CHAPTER VI

THE HOSPITAL FARM AND CHAPEL

In a letter to the Hon. William Cullen Bryant, then editor of the _Evening Post_, Edward gives an account of the establishment of his hospital farm, and tells of its benefit to the men under his care.

"HON. WILLIAM C. BRYANT--DEAR SIR: The meeting in behalf of 'New York's disabled soldiers' has deeply interested me and awakened many war memories. During the last two years of the Rebellion I had some experience, in a small way, which may suggest useful features in a Soldiers' Home. At that time I was one of the chaplains of the Fortress Monroe hospitals, and the campaigns in the vicinity of Petersburg and Richmond often filled our long barracks to repletion and also covered the adjacent acres with temporary tent wards. Lying around the hospital there was an abundance of idle and unfenced land. With the sanction of Doctor McClellan, the surgeon in charge, I had this enclosed and planted with such vegetables as were most useful and conducive to health, the odorous onion taking the lead. The tulip mania had its day, but the weakness of average humanity for this bulb is as old as history--see Numbers xi., 5--and apparently it is only growing more prevalent with the ages. If this is evolution in the wrong direction Mr. Huxley should look after it.

"The labor of the hospital farm was performed by the patients themselves, and very many soon became deeply interested in their tasks. When a man became so far convalescent from illness or wounds as to be able to do a little work, he was detailed for the garden and employed in its lighter labors. As he grew stronger he was put at heavier work. Heroes who had lost arms and legs supplemented each other's deficiencies, the two maimed men contriving to do between them far more than many a stout fellow who now demands $1.50 a day. A man with one hand could sow seed and weed the growing vegetables, while his comrade hitched along on his crutch and vigorously hoed the ground between the rows. I sometimes had as many as a hundred men at work, and I ever found that such tasks benefited body and soul. It did one's heart good to see pallid faces grow brown and ruddy, and flabby muscles round and hard. It did one more good thus easily to banish home-sickness and the miserable incubus of _ennui_ from which the sufferer is prone to seek relief in some form of vicious excitement. For the satisfaction of those who ask for more practical results I can state that we were able to send green vegetables to the hospital kitchens by the wagonload. As the record of the second year at the farm, made at the time, I find among other items the following: 700 bushels of snap beans in the pod, 120 do. lima beans, 130 do. carrots, 125 do. peas, 470 do. potatoes, 250 do. tomatoes, 1,500 bunches of green onions, 30,000 heads of cabbage, 26,900 ears of sweet corn, 2,500 muskmelons, etc. A large poultry yard, enclosing four acres, was also built, and many other improvements made, all being accomplished by the willing labor of the convalescents themselves, who more rapidly regained their strength while thus furnishing the means of health to those still confined within the walls.

"Recalling these facts I am greatly pleased to learn that the 'New York Home' is to be located on a farm, for thus it may be made a _home_ in reality. Providence put the first man into a garden, and few men have lived since who have not felt more at home when a garden lay about the door."

During the years that Edward was at Hampton Hospital, his friend Mr. Merwin was doing a noble work among the soldiers in the hospitals at the front, under the direction of the Christian Commission. My brother at one time wished to be relieved of his duties as chaplain for several weeks, and Mr. Merwin kindly consented to take his place. He afterwards wrote of this time:--

"I found that Edward's presence among the sick and wounded was sadly missed, and that he had labored in many ways to contribute to their comfort and happiness. He brought from the North an experienced farmer and supplied the hospital with an abundance of excellent vegetables. Subsequently a church was erected by his efforts for the growing needs of that post."

While absent at the North my brother raised most of the funds necessary to build this chapel at Hampton. When he revisited the place years afterward, he found the chapel still in use. He was gratified also to learn that the hospital library continued to be of service. He says:

"Some of us rode out to the former site of the hospital. Many pleasant changes have occurred. The acres of ground occupied by sick and wounded men are now covered with orchards and the homes of peaceful industry. The hospital garden has in part become the grounds of a college for freed-men, and is in a high state of cultivation. The college itself is a fine building, and under the able, energetic administration of General Armstrong, is full of promise for the race that we have so long kept in ignorance. He is teaching them many things of vital use, and among these one of the most important is a wise, economical culture of the ground. The chapel to which we have referred is inclosed within the cemetery grounds, and only needs a few repairs now and then, to preserve it a substantial church for many years to come. I was told that there had been religious services in it nearly every Sabbath since the war.

"The soldiers' monument, now seen for the first time, impressed me most favorably. In its severe simplicity it truthfully commemorates the lives and characters of those who sleep beneath. Over three hundred dollars was given to me by the soldiers in twenty-five and fifty cent stamps and one-dollar bills, and with some these gifts were almost like the widow's mite--all they had. It was most gratifying to see how nobly their wish and purpose had been carried out. That it has been so is due to that friend of the soldier and of all humanity, Miss D. L. Dix, who to the mites of the hospital patients added thousands of dollars collected elsewhere."

