A council was soon holden to decide what to do with us. One proposed to

place us under arrest, a sentiment we rather hoped might prevail, as it

might prevent our being sent on to the front; but another, in some spite

and impatience, insisted, as it was their duty to supply a gun to every

man and forward him, that the guns should be put upon us, and we be made

to carry them. Accordingly the equipment was buckled about us, and the

straps of the guns being loosened, they were thrust over our heads and

hung upon our shoulders. In this way we were urged forward through the

streets of Alexandria; and, having been put upon a long train of dirt

cars, were started for Culpeper. We came over a long stretch of

desolated and deserted country, through battlefields of previous

summers, and through many camps now lively with the work of this present

campaign. Seeing, for the first time, a country made dreary by the

war-blight, a country once adorned with groves and green pastures and

meadows and fields of waving grain, and happy with a thousand homes, now

laid with the ground, one realizes as he can in no other way something

of the ruin that lies in the trail of a war. But upon these fields of

Virginia, once so fair, there rests a two-fold blight, first that of

slavery, now that of war. When one contrasts the face of this country

with the smiling hillsides and vales of New England, he sees stamped

upon it in characters so marked, none but a blind man can fail to read,

the great irrefutable arguments against slavery and against war, too;

and must be filled with loathing for these twin relics of barbarism, so

awful in the potency of their consequences that they can change even the

face of the country.

Through the heat of this long ride, we felt our total lack of water and

the meagreness of our supply of food. Our thirst became so oppressive

as we were marched here from Culpeper, some four miles with scarcely a

halt to rest, under our heavy loads, and through the heat and deep dust

of the road, that we drank water and dipped in the brooks we passed,

though it was discoloured with the soap the soldiers had used in

washing. The guns interfered with our walking, and, slipping down,

dragged with painful weight upon our shoulders. Poor P.D. fell out from

exhaustion and did not come in till we had been some little time at the

camp. We were taken to the 4th Vermont regiment and soon apportioned to

companies. Though we waited upon the officer commanding the company in

which we were placed, and endeavoured to explain our situation, we were

required immediately after to be present at inspection of arms. We

declined, but an attempt was made to force us to obedience, first, by

the officers of the company, then, by those of the regiment; but,

failing to exact obedience of us, we were ordered by the colonel to be

tied, and, if we made outcry, to be gagged also, and to be kept so till

he gave orders for our release. After two or three hours we were

relieved and left under guard; lying down on the ground in the open air,

and covering ourselves with our blankets, we soon fell asleep from

exhaustion, and the fatigue of the day.

This morning the officers told us we must yield. We must obey and serve.

We were threatened great severities and even death. We seem perfectly at

the mercy of the military power, and, more, in the hands of the inferior

officers, who, from their being far removed from Washington, feel less

restraint from those Regulations of the Army, which are for the

protection of privates from personal abuse.

_26th._ [_9th_ month.]--Yesterday my mind was much agitated: doubts and

fears and forebodings seized me. I was alone, seeking a resting-place

and finding none. It seemed as if God had forsaken me in this dark hour;

and the Tempter whispered, that after all I might be only the victim of

a delusion. My prayers for faith and strength seemed all in vain.

But this morning I enjoy peace, and feel as though I could face

anything. Though I am as a lamb in the shambles, yet do I cry, "Thy will

be done," and can indeed say,--

Passive to His holy will

Trust I in my Master still

Even though he slay me.

I mind me of the anxiety of our dear friends about home, and of their

prayers for us.

Oh, praise be to the Lord for the peace and love and resignation that

has filled my soul today! Oh, the passing beauty of holiness! There is

a holy life that is above fear; it is a close communion with Christ. I

pray for this continually but am not free from the shadow and the

tempter. There is ever present with us the thought that perhaps we shall

serve the Lord the most effectually by our death, and desire, if that be

the service He requires of us, that we may be ready and resigned.

REGIMENTAL HOSPITAL, 4th Vermont. _29th._ [_9th_ month.]--On the evening

of the 26th the Colonel came to us apologizing for the roughness with

which he treated us at first, which was, as he insisted, through

ignorance of our real character and position. He told us if we persisted

in our course, death would probably follow; though at another time he

confessed to P.D. that this would only be the extreme sentence of

court-martial.

