for himself, and from the spirit with which his words are filled, it is not difficult to infer what manner of man he is. To him congenial work is rest. He has been a great sufferer from asthma, by which he has been prevented from reclining in bed for weeks together. Aside from this he is strong and well preserved, having ever practised strict temperance. He was married on the 11th of May, 1837, to Miss Martha K. Dennison. The issue has been nine children, only five of whom survive. He is nearly six feet in height, broad-shouldered, and is possessed of an exceedingly kind and benignant countenance. He has been offered a place in President Grant's cabinet, but has steadily declined. When the Commission was formed for securing the amelioration of the Indians, he was named as a member and has labored earnestly in carrying out its beneficent designs. MRS. JOHN HARRIS, of Philadelphia, who was with the wounded at the front during nearly the whole war, and moved by her pen in a remarkable degree the people of the North to deeds of charity, has won by her devotion and zeal the love and affection of the mutilated and perishing of both armies, and the lasting gratitude of the whole American people. "If," says Frank Moore, in his Women of the, War, "there were any such vain decorations of human approbation as a crown, or a wreath, or a star, for her who in the late war has done the MARTIAL, DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1010 most and labored the longest, who visited the greatest number of hospitals, prayed with the greatest number of suffering and dying soldiers, penetrated nearest to the front, and underwent the greatest amount of fatigue and exposure - that crown, or that star, would be rightfully given to Mrs. John Harris, of Philadelphia." On Sunday, the 21st of April, 1861, a notice was read in the several churches of Philadelphia calling a general meeting to perfect plans for establishing a hospital for the reception of the sick and wounded soldiers, and prepare bedding, bandages, and lint. That notice was drawn by the hand of Mrs. Harris. It called out an immediate and hearty response. Dr. Taylor, of the Third Reformed Dutch Church, says: "I shall never forget the impression made upon the audience by the simple reading of this notice. Pastor and people burst into tears together. It was absolutely overpowering. No blood had yet been shed. After the service some even doubted whether there would be any fighting. I was told by two or three persons that it was a premature notice, and calculated to produce needless alarm and anxiety among the people. But it was the first foreshadowing in our church of the actual preparation at home for the awful carnage that attended the great Rebellion. Out of this and other movements among the churches of Philadelphia grew the Ladies' Aid Societies of the city - noble heralds and aids of the Christian and Sanitary Commissions." The smoke had scarcely cleared away from the first battle-ground of the war when Mrs. Harris started for Washington, where during the weeks which followed she was unceasingly employed in ministering at the bedside of the suffering, whispering words of consolation to the dying, and receiving their last messages of affection. From the first she adopted the habit of writing regularly and fully to the officers of the society which she represented, and their reports abound in extracts from her correspondence. "Visiting the military hospitals of Washington, Georgetown, and Alexandria, two days after the Battle of Bull Run (Tuesday, July 23d), the value of our holy religion and its power to soothe were felt as never before. In the different hospitals about 500 wounded youth, with every variety and degree of injury, were MRS. JOHN HARRIS - l0ll found. Passing from cot to cot with almost bursting heart, 'Words of Jesus' were whispered into the ears of many of the sufferers. As the poor fellows caught the sound they looked up with cheerful countenances, and even glad surprise . . . . I was about to pass on when the position of his arm arrested me. 'You are wounded in the arm?' 'Yes.' 'I hope not seriously.' 'Yes; it was amputated at the elbow before I left the field.' Wholly unprepared for such an announcement my feelings overpowered me. He soothingly said: 'It is only my left arm. That is not much to give to my country. It might have been my life.' Another, a lovely youth, whose bright, restless eye, and flushed, cheek told of suffering, grasped my hand and gently pulled, me towards him, as I knelt beside him, and said: 'My dear boy, what can I do for you? Shall I talk to you of Jesus?' '0h, yes,' he said, 'I am used to that. I have loved Him, but not near enough, for two years; and now He is going to take me home.' 'You are very young. Have you a mother?' 'Oh, Yes!' Tears filled his eyes. 'It must have been a great trial to give you to your country.' 'Yes, it was. When I first mentioned it she would not hear me, but we both prayed over it, and at last she consented, saying, "My country deserves this sacrifice. I gave you to God, at your birth, and this is his cause."' As I fanned the dear boy, brushing back the hair from his beautiful forehead, he fell into a sleep. When I withdrew my hand he started and exclaimed: '0h! I dreamed that that was Annie's hand.' Won't you put it on my head again?' 