BISHOP BROWN--DEATH OF MY DAUGHTER.
I removed with my family to the village of Canandaigua, where I commenced
teaching a school for colored children, assisted by my daughter. The
school was sustained partly by the liberality of the citizens of the
village, and partly by donations from abroad. It was continued two years,
and the children made rapid progress while they were under our tuition.
Soon after I left Rochester, I visited New York city, and while there, I
joined "The African Methodist Episcopal Conference." Bishop Brown, of
Philadelphia, presided over the deliberations of that body, and appeared
to be a man of deep piety, as well as apt in business, and was a native of
one of the Carolinas. I found a pleasing acquaintance also, with Bishop
Walters of Baltimore, Md. He was small in stature; but a powerful speaker,
and discharged every duty with "an eye single to the glory of God." He has
now gone to give an account of his stewardship, and I pray that "his
mantle may fall" upon one as capable of leading our people as he. The
conference consisted of some sixty or seventy ministers of the gospel,
with these two Bishops at their head. The conference continued its session
ten days. When it was closed, Bishop Brown, with several others, started
on a visit to the West. They called at Rochester, and then passed over to
Canada, where a conference was to be holden. We arrived, after a pleasant
journey, at Hamilton, where the English government have a regiment of
black soldiers stationed. It was common, in passing through the streets of
Hamilton, to meet every few rods, a colored man in uniform, with a sword
at his side, marching about in all the military pomp allowed only to white
men in this _free republic_.
All being in readiness, Bishop Brown opened the conference under the
authority of Her Britannic Majesty, with great solemnity, which seemed
to be felt by the whole assembly. This meeting appeared to me far
more interesting than the one we had attended in New York city. The
colored people were much more numerous in Hamilton, and in far better
circumstances than in New York. It is a hard case to be poor in any large
city, but to be both poor and black, as was the condition of the majority
of our friends in New York, was indeed a terrible calamity. Every class,
no matter how worthless they might be, would be allowed to rent a house in
preference to a colored man. The consequence was, our people were crowded
back into the most unhealthy alleys, in old dilapidated tenements unfit
for human beings to dwell in, and such as could not be disposed of to any
other class of people. I am happy to say, however, that a favorable change
has taken place in New York, since the time of which I am speaking.
Capitalists have noted the good reputation of the colored people as
tenants, and have of late erected good dwellings for their accommodation.
In Hamilton there was none of that wretchedness and squalid poverty, nor
any of that drunken rowdyism so common in Eastern cities, perceivable
among the colored people.
Our conference was largely attended by all classes, both black and white,
--many of the latter invited the Bishop with his associates to their
dwellings to dine, indeed we seldom took a meal at our lodgings, so
constantly were we solicited by friends to accompany them home.
We also found many fugitive slaves in that city, many of whom were
intelligent mechanics. Some of them took us about the place, showing us
the different buildings they were engaged in erecting; quite a number
were employed in building a church which appeared to be done in a
workman-like manner.
In the meantime our meeting was progressing in a very interesting
manner, and when the closing services were commenced, the house was filled
to overflowing; still many could not be accommodated. The preaching was
solemn and impressive, and it really seemed to me that the glory of God
filled the house in which we worshipped; saints rejoiced and shouted
"glory to God, in the highest," while sinners trembled and cried out,
"what must we do to be saved from the wrath to come." There were several
hopeful conversions during the session of conference; and after its close
we spent one day in making social calls, and viewing the city and its
surroundings.
Burlington Bay makes an excellent harbor for shipping, while Burlington
Heights loom up on the north in all their wild and terrific grandeur. Near
the bay resides Mr. McNab, so notorious in the history of the Canadian
revolution. We went in a large company to look at his beautiful grounds
and residence, over which we were politely conducted by his amiable lady.
It was indeed a lordly mansion, with its surroundings laid out in the
English style of princely magnificence.