He urged us to go into the hospital, stating that this course was

advised by Friends about New York. We were too well aware of such a fact

to make any denial, though it was a subject of surprise to us that he

should be informed of it. He pleaded with us long and earnestly, urging

us with many promises of indulgence and favour and attentions we found

afterwards to be untrue. He gave us till the next morning to consider

the question and report our decision. In our discussion of the subject

among ourselves, we were very much perplexed. If all his statements

concerning the ground taken by our Society were true, we seemed to be

liable, if we persisted in the course which alone seemed to us to be in

accordance with Truth, to be exposed to the charge of over-zeal and

fanaticism even among our own brethren. Regarding the work to be done in

hospital as one of mercy and benevolence, we asked if we had any right

to refuse its performance; and questioned whether we could do more good

by endeavouring to bear to the end a clear testimony against war, than

by labouring by word and deed among the needy in the hospitals and

camps. We saw around us a rich field for usefulness in which there were

scarce any labourers, and toward whose work our hands had often started

involuntarily and unbidden. At last we consented to a trial, at least

till we could make inquiries concerning the Colonel's allegations, and

ask the counsel of our friends, reserving the privilege of returning to

our former position.

At first a great load seemed rolled away from us; we rejoiced in the

prospect of life again. But soon there prevailed a feeling of

condemnation, as though we had sold our Master. And that first day was

one of the bitterest I ever experienced. It was a time of stern conflict

of soul. The voice that seemed to say, "Follow me," as I sought

guidance the night before, kept pleading with me, convincing of sin,

till I knew of a truth my feet had strayed from His path. The

Scriptures, which the day before I could scarcely open without finding

words of strength and comfort, seemed closed against me, till after a

severe struggle alone in the wood to which I had retired, I consented to

give up and retrace my steps in faith. But it was too late. L.M.M.

wishing to make a fair, honest trial, we were brought here--P.D. being

already here unwell. We feel we are erring; but scarce anything is

required of us and we wait to hear from Friends.

Of these days of going down into sin, I wish to make little mention. I

would that my record of such degradation be brief. We wish to come to an

understanding with our friends and the Society before we move, but it

does not seem that we can repress the upheavings of Truth in our

hearts. We are bruised by sin.

It is with pleasure I record we have just waited upon the Colonel with

an explanation of our distress of mind, requesting him to proceed with

court-martial. We were kindly and tenderly received. "If you want a

trial I can give it to you," he answered. The brigade has just marched

out to join with the division for inspection. After that we are to have

attention to our case.

P.M. There is particular cause for congratulation in the consideration

that we took this step this morning, when now we receive a letter from

H.D. charging us to faithfulness.

When lately I have seen dear L.M.M. in the thoroughness and patience of

his trial to perform service in hospital, his uneasiness and the

intensity of his struggle as manifested by his silence and disposition

to avoid the company of his friends, and seen him fail and declare to

us, "I cannot stay here," I have received a new proof, and to me a

strong one, because it is from the experimental knowledge of an honest

man, that no Friend, who is really such, desiring to keep himself clear

of complicity with this system of war and to bear a perfect testimony

against it, can lawfully perform service in the hospitals of the Army in

lieu of bearing arms.

_10th_ mo., _3d._--Today dawned fair and our Camp is dry again. I was

asked to clean the gun I brought, and declining, was tied some two hours

upon the ground.

_6th._ AT WASHINGTON.--At first, after being informed of our declining

to serve in his hospital, Colonel Foster did not appear altered in his

kind regard for us. But his spleen soon became evident. At the time we

asked for a trial by court-martial, and it was his duty to place us

under arrest and proceed with the preferring of his charges against us.

