[425]James Camp Turner, of Alabama, thus fell at this same battle of First Manassas:
‘On the night of the arrival of the regiment on the battle-field, lights being forbidden, because of the close vicinity of the enemy, he read aloud, by the light of the moon, two chapters in the New Testament to the officers of his company. He then lay down to rest for the last time in life, observing as he was about to do so, “I think, from the signals, there will be hot work to-morrow.” The heroism of the Fourth Alabama, illustrated in the fierce struggle on that “morrow,” has been heralded to the world, and is now historic. In the thick of the fight, at about 11 o'clock, Lieutenant James Camp Turner fell, pierced through the breast. “Tell my sister,” said he, “I die happy on the battle-field, in defence of my country;” and with these words on his lips—his dying message to his idolized, only sister—his pure spirit ascended to God.’
James Chalmers, of Halifax county, who fell on the outpost and died several days after at Fairfax Court House, is thus spoken of by an intimate friend:
He possessed all the higher attributes of a Christian warrior, with hand on hilt and eye on heaven, fighting at once under the banner of his country and the Cross of his Saviour.
He had been for many years a most consistent member of the Episcopal Church, and he carried his piety with him into every relation of life. At home he was a working Christian; around the fireside, in the Sunday-school, or in the hut of the poor, he ever did his duty as a faithful worker in God's cause. In camp his example and precept were most potent for good, and none of those who enjoyed the privilege of nightly kneeling beside him in prayer will soon forget the earnest appeals that arose from his tent to the throne of grace. Upon his death-bed he drew his captain to him, and in whispered accents sent his love to the members of his company, and an earnest appeal to them to put their trust in that Saviour who enabled him joyfully to welcome death as a passport to a land of bliss. . . . . Would that we had some consolation to offer the stricken hearts he left behind him! Except in the belief that God disposes all things for the best, there is no balm for the hearts that bleed for the loss of such a husband, such a father, such a brother, such a son. It is, however, an inexpressible comfort to know that he has “fought his last battle,” and has gone to that long home “where the wicked ”
