Memorials of Captain Hedley Vicars, ninety-seventh regiment

Preface

It may strike some who take up this volume, as strange that a memoir should be written of one who was so early cut off, in the flower of his age, that he had scarcely begun the fulfilment of his youthful promise ; whose name, till its last honourable mention by his Commander-in-Chief, was little known beyond his own family and an extended circle of friends and comrades.

Why, it may be asked, was he chosen out of the many not less brave or less beloved, who as freely offered up their lives for their country, and whose graves are, like his, far distant upon the shore of the stranger ? It is thought that a perusal of the following pages will sufficiently answer this question, and that, by God's blessing, these records of his brief career will not have been preserved in vain.

If any have cast the bread of life upon the restless

X PKEFACE.

waters of some wanderer's heart, and are still waiting and hoping to find it after many days, let them take comfort as they read how the parental prayer and blessing, which seemed to "be disregarded, were recalled in the moment of temptation and in a distant scene, were mused upon during lonely midnight watches, and cherished in a close companionship with danger and death.

There are those who, in the face of examples to the contrary, still maintain that entire devotion of the heart to God must withdraw a man from many of the active duties of life, and who would be prepared to concede that in making a good Christian you may spoil a good soldier. To them the subject of this memoir affords a fresh and ample refutation. While so many, whom God's grace has awakened in our Army and Navy, conceive it to be their duty, as they feel it to be their delight, to receive a fresh commission as ministers of the Gospel of Peace, that they may preach at once to others the Name so dear to themselves ; and while the weak in faith seek a sphere more sheltered from temptation, he determined upon the wiser and nobler course of standing firm to the colours under which he was already enrolled. When called to God's service, he found his mission-

PREFACE. XI

field in the camp and in the hospital. He lived, during months of sickness and pestilence, to commend the religion he professed to all around him — while he pursued the duties of his profession with distinguished ardour and constancy — maintaining as a Christian a high reputation for bravery among the bravest of his companions in arms, and winning on his first battle-field the blood-stained laurels so soon to be exchanged for the crown of glory that fadeth not away.

These pages may meet the eye of some of the many young Englishmen who have more of Christ's religion in their hearts than they have ever avowed in their lives, whose best feelings are stifled by the atmosphere of the society in which they find themselves, and which they might and ought to elevate and purify. Most grateful to God will the writer of these memorials be, if the courage of any such be exalted and confirmed, and their manly hearts inspired to emulate the noble example of a Christian Soldier.

CHAPTEE I.

" A noble boy, A brave, free-hearted, careless one, Full of uncheck'd, unbidden joy, Of dread of books, and love of fun ; And with a clear and ready smile Unshadow'd by a thought of guile."

Willis.

Hedley Shafto Johnstone Yicaes was born in the Mauritius, on the 7th of December 1826. His father, an officer in the Eoyal Engineers, was the representative of the family of Don Vicaro, a Spanish Cavalier who came to England in the suite of Katharine of Arragon, and settled in Ireland early in the sixteenth century, on the marriage of his eldest grandson with the heiress of the Lalor family. The family estate was Levalley, in Queen's County.

There was little to distinguish the early days of Hedley Vicars from those of other healthy high-spirited boys. Active and fearless, he was foremost among his playfellows wherever fun or frolic was to be found. Open-hearted and generous, quick to resent an injury, but ready to forgive, he was a universal favourite with them, whilst his sweetness of temper, and kind, unselfish nature, especially endeared him to his family at home. His faults were those of an energetic and wayward disposition, and those legends which are wont to be preserved in families, record occcasional instances of his odd and amusing perversity. When the children were gathered around their mother to repeat texts of Scripture in turn, Hedley, refusing to enter into the spirit of the little circle, would contribute nothing but " Kemember Lot's wife."

On one occasion, being reproved by his mother for light conduct at family worship, he walked off during the prayer, and ensconced himself in a little cave in the garden, barricading it with the determination of spending the night there, by way of punishing his mother for reproving him in the presence of the assembled family. But after a time, his better nature was touched by the entreaties and caresses of his little sisters, and he returned, softened and penitent, to ask and obtain forgiveness.