For a while he seemed to hesitate and consult his inferior officers, and

among them his Chaplain. The result of the conference was our being

ordered into our companies, that, separated, and with the force of the

officers of a company bearing upon us, we might the more likely be

subdued. Yet the Colonel assured L.M.M., interceding in my behalf, when

the lieutenant commanding my company threatened force upon me, that he

should not allow any personal injury. When we marched next day I was

compelled to bear a gun and equipments. My associates were more

fortunate, for, being asked if they would carry their guns, declined and

saw no more trouble from them. The captain of the company in which P.D.

was placed told him he did not believe he was ugly about it, and that he

could only put him under arrest and prefer charges against him. He

accordingly was taken under guard, where he lay till we left for here.

The next morning the men were busy in burnishing their arms. When I

looked toward the one I had borne, yellow with rust, I trembled in the

weakness of the flesh at the trial I felt impending over me. Before the

Colonel was up I knocked at his tent, but was told he was asleep,

though, through the opening, I saw him lying gazing at me. Although I

felt I should gain no relief from him, I applied again soon after. He

admitted me and, lying on his bed, inquired with cold heartlessness what

I wanted. I stated to him, that I could never consent to serve, and,

being under the war-power, was resigned to suffer instead all the just

penalties of the law. I begged of him release from the attempts by

violence to compel my obedience and service, and a trial, though likely

to be made by those having no sympathy with me, yet probably in a

manner comformable to law.

He replied that he had shown us all the favour he should; that he had,

now, turned us over to the military power and was going to let that take

its course; that is, henceforth we were to be at the mercy of the

inferior officers, without appeal to law, justice, or mercy. He said he

had placed us in a pleasant position, against which we could have no

reasonable objection, and that we had failed to perform our agreement.

He wished to deny that our consent was only temporary and conditional.

He declared, furthermore, his belief, that a man who would not fight for

his country did not deserve to live. I was glad to withdraw from his

presence as soon as I could.

I went back to my tent and lay down for a season of retirement,

endeavouring to gain resignation to any event. I dreaded torture and

desired strength of flesh and spirit. My trial soon came. The lieutenant

called me out, and pointing to the gun that lay near by, asked if I was

going to clean it. I replied to him, that I could not comply with

military requisitions, and felt resigned to the consequences. "I do not

ask about your feelings; I want to know if you are going to clean that

gun?" "I cannot do it," was my answer. He went away, saying, "Very

well," and I crawled into the tent again. Two sergeants soon called for

me, and taking me a little aside, bid me lie down on my back, and

stretching my limbs apart tied cords to my wrists and ankles and these

to four stakes driven in the ground somewhat in the form of an X.

I was very quiet in my mind as I lay there on the ground [soaked] with

the rain of the previous day, exposed to the heat of the sun, and

suffering keenly from the cords binding my wrists and straining my

muscles. And, if I dared the presumption, I should say that I caught a

glimpse of heavenly pity. I wept, not so much from my own suffering as

from sorrow that such things should be in our own country, where Justice

and Freedom and Liberty of Conscience have been the annual boast of

Fourth-of-July orators so many years. It seemed that our forefathers in

the faith had wrought and suffered in vain, when the privileges they so

dearly bought were so soon set aside. And I was sad, that one

endeavouring to follow our dear Master should be so generally regarded

as a despicable and stubborn culprit.

After something like an hour had passed, the lieutenant came with his

orderly to ask me if I was ready to clean the gun. I replied to the

orderly asking the question, that it could but give me pain to be asked

or required to do anything I believed wrong. He repeated it to the

lieutenant just behind him, who advanced and addressed me. I was

favoured to improve the opportunity to say to him a few things I wished.

He said little; and, when I had finished, he withdrew with the others

who had gathered around. About the end of another hour his orderly came

and released me.

I arose and sat on the ground. I did not rise to go away. I had not

where to go, nothing to do. As I sat there my heart swelled with joy

from above. The consolation and sweet fruit of tribulation patiently

endured. But I also grieved, that the world was so far gone astray, so

cruel and blind. It seemed as if the gospel of Christ had never been

preached upon earth, and the beautiful example of his life had been

utterly lost sight of.