'Who is Annie?' 'My twin-sister. We were seventeen since I left home.' This dear youth is now with the Saviour. He died from his wounds the next day." After the first battle of Bull Run there was little fighting in the Army of the Potomac until it reached the Peninsula in the spring of 1862. But the change from civil life to the camp brought many to the sick couch, and before the army moved Mrs. Harris had visited over a hundred hospitals and distributed the contributions of the Aid Societies, speaking words of comfort and Christian consolation and directing the minds of the dying. The malarial airs about Yorktown brought down men faster than the bullets of the enemy, and the hospitals were crowded. Soon after the battle of Williamsburg she wrote: "No language can give MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1012 the faintest idea of the scenes of suffering and deadly anguish through which we are passing . . . . Could you have visited with me, on Saturday, the largest ward of the Hygeia Hospital, your whole being would have thrilled with anguish. Friend and foe are crowded together without distinction - all suffering. The first one approached had been wounded in the thigh and arm. The leg had been amputated, and an extraction made of the broken bones in the arm. Surgeons had been probing the diseased portions, not heeding the shrieks of the sufferer, whom I found covered with cold sweat, and nearing the dark valley; indeed, the mists of the valley were settling over him. When the gracious words, 'Come unto me, all ye that are weary and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest,' were spoken, the suffering one looked up, and exclaimed: 'Rest, rest! Oh, where, where?' 'In the bosom of Jesus, if you will but lay your sins on him, and your suffering, throbbing heart close to his, you will be filled with rest in all the fulness of its meaning.' He tried to stay his faith on 'the Rock,' but very soon the unseen closed him in, and left us vainly endeavoring to follow the departing soul." In the same ward was a boy only nineteen, mortally wounded. "He begged me," she says, "to write to his mother 'a very long letter, sending a lock of my hair; but you needn't take the hair now; say everything to comfort her; but,' he added, 'I want her to know how her poor boy suffers; yes, I do that; she would feel so for me.' He lingered till Monday; and, after a painful operation, sank away most unexpectedly, and when I got there was in the dead-house. So I went into that dismal place, full of corpses, and cut a lock from the dead boy's head, and enclosed it to the mother, adding some words of comfort for the sorrow-stricken. He had received a religious training and told me to tell his mother he would meet her in heaven." After the battle of Fair Oaks the wounded were sent in ships to the hospitals below. From the Louisiana she writes: "The whole day had been spent in operating. In one pile lay seventeen arms, hands, feet and legs. A large proportion of the wounded had undergone mutilation in some important member. Many must die. Four lay with their faces covered, dying or dead. Many had not had their wounds dressed since the MRS. JOHN HARRIS - 1013 battle, and were in a sad state already. One brave fellow from Maine had lost both legs, but bore up with wonderful firmness. Upon my saying to him, 'You have suffered much for your country; we cannot thank you enough,' he replied: 'Oh, well, you hadn't ought to thank me. I went of my own accord, in a glorious cause.' . . . When I left the boat, at eleven o'clock at night, I was obliged to wash all my skirts, they having been draggled in the mingled blood of Federal and Confederate soldiers, which covered many portions of the floor. I was obliged to kneel between them to wash their faces. This is war." When a conflict was imminent she was with the moving column, and was brought, not unfrequently, under fire. From the Antietam field she wrote: "Night was closing in upon us - the rain falling fast; the sharpshooters were threatening all who ventured near our wounded and dying on the battle-ground; a line of battle in view, artillery in motion, litters and ambulances going in all directions; wounded picking their way, now lying down to rest, some before they were out of the range of the enemy's guns, not a few of whom received their severest wounds in these places of imagined safety; add to this, marching and counter-marching of troops; bearers of despatches hurrying to and fro; eager, anxious inquirers after the killed and wounded; and the groans of the poor sufferers under the surgeons' hands, - and you may form some faint idea of our position on that eventful evening. Reaching a hospital hut but a few removes from the corn-field in which the deadliest of the strife was waged, I found the ground literally covered with the dead and wounded - barns, hayricks, outhouses of every description, all full. Here and there a knot of men, with a dim light near, told of amputations; whilst the shrieks