On our return to the city at evening, we were invited to attend a grand
soiree, got up in honor of the Bishop's first visit to that place. Several
families of colored people combined to provide the splendid entertainment,
while one lady presided at the board. She was very beautiful and very
dark; but a complete model of grace and elegance, conversing with perfect
ease and intelligence with all, both black and white ministers, who
surrounded the festive board, as well as our Irish friends, not a few of
whom were present. One honest son of the Emerald Isle entered, and not
understanding the matter, inquired of his brother "Pat," in rather a loud
whisper, "What's all them nagurs setting to that table for?" He, however,
soon satisfied himself, and all passed off quietly and in excellent order.
At a late hour the company, after a benediction, withdrew and dispersed.
We left Hamilton the following morning, feeling grateful and pleased with
our meeting and visit.
It was a beautiful morning; the lake was still, no sound was heard but the
rushing waves, as our boat moved on through its placid waters, toward our
destination, then called Fort George, now Niagara, where we took stage for
the Falls.
At that place of resort, we stopped to view the stupendous work of
Almighty God, and listen to the ceaseless thundering of the cataract. How
tame appear the works of art, and how insignificant the bearing of proud,
puny man, compared with the awful grandeur of that natural curiosity. Yet
there, the rich from all parts of the world, do congregate! There you will
find the idle, swaggering slaveholder, blustering about in lordly style;
boasting of his wealth; betting and gambling; ready to fight, if his
slightest wish is not granted, and lavishing his cash on all who have the
least claim upon him. Ah, well can he afford to be liberal,--well can he
afford to spend thousands yearly at our Northern watering places; he has
plenty of human chattels at home, toiling year after year for his benefit.
The little hoe-cake he gives them, takes but a mill of the wealth with
which they fill his purse; and should his extravagance lighten it
somewhat, he has only to order his brutal overseer to sell--soul and body
--some poor creature; perchance a husband, or a wife, or a child, and
forward to him the proceeds of the sale. While the wretched slave marches
South with a gang, under the lash, he lavishes his funds in extravagant
living,--funds gathered from the tears and blood of a helpless human
being. Have you, dear reader, ever watched the slaveholder at such places
as I have, gliding through the shady groves, or riding in his splendid
carriage, dressed in the richest attire, and with no wish ungratified that
gold can purchase; and have you ever been guilty of envying him, or of
wishing yourself in his condition? If so, think of the curse which rests
on him who grinds the face of the poor. Think of his doom in the day of
final retribution, when he shall receive at the bar of a righteous Judge,
"according to the deeds done in the body," and not according to his wealth
and power. Think you, that the prayers, cries, and pleadings of the
down-trodden slave that for years have been ascending to the throne of a
just God, will never be avenged? Yea, verily, the day of reckoning hastens
on apace, and though, "He bear long with them; He will surely avenge them
of their adversaries; and that speedily!"
As we pursued our journey to Buffalo, we passed Grand Island, from whence
Mordecai Emanuel Noah, some years ago issued a proclamation, calling on
the Jews to come and build on that island the "City of Refuge," but which
I believe was not responded to, as I saw it remained in its native
wildness. He had also a monument erected there at the time, which might be
seen from the highway and canal, consisting of a white marble slab, six
feet in height, with a suitable inscription upon it, to direct the poor
Jew to the City of Refuge.
It was quite conspicuous, but not so magnificent as Gen. Brock's at
Queenston Heights.
Arrived at Buffalo, we held several meetings which were very interesting.
The colored people were then numerous in that city, and owned one of the
largest churches in Western New York. We found a large and prosperous
society under the superintendence of Elder Weir, who was a good and
talented man, setting a godly example for his flock to imitate. At Buffalo
I parted with my pleasant and instructive traveling companion, Bishop
Brown, never to meet again on the shores of time. Soon after that pleasant
journey he died, and passed from his labor to reward.
Buffalo was then, as now a great place for business. Vessels from all
parts of the country crowded the docks, and I then thought that it must in
time become one of the largest cities in the Union. After a pleasant visit
with our people there, I returned to my home in Canandaigua, where I now
began to feel quite settled.
I had been requested to act as agent for the "Anti-Slavery Standard," with
which I complied, and leaving my daughter to teach the school, I spent the
most of my time in traveling through the country to advance the interests
of that paper.