Once at the end of the holidays, when he was told to pack up his box for school, resolving to put off the evil day as long as possible, he paid no attention to his mother's repeated injunctions until they became positive commands, no longer to be disregarded. Then he walked away to his room, with an air of insulted dignity, and soon called out, " Mother, my box is packed." On opening the door of her room, she found the box placed there, loosely corded and packed, indeed, but with the housemaid's dust-pan and brushes, and a collection of old boots, shells, stones, and all sorts of rubbish, with which a few of Mrs Vicars'

Yet in spite of these and similar exbibitions of waywardness, be never caused his mother serious anxiety, in his boyhood, or gave lasting pain to that tender heart, ever knit to his own by the fondest affection.

She was for some years the only guardian of his childhood. Loss of health obliged her to return to England with her children, whilst their father was detained in the Mauritius by military duty. He came home to rejoice the hearts of his family in the year 1835, and died four years afterwards, in the prime of manhood, at Mullingar, West Meath, where he held a military appointment. He was honoured and beloved by the whole neighbourhood.

High-spirited, and fearless for himself, for his sisters Hedley was ever thoughtful, and treated them with invariable gentleness. The tenderness of his boyish years, for all who were under the power of his superior strength, was the germ of that constant consideration and goodness exercised in after-life towards those who were under his command, which drew forth from them an affection meet to illustrate the words, " Peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die."

When the boy was twelve years old, his father's dying hand was laid upon his head, with the. earnest prayer, " that he might be a good soldier of Jesus Christ, and so fight manfully under his banner as to glorify his holy name."

It might almost seem that faith had given to the departing Christian, as to the aged Jacob, a voice of prophecy. Knows he not now, and will he not yet more perfectly know, in a day for which a groaning creation looketh, how fully a faithful God granted to him this — his last prayer ?

From this time Hedley's love for his mother gradually deepened into that peculiar form of protecting tenderness which seems the prerogative of a widow's son, and there grew up with his growth an almost feminine gentleness and a sensitive regard for the feelings of others, which, combined with singular strength and steadfastness of character, rendered the friendship of his matured manhood so precious to those who had the privilege of enjoying it.

To study he had always shewn a marked and positive aversion, and devoted his time to anything rather than to the prescribed form of drudgery. At one school, then newly formed, where he was placed for a year or two, the contagion of his high spirits often carried off the master — himself a young man — from graver pursuits to join in the wild adventures and pranks of his gay and reckless pupil, somewhat to the scandal of their sober neighbours.

This determination not to study followed him to Woolwich, and prevented him from acquiring the distinction necessary to secure a commission in the Engineers or Artillery. All this was seriously regretted by him in after-life, not alone because he thus deprived himself of a more advantageous branch of the service, but also on account of time wasted, which had been given him so to use that he might finally render his account of it with joy.

On Christmas-day 1843, his mother received a letter, announcing that her son had obtained a commission in the line, written by the same hand which, on Good Friday 1855, informed her how faithfully unto death that commission had been fulfilled.

Early in the following spring he commenced his military career by joining the dep6t of the 97th Eegiment in the Isle of Wight. He was an ardent lover of his profession, and from first to last was devoted to its duties. In writing to his mother an account of his first review, with its fatigues of marching, skirmishing, and firing, he adds, with boyish pride, " But my zeal for the service kept me up."

In the autumn of 1844, he returned home to take leave of his family at Langford Grove, in Essex, before sailing for Corfu. His eldest sister well remembers his joyous bearing as he first exhibited himself to them in the Queen's uniform, and her own admiration of the bright, intelligent countenance, broad shoulders, and well-knit, athletic figure of her young soldier-brother. A few weeks afterwards he sailed for Corfu — now fairly launched in the world and in a profession beset with temptations.

He still retained the frank demeanour and kind and generous disposition which had distinguished him as a boy, with a keen relish for adventure, and a quick perception Of the beautiful in all around him, as his descriptions of scenery sufficiently shew. Gifts are these, lovely in themselves, but dangerous, often fatal, to their possessor, as the wrecks upon many a shoal of life too truly testify.

He had a pleasant and prosperous voyage out ; with his usual activity lending a helping hand to the sailors in the work of the ship, and winning their hearts by his genial manners. At Corfu he entered with spirit into all the amusements which offered themselves to him. His letters to his family were now less frequent than ever before or afterwards, and at this period of his life his reckless disposition often led him into scenes of which his conscience disapproved, and to excesses which, though never matured into habits, and, by the grace of God, early and for ever abandoned, were afterwards the subject of bitter and humiliating remembrance. In reference to this he wrote in 1854, " You will be spared poignant remorse in after years by remembering your Creator in the days of your youth. I speak from heartfelt experience. I would give worlds, if I had them, to undo what I have done."