and groans of the poor fellows, lying all around, made our hearts almost to stand still . . . . We were called to pray with a dying Christian; and I feel the grasp of his hand yet, as we knelt, in the rain, in the dark night, with only the glimmering lights around the operating tables, and looked up to the Father of our Lord and Saviour for his mercy and grace to fall upon the dying man, and all his comrades clustering round us needing dying grace. Then we sang, 'There is rest for the weary,' Miss G.'s loud clear voice leading. The sounds stopped MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1014 the shrieks and groans of the brave men. They listened. They all seemed comforted. It was then midnight, or near it. Before the next sun threw its rays in upon these twelve hundred wounded soldiers, the darkness of death had settled upon eleven sons, husbands and fathers whose hearts had throbbed healthfully with loving thoughts of home and country but a few hours before. We had slept a few hours on the straw upon which our soldiers had lain and upon which their life-blood had been poured out. We prepared tea, bread and butter, milk-punch and egg-nog; furnished rags, lint and bandages as needed, and then came on to French's division hospital, where were one thousand of our wounded, and a number of Confederates. The first night we slept in our ambulance; no room in the small house, the only dwelling near, could be procured. The next day was the Sabbath. The sun shone brightly; the bees anti the birds were joyous and busy; a beautiful landscape spread out before us, and we knew the Lord of the Sabbath looked down upon us. But with all these above and around, we could see only our suffering, uncomplaining soldiers, mutilated, bleeding, dying. Almost every hour I witnessed the going out of some young life." Her picture of the field as it presented itself to her after the battle was over is vivid, and has the merit of truthfulness, the narrative being written from amid the scenes described: "Stretched out in every direction, as far as the eye could reach, were the dead and dying. Much the larger proportion must have died instantly - their positions, some with ramrod in hand to load, others with gun in hand as if about to aim, others still having just discharged their murderous fire. Some were struck in the act of eating. One poor fellow still held a potato in his grasp. Another, clutched a piece of tobacco; others held their canteens as if to drink; one grasped a letter. Two were strangely poised upon a fence, having been killed in the act of leaping it. How my heart sickens at the recollection of the appearance of these men who had left their homes in all the pride of manly beauty." A kind of nourishment which she compounded of corn-meal, ground ginger, wine, and crackers, for the pickets as they came in from their vigils where they bad buffeted the storm in wintry MRS. JOHN HARRIS - 1015 nights, was remarkably popular. She called it hot ginger panada, and without doubt it saved many a soldier from painful sickness and even death. After Chancellorsville, in May, 1863, she says, writing on the 18th: "We filled two ambulances with bread and butter, prepared stewed fruit, egg-nog, lemons, oranges, cheese, shirts, drawers, stockings, and handkerchiefs; and went out to meet a train of ambulances bearing the wounded from United States Ford." The wounded had been left in the enemy's hands and were now being brought in. Their wounds had reached that stage when the slightest motion is agony. The ways were rough, and the jars and jolts brought excruciating torment. "No pen," she says," can describe the scene. Amputations and dressings had been hurriedly gone over, and then much neglected; for the rebel surgeons had more than enough to occupy them in the care of their own wounded. By day and by night I see their poor mutilated limbs red with inflammation, bones protruding, worms rioting, as they were held over the sides of the ambulance to catch the cooling breeze. . . .For six mornings we have prepared five gallons of custard, using six dozen eggs, and about eight gallons of puddings." With a supply of chloroform and stimulants she left Baltimore on the 4th of July for Gettysburg, ministering to the wounded as they came in car-loads from the front. From the field she wrote: "Am full of work and sorrow. The appearance of things here beggars all description. Our dead lie unburied, and our wounded neglected. Numbers have been drowned by the sudden rise in the waters of the creek bottoms, and thousands of them are still naked and starving. God pity us! - pity us!" Seeing sufficient aid hourly arriving to care for the wounded here, she pushed on with supplies after the army, which was in expectation of fighting another great battle, continuing with the moving columns. Early in October the Aid Society in Philadelphia decided to send her to the armies in Tennessee. At Nashville she met numbers of the Union refugees, who had come in from the mountains to escape the iron grasp of rebel rule, whose unfortunate condition challenged pity. "It is a very dark picture," she says, "made up of miserable-looking women and old