From another letter I take Edward's description of the chapel.

"The building is cruciform in its shape, and at the foot rises a light and graceful tower and spire, sixty feet high, surmounted by a cross showing each way. The style of architecture is Gothic. The chapel-room is thirty feet by sixty, with a high, arched ceiling. It is beautifully and smoothly plastered, and whitened with some kind of hard finish. Two aisles run down the room, thus making three tiers of seats. These are somewhat Gothic in their form, and are stained black-walnut, surmounted by a white round moulding, which makes a pleasing contrast. In the place where the head of the cross should have been, there is merely a small projection from the main building, forming in the large chapel-room an alcove or recess. A beautiful Gothic frame containing two medium-sized and one large window of stained glass forms the rear of this projection, and aids in lighting the room. All the windows in the chapel part are of stained glass, and they render the light very soft and pleasant. I found them about as cheap as curtains, and much more pretty and durable. The space in the alcove is occupied by a slightly raised platform and a plain, simple pulpit, still lacking a cushion. It is a very easy room to speak in, and in it music sounds remarkably well. The left arm of the cross, towards the hospital, constitutes the library, and is a large, airy room, thirty feet by twenty-four, furnished with tables, book-shelves, and reading-desks. Our collection of books is said to be one of the finest in the hospital service. Here also will be found the magazines, dailies, and weeklies, and prominent among our files will be _The Evangelist_. The right arm of the cross consists of four small but pleasant rooms, and will now be used as the chaplain's quarters, and at some future time as a parsonage.

"The building is of a dark color, with white doors and window-frames. Around the entire structure has been built a rustic Gothic fence, constructed of smooth pine poles, and forming a heart-shaped enclosure. Therefore we have the following device: the church in the centre of the heart."

Soon after Edward's return from the North to his work at the hospital there was a marked revival of religion among the sick and wounded men. He says:--

"I think the most marked feature of the revival is the reclamation of those who have gone astray--who have found the temptations of camp life too powerful to be resisted. Since I have been in the service I have met hundreds of soldiers who acknowledged that they had been professors of religion at home. They had entered the army with the best of intentions, but the lack of Sabbath privileges, of the sacred influences of the hearth, and all the numberless aids which bolster up a church member at the North, together with the strong and positive allurements to sin in the field, had discovered to them their weakness and they had fallen. But in most cases it would seem that the old vital spark still smouldered at the bottom of their hearts. According to their own confessions, they are restless and dissatisfied, and unable to attain to the stolid or reckless apathy of those who have never tasted of the heavenly manna. Put them under the influence of an earnest prayer-meeting or faithful sermon, and they are like old rheumatic flies in an April sun, or the apparently dead and leafless trees in the warm breath of spring, or the veteran soldier who hears the familiar call to arms after years of ignoble peace. It is very interesting to watch them in our meetings. The first evening they take seats far back, and look around with an uneasy air, as if almost ashamed to be seen. The next evening they sit near the leader. They soon venture to respond faintly to some of the more earnest prayers. At last, unable to restrain the rising tide of feeling, they rise up, and often with tears and penitence confess their backslidings, resolve to be faithful hereafter, and ask the prayers of all present that they may never be so weak as to wander again. They then take their places amongst those whom I call the fighting part of the congregation--those whose active aid I can rely upon.

"In one of the wards, where 'the straightforward Christian' (as I call him) is on duty, they are having a little revival by themselves. He gives its inmates no peace till they become Christians in self-defence. During the beautiful moonlight nights of last month, he organized a little prayer-meeting, which met on the banks of an arm of the bay that runs up into the mainland near the ward, and there claimed and verified the promise of 'Where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them.'

"God does seem near the soldiers, and the soldiers as a general thing are ready to respond to His gracious invitations, not only here but elsewhere, and in fact in every place where Christians are willing to come down, or rather up to their level, and work among them with a genuine, heartfelt sympathy.

"In a recent letter from the front, my brother, Rev. Alfred C. Roe, Chaplain 104th N.Y.V., writes: 'We have weekly and almost daily conversions. Our prayer-meetings, though held in the trenches, and often in close proximity to the enemy, are largely attended, and unless prevented by important business the colonel is always present. The staff at headquarters is like a Christian family.'

"I have found by experience that the formal presentation of Gospel truth once a week by an officer in chaplain's uniform, or in any other, does not amount to much, unless faithfully followed up by personal effort and the social prayer-meeting. The religion of our Saviour, presented in the spirit of our Saviour, rarely fails to move even the rough soldier. I have found a most efficient colaborer in Chaplain Billingsly, also in Chaplain Raymond."