A single letter will be sufficient to shew that his correspondence was at this time restricted to the details of his outward life : —

TO HIS MOTHEE.

" Cephalonia, 1845.

" . . . . Last week I had a delightful trip to Zante, where I was ordered to sit on a court-martial, and remained three days. I never enjoyed a place more. It is a "beautiful island, covered with verdure. A wing of the reserved battalion of the 97th is quartered there — two companies in the town, and one in the castle, which is about a mile above it. Clambering up was tedious work, as the hill in some parts is nearly perpendicular. I was, however, well repaid for my trouble on arriving at the summit, where the sight which presented itself to my eyes was most magnificent. On one side of the ramparts you behold the town far below, and the harbour crowded with merchant-vessels of every nation ; while in the distance, through the misty haze, appears the dark outline of the Morean hills. Looking in the opposite direction, you see an immense plain thickly planted with vineyards, studded with olive groves and pretty villas, just visible in the distance. Still further, mountains capped with snow form a boundary to the valley."

Soon afterwards he was quartered in the castle at Zante, to his great delight, and his letters convey the same vivid impressions of the beauty of the scenes which surrounded him :—

" Summer is changing the aspect of all around. The plains beneath are already clothed in green ; the vines, olives, pomegranates, and hawthorn, with roses, geraniums, and other wild but sweetly-scented flowers, shed their fragrance through the air, and everything looks charming. Zante is a perfect garden of roses. I generally have two or three bouquets in my room. One could hardly have more pleasant quarters."

CHAPTER II,

"Thou hast made tis for Thyself, and our heart is restless till it resteth in Thee."

St Augustine.

The 97th was ordered to Jamaica in 1848. From Maroon Town lie thus writes to his mother : —

" I see it all now. It is I that have caused your illness, my darling mother. Ever since the receipt of your last letter, I have been in a dreadful state of mind. I. feel that I deserve God's severest punishment for my undutiful conduct towards the fondest of mothers, but the excruciating thought had never before occurred to me, that He might think fit to remove her from me. Oh, what agony I have endured ! what sleepless nights I have passed, since the perusal of that letter ! The review of my past life, especially the retrospect of the last two years, has at last quite startled me, and at the same time disgusted me. You will now see the surest sign of repentance in my future conduct ; and believe me, that never, as far as in me lies, shall another moment's anxiety be caused you by your dutiful and now repentant son."

The remorse which he thus affectingly expresses, was caused by his having incurred debt, to no great amount, but such as he knew would become a burden to a widowed mother. During his residence in one of the Mediterranean isles, he had become acquainted with a family who shewed him great hospitality, and in maintaining social intercourse with them, and sharing their pleasures, he had involved himself beyond his means. It was the first and the last time that his unselfish nature thus transgressed.

In the depth of his penitence for his errors towards an earthly parent, — called forth by the patient bearing of her forgiving love, — do we not see the foreshadowing of that prostration of soul with which he humbled himself, when once the kindness and long-suffering of his God and Saviour were manifested to him in the fulness of redeeming love? And thus it was first through the raising of his moral nature, by means of the holiest affections of man's heart, that he was eventually, after many a fall and rising again, to be drawn up into the higher life of fellowship with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.

The depth and tenderness of his feelings at this time are well spoken again in the following letter to his mother : —

u What a difference there is between the crowded Sea of the Mediterranean and the broad and dreary expanse of the Atlantic! On the former sea we passed hundreds of vessels, but from the day we left Gibraltar to enter into the Western Ocean, to the time we sailed np the Carribean Sea, not more than two vessels hove in sight, and they were nearly hull down with their top-spars alone visible. On, on we went through the monster ocean of the western hemisphere, with the glorious sky above, and the rolling restless waves beneath. A huge whale kept us company for one day, — no one on board had ever seen one like it. Porpoises and dolphins enliven us also by their presence every day, affording great delight, by their clumsy gambols, to the seamen and soldiers.

" Our watches were kept day and night. I had my vigil to keep for four hours every night, and often have I, when on the middle or morning watch, clambered aloft to the tops, and sat down and watched, on many a wild and stormy night, the flying scud, as it rolled restlessly across the face of the moon, entirely wrapped up in thoughts of you and home, of past times and past events. Then, I have imagined myself coming home, the surprise it would give you, and how happy we should be. In the midst of such delicious reveries, the retrospect of the last few months has struck me as it were with a blight. I have said to myself, ' Oh, that I had the last two years allotted to me to live over again ! ' Alas, regrets are now unavailing; let my future aim be to atone for the lapse of time which can never be recalled.