men, with naked children of all ages. Many came here to die, no provision being 1016 MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA. made for them, other than the food and shelter afforded by Government. After herding together indiscriminately in some dirty wareroom, or unfinished, unfurnished tenement, in ill-ventilated apartments, they become an easy prey to that foe of all ill-clad and ill-fed - typhus fever. It comes in the form of a chill followed by fever, and this is succeeded by jabbering idiocy, with no great suffering, except to sympathizers. The mind is filled with old home- scenes; ghastly smiles, more saddening by far than tears, play over wan and haggard faces; the patient sinks, in a few days fills a Government coffin, and is carried to a nameless grave." The labors of Mrs. Harris were directed to collecting supplies and money from the States to the northward, returning to Louisville for this purpose, and then going forward to Chattanooga, where the Union armies were assembled. Referring to the BATTLE ABOVE THE CLOUDS, at Lookout Mountain, she says: "As I write, an ambulance passes, bearing the remains of four heroes of the late battles; all of them full of hope when I came here, and though wounded, talking only of victory; one telling how vexed he felt when the bullet struck him, half way up the hill; another rejoicing that he got to the top; another that he grasped the flag, and held it aloft nearly at the top - is sure the old 'Stars and Stripes' saw the top if he didn't. And so they talked for days, only of their country's triumph. But a change passed over them. Gangrene was commencing its ravages, and they were carried from their comrades and put in tents lest the poison might be communicated to their wounded fellow-sufferers. There, in the 'gangrene ward,' the glory of battle and victory faded away, as the fatal disease bore them nearer and nearer to the great eternity that shuts out all sounds of war. Then the fearful misgivings that took the place of the hopes of earthly glory were deeply engraven on their poor wan faces, and began to be whispered in the ears of Christian sympathy." But she who was abounding in sympathy and love for suffering humanity, whether friend or foe, the mutilated from the field or the wanderer from his home, and who was willing to wear her own life out that she might raise others to health, herself at length fell a victim to disease. For many days life hung trem- MRS. HANNAH MOORE - 1017 bling in the balance; but she was mercifully restored, and characteristically wrote: "I feel almost ashamed to consume your time with any account of it, the suffering all around me is of such an intense character." She resumed her labors, when recovered, in the great hospitals about Chattanooga, and during the early part of 1864 was never more active, and writes: "My experiences since I reached Chattanooga have been the most painful of the three past eventful years. In looking back, amazement seizes me, and the attempt to rehearse them seems futile. War, famine, and pestilence have made up the warp and woof of our soldier life." Thus to the end of the war was she devoted to the care of the suffering and disconsolate, reviving their drooping spirits not only by relieving their physical wants, but in breaking to them the bread of life, and preparing them for entrance to the spirit world. By the blessing of God hundreds of lives were saved by her tender and assiduous care, and many more were comforted and consoled in their dying hour. For her angelic ministrations she has won the lasting gratitude of the whole American people. After the close of hostilities Mrs. Harris returned to that quiet, unobtrusive way of life which she had quitted on going to the field, and shrinking from notoriety appears only solicitous for the plaudit of the Master, "Well done, good and faithful servant." MRS. HANNAH MOORE, a martyr to her zeal and industry in behalf of sick and wounded soldiers, was born in the State of New York, on the 16th of April, 1816. She first visited Meadville, Pennsylvania, in 1848, and a few years afterwards took up her abode there permanently. Of a delicate and sensitive organization, her feelings were always easily touched by scenes of suffering, and she was quick to respond to calls of charity and mercy. When war, with its train of wretchedness and misery came, in 1861, Mrs. Moore was not slow to discern the need of systematic effort in laboring to stimulate benevolence, in collecting stores, and in providing measures for their distribution. Without the incitement of the spectacle of pain and sorrow to move her, she devoted herself unceasingly, as President MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1018 of the Meadville Relief Association, in arousing the active interest of those throughout the entire county who might otherwise have been lukewarm or indifferent, in conducting the daily duties of her office, receiving material in every variety of form and condition, preparing and packing for transportation, and conducting a correspondence with other societies and with agents at distant points. Her friend, Miss E. G. Huidekoper, says of her: "Thoroughness was one of Mrs. Moore's characteristics. Whatever she undertook, she endeavored to do in the best way, at whatever cost of toil and energy to herself. Her labors were not confined to the Relief Rooms. Almost the whole of her strength and time were devoted to the work before going to the Rooms, and after her return, frequently till late at night, though very weary with the duties at the society meeting. She wrote many letters to neighboring societies and to individuals whom she thought would contribute, encouraging them to continue their donations, or giving, needed information, and promptly acknowledging contributions." During the year 1863 there were shipped from the Rooms eighty-six boxes, twenty-one barrels, and sixteen firkins, to the following points: Fortress Monroe, Frederick, Baltimore, Washington, Philadelphia, Gettysburg, and Cleveland. The material usually came in crude form, and everything needed to be assorted and prepared for transportation. All this received her constant personal supervision. There were made up at the Rooms of the Central Society in Meadville, 3536 yards of cotton, and 600 yards of flannel. The parties to whom these packages were addressed are unanimous in their acknowledgment of their great value and excellent condition. In a letter from the Central Office for Northern Ohio, at Cleveland, the Manager says: "As always, they were extremely valuable. You have accomplished wonders in your society, and especially have you in your own person." Again on the 18th and 20th of July, 1863, Miss Mahan writes: "We have received from your society, twelve boxes and one keg of hospital stores. I will not attempt to repeat, what Miss Brayton has so often expressed to you, our cordial, hearty admiration of your noble society." Again, on the 31st, the same hand acknowledges the receipt, "July, 22d, of one keg, July 24th, of MRS. HANNAH MOORE - 1019 six boxes and one keg, and July 28th, of five boxes (Nos. 70 to 82, inclusive). For them all you have our renewed thanks. Your first shipment of last week of twelve boxes and one keg was sent on the 24th to Louisville, for Vicksburg and Port Hudson. The remainder will be forwarded next week to Nashville." We thus see how the patient labors of this devoted woman, far removed from danger or the excitement of arriving and departing troops, resulted in scattering comforts and relief at the great centres of conflict at a time when urgently needed. From Frederick, Maryland, on the 27th of August, Miss Bantz writes: "The boxes were received, after some delay, in good condition; for which please accept our thanks, as also for the kind interest you manifest toward us. If all in charge had their hearts in the work, it would add greatly to the comfort of our brave boys, who have so nobly left their homes and loved ones for the cause." From St. Louis, the Rev. W. G. Eliot, D. D., writes: "We acknowledge with much pleasure the receipt of two admirably well-filled boxes, which arrived yesterday in excellent order. As there are now nearly 2000 in hospital here, and 500 more expected from the interior camps, or with the returning army, your kindness will not have been in vain." Mr. Joseph Shippen, an agent of the Sanitary Commission, who was employed on the Gettysburg field soon after the close of the battle, writes on the 30th of July: "A pleasing feature of the hospital was that our men bore so heroically, almost jubilantly, their sufferings. A soldier would tell you first what regiment he belonged to, and where he was hit, and then, 'Oh, but didn't we make them skedaddle! They thought they were going to fight nothing but militia, and found here the old Army of the Potomac.' Whatever the individual loss, whether one leg or two, every man rejoiced in the battle gained. A second redeeming feature was the grand manifestation of the patriotism, humanity, and Christianity of our land through the voluntary relief afforded to the sufferers. Surrounded by a pile of boxes, on one of which she was seated, a lady with an intelligent face, in very plain attire, was pointed out to me as Miss Dix, Mrs. Harris of Philadelphia, was also on the ground with stores. The Baltimore firemen had a depot from which were distributed many MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1020 supplies to our wounded. The Adams' Express Company also had stores which were devoted to the same good object. The Christian Commission was largely represented by some two hundred delegates, for the most part preachers and divinity students from all parts of the country. On this emergency the same promptness and liberality was shown by the Sanitary Commission that has marked its course on all the great battle-fields of the war. With Meade's advancing columns several army wagon-loads of supplies were pushed forward and afforded great relief on the second and third days of the fight. While the cannon were dealing out death and destruction, these gifts of the people possessed a life- saving power. Some of the surgeons were ready to exclaim, "In the name of heaven, where did the Sanitary Commission come from!" . . . Among the many articles dealt out with liberal hand to the hospitals