Some of the men came about me, advising me to yield, and among them one

of those who had tied me down, telling me what I had already suffered

was nothing to what I must yet suffer unless I yielded; that human flesh

could not endure what they would put upon me. I wondered if it could be

that they could force me to obedience by torture, and examined myself

closely to see if they had advanced as yet one step toward the

accomplishment of their purposes. Though weaker in body, I believed I

found myself, through divine strength, as firm in my resolution to

maintain my allegiance to my Master.

The relaxation of my nerves and muscles after having been so tensely

strained left me that afternoon so weak that I could hardly walk or

perform any mental exertion.

I had not yet eaten the mean and scanty breakfast I had prepared, when I

was ordered to pack up my things and report myself at the lieutenant's

tent. I was accustomed to such orders and complied, little moved.

The lieutenant received me politely with, "Good-morning, Mr. Pringle,"

and desiring me to be seated, proceeded with the writing with which he

was engaged. I sat down in some wonderment and sought to be quiet and

prepared for any event.

"You are ordered to report to Washington," said he; "I do not know what

it is for." I assured him that neither did I know. We were gathered

before the Major's tent for preparation for departure. The regimental

officers were there manifesting surprise and chagrin; for they could not

but show both as they looked upon us, whom the day before they were

threatening to crush into submission, and attempting also to execute

their threats that morning, standing out of their power and under orders

from one superior to their Major Commanding E.M. As the bird uncaged,

so were our hearts that morning. Short and uncertain at first were the

flights of Hope. As the slave many times before us, leaving his yoke

behind him, turned from the plantations of Virginia and set his face

toward the far North, so we from out a grasp as close and as abundant in

suffering and severity, and from without the line of bayonets that had

so many weeks surrounded us, turned our backs upon the camp of the 4th

Vermont and took our way over the turnpike that ran through the tented

fields of Culpeper.

At the War Office we were soon admitted to an audience with the Adjutant

General, Colonel Townsend, whom we found to be a very fine man, mild and

kind. He referred our cases to the Secretary of War, Stanton, by whom we

were ordered to report for service to Surgeon General Hammond. Here we

met Isaac Newton, Commissioner of Agriculture, waiting for our arrival,

and James Austin of Nantucket, expecting his son, Charles L. Austin, and

Edward W. Holway of Sandwich, Mass., conscripted Friends like ourselves,

and ordered here from the 22nd Massachusetts.

We understand it is through the influence of Isaac Newton that Friends

have been able to approach the heads of Government in our behalf and to

prevail with them to so great an extent. He explained to us the

circumstance in which we are placed. That the Secretary of War and

President sympathized with Friends in their present suffering, and would

grant them full release, but that they felt themselves bound by their

oaths that they would execute the laws, to carry out to its full extent

the Conscription Act. That there appeared but one door of relief

open,--that was to parole us and allow us to go home, but subject to

their call again ostensibly, though this they neither wished nor

proposed to do. That the fact of Friends in the Army and refusing

service had attracted public attention so that it was not expedient to

parole us at present. That, therefore, we were to be sent to one of the

hospitals for a short time, where it was hoped and expressly requested

that we would consent to remain quiet and acquiesce, if possible, in

whatever might be required of us. That our work there would be quite

free from objection, being for the direct relief of the sick; and that

there we would release none for active service in the field, as the

nurses were hired civilians.

These requirements being so much less objectionable than we had feared,

we felt relief, and consented to them. I.N. went with us himself to the

Surgeon General's office, where he procured peculiar favours for us:

that we should be sent to a hospital in the city, where he could see us

often; and that orders should be given that nothing should interfere

with our comfort, or our enjoyment of our consciences.

Thence we were sent to Medical Purveyor Abbot, who assigned us to the

best hospital in the city, the Douglas Hospital.

The next day after our coming here Isaac Newton and James Austin came to

add to our number E.W.H. and C.L.A., so now there are five of us instead

of three. We are pleasantly situated in a room by ourselves in the upper

or fourth story, and are enjoying our advantages of good quarters and

tolerable food as no one can except he has been deprived of them.

[_10th_ month] _8th._--Today we have a pass to go out to see the city.