" We anchored on the morning of the 5th in Montego Bay ; and landed the same evening. By the time we had formed on the beach it was quite dark ; that most pleasing part of the day, twilight, being very short in these latitudes. As soon as the guides were ready, our company marched off to Falmouth, twenty miles distant, whilst I gave the word of command to No. 5 company, i Bight, form, four deep, march, quick march,' and we began our night march to Maroon Town. We were accompanied by crowds of blacks, many of whom carried torches of resinous wood ; and the light glaring on the men's bayonets and appointments, through the pitch dark night, produced a very good effect. I wish the moon had given us her friendly light, for then I should have been able to give you some account of the country ; as it was, I could only distinguish that we were marching on a road, with a deep ravine on each side, through a richly-wooded country. The chirping made by insects was both loud and incessant, and the fireflies flitting in the bushes, and across our path by myriads, now and then shewed us by their light a yawning abyss, as we marched, skirting its edge. The air was hot and sultry ; yet, in spite of this, and the badness of the roads, the first six miles were speedily got over ; but, as we advanced higher up, the country became more wild, and the roads extremely dangerous, so that, commanding the company for the time being, I had to keep the men well in hand, files locked up. Even in spite of this precaution, one very fine young fellow was nearly killed by a fall over a precipice, but was providentially saved by some bushes. It was half-an-hour before we got him out. We had to make repeated halts, as the men began to shew symptoms of fatigue ; and when we arrived at the half-way house (eleven miles over), we halted to serve out to each man some bread and a ration of spirits. After this slight refreshment, the men fell in, the advance sounded, and onward we trudged.

" It now became all up-hill work, and very wearisome : yet I kept my station at the head of the column. About a mile from the half-way house I went ahead of the column, and soon met the advanced guard of the 38th. They cheered, and told us, as we passed, that their comrades were close at hand. In another ten minutes we encountered them. They cheered us loudly, and shook hands with a number of our men, wishing us all good luck, and good health at Maroon Town.

u This place is merely a cantonment, consisting of the Barracks, distant from our quarters about 200 yards, and numerous pretty thatched cottages, with B neat little gardens attached. It is situated in a dell, about 2500 feet above the level of the sea, surrounded on every side by bills, which are thickly covered by stately trees. The foliage is very luxuriant, and the air is richly loaded with the aroma of numerous plants. Altogether the scene is delightful to one who can enjoy the country, and as if nothing should be wanted to heighten the beauty of the scene, through the opening between two hills is visible the boundless expanse of the ocean.

u Often do I wander into the forest to enjoy the cool refreshing shade of the trees, and undisturbed to think of home, — a sweeter contemplation to me now than all the beauties of nature.

" I have two very nice rooms, and a pretty garden attached, with arbours of trellis-work. I have built a nice place, myself, for poultry, and bought eight hens and two cocks, by which I intend soon to make money ! They have already laid thirty-two eggs, which sell here at the rate of three-halfpence each. One of my hens is hatching twelve eggs, and long before this letter reaches you, I hope to have a flourishing brood. There is a fine large tank close by our quarters, where I bathe twice every day, and enjoy the luxurious size of my bath."

Five months later, he thus writes : —

" My Darling Mother, — I do love you, and that fondly, although I have often (and may God Almighty forgive me !) rebelled against your wishes.

" Mother, I ask your forgiveness for what has passed. You know not what real anguish some of your letters have caused me ; and although I have tried to drown the voice of conscience, after reading them, a still small voice has always been whispering in my ear, and kept me from committing many a

In writing, at the same time, to his sister, he alludes to forebodings of an early death occasionally coming across him, and wishes he were " prepared :" —

" I am no coward, but the thought of death is solemn, and the idea of dying far away from home, with no fond mother or sister to give me comfort in my last moments, is sad enough. Yet I hope the effect of these reflections is wholesome, and will make me consider seriously whether I am fit to die."

He thus writes from Newcastle, on the 5th of June 1849:—

" My Dearest Mothek, — I have just received your truly fond and affectionate letter. I assure you it made me shed tears. I feel that my conduct has been undutiful in not having written to you oftener.

