Chapter D: L. Brainard

Another and a very handsome letter sent to General Lockwood by an officer of the army, who had long known the son, was as follows:

“San Antonio, Fla., _July 25, 1884_.

“My dear General: The newspapers tardily convey to me the news of
your son’s heroic death. I can not express to you how much both my
wife and myself were affected by this intelligence. I knew your
son from his entry into the Twenty-third Infantry in 1873 until I
was promoted to the Twenty-second in 1879, and formed so high an
estimate of his sterling soldierly character that it is
inexpressibly sad to think of his career being cut short at so
early an age. But, though early, he has nevertheless left his mark
on the scientific record of the country—a record which can never
perish while the frozen North continues to hold the secrets he has
more nearly penetrated than any other explorer of those regions.
This must be, my dear general, some consolation to you, though I
well know that it can not wholly atone for the loss of your noble
son. But, as time passes, this reflection may soften your paternal
grief.

“A life-work need not extend to the allotted threescore years and
ten. In the providence of God it often compasses a much smaller
period of time; when it is accomplished, God calls the worker
home.

“Who shall measure the work your son accomplished in the examples
he gave of fidelity to duty, of heroic fortitude? How many
fainting souls in the future, reading of his devotion, will be
strengthened to go forward in the paths marked out for them! That
your grief may be in time assuaged by these reflections is the
prayer devoutly offered by your sincere friend.”

Many private letters of condolence and sympathy were written to the parents of the deceased, by personal friends and others, some of which serve to illustrate the character of the departed. One of these friends wrote as follows:

“The tender regard and sincere love I had for James prompts me to write to you and express my heart-felt sorrow in losing him. We were dear friends for years, and a more upright and honorable man never lived, and our regiment has lost a member who can never be replaced, and the memory of him who died far away from us can never be forgotten.”

In another letter a friend wrote as follows:

“Dr. B——, U. S. A., one of James’s most intimate and best friends, desires me to say that, of all the men he knew, James was to him far dearer than any other. As for myself, I shall always hold James dear to my heart, and hope some day, when all things pass away, to meet him in that happy land where our loved ones are gone.”

In another letter occurs the following:

“Lockwood was among the best young officers of the regiment. Very attentive to duty, and correct in habits, his promise of usefulness was unusually great. I hope that the knowledge of duty well performed, and under the most trying circumstances, may in some degree ameliorate your great grief.”

Another friend writes:

“I but echo the feelings of all in the Twenty-third Infantry who knew your son, in saying that your great loss is partly theirs. His kindly and generous impulses, his sterling integrity, and his thoroughness as an officer and a gentleman, secured and retained for him the substantial good-will and friendship of all. And while we may grieve at the mournful end of his career, yet this feeling is somewhat neutralized in the melancholy satisfaction of knowing that he died on the field of honor.”

In another letter from one who had been in the army and on the staff of General Lockwood at Accomac, Va., occurs the following most admirable and appropriate passage: “I do believe, dear general, that all is well with your son. Standing where no human footstep had ever trod before, seeing what no eye had ever before beheld, alone amid the awful silence of that frozen deep—alone with God—there must have been communings with the Holy One of more import to James than all else besides. And at the last day you will again see your son in glory, wearing the crown of those made perfect through suffering.”

Besides the many letters written by personal friends, there were others from perfect strangers, who had either served under General Lockwood in the army, or been especially interested in the fate of the youthful hero.

Among the strangers who wrote letters of condolence was the Rev. William E. Griffis, D. D., of Schenectady, N. Y., who had preached a sermon on the conquests of peace, and in which he made the following allusion to Lieutenant Lockwood: “The laurels that repose on the memory of Lieutenant Lockwood are better than battle-honors or wreaths after bloody victories.” It was his opinion that the Arctic secret would yet be won; and that Lockwood and his brother heroes were doing the will of God as explorers in the far North.

On the 20th of July, 1884, the Rev. Dr. John S. Lindsay, of St. John’s Church, in Georgetown, delivered a sermon in which he alluded to the return of the Greely Expedition, and especially to Lieutenant Lockwood, who had been one of his parishioners. He said: “Just a few days ago we were plunged into sorrow by the news that among the living of the latest Arctic expedition who had been rescued was _not_ our young townsman, the son of one of the most honored members of this congregation; the dispatch that brought the glad intelligence that six were saved was soon followed by the sad announcement that he, vigorous as he was, had sunk under the rigors of the climate, worn out by work and want. Has he left no lesson for you and me, for all his fellow-men? Think of his ceaseless endeavor, of the courage and devotion with which he bore the brunt of the exploration, and wore away his own strength in seeking food for his comrades and himself! See him, with a single companion, penetrating nearer to the north pole than any other man had ever gone, however daring! When he had done his whole duty, more than had ever been done before, he lies down to rest—to die.

“Most fittingly did his brother explorers give his name to this spot, the farthest land north trod by human foot. Lockwood Island shall stand, as long as the earth endures, amid the awful wastes and silence of these mysterious regions, as the monument of this brave young soldier. A child of the Church, the subject of ceaseless prayer—of yours, of mine, of his family—we trust that his spirit, chastened and exalted by the hardships he endured, winged its flight from the inhospitable land that refused sustenance to his body, and now rests and waits in the paradise of God. We mingle our tears with his father’s and his mother’s, and with those of all who loved him; but out of the deep we rejoice in the record he has left behind of devotion to duty even unto death. Surely no life is short in which so much is done, or in vain that gives such instruction and such inspiration to other lives. In conclusion, let us not cast away our faith in God, because of the mysteries and trials and sufferings of life.”

Footnotes

[1]A suburb of Annapolis.

THE END.

Transcriber’s Notes

--Retained the copyright notice from the printed edition (although
this book is in the public domain.)

--Silently corrected a few palpable typos.

--In the text versions only, delimited italicized text in
_underscores_.

--In the table of distances travelled, abbreviated column headings
to save space, and added a key to the abbreviations.

--Re-ordered the table of illustrations to match the order of
illustrations in the text.