When I returned from Buffalo, she was complaining of poor health, nor was
it long before we saw that she was rapidly declining.
This beloved daughter, I had spared no pains nor money to educate and
qualify for teaching. I had encountered all the trials and difficulties
that every colored man meets, in his exertions to educate his family. I
had experienced enough to make me fear that I should not always be able to
get my children, into good schools, and therefore determined at whatever
cost, to educate this child thoroughly, that she might be able, not only
to provide for her own wants, but to teach her younger brothers and
sisters, should they be deprived of the advantages of a good school.
Well had she rewarded my labor; well had she realized all my fondest hopes
and expectations,--but alas! for human foresight and worldly wisdom! The
accomplishments and qualifications of a teacher were attained; and proudly
we looked for the achievement of our long-contemplated design. How hard to
believe that the fell destroyer was upon her track! Her education had
qualified her for teaching the sciences; but now I saw, that her faith in
the religion of the blessed Christ, was assisting her to teach her own
heart a lesson of patience, and quiet submission to the will of Him who
holds the issues of life,--and Oh, how difficult for us to learn the
solemn lesson, that her wasting form, her gradual sinking away, was
hourly setting before us.
Slowly her strength failed; she, however, saw our sorrowful anxiety, and
would try to relieve it with a cheerful appearance. One day perhaps she
would be able to walk about, which would revive our wavering hope; the
next she was prostrate and suffering; then hope died and we were sad! All
the spring time she languished; the summer came, the roses bloomed, and
the grain began to ripen, but she was wasting away. The orchard yielded
its golden harvest; the birds sang merrily on the trees, but a dark shadow
had fallen on our hearthstone, and a gloom, like the pall of death, rested
on our household. Her place at table was already vacant; no longer she
called the little ones about her to hear them repeat their tasks,--all of
which admonished us, that soon the bed where we could now see her, would
be vacated; and we should no longer witness her patient smile, and know
that she was still with us. The pastor of the Baptist church often called
to pray with, and for, the quiet sufferer, which she appreciated very
highly, for she was a Christian in every sense of the word.
On the thirtieth day of August, at about eleven o'clock, A.M., without a
struggle or a groan, her spirit returned to God who gave it. "Sweetly as
babes sleep," she sank into the embrace of death. Happily, triumphantly,
had she seen the grim messenger approach; but she knew whom she had
believed, and that He was able to keep that which she had committed to
Him, unto the resurrection of the just.
She had previously made a confession of her faith in Christ, and had been
buried with Him in baptism. A few days after her demise, a long, sad train
wound its way to the village church yard, where we deposited the remains
of our beloved,--Patience Jane Steward, in the eighteenth year of her age;
and then returned to our desolate house, to realize that she had left a
world of pain and sorrow, where the fairest rose conceals a thorn, the
sweetest cup a bitter drop, for a home where the flowers would never fade,
and where pain, sorrow and death will never come. We all felt the solemn
and impressive warning, "Be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think
not, the Son of Man cometh."
As often as I recalled her triumphant, peaceful death, her firm reliance
on God, and sweet submission to His will, I could not forbear contrasting
her departure with that of Mrs. Helm, whose death I have elsewhere
described; and could fervently pray, that I might live the life of the
righteous, that my last end might be like hers.
"Behold the Western evening light,
It melts in deep'ning gloom;
So calmly Christians sink away,
Descending to the tomb.
The winds breathe low, the withering leaf
Scarce whispers from the tree,--
So gently flows the parting breath,
When good folks cease to be.
How beautiful on all the hills,
The crimson light is shed;
'Tis like the peace the Christian gives,
To mourners round his bed.
How mildly on the wandering cloud,
The sunset beam is cast,--
'Tis like the mem'ry left behind,
When loved ones breathe their last.
And now above the dews of night,
The yellow star appears;
So faith springs in the breast of those,
Whose eyes are bathed in tears.
But soon the morning's happier light,
Its glory shall restore;
And eyelids that are sealed in death,
Shall wake to close no more."