But do not imagine for a moment that my neglect in so doing ever arose from forgetfulness. Far worse were I than a brute, could I ever cease to remember the fondest and most devoted of mothers. My dislike to writing in general shall not prevent me from writing to you or Mary by every mail for the future, without fail ; so I trust you will not have cause again to upbraid me for having allowed such long intervals of time to elapse between each of my letters to you. That part of your letter, in which you mention your fainting on the terrace, made my blood curdle in my veins, and alarmed me dreadfully. That night I knelt by my bedside, and prayed most fervently that the Lord Almighty would spare your life, for the sake of your orphan children.

" A son's affection for his mother can only really be known, when he feels that her life is in danger. I know not what I should do, or what would become of me, were you, my precious darling mother, to be taken from me. I should go on through life with a void, that I know could never be filled up. My chief pleasure during the past year has been in looking forward to our meeting once again in dear old England ; and oh, what delight this anticipation afforded me ! But, mother, you must and will get well again. I shall yet, at some not far distant day, have the joy of seeing you, and kissing your fondly-remembered face. You shall be caused no more pain or anxiety by me. Oh, that my past actions could be obliterated from my recollection, and that my conscience could acquit me of having done anything to cause you grief and uneasiness ! . . . In my last letter, I mentioned a wish to get a transfer to a regiment in India ; but, of course, now that the war is over, it would be foolish to do so. Besides, I have heard lately that there is every probability of great promotion in the 97th ; so I think I will stand by the Sky-blue. My mind is now relieved from its chief pressure by the kindness of dearest Clara and her generous husband.

" I must now tell you of the death of a brother officer, Lieutenant Bindon. He died on the 13th of May at about five o'clock in the morning. Poor fellow ! his was a short but painful illness. I remember, when I went into his room the sun was shining brightly through the windows, the birds were singing cheerily, and the merry laugh of the light-hearted soldiers (plainly audible from their barracks) grated harshly on my ear. He was dead ! Looking at his meek and placid face, calm and unruffled, I could hardly believe that I was not gazing on the living man. But, alas ! his soul had fled. He was a robust and stalwart-looking man, about twenty-four years of age. With God's help, I trust I have learnt a lesson and a warning from his sudden death. He was buried the same evening in the small graveyard at the foot of the hill as you enter the cantonment. I, as senior subaltern, had command of the firing party. When we arrived, the twilight was fast verging into darkness, and the funeral service was read by the light of a candle. This is soon over, and then all retire from the grave except myself and armed party of forty men. We then give three volleys — the rolling echoes are still reverberating when the earth is thrown in — and all is over. Such has been the melancholy end of my poor friend and mess-mate. I was deeply affected, and could not restrain my tears all the time. I felt my voice choked when I gave the command, ' Fire three volleys in the air.'

" I am now in the quarters he once occupied. It is a pretty cottage, with two rooms, and a verandah in front. When I first went into it, the passion-flower, jessamin, and honeysuckle completely covered the windows ; but it made the room so dark, and, combined with the associations of poor Bindon's death, rendered the cottage so gloomy, that I pulled it all down. I have a pretty little flower-garden, and a summer-house formed of a large overhanging bamboo. Would that I could transport myself and cottage to Essex ! The weather has been lovely for the last month. I enjoy the cool fresh air in the morning very much. I am never in bed after half-past five in the morning, which is the best time to inhale the

bracing mountain-breeze I have got

command of a very nice company. The men are mostly well-behaved. My endeavour has always been to be kind as well as strict ; the consequence is, (although I am my own trumpeter) the men, I believe, would do anything for me. . . . Now, dearest mother, good-bye. Take care of your health, at least (if not for your own sake) for the sake of your ever fond and affectionate son, " Hedley."

About this time, in a letter to one of his sisters, he u You did not mean to give me pain, dearest Mary, but in the same letter in which you tell me of my mother's illness, why did you remind me of those strange huffs in which I used to indulge, which may well make a son ashamed as he remembers them?',

This allusion refers to such domestic traditions of his childish perversity, as have already been recorded. It touchingly reminds those who knew him best of the sensitive tenderness of his heart and conscience.

" Give my tender love," he adds, " to my darling mother, and tell her I received a lock of her hair and another of yours, and am going to get a small locket for each of them, and shall wear them round my neck as a talisman. Darling Mary, I think more of those two locks of hair than of anything else in my posses-

In July 1849, we find him entrusted with the management of a sort of regimental carnival — an entertainment which lasted two days, having been given "by the 97th to the neighbouring families who had shewn them hospitality and attention. At the close, he expresses a sense of dissatisfaction, without any definite reason for it, but " is glad it is over."