were ten thousand pounds of fresh soft bread, ten thousand pounds of fresh poultry packed in ice, five tons of fresh vegetables, ten thousand dozen of fresh eggs, five thousand shirts and drawers, three hundred boxes of lemons and oranges, one ton of tamarinds, ten thousand pounds of condensed milk, and a like amount of concentrated beef, together with large quantities of sheets, towels, slippers, gowns, bandages, fans, etc. These rude estimates of quantities were made of what had been distributed during the first two weeks after the battle . . . . Coming through the regular channels of supply, the wounded are generally ignorant that they are the free-will offering of the people. I asked a wounded man from Crawford county where he had got his clean white shirt and drawers, and he did not know until I showed and explained to him the mark of the 'U. S. San. Com.' . . . The Commission dealt out generously to the wounded rebels, and many were the expressions of appreciation and thanks made by surgeons, officers, and men . . . . The Commission did a grand work of special relief in feeding, sheltering, and assisting the wounded at the railroad station before starting for Baltimore . . . . Each day hundreds would find their way to the town from the woods and fields with heads bound up or arm in a sling, or with wound in the foot or leg, not so severe as to prevent their limping along or hobbling with the help of a fence- rail or pole cut in the woods. Poor MRS. HANNAH MOORE - 1021 Fellows! it made one's heart bleed to see them tottering along, so weak and so suffering. At the depot we had six large tents, where they could lie and rest on clean hay, have their wounds dressed, receive food and such articles of clothing as they needed . . . . Hot soup and hot coffee were always kept ready, and fresh bread, soft crackers, and cold water were at hand in abundance. Thus from six to twelve hundred wounded were fed each day for a fortnight." A letter addressed to Mrs. Moore by Miss Brayton, of the 11th of August, thus acknowledges the value and extent of her labors: "Miss Mahan tells me that the receipts from your society are 'perfectly astonishing.' I can well believe it, when I remember that you are charged with the whole duty of arousing the county, gathering in donations, packing and shipping. The task you have imposed upon yourself is a heavy one. I hope your health will not fail under it. We are always glad to hear that a Meadville Box is on the way, knowing its contents will rejoice many a poor sufferer's heart." The solicitude expressed in the above extract for the health of Mrs. Moore proved to have been reasonably excited. It was impossible that the most firm and enduring constitution could long withstand the strain which she voluntarily took upon herself. Wearing labors by day, and anxiety by night, made such inroads upon her strength that she was finally obliged to resign her office of President, Secretary and Treasurer of the Association, being succeeded by Mrs. William Thorpe, and after a short illness sank to the grave, as really a martyr to the cause of her country as he who pours out his lifeblood upon the field of battle. In personal appearance she was rather above the medium height, of fine figure, with dark and expressive eyes, easy and graceful in her manners. She had that kindness of heart which prompts to generous action, and which lies at the foundation of politeness and attractiveness in social life. Gifted by nature with more than ordinary mental endowments, persons of high culture enjoyed her society for the vivacity of her spirit, for her quickness of appreciation, and that subtle refinement of thought which is more of a gift than an acquisition, betokening the finest mould of humanity. On the other hand she won the hearts of those in humble life by the MARTIAL DEEDS OF PENNSYLVANIA - 1022 abandon with which she placed herself in communion and sympathy with their condition, their trials or their sufferings. She had a wonderful faculty of animating others with her own zeal and enthusiasm, and her magnetic power made those about her esteem it a privilege, instead of a drudgery, to be permitted to cooperate with her in her labors. Her good taste, her love of order, and her kindness of heart all came into play in her efforts in behalf of the sick and wounded soldiers during the war, and she remained at her post of duty until failing health drove her away from it. The following stanzas formed part of an obituary notice, and the prediction in the concluding lines finds its fulfilment in the memorial wreath annually placed upon her grave on Decoration Day, by the Boys in Blue, who hold her services and sacrifices in their behalf in grateful remembrance: "The poor, whose humble homes ye oft have sought, With blessings breathed they name; And the sick soldier on his lonely cot, To whom thy offerings came- "Genial alike unto the old and young, E'en childhood at thy knee, Spell-bound, with radiant visage, hung, Charmed with they sympathy. "Farewell! Thy cheerful voice which banish'd gloom Is lost to social ring; Yet loving hands shall ofttimes strew thy tomb With the fresh flowers of spring."