"How
easily church edifices could be built, pastors supported,
missionaries sustained, colleges endowed, and every good cause pushed
forward, if we had in our Churches today anything like the spirit of
these Christian soldiers”
“How often have I seen
these brave fellows, after they had won a hardly contested field,
despite their almost exhaustion, going over the ground to hunt up and
care for the wounded of the enemy – binding up their wounds as best
they could, carrying them to the field hospitals, and providing
surgical attendance, sharing with them their scant rations, bringing
them water, building brush shelters to protect them from the sun, and
proving 'good Samaritans' indeed to men whom they had so lately met
in the shock of battle."
"I might give scores of
illustrations of this point, but must content myself now with the
story of Richard Kirkland, 'the humane hero of Fredericksburg,' as it
is told by the gallant soldier and able jurist, General J. B.
Kershaw, of South Carolina (now Judge Kershaw), who commanded the
brigade at the time. I will only premise that Kirkland had professed
conversion [to Christianity] but a short time before, and will give
the incident in General Kershaw's own words:
“Camden, South Carolina, January 29, 1880.
To the Editor of the News and Courier:
Your Columbia correspondent referred to the incident narrated here, telling the story as 'twas told to him, and inviting corrections. As such a deed should be recorded in the rigid simplicity of actual truth, I take the liberty of send you for publication an accurate account of a transaction ever feature of which is indelibly impressed upon my memory.”
Very truly yours,“J.B. Kershaw.”
"Richard Kirkland was the
son of John Kirkland, an estimable citizen of Kershaw county, a
plain, substantial farmer of the olden time. In 1861he entered, as a
private, Captain J.D. Kennedy's Company (E) of the Second South
Carolina Volunteers, in which company he was a sergeant in December,
1862."
"The day after the
sanguinary battle of Fredrericksburg, Kershaw's Brigade occupied the
road at the foot of Marye's hill and the ground above Marye's house,
the scene of their desperate defense of the day before. One hundred
and fifty yards in front of the road, the stone-facing of which
constituted the famous stone wall, lay Syke's Division of Regulars,
United States Army, between whom and our troops a murderous skirmish
occupied the whole day, fatal to many who heedlessly exposed
themselves, even for a moment. The ground between the lines was
bridged with the wounded, dead, and dying Federals, victims of the
many desperate and gallant assaults of that column of 30,000 brave
men hurled vainly against that impregnable position."
"All that day those wounded
men rent the air with their groans and agonizing cries of 'Water!
Water!' In the afternoon the general sat in the north room, upstairs,
of Mrs. Steven's house, in front of the road, surveying the field,
when Kirkland came up. With an expression of indignant remonstrance
pervading his person, his manner, and the tone of his voice, he said:
“General! I can't stand this.”
“What is the matter sergeant?” asked the general.
He replied: “All night and day I have heard those poor people crying for water, and I can stand it no longer. I come to ask permission to go and give them water.”
The general regarded him
for a moment with feelings of profound admiration, and said:
“Kirkland, don't you know that you would get a bullet through your head the moment you stepped over the wall?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, “I know that; but if you will let me, I am willing to try it.”
After a pause the general
said:
“Kirkland, I ought not to allow you to run such a risk, but the sentiment which actuates you is so noble that I will not refuse your request, trusting that God may protect you. You may go.”
The sergeant’s eye
lighted up with pleasure. He said,
“Thank you, sir,”
and ran
rapidly down-stairs. The general heard him pause for a moment, and
then return, bounding two steps at a time. He thought the sergeant's
heart had failed him. He was mistaken. The sergeant stopped at the
door and said:
“General, can I show a white handkerchief ?"
The general slowly shook his head, saying
emphatically,
“No, Kirkland, you can't do that.”
“All right,” he said, “I'll take my chances,” and ran down with a bright smile on his handsome countenance.
"With profound anxiety he
was watched as he stepped over the wall on his errand of mercy –
Christ-like mercy. Unharmed he reached the nearest sufferer. He knelt
beside him, tenderly raising the drooping head, rested it gently upon
his own noble breast, and poured the precious life-giving fluid down
the fever scorched throat. This done, he laid him tenderly down,
placed his knapsack under his head, straightened out his broken limb,
spread his overcoat over him, replaced his empty canteen with a full
one, and turned to another sufferer. By this time his purpose was
well understood on both sides, and all danger was over. From all
parts of the field arose fresh cries of 'water, water; for God's
sake, water!” More piteous still the mute appeal of some who could
only feebly lift a hand to say there, too, was life and suffering."
"For an hour and a half did
this ministering angel pursue his labor of mercy, not ceased to go
and return until he relieved all the wounded on that part of the
field. He returned to his post wholly unhurt. Who shall say how sweet
his rest that winter's night beneath the cold stars!"
"Little remains to be told.
Sergeant Kirkland distinguished himself in battle at Gettysburg, and
was promoted lieutenant. At Chickamauga he fell on the field of
battle, in the hour of victory. He was but a youth when called away,
and had never formed those ties from which might have resulted a
posterity to enjoy his fame and bless his country; but he has
bequeathed to the American youth – yea, to the world – an example
which dignifies our common humanity."
Selection from Christ
in the Camp or Religion in the Confederate Army by
Reverend J. William Jones, D.D. Reverend Jones was the Chaplin in the
Army of Northern Virginia.
Chapter XIII “Results
of the Work and Proofs of its Genuineness”
This is an inscription upon a monument commemorating the compassionate act of mercy toward the enemy by Sergeant Richard Kirkland.
At the risk of his life this American soldier of sublime compassion brought water to his wounded foes at Fredericksburg. The fighting men on both sides of the line called him “The Angel of Marye's Heights.
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