Oct. 12—Get to Mt. Jackson. Find Dr. Triplett’s family in great sorrow. Rev. Henry Hardin, of N. C. had married a daughter of Dr. T. and had one child, a son, of one year’s age. I had seen the Rev. Mr. Hardin in the Valley a few week’s before. I called. Of the woman who opened the door I inquired the whereabouts of Rev. Hardin. She said. “He left here three weeks ago, as your army retreated. We have not heard from him since. He is perhaps in North Carolina. The Federals arrested my aged husband and took him up the Valley that day. They carried him through here yesterday in an ambulance sick. I walked beside him a short distance and handed him some clean clothing. I cannot tell where or how he may be today. Last night my daughter’s child died.” As she said that she pushed open the door, and I saw a noble looking woman kneeling by the sofa on which lay a beautiful dead child. I knelt down and said, “Let us pray!” The Lord did help us to cast our burden on Him. We prayed for the sick grandfather, for the young father and for the two mothers. I saw no one in the house except the two women and the dead child. When armies were passing through a town every family had to “sorrow alone.” As I rose up the young mother remained kneeling, but turning gave me her hand saying: “To whom am I indebted for this great kindness?” I never gave my name with more grateful pleasure. After the war, Rev. Mr. H. was Agent for the American Bible Society and attended sessions of our Methodist Annual Conference. He always said: “Brother Betts, wife sends love to you.”
After some years I saw a notice of his death. I felt personally bereaved. Wishing to know the particulars of his death and to offer my sympathies to his family, I wrote to Mrs. H. at J. asking her to tell me about his death and send me his picture. She sent his picture and added that he said he would be on the banks of the River waiting and watching for her. Glory to God for such a hope!