_9th._--We all went, thinking to do the whole city in a day, but before

the time of our passes expired, we were glad to drag ourselves back to

the rest and quiet of D.H. During the day we called upon our friend

I.N. in the Patent Office. When he came to see us on the 7th, he stated

he had called upon the President that afternoon to request him to

release us and let us go home to our friends. The President promised to

consider it over-night. Accordingly yesterday morning, as I.N. told us,

he waited upon him again. He found there a woman in the greatest

distress. Her son, only a boy of fifteen years and four months, having

been enticed into the Army, had deserted and been sentenced to be shot

the next day. As the clerks were telling her, the President was in the

War Office and could not be seen, nor did they think he could attend to

her case that day. I.N. found her almost wild with grief. "Do not

despair, my good woman," said he, "I guess the President can be seen

after a bit." He soon presented her case to the President, who exclaimed

at once, "That must not be, I must look into that case, before they

shoot that boy"; and telegraphed at once to have the order suspended.

I.N. judged it was not a fit time to urge our case. We feel we can

afford to wait, that a life may be saved. But we long for release. We do

not feel easy to remain here.

_11th._--Today we attended meeting held in the house of a Friend, Asa

Arnold, living near here. There were but four persons beside ourselves.

E.W.H. and C.L.A. showed their copy of the charges about to have been

preferred against them in court-martial before they left their regiment,

to a lawyer who attended the meeting. He laughed at the Specification of

Mutiny, declaring such a charge could not have been lawfully sustained

against them.

The experiences of our new friends were similar to ours, except they

fell among officers who usually showed them favour and rejoiced with

them in their release.

_13th._--L.M.M. had quite an adventure yesterday. He being fireman with

another was in the furnace room among three or four others, when the

officer of the day, one of the surgeons, passed around on inspection.

"Stand up," he ordered them, wishing to be saluted. The others arose;

but by no means L. The order was repeated for his benefit, but he sat

with his cap on, telling the surgeon he had supposed he was excused from

such things as he was one of the Friends. Thereat the officer flew at

him, exclaiming, he would take the Quaker out of him. He snatched off

his cap and seizing him by the collar tried to raise him to his feet;

but finding his strength insufficient and that L. was not to be

frightened, he changed his purpose in his wrath and calling for the

corporal of the guard had him taken to the guard-house. This was about

eleven A.M. and he lay there till about six P.M., when the surgeon in

charge, arriving home and hearing of it, ordered the officer of the day

to go and take him out, telling him never to put another man into the

guard-house while he was in charge here without consulting him. The

manner of his release was very satisfactory to us, and we waited for

this rather than effect it by our own efforts. We are all getting uneasy

about remaining here, and if our release do not come soon, we feel we

must intercede with the authorities, even if the alternative be

imprisonment.

The privations I have endured since leaving home, the great tax upon my

nervous strength, and my mind as well, since I have had charge of our

extensive correspondence, are beginning to tell upon my health and I

long for rest.

_20th._ We begin to feel we shall have to decline service as

heretofore, unless our position is changed. I shall not say but we

submit too much in not declining at once, but it has seemed most prudent

at least to make suit with Government rather than provoke the hostility

of their subalterns. We were ordered here with little understanding of

the true state of things as they really exist here; and were advised by

Friends to come and make no objections, being assured it was but for a

very brief time and only a matter of form. It might not have been wrong;

but as we find we do too much fill the places of soldiers (L.M.M.'s

fellow fireman has just left for the field, and I am to take his place,

for instance), and are clearly doing military service, we are

continually oppressed by a sense of guilt, that makes our struggles

earnest.

_21st._--I.N. has not called yet; our situation is becoming almost

intolerable. I query if patience is justified under the circumstances.

My distress of mind may be enhanced by my feeble condition of health,

for today I am confined to my bed, almost too weak to get downstairs.

This is owing to exposure after being heated over the furnaces.

_26th._--Though a week has gone by, and my cold has left me, I find I am

no better, and that I am reduced very low in strength and flesh by the

sickness and pain I am experiencing. Yet I still persist in going below

once a day. The food I am able to get is not such as is proper.

The Record of a Quaker Conscience, Cyrus Pringle's Diary With an Introduction by Rufus M. Jones · 第 2 / 3 段